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softanddarkk · 4 months

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Linger - Charles Smith (rdr2) x fem reader

This is a pining Charles POV based on the song Linger, by the cranberries and has anyone ever asked for this ? No. But I wanted it, it’s fan service for me and me only and I enjoyed every second of writing it so if you want a part two please let me know.

Charles and the reader have been in love for years and they are so oblivious to it that it’s criminal!

Warnings; none really, angsty Charles, smutty themes if you squint

If you, if you could return

Don't let it burn

Don’t let it fade…

Charles had seen a lot in his twenty seven years on this earth - but nothing ever made his heart beat quite as much as that first glimps of you after a long raid or robbery. He had always been happy to bring back his share of loot from jobs; he had became a provider for the gang, known for his loyalty and hard work - he liked it.

He belonged, possibly for the first time in his whole life.

But when you joined the gang, his commitment to coming “home” (wherever that may be and for however temporarily) strengthened tenfold.

your smile, your eyes, your voice - the job was intense, everytime he left he knew there was a high chance he wouldn’t be coming back.

He had sat with this fact, weighed up his options - he could live with that.

Until you - he had been completely okay with the fact that he might not see his next sunrise.

But now he was greedy, Charles wanted more.

No longer living just to be alive, he wanted a future.

A future with you.

But the gated paddock with grazing horses and a baby in his arms that had his hair but your eyes, that just wasn’t an viable option, as much as he might want it.

And he did, he so desperately wants it.

You had once read him one of your fantasy romance books, a juvenile piece of literature that the girls had passed around and poured over.

And as you dramatically delivered the lines, punctuating sentences with your glorious laugh, he wondered - fleetingly and if just for a moment, if love like that could really exist.

But he knew it was futile. He was not your prince in shining armour - not the man you would imagine when reading those words.

Charles was cold, quiet, lacking in social skills.

And you were you, passionate and stronge, someone who the whole gang loved and doted on as much as you doted upon them.

You chatted to all of them, you had time for everyone, you were everything he could not be; warm, engaging, someone people came to for comfort.

He concluded that fairytales are just that, fiction.

I'm sure I'm not being rude

But it's just your attitude

It's tearing me apart

It's ruining every day…

It got to him, it really did.

Because as much as he wanted you, Charles just didn’t see a reality where he would ever be enough.

In some twisted way, he had to accept both what he wanted and what you deserved.

You had shared with him, one night after far too many beers at a camp celebration, that you dreamed of leaving this life behind one day, settling down, owning a ranch and having a family.

He had lay there the following morning, in his stiff cot and itchy sheets, solem with the realisation that his own past stuck to him like dry straw on honey.

He lost his mother at such a young age, and his dad too, emotionally at least, as a result.

He left any semblance of family behind that day that he fled, a thirteen year old boy with nothing to his name but grief and rejection.

How could he be a father when he had barely had one himself ?

Was he fated to repeat his own sires mistakes ?

Or could he be a good father, a dad even.

Could he raise his sons to be loyal, fierce but soft, teach them to fish and shoot their bow but also how to treat those around them with respect?

Could he raise his daughters to be independent and strong, yet caring and optimistic?

And then he found it all quite laughable; because who would want children with a man like him.

Accepting that he was too wound up to rest, he got out of his cot, made a coffee and started up the fire, waiting until the others woke up.

I swore, I swore I would be true

And honey so did you

So why were you holding her hand?

Charles was so secretive about the feelings he had developed about you that he genuinely believed nobody would ever catch a wiff.

But as Arthur watched his close friends troubled face, and followed his stormy gaze to find it locked on you - laughing with Sean over something he assumed was stupid and down right juvenile - he felt true empathy for his good friend.

Arthur knew Charles well enough to know that under that big bear of an exterior was a heart of gold.

Although a relatively new addition to the gang, in comparison to himself or John, Arthur trusted Charles, a luxury he offered very few.

Because of this, the two often went on excursions together - Arthur managing to learn little bits of trivia Charles would sometimes offer, leaving him to piece together an overall view of his lift before the gang and his character like a jigsaw puzzle.

Charles was by no means big on chat, but Arthur liked to think he had a pretty good perception of him by now.

Additionally, Arthur was not a stranger to the concept of unrequited love.

So he sat there on his bar stool, his friend looking off longingly into the abyss, and weighted up his options.

It surely wasn’t smart to poke Charles, the metaphorical bear, he should most certainly leave his observations for another day.

But it’s nearly midnight, he’s a good few whisky’s deep, and when has Arthur ever chosen the correct decision.

“You’re real sweet on her, huh”

Charles wakes out of his trance and multiple emotions drench over his face; the first of which being outright confusion.

The second coming later - but stronger than the first - Anger.

Maybe at his bold accusation, maybe at being caught out, Arthur neither knows or cares.

And then, as he opens his mouth to protest - causing Arthur to hold up his hand in defiance, the final emotion: defeat.

Charles looks into his glass as if searching for the key to Pandora’s box.

“Just go speak to ‘er” Arthur offers, jesturing to you, causing Charles to smack his hand down as if you would suddenly squire the gift of telepathy and know Charles deep dirty secret.

“I can’t Arthur” the words come out in such a crestfallen way Arthur almost wants to bring his friend in for a embrace.

Everything about tone, his choice of words, tells Arthur that this a conversation Charles has already had with himself frequently and his heart hurts for the man.

Arthur knows this thought process all to well, after all, he’s lived it himself. He knows there’s nothing he can say now, no words of comfort, that can fix Charles sorrow.

So he doesn’t say anything, he listens.

He listens as Charles tells him that he’s not good enough for you.

He listens as Charles tells him to how you want a future he can’t provide.

And he hears how much it’s pulling the man apart.

He orders himself and Charles another drink, and then listens some more.

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you?

The night Sean returned he danced with you.

The stars shone overhead and the fire cracks and whistled, competing with the sound of the gangs laughter and chatting.

Charles looked down to see that you were looking at him, really looking - and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

He could see there was so much behind your eyes, so many thoughts in that miraculous brain of yours, and the fact that he couldn’t decipher a single one of them made his insides churn.

Where you looking at his scar, wondering why you were dancing with such an ugly brute of a man?

Or where you simply imagining someone else in his space? Maybe Sean or John or even javier.

But when you speak, your words send him even further down a spiral.

“You’re so handsome, mr Smith”

The words, the look in your eyes as you say them, the naughty smirk on your lips - charles wasn’t sure if he believed in heaven anymore, and he knew with all certainty that after his actions he would not be allowed entry, but that nice it felt like he transcended up to the pearly gates and shook hands with everyone wholly up there.

But then he realises he’s said nothing, and it’s too late, your face has changed, gone the look of awe, replaced with something resembling embarrassment and possibly even a little rejection.

“Sorry, I’m really drunk” you laugh off, and maybe if you hadn’t looked away from him you would have seen the blush on his cheeks and his mouth open to tell you just how much he loved you, just how much your words meant to him.

Maybe if you hadn’t dropped his hands and gone back to the others, he would have kissed you right there by the camp fire, in front of everyone he cared about.

But that wouldn’t happen, not that night.

Charles would think your words were the result of your alcohol consumption, nothing else.

And you would think that Charles just didn’t feel the same way.

You’d both wake up the next morning with the memory of that encounter, but you’d both pretend you didn’t. It was a game you both played, denying your feelings for eachother while knowing that when you turned in for the night and got into your seperate cots you would both be thinking only of the other.

But I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

“Can I braid your hair?”

A pointless question, Charles thought to himself. You could ask the man if he would load his own gun, turn it on himself and shoot and he’d do it without a please, thanking you for the command.

Anything for you.

Charles had injured himself in a raid, a silly mistake leading to him breaking a few fingers, nothing serious in the grand scheme of it all but still causing short term annoyance.

Due to this, his usual braid had admittadly become lose and somewhat of a disaster.

It wasn’t the first thing on his mind, but when you offered to help him, and the idea of you scraping your nails against his scalp was birthed into his brain, the chance to fulfil a fantasy was too hard to deny.

Scared of how his voice may come out if he used his words, he grumbled a response and sold it with a nod.

You took to work on his lengths, starting at the bottom and working your way up, a little too gentle for Charles liking if he was honest.

The idea of you pulling his hair had came across his thoughts, often late at night, but it was never accompanied by you both being fully clothed and his fingers being broken.

However when you reached his head and racked your fingers through his hair like a brush, he had to use everything in himself to fight the moans of satisfaction he wanted to release.

You chatted away to him the whole time and he tried to listen, he really did, but the combination of you being so close that he could smell you around him and your touch on his hair was ultimately distracting to say the least.

“Are you even listening to me?”

He wasn’t, he didn’t hear this, causing you to playfully tug, a little harder than expected by either of you, at his locks.

Charles made a sound he hoped he could pass off as a yelp, but that was really the result of his nightly fantasies of you peaking into reality in the strangest way possible.

“Sorry” you say, and it’s as if his groan did as much for you as your hair tugging did for him, but he couldn’t think about that without opening a box he had long decided to close, lock and bury deep.

So he went back to enjoying your touch, knowing that this might be the closest he ever got to you, and being okay with that.

If this was all Charles could have of you, at least he’d had something.

