#hello! I hope you’re friend not foe!

[dxrkhexrtmuses]

The World as We Know It.

For @vampiric-bite

Tico had just set up camp, his food was cooking as his bright purple fur fluttered in the breeze of this warm night. He was up above on a cliff to see if anyone or anything was coming up at him. His mask was off and laying on a tree stump along with his guns and massive sword. He had pulled off his jacket and folded it and placed it on the trunk beside his things and his backpack was sitting just beside everything else.

His dark red eye currently on and paying attention to his food he was now stirring with his good paw. All he had on were his pale brown pants and his tail flicked softly from side to side along with his long tapered ears. His little black nose would flicker every few minutes, like a bunny’s would and suddenly he froze. His snout scrunched up slightly, and he turned his head in the direction of what he smelled, his ears searching for a sound, and without realizing it, picked up a gun that looked like it had spider legs coming at you. His rad gun. He held it in both paws, one covered green and black muck.

He didn’t lift it yet, but he did call out in Ronan language, his voice light and kind, he had to yell to make it seem like he was intimidating, “Who’s there?! Show yourself or I will start firing!”

[itsabouttimex2]

Hello! I have a request: How would Wukong and Macaque react if the reader accidentally got stuck inside the scroll of memory and met their "old brotherhood era"-selves?

And a little bonus concept: how would they react if their past-versions tried "adopting" the reader and attempted to keep them inside the scroll?

(I’ve done students and friends, so I thought I’d go with blood children for this fic!)

Sun Wukong’s first move is to panic. However it is that you get trapped in the scroll, he freaks out. The better scenario is that it was just an accident, and you put your hands on something you should’ve known better than to touch. Then he can compose himself properly, with nothing to light the fuse that his nerves have become.

If you were, however, explicitly imprisoned by an enemy, then the old Monkey King comes to visit in more ways one. Wukong attacks your assailant head on, ending the extremely one-sided fight the way he would have in his youth- bloodily and lacking in restraint or mercy. There’s no hesitation, none of his learned compassion, none of the kindly teachings of Tang Sanzang.

All that matters to him right now is that someone touched his kid, and that they’ll die for it. He wishes the manner and method could be more personal, but the important part is getting you