And surely something was better than nothing at all.

Do you have to let it linger?

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger

#charles smith #charles rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #charles smith x reader #charles smith x you #Charles smith x y/n #headcannons #song #arthur morgan #red dead redemption #linger #the cranberries

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snapscube · 3 months

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Hi Penny!! Knowing that you are both a fan of FFXIV and the Steam Deck, I thought I would ask you if the game is playable on the Steam Deck! I don't have a viable PC, but I'm interested in trying out the game and wasn't sure if that was an option. I'll probably also poke around online for answers, but I thought you'd be a good person to ask about it!

yes, it’s (currently*) VERY playable! you get solid battery life when locked to 30fps (which for an MMO is generally fine) but it can hit 60 in many cases if necessary as long as ur willing to take the battery hit. personally it’s not a form factor i would do any serious combat content on, as the screen real estate can at times feel cramped, but if you’re just starting the game then it’s absolutely viable for a long stretch of the games early levels. you could even hook it up to an external monitor with a keyboard and mouse and get the full PC experience anyway and just use the handheld mode for questing and more casual stuff!

* i don’t have direct experience with how it’s going to run AFTER dawntrail releases next week. i didn’t go through the trouble to set up the benchmark on my own device. but based on what i can tell, the graphics update coming with dawntrail isn’t going to out-spec the steam deck at all. you MAY have to lock to 30fps more often, but that’s a maybe and it’ll depend on play environment like always. should still be in a very playable state from what i can tell but again, don’t take my word on that completely until the update comes along and i’ve been able to test it myself.

#ffxiv

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northern-passage · 1 year

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just found one of my favorite pieces of writing advice when it comes to interactive fiction, i think if you've read literally any of my work, it will be pretty obvious how much i use this in my own writing. i actually couldn't remember where i read this for the first time and on a whim i went through my twitter likes and found it in a thread. i'm going to transcribe it for ease of reading, but this is all coming from Alexander Freed (@/AlexanderMFreed on twitter)

he has a website here with other compiled writing advice about branching narratives and game design, though he never posted this there and hasn't really updated recently (but still check it out. there's some specific entries about writing romance, branching and linear & other game writing advice)

original twitter thread here

It's Tuesday night and I feel like teaching some of what I've learned in 15 years of branching narrative video game writing. Let's go in-depth about one incredibly specific subject: neutral / fallthrough / catchall response options!

Player ownership of the protagonist in choice-based branching narrative games (a la BioWare, Telltale, mobile narrative games, etc) is a vital aspect of the form.

The ability for the audience to shape a Player Character, to develop that character's inner life in their own mind, is unmatched in any other medium.

The Player determines the character's actions and THE MOTIVATIONS for those actions. The character's psychology can literally be as complex as the Player can imagine. However, this works best when there's enough space for the Player to develop those motivations. No game can offer enough options to support every interpretation imaginable; much of the character has to live in the Player's head, without necessarily appearing on the screen.

That's complicated. We're going to unpack it.

Generally, when presenting choices to a Player, we want those choices to be as interesting and compelling as possible.

But compelling, dramatic choices tend to be revealing of character. And no game can support hundreds of options at every choice point for every possible character motivation a Player might imagine.

This sort of narrative CANNOT maintain its integrity if the Player is forced to constantly "rewrite" their characterization of the Player Character on the fly. You want your Player to feel like they have more than enough viable options at any given moment.

At the simplest level of writing, this is where "fallthrough" responses come in.

In the examples above, each moment contains a response which furthers the story but doesn't imply a huge emotional choice for the Player. The Player is asked to choose A or B, agree or disagree, but can sidestep the issue altogether if desired.

These "neutral" responses are vital if both A and B don't appeal to the Player... or if, perhaps, the Player likes A but not the WAY A is being expressed. Milquetoast option C works for anyone; thus, the Player is never forced to break character because of a lack of options.

Questions work well for this sort of neutral option. Tacit agreement and dead silence also serve, in certain sorts of stories--as a Player, I know what's going on in my silent character's head and the game won't contradict it.

The important thing is that I'm never forced to take a path that's outright WRONG for my character. Even if other characters misinterpret the Player Character's motivation, my character's inner life remains internally consistent.

"Neutral" responses aren't the only ways to go, though. Some responses are appropriate for any character because they're tied to the base character concept.

Here, for example (from @/seankmckeever's X-Files), the Player is a marine on a mission. The Player can respond abrasively to her partner's fear or look into the issue (out of compassion or genuine belief), but our fallthrough is actually the TOP response.

There's no version of our marine who would absolutely break character by picking "Stay calm and on mission." It's not blandly neutral; rather, it reinforces aspects of the character we can be sure of and gives the Player an option if nothing else works.

Different sorts of narratives will use different sorts of fallthroughs. A comedy might treat the option to say something funny as a fallthrough, of sorts--it's entertaining and will never violate the characterization the Player has created.

In a quest-driven RPG, a fallthrough response can often boil down to "How do I move to the next step of this quest?"

That said, the strongest moments in a narrative will often have no "fallthrough" response at all. They'll work by creating multiple responses that, by overlapping, cover all reasonable Player Character actions while still leaving room for the Player to ascribe motivation.

#cataloguing this before twitter explodes LOL #only thing i changed was the 'Player' pronouns because :-)#this was so fucking frustrating to do the tumblr post editor fucking sucks ass and kept breaking with every picture i added #i did add img descriptions... i did my best #also i cannot believe this is the guy that wrote the rogue one novelization #one of the best star wars books hands down #umm anyways #writing #interactive fiction

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howtofightwrite · 11 months

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How can I write a fight scene with opponents who are not just extremely capable fighters but extremely cunning and resourceful. Who adapt and the fight is never just about physical skill.

There isn't a single correct answer to this question. One common, and effective, solution is by breaking or countering a fighter's tricks.

One way to establish a character's skill in combat is to give them some specific tricks that they'll employ in a fight. Of course, having typed that, now the only specific example that comes to mind is The Operative's nerve strike from Serenity (which is, unfortunately, a terrible example for this conversation.)This is usually something like a character having a hidden weapon, or a specific method of disarming their foe. When you're using this method, letting another character hard counter their trick can instantly inform the audience that this character is far more dangerous than they initially appear.

In a very abstract sense, you can think of combat as characters having an array of actions available to them. Skilled combatants are likely to have a much wider range of options, options that are better tailored to the situation they're in, and in some cases, options that are specifically designed to counter things an opponent would attempt to use on them. Unskilled characters are likely to have a bunch of options mixed in that are either completely useless, actively detrimental, or both, with no idea which ones those are. For example: Every backyard wrestling video ever.

When you're looking at inexperienced characters, in that context, they'll attack their opponent, and then either act again if their opponent is unable to retaliate, or their foe will act against them. I will criticize writing combat as turn based, but with characters like this, it can be helpful to understand how they're operating. When you have experienced fighters, they have the ability to immediately respond to what their foe is doing. This doesn't always mean, directly countering their opponent's attack, sometimes it can mean they'll use their foe's action as an opportunity to get in.

Now, that's the abstraction, a lot of this does have some relation to the real world. Experienced fighters will have trained, and honed their responses into their muscle memory. They won't need to think about what they're going to do, they'll simply, “go.” Inexperienced, and untrained fighters will have their minds cluttered up with things they've seen in action movies, and they'll need a moment to filter through what's on their mind, and they won't have the background of knowing (either through instruction or experience) what will or won't work. So they need a moment, and then they'll try to do something.

This leads into the biggest problem for you, which is, combat between experienced fighters is fast; but, if you're writing prose, your ability to control the speed of a scene is limited. You can speed the reader up by keeping the text as spartan as possible, but it can also result in a very perfunctory, and unsatisfying, fight scene. This is part of why there's an appeal to the simplistic, “character has some combat tricks, antagonist can counter them,” structure. It can quickly convey that idea without getting too far into the weeds.

Now, one piece of bad news is the bit about how inexperienced and untrained fighters will have a lot of, “junk,” options floating around. This is also a problem for writers staging fight scenes. If you have absolutely no experience with combat, it can be pretty difficult to realize when some of those options that seem viable to you, simply wouldn't work. There is some range of forgiveness, after all if you think it should work, and can stage it out, maybe you can convince your readers that it would work, but it is something to be cautious of. A lot of the simpler, “can you do X?” questions we field tend to be cases where either that is something that works, it's similar to something that works, or it really doesn't work. Knife throwing comes to mind as one we've discussed repeatedly over the years. (It's a cool party trick, but not a great idea in a fight.) But, if you can write a scene where stabbing someone through the eye with an arrow is believable, it doesn't really matter that doing so is nearly impossible. So, even if you do run with some options that wouldn't really work, it doesn't mean that your fight scene won't.

One other piece of advice, that might first sound like a non-sequitur, it's okay for you to take breaks. Yes, your characters are fighting each other, and they're a fraction of a second away from being murdered in the most horrific ways possible, but you have the luxury of sitting back and really thinking about what their options are. Just because they could make those choices in the moment doesn't mean that you need to be just as fast.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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davertmanfriend · 8 months

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*ahem*

Hello and welcome too:

DR KEL, THE SECRET ARIRAL 2

ELECTRICBOOGALOO

This post shall make clear of some things and make theories such as:

Why dr kel is part ariral

Who made him this way

Even if Dr kel knows they are an ariral

Let's begin

Art from: https://x.com/Celdis_La_Trash/status/1717160454479340020?s=20

From deduction, we can tell Dr. Kel isn't a normal human, quite special indeed, he can eat a lot of bad foods and not get hurt from this, decomposing deers, raw eggs, bugs, and a lot more.

Dr. kel is stronger than many humans (can chuck a 400-pound atv with ease, survive falls and tumbles that would break human bones), its obvious Dr. kel isn't human to a degree. First, who and why?

The most viable options are arirals. Could be some test of sorts, to see if ariral could mate with humans and what the offspring would look like (it's a viable option, I'm sorry), or perhaps Dr. kel is the victim of alien abduction and genetic modification. All we know is that arirals had something to do with it, and arirals have become more familiar to earth than we think. As we can tell by the poster in the base, the previous inhabitants have seen warp arrows. And want to believe.

But why is Dr kel part ariral?... we have a few reasons.

1: As I said, perhaps an ariral mated with a human, for two reasons: because they were in love, and they are testing if it was possible to have offspring with a human. (It's viable, I'm sorry)

2: as we know, their medical system and science are advanced! Far beyond us. But, let's be honest, would they be greedy like us? They do have corruption in their government, so the medical care is probably corrupted, too. And expensive. And arirals are poisonous to humans! Requiring a vacation to help us adapt to them. But, if a human was part ariral, they'd be immune to an extent. Right? So, it could be Dr. kel is a bridge for money, less cash for creating the vaccine, and paying to get it. Plus, it would help create a connection between human and ariral. Dr. kel could be a future ambassador. And if the mating thing is right, these arirals at the array, could be people sent to study them, or one scientist and a parent.

Or, if the genetics manipulation theory is correct, the arirals who are at the array are both scientist and are testing his durability, strength, and agility (explaining the 'pranks' they play), which makes sense, because they seemingly are both talls, and when they push Dr kel, they survive and with little to no bruises (tall arirals are 8× stronger then humans), they also leave ariral food for Dr kel, such as the purple fruit, which shows the genetic manipulation does have limits.

From both theories, they both can either be right, or im batshit insane! Either way I'm for it!

Now, does Dr kel know they are an ariral?..

This is mainly for the ariral parent theory, but if ya squint those eyes, it could fit the genetics manipulation theory.

Well, Dr. kel is a human who willingly went to the array, which is seemingly total isolation from humanity, and abolace that has claimed many human lives! And with Dr ena as their friend, ena has told Dr. kel probably, and wants Dr. kel to back out of it! But Dr. Kel wants to go here for some reason! We all know Dr. bao doesn't care if Dr. kel dies. It's just a little more paperwork for a weak for him! So, Dr. kel is purposely self isolating away from humans and friends. It's possible his parent told him to keep his strange tendencies to himself (ariral parent theory) because the big bad government would take them away if Dr. kel didn't keep it a secret! And so, Dr. kel is probably a little paranoid still of humans, childhood trauma? And we do see that Dr. kel is traumatized a little or paranoid, at least.

It's not a truly perfect theory, but if any writers out their take my ideas, go ahead and make something magical! I might try to as well-

Anyway! That's all I had to say, pinched unto a rant of sorts, all for voices of the void.

If you friends out their might see any other things that could fit into my theory, be not afraid to comment! I like your ideas too.

That's all, bbbbyyyeee! <3

#voices of the void #votv #ariral #dr kel #random #rant post #theory #im sorry

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waywardstation · 8 months

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Snatched

Phione Akari AU

A flock of persistent Murkrow go after Akari when both herself and Ingo's guards are down.

I wrote this based off two requests I got from anons; one to see Ingo dealing with the problematic murkrow that go after Akari, and one asking about Akari trying to figure out Pokémon moves.

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

————

“No, I will not.”

“Phi!”

“Miss Akari.”

Ingo continued scrubbing his tunic in the waters of the coastlands’ stream while Akari tapped the pokedex page again with her writing tool, where a shaky doodle of scrambled eggs on a plate had been scribbled.

“I can’t. It would be noon by the time I’ve found and prepared all the ingredients. Then it would be lunch, not breakfast, and we would be several hours behind schedule.” Ingo held up the soaked tunic and looked it over as it dripped river water. Hmm, most of the dirt had washed out, it looked like… sliding down that cliffside to escape that alpha purugly had not been one of his proudest split-second decisions.

“Phiii phi!” More tapping on the page.

“I’d love to prepare some, honestly. But it’s just not a viable option right now.” Relatively satisfied with his work, Ingo stood up and held his soaked tunic out in front, taking it to hang it up and dry near the camp’s fire. “We need to be packed, refueled, and ready to leave as soon as this is dry enough to wear. It’s just going to be what we have on hand right now, alright?”

“Pphf,” Akari slumped as Ingo returned to pick both her and her pokedex up from the stream’s edge, and set them down beside the camp’s storage box. There, she resigned herself to watching Ingo poke the sluggish fire back to life with a stick, pull his coat back on over his underlayer to protect himself from the cold morning air, and start going through their provisions.

It was probably just going to be roasted beans and berries again. Boring.

“I think today, we should try searching over by Hideaway Bay.” Ingo turned to open the storage box’s lid, digging around inside. “I know that alpha ambipom is rather temperamental, but I believe we’ve put off a much-needed examination of the area for too long.”

“Phi,” Akari sighed as she watched a horrendously greasy cooking pan emerge from the container, to Ingo’s disgust.

“Eugh,” He grimaced at the crusted-over texture along the edges. “Clearly, our previous traveler was not much of a maintainer when it came to equipment. But no matter-”

Getting back to his feet, Ingo moved to return to the riverbank, ruined pan in hand. He stopped only a moment to glance over his shoulder at her.

“This will only take a moment. You’re, um, alright there?”

Akari nodded her head fervently, shoo-ing him with her flippers. She could see he was hesitant, but she was fine! He did not have to keep her stuck to him every waking moment of the day, despite what he often insisted.

And Akari both understood and appreciated Ingo’s intent. It was reasonable to want to shelter her when she had no means to protect herself, either physically or through the use of moves, which were currently still a heavily-locked mystery to her. But as someone who was not used to such constant dependency, and quite sure they’d never like it to that degree, Akari found it suffocating sometimes.

So she really appreciated that Ingo had been trying to relax on that a little lately and give her options when she had finally expressed as much.

Ingo gave one last look around, then continued on. “Alright, but please keep an eye out. I’ll be right over here.”

As Ingo got to work scrubbing the pan in the river, Akari slumped against the box and stared up at the surrounding foliage.

Bushes that seemed comparable to small houses in size. Massive evergreen trees jutting up for what seemed like a mile, the sluggish sunrise peeking its numerous fingers through the flaring canopy of branches. Hills framing their entire camp at a scale more comparable to mountains.

It was all nauseatingly staggering in this tiny body.

A rustle, somewhere overhead. Akari glanced up into the branches of a tree near the camp’s tent, sitting halfway between herself and the stream. Ingo, who had begun humming something, stopped both his tune and his scrubbing to turn back at it.

A long, heavy stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“…Miss Akari, stay right where you are, please.” A whisper carried across the camp to her. Ingo was setting the pan down carefully on the riverbank, and getting back to his feet slowly. He could see something she couldn’t. She noticed him looking back and forth. Was he… gauging the distance between herself, himself, and the tree?

Whatever was in that tree was much closer to her than he was.

Oh.

That was not good.

Akari supposed she had taken herself out of the danger for a moment, as she was slammed with the full realization of what kind of a position she was in.

Something wanted her, and she was in quite an open space. Her safe bucket was over by the riverbank near Ingo, and Ingo’s pokeballs were still set down by the tent, along with all his other belongings.

This didn’t happen. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“Look at me,” Ingo whispered again, pulling her attention back to him. Halfway across the camp now, he was almost past the tree with his hands positioned like he was getting ready to grab her. “Don’t move. I’m almost there.”

The tree's branches rustled again, but Akari did not look back over at it.

Perhaps it was the horror of this unique situation that she’d never find herself in while in her own body. Or maybe it was the anxiety driven by uncertainty and new, prominent fragility telling her something was already diving for her. It could have even been the fact that protection was so close. But at the sound, Akari reflexively bounded forward towards Ingo’s open hands using her flippers.

The sudden and dramatic action had been a poor choice. At her movement, the tree released a mess of croaky squawking, and shades of black burst from the cover of the branches.

Murkrow. The greedy pests never lingered long in daylight, but the sun was still not entirely up yet; perhaps Ingo and herself had gotten up too early.

These had to be the same flock of murkrow that had been stalking them these past few days, waiting so patiently for a chance to snatch her. After so many previous attempts having ended in Ingo or his Pokémon smacking them away, it may have been personal at this point. And revenge was a very strong motivator.

Sharp red eyes locked gnarled sets of claws on target as they dove for her. But Ingo was quicker. A set of hands protectively clasped around her, and Akari was jostled harshly as darkness sheltered her — Ingo had reached the rest of the way and slid across the dirt to grab her first.

Surely she was safe now, right?

While she could not see, Akari could hear everything just fine. Flapping wings, incensed squawking, and Ingo’s own shouts. But worst of all, incessant pecking. They were pecking at his hands, trying to open them! How many were out there? It sounded like fifty!

“Krow! Krrow!”

“No! No! Stop it!”

Another hard jostle in the darkness, and more shouting. Akari tumbled upside down; he must have curled on himself to try and better protect her. But it was for naught; a sliver of light broke through — terror gaping through the cracks rather than comfort reassuring her that it was over. A gnarled talon had burrowed itself in between Ingo’s hands, and was trying to forcefully wrench them open.

“Get- get off!”

“Krraw!”

Through the weakening bars of Ingo’s fingers, Akari could see sharp beaks nagging at his wrists. A hard jab, a subsequent shout, and his hands reflexively jolted open another crack. More talons curled through to make sure they stayed open. Then a gnarled beak barged in and clamped down on the long, thin ribbon atop her head. Suddenly with a disorientating, painful yank, the safe darkness disappeared entirely against the harsh light of the morning sun.

Up in the air. Rising up above the storage box, then the firepit, then the camp’s tent, Akari felt herself being tossed up with extra momentum before reversing into a downward fall. And looking below, she found herself staring straight down into the darkness of a murkrow’s throat, waiting for her to fall into it. It had gotten too greedy, and had decided to try and eat her up right there before any other members of its flock could.

Oh, this was it. This was the end!

“Krawwk!” A pained screech and a flurry of feathers, and Akari’s view of an open beak was knocked aside, replaced with a weathered gear station emblem and black fabric against a sideways skyline.

Ingo’s hat. He had smacked the murkrow aside at the last moment by managing to throw it, pretty much the only thing he had on him at the moment, and saved her from being swallowed up at the last second.

“Akari! I’ve got you!” Falling back downwards, Akari could see Ingo shouting and reaching up for her amongst the cloud of pests still harassing him, and for a moment she believed she would be saved. But unseen talons from above closed around her before his hands could secure her from below.

Ingo’s hat returned to him, but she was off again with another murkrow. And this time, it made it past the camp’s tent. Surroundings scrambled together, and Akari found herself now staring down at a sight that would have flip-flopped her stomach if her current body had one.

The base camp, way down below and only getting smaller. The underside of a murkrow and its furiously flapping wings. A flock of its kin (about twelve, not the fifty she imagined) trailing hastily after them into the sky. And Ingo, still being harassed by a small group that had not yet noticed their coveted prize had been stolen away from him.

She had been snatched. A Pokémon had finally snatched her up and away from safety. And now it was surely going to eat her-

Before the sickening reality could fully set in, the murkrow carrying her squawked and dove downwards. The sky was replaced with a blurred scenery of green and brown whizzing by, and Akari realized her kidnapper was trying to lose its allies-turned-pursuers so it could have her to itself.

It was quickly carrying her far away from base camp.

“Phi! Phiii!” Crying out felt involuntary at this point; Akari couldn’t help it. This was a nightmare scenario and she couldn’t even do anything about it. Useless flippers. Weak body. Inaccessible, mystery moveset. Why had she willingly left herself out in the open like that?

A hard impact knocked Akari out of her thoughts, and a series of screeches broke out right above her. The pressure on her ribbon-like appendage loosened, and free-fall gravity weighed heavy on her for a moment before a new snap came down on one of her flippers, dragging her along once again.

Another murkrow had caught up, collided with them, and snatched her away. But its success would be short-lived; from where she dangled by her flipper, Akari could now look back and see the maneuver had given the rest of the flock time to catch up. At least seven more were right behind them.

“Krow!” Akari’s current captor squawked around her flipper in its mouth as it thoroughly examined her, bright eyes shaded dark under its feathery crest. “Krawwk!”

Still unintelligible dialect that meant nothing to her, despite being a Pokémon. And Akari knew her sounds would be just as garbled to them, but she sternly shook her head anyways, using her other flipper to smack its beak . “Phi-phi!”

Let go!!

Another impact. Feathers flew in a burst, and Akari was ripped right out of the murkrow’s beak by the greedy grip of a claw. An immediate dive bomb followed, disorienting her.

They were all fighting over her.

Trying to focus on the ground down below, the small part of Akari’s mind that wasn’t either uncontrollably racing in a panic or freezing up entirely was trying to come up with something. Anything.

Should she try to free herself from this Murkrow’s grasp? She’d fall a long way down, surely. This was a massive height for her. But she had no bones to break. No muscles to bruise. No organs to damage. She’d be fine like this, right? She was built like a water balloon, after all.

But water balloons bust open on impact. What if she did too-?

And what would she even do if she did survive the fall? Drag herself all the way back to base camp — wherever that even was now — and just hope no wild Pokémon spotted her and snatched her up along the way? And of course, all of that was generously assuming all these murkrow wouldn’t immediately go after her again in a frenzy.

This was hopeless.

She wanted Ingo.

But Ingo was not here. And he probably had no idea where she was. She certainly didn’t.

“Kroww!” Two murkrow had caught up at once and clamped down on her at the same time, one pulling on her flipper, the other yanking on her ribbon while she was still tight in the grip of a claw. With her squishy, malleable body, it didn’t hurt like expected, but it still squeezed a surprised squeak out of her.

This was pathetic. What was she doing? She did not get into situations like this, and she certainly did not give into them so easily! She did not falter to anything! Raging alphas and frenzied nobles haven’t stopped her yet, why should a pesky flock of cowardly murkrow get that honor? And Lord Braviary carried her through the skies all the time! This was the same!

…no, it was not the same at all.

Another moment of freefall as the three-way tug-of-war yanked Akari out of any secure grip, but with more screeching and flapping wings to follow, another sharp beak predictably clamped back down on her ribbon and pulled her along again.

She couldn’t keep doing this. They were going to tear her apart before any of them even got the chance to eat her! But again — no known moveset. No outside help. No helpful physical capabilities-

-Wait. There was that one weird thing she could do, where she could sort of dissolve into water. Or melt into it? Just plain liquify? It was still very confusing, as it sort of just… happened sometimes.

Could she do it out of water? No idea. Could she do it on command? Again, no idea. But it was the only way out of this that she could think of, so she had to try. They couldn’t keep her in their beaks and claws if she wasn’t solid.

The horrific squabbling continued all around her, but Akari scrunched up and pulled her flippers close. Drown it out. Just drown it out, like water. Water is loose. Be loose. LOOSE! Just let your mind drift! Let go, let GO-

Perhaps she had concentrated too hard on loosening up instead of actually loosening up, as the cold whistling of wind was abruptly a very prominent sensation all around her. Had she been let go?

She was falling! And neither a claw or a beak had snatched her up yet? Had it worked? She didn’t feel like water. Garbled squawking was still heard somewhere around her, but when Akari tried to glance upwards, she couldn’t get a good look at the flock.

In fact, she couldn’t get a good look at anything.

She had fallen long enough to slip into a mid-air tumble. Rolling too fast, it was all a hopeless blur. Sky. Ground. Trees. Clouds. Sky. Ground. Trees? Sky? No matter what, Akari could not slow down to make sense of anything around her.

Squawking was still heard, spiraling somewhere. It was going to be one or the other — if a murkrow didn’t swoop to catch her, the ground eventually would. Then she’d find out exactly how similar she was to a water balloon.

To her dread, something clamped down hard all around her, tight and desperate as she was now enveloped in warm darkness.

Akari cried out instinctively with the abrupt impact. Surely, she had fallen into the open maw of a murkrow that had finally dove to catch her. And this time, Ingo wasn’t there to knock it away and save her, and she was now hopelessly crammed into its gullet.

She instinctively thrashed as if she wanted to keep fighting, but it was half-hearted; what could she do anymore? Truly now, this was it. This was really it-

The paralyzing horror and the deep darkness retracted its hold, giving way to light. Akari opened her eyes hesitantly; she had not realized she had shut them so tightly.

There was Ingo. Quite disheveled and hunched forward over her, he was staring down at her in his fingers. His chest was heaving with excess adrenaline and exertion like he had just run a mile. His hands were trembling (and bleeding?) and warm with the same nervous sweat that slicked his forehead. His eyes were wide with a certain disbelief, yet relieving all the same as they settled on her.

“Oh, oh- you’re alright Akari! You’re alright-!” Ingo’s hands, shakey as they were, closed around her again as he held her close, reassuring her all the while that she was ok. It was as if the murkrow would snatch her up again if he didn’t. “You’re ok, you’re alright! I’m- I’m so sorry-”

He had run after her and caught her.

“Phiii! Phii!” A burst of emotion swelled her little chest with gratitude. Springing out of her stunned state to try consoling the frazzled man back, Akari’s squeaks were lost amongst Ingo’s stumbling words. Flippers extended out to him without much direct intent as he frantically looked her over, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Ingo! You!! You caught me!!

“I followed- I wouldn’t allow them to just- I wouldn’t ever let such a thing just happen-“ Quickly-spilling reassurances were choppy and unfinished as Ingo still tried to catch his breath. “I’m- I should not have gotten lax with safety procedures and left you there like that. Forgive me, I won’t neglect your safety like that ever again. I won’t- I promise!”

“Phii!” Akari reached out to bap at him with a flipper, because again, it was all she could do. Of course he’d ask for forgiveness. If he was asking for forgiveness, she of course would as well.

Ingo leaned forward, finally allowing himself to get a few deep breaths in. “You’re… alright? Aren’t you?”

Akari nodded fervently yes, but to her half-surprise, she was hurting. Areas where beaks and talons had clamped and yanked now stung like fresh bruises, but the slippery blue membrane of her body didn’t hint at any damage at all. It just… hurt, even though it appeared fine.

The same couldn’t be said for Ingo’s hands, though. Fresh marks and scrapes littered his skin and disappeared down under his tattered sleeves. They had really torn him up. Akari frowned at him as she wiped at some of the residual blood with a flipper, and threw her head up in sudden search of the murkrow.

“They were very set on reaching you,” Ingo cleared his throat. “But I am alright; I was worse off than this after my first attempt at carving a pokeball. Though, speaking of those murkrow…”

Ingo lifted his head up to look over his shoulder, and Akari’s gaze followed, eager to see where they were.

High up in the sky, a screeching, umbrella-shaped silhouette of stretched leather wings was trailing after a disorganized disaster of murkrow, rapidly escaping into the distance.

“I’m hoping Gliscor has discouraged their group enough to keep them from bothering us again. But I may have to request that Miss Zisu allows her honchkrow to accompany us next time, just in case. They’d keep their distance for certain.”

“Phi!” Akari watched on with admiration. So Gliscor had saved her! Ingo must have retrieved his pokeballs, and Gliscord must have went after the flock and gotten them to drop her-

“Oh! And ah, not to downplay the situation by changing tracks so quickly Miss Akari, and I apologize that it had to fall under these conditions, but I would like to congratulate you on your, well… first successful use of a move?”

The sentence was said just as awkwardly as it was received. That was not something one person would normally say to another person to begin with, but even given the unique circumstances, Akari cocked her head to the side, giving Ingo a confused look. A move? What move?

“I believe you utilized the move Confusion?” Ingo framed it as another question, like he needed her confirmation to be sure. “It was rather high up so it was difficult to know for sure, but all I saw was a bright flash, then the murkrow suddenly derailed every which way, and then I caught you. Remarkably similar to Alakazam’s use of the move, if I could compare.”

Akari gave a second look at the murkrow in the distance. Their flight patterns looked horribly uncoordinated like they couldn’t even see straight, now that she knew what she was looking for. And that would explain why none of them were able to swoop down and catch her…

Perhaps concentrating so hard on thoughts of a loose body and drifting mind had accidentally directed them way more outward than inward.

“Phii!” Akari squealed, throwing her flippers up in celebration. While it wasn’t what she had intended, she supposed she had used a move! It had been an accident, yes, but she used an actual move! She wasn’t entirely defenseless anymore!

“Yes, yes, congratulations once again,” Akari’s excitement was infectious, as Ingo couldn’t help but huff a laugh through his nose. But the amusement was short-lived as his tone flattened somewhat. “Though, I hope you understand that regardless of your newfound capability, you are absolutely not uncoupling from me again for the remainder of our trip. Can you work with me on this?”

Ingo tugged back the flap of his coat collar and placed Akari in the crook of his shoulder, secure along his clavicle. Setting the coat collar back, she could see why he wanted her there — the folded fabric layer hid her well, and it would be even more effective when he got his tunic back on with its spacious hood. “My coat collar, one of my pockets, a sleeve, my hat… anywhere, please, as long as it is on my person. I do not think my heart could take a repeat occurrence of this incident.”

It felt like Ingo was sort of trying to play off the severity for her sake, but Akari didn’t have to look very deep to see that things were taking their toll on him. This entire mess of a situation had crammed a year’s worth of stress and grief into a few short weeks, and Ingo was not carrying it as well as he probably thought he was. He didn’t need any more stressful things like this. Fragility of both mind and body were pitifully clear right now.

She couldn’t let something like this happen again. And if that meant staying attached to him like a stubborn tumor for the rest of the trip, she’d have no problem doing that.

“Phi-phi!” Akari latched onto his neck in a hug and used her flipper to pat against him, trying to clearly express her outspoken agreement. She was going to stay right there for the rest of the trip, and nothing would make her move.

“Thank you.” Ingo breathed out, ridding himself of any residual anxiety. His hands moved to rub at his face, but that was the last display of self-soothing Ingo allowed himself before he stood back up, groaning quietly.

“Now. New topic — Breakfast.” Ingo began making his way back up the hill towards the base camp. “Or… lack of it. It appears you will be getting your plate of scrambled eggs after all.”

“Phi?” What did that even mean?

“I had to throw what we were going to have to the murkrow, in order to get them off of me long enough to go after you.” Ingo admitted, shaking his head. “So it appears our schedule will have to accommodate for some time to scavenge. I am well aware that you will harass me relentlessly if I attempt to skip a refuel.”

“Phi-phi!” Akari leaned over Ingo’s shoulder and spit a cold, yet harmless stream of water down the back of his tunic. Darn right she would!

“Hey-!” Ingo scrunched his shoulder suddenly, something of a laugh slipping out. He pointed a finger at her in mock admonishment. “No, do not abuse the proximity!”

Akari leaned back and did it again.

#phione Akari AU #submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #pokemon akari #phione #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #pokemon #pla #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic #those murkrow did go after them a few more times probably #but it would not have ever gotten this bad again #Akari knows not to let herself get isolated like that again even if both herself and Ingo think things are safe

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bestworstcase · 5 months

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So after that first ep of rent beyond how are we feeling about the summer maiden/mysterious hooded lady? The "No new characters!" line leans on the fourth wall pretty hard, so I feel like the audience is definitely being invited to speculate on which already established character it might be. The only viable candidate I can think of though is Starr Sanzang followed by a billion question marks and asterisked conditionals given Sun didn't recognize them at all.

i think it’s maybe a little early to take it for granted that neptune is jumping to the right conclusion (“could she be the summer maiden?”)—neither character is in the loop and qrow kicks them out when he catches them eavesdropping, and neptune is just making a guess based on the presence of two known maidens. note the framing:

the mirroring. two headmasters, two maidens, and two figures framed by the doorways and cast in deep shadow. only one is known to us, and only he steps forward into the light, but mystery girl is paired visually with qrow in the same way oscar is with theodore and winter is with raven. what is qrow’s role? he’s a spy.

given the circumstances, it would also be beyond stupid for the vacuo coalition to not have at least one informant in the ranks of the crown—and we know the crown actively recruits from shade academy. jax’s semblance creates a very serious risk should a spy be found out, necessitating extreme caution to protect her identity. and that’s a damn good reason for qrow to be as pissed as he is when he catches sun and neptune spying—those two cannot be trusted with secrets, period.

so i think there are four possibilities:

she’s the summer maiden

she’s a maiden candidate

she has silver eyes

she’s spying on the crown

or some combination thereof. notably, in before the dawn, theodore DID have rumpole spying on the crown—but she was compromised, so she’s not an option anymore. likewise, both qrow and raven are way too high profile. but the fact that theodore did have someone spying on the crown in the book makes it highly likely for the vacuo coalition to resume spying on the crown after the twins are broken out of jail.

sun’s “i already told you, there’s no way!” implies that he did recognize this girl, and he either knows who the real summer maiden is and mystery girl isn’t her OR he knows definitively that mystery girl isn’t a maiden. if it’s the former, then the summer maiden is undoubtedly starr sanzang and mystery girl is someone else. if it’s the latter, then mystery girl has to be someone sun knows well enough to have an ironclad reason to believe she isn’t the summer maiden—and i can think of exactly one character who fits:

emerald.

emerald, who is conspicuously absent in the 9.11 animatic; we see more of neon than we do of her! emerald, who until quite recently worked not for salem but for cinder fall, the lady who keeps trying to gank the other maidens; there is not a snowball’s chance in hell that emerald would have survived being the summer maiden whist in cinder’s employ.

emerald, whose semblance makes her an ideal spy… there’s the wrinkle of tyrian and mercury, but emerald was able to disguise oz and oscar as hazel convincingly enough to fool salem for a minute or two; she could easily make herself look and sound like someone else to tyrian and mercury, or make herself imperceptible to them in a pinch. dangerous yes, but the coalition cannot afford to be flying blind while salem infiltrates the crown, and emerald is their best bet.

and like oscar said… they’ve all seen what emerald can do, and they could really use someone like her on their side.

the “no new characters!” joke is way too on the nose for it to not be a hint that this is a character we’ve already met. but the full line is “besides, there’s no more room on our suspects board! no new characters!—i mean, perps!” which suggests that this is a character sun would consider to be a “suspect” in team rwby’s (and jaune’s) disappearance.

who were his other “perps”? ren, nora, and qrow. the ones who were involved in planning the evacuation from atlas/mantle and made it to vacuo safely. none of the vacuan characters introduced in before the dawn fit that description—emerald does.

and, if you look at the group shot:

she’s not actually in deep shadow, her sprite gets darkened as she’s brought into focus:

appearance-wise, the only thing we know about her is she’s “a girl” (ergo, probably somewhere in the oscar-to-wby age range of 15-19) and relatively dark-skinned by the standards of rwby’s cast. and while it’s tough to gauge perspective in this art style, oscar appears ‘taller’ than winter—

—but on a level plane, he’s quite a bit shorter than emerald, who is of a height with winter. so winter and raven are set pretty far back, and mystery girl is probably about as far back from them as they are from oscar.

here’s an approximately-similar shot from the show proper with oscar in the foreground and emerald in the back:

so accounting for different art style, mystery girl does look to be within a margin for error of emerald’s height.

and from a doylist perspective, if you’re doing a “no new characters!” joke to hint to the audience that the mysterious hooded figure is actually someone we’ve already met… doesn’t it make sense to do that with a character everyone who watches the show has a fair shot at figuring out, versus one who had a single cameo in an ancillary novel that only a small portion of the viewership is invested enough to read?

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safelynte · 3 months

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Thinking...

In a card game, there are usually 2 resources. Card count and some form of mana/energy. The 2-resource system seems to work pretty well. Each resource keeps the other in check. So, you players desire a balance of both resources to feel optimal. Designers can design cards that cost 0 in resource (or self-replacing in terms of card count) without breaking the game.

YGO exceptionally only has card count and no mana energy. The card draws/refill issue is easy to see (Pot of Greed).

But what about the other way? Increasing to a third+ resource? Probably viable. But it might be too much mindspace. Playing cards is smooth because you only need to know you have the card and then check the energy for it. Having to check twice seems cumbersome. So, it would have to be somehow an easy-to-check resource. However, MTG mixes different mana colors, and they do very well with it. I like MTG's "tapping" mechanic since it uses the cards as resource symbols. It is very easy to view & check.

I often think about this because of adding a Grid to card games or adding cards to board/grid-based games. We have Duelyst, Fights in Tight Spaces, and Alina of the Arena to reference now. Excellent games, btw. But I've always considered position & movement as extra resources to manage. Duelyst can have an explosion of options as you put more minions on the board. Alina has extremely limited movement. And gaining extra movement can be ludicrously powerful (ground slam). And I have yet to play Fights in Tight Spaces. I should get on that. All three games have very tight maps. Crowded maps ensure that there are always units in reach of each other - there is always action.

From another perspective, we can consider the hand of cards a player draws as an abstraction of their position. Thinking of Slay the Spire, for instance. If you draw no attacks, it represents that you aren't in a position to attack. If you draw no defensive cards, it represents being cornered (also good luck). So, cards like Leap and Backflip represent agility in the game. Adding a grid offloads this representation onto position and movement. An agile Alina build would have shuffle and lunge... and ground slam. Alina separates blocking and mobility effects, but Slay the Spire merges them.

Anyway, thanks for reading this aimless rambling.

#game design thoughts

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redhatmeg · 1 month

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Okay, so this is my little analysis of dreams in Restless.

Before I start I need to mention that I know that in some places it's the forshadowing of the events in the future season (little sister's coming, yada yadda) and it will be shorter than usual because I don't feel like rewatching parts of the episode to analize it scene by scene.

Anyways...

Willow's dream about going to the drama class/workshop and immediately having to perform in a play seems to indicate that she still has problems finding herself. The play is Death of a Salesman about a last day of a man who thinks he's lost in a game of life... but all the people in the play wear silly constumes and it seems like Willow's normal clothes also are a costume. Willow feels both like she's not taken seriously and like her persona is also a character she plays before everybody. Once Buffy removes her "costume", Willow looks like a sweet, shy schoolgirl she was back in S1. I think that her interrupted presentation on Narnia represents her trying to talk about things she likes and cares about (like her homosexuality and interests) but nobody listening to her.

Xander's dream is largely about being stuck, while everybody else moves on (in his dream, even Spike who becomes the Watcher under Giles's tutoring). He didn't go to college with the girls and had to work in part-time, lower-class jobs, while many people looked down on him as a loser. More importantly, there are remnents of childhood here and there - Buffy, Giles and Spike on the playground, the ice-cream truck being full of toys - and I think it simbolizes that Xander feels like he hasn't grown up yet. There is also a theme of military - both the Initiative and Apocalypse Now - and since joining a military base seemed like a viable option to Xander at some point, maybe he still considers it.

Giles's dream is about his responsiblities as a Watcher and what other Scoobies expct from him. It starts with him, Olivia and Buffy going on a fair in the middle of the cementary, but Olivia is driving a stroller and Buffy is a child - she wears children's clothes and acts like a child. This can mean both that Giles sees her as his daughter but also that she's sometimes irresponsible and treats her mission very lightly. Then we have Spike who chose a new path for himself and tells Giles to figure something out (there is also crying Olivia in the background who Giles dismisses because of his duties... twice). Finally in the Bronze he meets already attacked Willow and Xander, who expect him to figure out what's going on. They are also distracted by Anya doing a stand up comedy and when Giles is going to tell them where to look at, he's asked to sing, so he literally sings to them the solution. Everybody expects him to have answers and generally during his exposition everyone's eyes are on him. But there's more to him than that.

Finally Buffy's dream is partly about being alone, partly about things to come, and partly about the first Slayer. The most striking detail, in my opinion, is that scene where Riley is in the Initiative with unmodified Adam and tells Buffy that he just got promoted and they talked about world domination. Probably Buffy feels like he - as former Initiative's soldier - can still become a villain, since he was part of this government program for so long. But it can also mean that when she was in the Initiative she was patronized by those government people.

Sorry if it's so short. These are all the things that came to my mind.

#meg watches buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #rupert giles #xander harris #4x22 restless

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red-handed-tamarin · 4 months

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tam is opening writing REQUESTS (free)

CURRENT QUEUE STATUS: DONE WITH THIS. NOT DOING IT ANYMORE LOL

These are not commissions, though in some administrative ways they may be treated as such (i.e. a queue with limited slots, attempted adherence to prompts, due dates / limited time turnaround etc.). I will be opening up a queue to write pieces FOR FREE. See below for guidance!

How many slots will be open?

For now I'll be opening three slots at a time. This seems like the most manageable number for me at the moment but could change in the future.

What is the word count limit for requests?

The absolute minimum word count will be 300. The maximum word count offered will likely be 1000, but in general, I'll be shooting for the 500-800 word range.

What kind of requests are you taking?

There are MANY things I'd be very happy to write, so don't feel limited by the will-write list below; anything not specifically blacklisted can be requested, but I reserve the right to turn down any request for any reason at any time.

WILL WRITE:

fanfiction, original fiction, or nonfiction

first, second, or third person

OCs, reader inserts

any non-PWP genre

a variety of formats

most kinks

incest

ao3 categorical archive warnings: rape, underage, graphic violence, character death

WON'T WRITE (BLACKLIST):

real people fiction (rpf) involving anyone who is NOT the requester; I'm willing to write the requester into the story if that is desired

harry potter or any jk rowling content

pure smut (I'm just no good at it)

scat/watersports

woundfucking

MASTERLIST OF MY FANDOMS (wip) (don't feel beholden to this, I'm just providing it for inspiration and reference)

What do I need to include in my request?

The following elements are critical for any request (please ensure they are included!):

characters/ships and what media they're from

a specific scenario

a desired resolution

squicks / do not writes (DNWs)

whether you are OPEN to nsfw content or would prefer all SFW

information about an OC or self-insert: name/nickname, pronouns, physical description and style, personality, relevant backstory points

Optional elements include (I can't make any guarantees but I'll see what fits!):

preferred genres

favorite tropes

any and all additional information about OCs/self-inserts. I'm very interested in every little detail, please share!!

Here are some examples of strong, viable requests:

"please write yusuke and kuwabara from yu yu hakusho having a beach day together with a kiss at the end! I don't like poly, so please don't include that, and I'm not interested in NSFW at this time. I also prefer fluff and friends-to-lovers, and I don't mind if it's first person."

"I request dick grayson and jason todd, both batman characters, training together while jason is robin. it can be open-ended, but there should be a mutual attraction there. jason can be and probably should be underage in this, but not younger than 14. would love to see nsfw content if the mood strikes."

"I'm looking for someone to write for my OC, who is a pokemon trainer based on myself. here's a link (x) to my character's profile on my tumblr. it would be really fun if this OC could be shipped with brock; they're both 15 at the time. I really want them duking it out at a pokemon gym. my character should win and then brock should ask my character on a date. please keep it SFW and pretty vanilla, but I really like flirty text messages, so if you wanted to make textfic part of it, that would be cool."

"can you do some analytical nonfiction about anakin's relationship with droids in star wars, and how it has to do with his history as a slave? I personally think he personifies things that people depersonify because of that, but I'd like to know your take. if you have anything to say about sexual violence please tag it and put it under a read more, that stuff upsets me."

How do I submit a request?

You can submit a request either on or off anon on tumblr, or you can use this google survey!

Notes:

Writing pieces will typically have a turnaround of two weeks or less.

Once written, the piece will be posted publicly to my AO3 and I will tag you. Please let me know if you want to remain anonymous! Requests CAN be made anonymously on tumblr, but I won't be able to tag you upon completion, so please make sure to subscribe on AO3!

I will never knowingly use AI for any aspect of my writing.

Please signal boost this post!

#tam speaks #requests open #commissions open #writing commissions #writing requests

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annjo-wolfe · 8 months

Text

I'm probably going to hell for this, but-

I've read my fair share of oviposition monsterfucker stuff and I propose a change to the standard oviposition formula.

In most shit where the egg "receiver" is a different species (usually human), the egg "giver" (usually a male of the species, i.e., naga, lizard man, drider, etc.) both fertilises and deposits the eggs.

Don't get me wrong, I love that shit. But I've contemplated the biological implications of this. What's the point of a male and female sex in a species, if the male has the fertilised eggs ready to go anyway? What do the females contribute?

some science -> Irl ovipositors are the female anatomy and have to be fertilised by male.

WHAT I PROPOSE!!

A species (naga, drider, etc.) that is hermaphroditic, having working male and female parts. Combat (either actual combat or friendlier, flirtier "combat") is a part of courtship and the losing party is the one that "receives" the eggs (already fertilised, they just need an "incubator").

It just so happens that humans often "lose" that courtship fight ;)

More sciency/biology ramblings under the cut...

Now whether the offspring receive genetic material from both "parents" is up to you. Me thinks either, its a battle of genetic dominance, where the winner's offspring take no genetic material from the loser/egg receiver and therefore the "fittest" of get to pass on their DNA. Or the fertilised eggs receive some DNA from the egg holder (while in the womb due to cell exchange*) to ensure species diversity.

*cell and DNA exchange between fetus and parent occurs throughout mammalian pregnancies even after fetus conception.

Would that mean eggs could receive DNA from egg holders outside their species? WHO KNOWS!

First option means, they just need a partner with a suitable womb-like structure to work since they don't give any DNA. The second option, when paired with the idea that the incubating eggs can receive genetic material from species outside their own, means interspecies pairings would inherently ensure genetic diversity while still technically remaining one species.

If eggs can't receive genetic material from outside their own species then only intraspecies pairings would produce viable offspring.

Of course, they could just dump the eggs and leave (as Goniobranchus reticulatus - a species of colourful sea slugs do, which this whole idea was partly based upon). But me like the pregnancy fluff. And perhaps the species evolved to stay with partners and care for young, to ensure their survival. Through only the breeding season or perhaps for life.

Shoutout to @thetravelerwrites for their Naga x Human piece for planting the seed as well as @moonloredraws for her comic Stellar Jewels for watering that seed into this monsterfucker plant of insanity!!

#exophilia #pregnancy #monster fucker #terato #naga x human #drider x human #naga #drider #biology #science #?#what have i unleashed upon the world #rambles #writing

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moongothic · 1 month

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I'm not clear on why Crocodile couldn't have already been stealth trans before Ivankov transed his gender, like yeah Oda has a particular way he draws women that might be a little hard to disguise, but so many details in Crocodile's costume COULD be used to disguise even an hourglass and boobs, and real people have been stealth since long before HRT was a thing

You are right, Croc could've been stealth long before meeting Ivankov in theory. It's just that there's a few little things we would then need to considder that honestly makes Crocodile being openly trans an oddly more viable option, at least in my mind

For one, yeah, there is the issue of how Oda draws women. Like, let's be clear about one thing, Oda can and is 100% ABLE to draw female characters who aren't just his default hourglass figure big tiddy anime girls. Like that is the default, but he 100% can and DOES draw characters outside that trope (and yes, most exceptions to the trope tend to be older women, so just to name a few youngish-adult ladies, Miss Monday, Sandersonia and Marigold all break Oda's typical way of drawing adult women (and are all queens)) Another thing is that Oda can make character designs that can appear somewhat androgynous, Cavendish and Dellinger just to name at the top of my head (Dellinger was famously mistaken for a girl by fans when first introduced)

So theoretically it is possible Oda could make young, pre-t Crocodile a bit androgynous both in physical appearance and how he dressed himself (Oda did mention how he actually intentionally drew Nami and Robin with smaller tits during the first two arcs of Wano because women traditionally binded during the time, so it was for like historical accuracy. So he could give pre-t Croc a flatter chest and/or have him binding) (Sidenote the genderbent Croc from the SBS could be seen as post-pregnancy Croc; Pregnancy hormones do fuck up your body, so a pre-preg Croc and post-preg Croc could appear differently in that way too)

And let me tell you, nothing would make me happier than if pre-t Crocodile was like a reverse Cavendish (giving Sailor Uranus) instead of the default big tiddy anime lady Oda always does. The only reason I'm intentionally trying to kill my own hopes and dreams ahead of time is because we saw how Oda drew Yamato. Mind you, Yamato does not have to do jack shit, bind or do anything else, in order to pass as a man. He's a man regardless of how he presents himself, big tiddy or not. But because of how Oda drew Yamato, I don't want to hold onto any hope that he would draw pre-t Croc any different. Mainly because I don't want to end up disappointed. Like I said, it's theoretically possible, Oda could do it if he wanted to, I'm just not sure he would, so I'm basically just trying to brace myself for the worst lmao

(Sidenote though, I don't see any reason why pre-t Croc would've dressed any different from how he dresses now, based on how Oda makes character designs in general and Yamato too, how he dresses however the fuck he wants. Like I am 100% sure pre-t Croc would've worn his silly little waistcoats and pants just like he does now. Absolutely do not comprehend it whenever people draw him in a dress or a skirt, he would not have worn that I fucking promise you that)

The other big thing is how, if Crocodad Real, he would've had to have transitioned after giving birth at 27, and that begs the question of "why wouldn't he have transitioned before ever getting pregnant"

I know someone's going to argue "he just accepted his body for what it was and didn't need to transition to be considdered a real man", and while that's true as an overall statement about trans people in our world, like. If Crocodile was "fine with his body being the way it was and didn't want to transition" then why did he do it later in life then. Clearly he did want to transition. Why the fuck would you wait and go through extra years of dysphoria when you could just end it and enjoy euphoria instead.

And I can only think of two explanations; either Ivankov didn't get their Devil Fruit until around/after Crocodile got knocked up so he didn't have the possibility to transition until it was too late. Or, as I have discussed in the past; maybe Crocodile never figured his gender shit out until after getting knocked up.

I have discussed in the past how sometimes, the path of least resistance, the explanation that requires the least explaining, might be the most likely one. It's easier for me to assume Crocodile is openly trans and that he was Narnia-deep in the closet/in denial about his gender until he got pregnant and his dysphoria became unbearable (so much so it finally cracked his egg). Crocodile being stealth trans (and Oda will draw him in a way that the theory's viable) but wasn't able to transition until later in life because Ivankov hadn't eaten their DF yet is plausible, but I feel like I have to have higher hopes for that version to happen.

But that is just how I feel, what makes sense to me and what I feel like I could expect Oda to actually do in the story. And I could be 100% wrong, only time will tell

(Sidenote; theoretically it is also plausible Crocodile never even met Ivankov until during/after pregnancy but that could potentially go against the "rookie era" comment from Impel Down. Yes, I did just discuss how that one could be retconned in the previous ask, but as I presonally believe in hte "they met when Croc as in his early 20s but didn't transition until later" version, I felt like I should acknowledge that)

#Moon posting #Asks #OP Meta #Crocodad #Did not proofread we die like men #CW Pregnancy #Again just to re-iterate though. I would love a reverse Cavendish pre-t Croc. I would love that so much it's unreal #I want him to walk down the street and make everyone women and men alike swoon for him because he's hot and androgynous #Do not get me wrong I am an Appreciator of Big Tiddy. I just do not need that version of pre-t Croc. We have Big Tiddy elsewhere #(Namely everywhere. You turn your head and smack right into some big tiddy because Oda can't stop himself from drawing them)#But I just don't wanna get my hopes and end up disappointed

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jellyfishbeansontoast · 1 year

Text

Christine

ok this was supposed to be based off the song Christine by lucy dacus but with a happy ending, i got a bit carried away though so there’s like nothing to do with the song. pls enjoy some tooth rotting fluff i havent proofread. sorry if it moves too fast im not a slowburn kinda person. thank you so mucn @demxters for the help!!

Robin Buckley x reade

word count: 1300

Sitting alone at a party on a Friday night was not your idea of fun but it seemed to be the only option viable as you couldn’t find Robin or Steve. They’re probably upstairs doing things you don’t even want to know about; it makes you shudder just thinking about it. You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had. You go to get another one, but the room suddenly swings on its side, you stumble forward, practically launching yourself into whoever’s in front.

“Woah Y/n, lets get you home, yeah?”

You smile at the voice of your favourite person, wrapping your arms around her. “Hey robin.” Your heart flutters just being so close. This is wrong, she’s with Steve, you know you shouldn’t be so close but she’s magnetic.

Her hand on your face drags you out of your thoughts, another arm is put around your shoulders but this one is a lot heavier. Right, Steve. They both lead you out of the house, Steve bearing most of the weight before loading you into his car.

Robin sits in the back with you, pulling you into her. She strokes your cheek soothingly and it’s not long before your heavy eyelids are drooping shut. Steve makes eye contact with her in the rearview mirror, smirking when he sees her hand. If you were awake to see it your suspicions of them dating would’ve been shot down immediately.

The journey ends almost too quickly for Robin, she curses Steve mentally for driving so fast. She shakes your shoulders gently to wake you up. She’s angry at herself for not making a move like she’d promised Steve. He’d dragged her out of the room trying to get her to be his wing-woman and in a flash the night was ending. “See you tomorrow?” She hopes she doesn’t sound too desperate.

You nod, halfway through a yawn. Waving at Steve, you nearly fall out of the car before staggering your way up the path. You don’t remember ever getting into bed but when the morning comes you wake accompanied by a stinging headache. You almost can’t tell if the knocking is the door or your head, but it only gets louder and more persistent. Dragging yourself out of bed you make your way downstairs, the light that streams in through the now open door blinds you, sending piercing shockwaves through your head.

“I would’ve brought my camera if I knew this was the morning look we’d be getting.”

You’re hoping you’re doing a sufficient job of glaring daggers at Steve, but you can barely open your eyes. Robin pokes her head out from behind him, “Delivery service! Here to take care of the hangover” she holds out a bag and the smell is heavenly, grease is leeching its way through the paper but you couldn’t care less.

“Do you wanna come in?” but Robin’s already through the door, leading you through your own house by the arm.

You look back at Steve “I’m just the taxi” he calls before leaving you two alone. You’re now incredibly aware of how her fingers are still wrapped around your wrist, just inches away from your hand, if your hand just happened to ‘slip’ you could intertwine your fingers with hers. You shake the thoughts from your head and continue following her up the stairs and into your room.

“Food then you need sleep” she commands, standing in the doorway of your room. She knows she shouldn’t but she can’t help but be incredibly nosy. You’re sitting on your bed, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up the back of your neck. “This is cute” she’s holding a photo of the two of you after one of her band performances.

“I s’pose” You mumble.

She clutches the photo to her heart “are you saying I’m not cute?”

“N-no that’s not what I meant at all”

“So you’re saying I am cute”

“Robin!” your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“I’m just kidding” and in a second she’s sitting next to you on the bed. She grabs your hand and pulls you back until you’re both lying flat. “You need hangover recovery sleep” you’d forgotten about your hangover in her presence but now you can feel it all coming back. You try to fight a yawn but there’s no getting past Robin, “see, you’re tired.”

You wake up half an hour later, disorientated. Robin’s mouth is partly open, soft breaths escaping her lips, you’re so close you can feel them tickling your cheek. She’s adorable when she’s sleeping, although you think she’s adorable all the time anyway. Her eyes begin to open groggily, her face scrunching up in the cutest way you could imagine. Shit. She’s going to catch you staring. You squeeze your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. You can hear her rustling around, great she think’s you’re a creep and now she’s leaving. Before your thoughts can continue any further you can feel her pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your breath catches and you’re sure you’ve given yourself away, if you have, she pretends not to notice.

For the next week you avoid her like the plague. You know she simply meant it as a friendly gesture but it’s been playing in your head every moment of the day. She’s come into your work a few times that week, you’re friendly as usual but she can tell something is off. Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes and it breaks her to see you like it. Every fibre of your being aches for her but you have to stay apart for Steve’s sake, you’d do anything for her but be a homewrecker. He was so beat up after Nancy you couldn’t be the one to do that to him for a second time.

It's been a whole week since the last time you properly spoke to Robin. There’s a tapping on your window as you’re just about to turn out the light. You grab the baseball bat Steve left once before turning around, after all the shit you’d been through there was no being too safe, you’re able to relax a bit when you see it’s only Robin, athough your heart rate picks up for a different reason. The window creaks when you lift it up, grabbing Robin’s hands and pulling her through. “How did you even get up here?”

She’s out of breath but she points to the tree by your window. Shaking your head in disbelief you put the bat back where it was.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Robin doesn’t beat around the bush. “I haven’t” even you know the lie doesn’t sound convincing.

“Yes, you have.” She steps even closer to you.

It’s now or never, “I like you” you mumble, “but you’re with Steve so I get it.”

The sound of her laugh graces your ears, “Me? With Steve? You can’t be serious.” Her laughter stops when she sees how desperately serious you actually look, the tears welling in your eyes. She cups your face in her hands, wiping the tears that spill on to your cheeks. She sighs biting her lip “Steve was supposed to help me get with you”

“With me?”

“Yes, but now I see how awful he was at that, remind me never to take his advice again. Anyway, the point is, I’m not with Steve, never was and never will be, can I kiss you now?”

The kiss is sweeter than any you’ve ever had, her hands still cupping your face whilst yours find their place on her waist. Her lips feel familiar, like you’ve kissed them a million times over. She breaks the kiss reluctantly, pressing her forehead against yours “I can’t believe you thought I was with Steve.”

#robin buckley x reader #robin x reader #stranger things #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin x you #robin x y/n #stranger things fluff #robin buckley fluff

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vriskabot · 7 months

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davris morning routine hcs?

YOU CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD I WAS PLAYING MINECRAFT cracks my knuckles. this kinda turned into sleeping habit and self care hcs as a whole sorry not sorry -vriska is not a night owl or a morning person but she IS a long and heavy sleeper. do not wake her up before she is good and ready or you WILL get torn a new asshole bare minimum. if the verbal lashing does not work she will escalate immediately and directly to grievous bodily harm -dave is probably the only person who can manage this without dying but even THEN he would much rather get on her ass about going to sleep on time than get on her ass about getting up in the morning -dave is a much lighter sleeper and honestly naturally a nap guy. i think on a genetic level the strilondes dont sleep long even when they DO manage to sleep (dirk and rose are notorious insomniacs) but i dont think dave really minds it -nobody knows when he sleeps but he does! hes just Constantly Around -this was only further reinforced by living with bro and being trained and all that jazz so daves sort of got a built in alarm clock (lol time player) -in that vein dave can kinda predict when vriska is gonna be up based on what time shes gone to sleep so he can be in and out of the bathroom before she needs to be in there which is. a very very good thing -i think dave was a lot more anal (and anxious) about what he looked like when he was a teen (to the point of being unable to leave the house if his hair wasnt JUST right) but hes way more lax about it now -that being said i also dont think hes gone fully curly girl now that hes okay with his hair having a single iota of texture whatsoever. he just combs it into the style he wants it to dry in and lets nature take the wheel after that (its very soft and vriska LOVES to touch and tousle it) -he MAYBE uses a light pomade while wet if anything but thats only if he NEEDS his hair to stay nice all day -vriska on the other hand. woo buddy. -depending on how im feeling about her styling, shes either full 17 step curly hair routine or blowdried + straightened + hairsprayed until its crunchy even if her hair is naturally already straight -like im sorry shes SO emo -i think a lot of that stemmed from the sort of persona she put on to protect herself that ended up becoming her taste Anyway -the full face of makeup + done hair carries a very Intentional feeling that makes her seem a little less off the wall, has-no-clue-what-shes-doing than she really IS -ultimately its about control! having more control over the interpersonal dynamics and the flow of things based on the kind of assumptions people make about her based on the way she presents herself -dave was doing his similarly insane hair routine at 13 14 15 for the same exact reasons -dont let her fool you though its all smoke and mirrors -when she was in her teens it was definitely a full coverage foundation + powder foundation + pencil liner for EVERYTHING situation and loads of dark eyeshadow -in her adulthood though i think shed be alright with like. a much more lightweight base like bbcream or even just concealer in spots for daily wear and she saves the full face beat for more special occasions like dates and shit -as much as i think dave finds later on in life that he actually kinda enjoys cooking, hes not up making a Full Breakfast every day -theyre both perfectly fine with like. toast and microwave breakfast sausage to eat -vriska however is not to be trusted with the stove. she sucks SO bad at cooking save for the few dishes shes ruined enough times that shes got the experience to do it right -both of them are horrible caffeine fiends. they will drink soda or energy drinks with breakfast and then wonder why their fucking stomachs hurt later -i think in the case of NEEDING caffeine vriska is much more varied in her intake sources--energy drinks, soda, coffee, and tea are all viable options depending on how much energy she feels she needs -dave though... he feels like the "starts with an energy drink and only drinks other stuff when he has a craving" kinda guy

-though maybe thats the raging adhd you tell me -their bed is almost never ever made and both of them live in organized chaos. whether or not they ENJOY the chaos is a different story entirely -vriska is a blanket hog AND a pillow hog so they eventually had to settle on each having their own blankets -vriska loathes mint toothpaste and dave is a cinnamon toothpaste guy so you can imagine how much of a eureka moment vriska had the first time she spent the night -and yes that means she was just bearing with the mint because she had no clue there was any other option -uhhhhh i cant think of much else more on this topic i hope u enjoyed <3

#homestuck #dave strider #vriska serket #vriska #davris #davevris #we8comic #ironies in the fire #q+a with vel #Anonymous #I THINK THAT ONE GOT A LITTLE AWAY FROM ME #i had to wrack my brain about morning routines because im not consistent at all with mine #ANYWAY THESE ARE FUN!!! ive actually not thought about some of this stuff a lot so #its kinda interesting to see what bubbles up out of my brain when im presented with an angle i never considered hee hee #dont ask me about the weird gap in the text block. i literally cannot post it without it

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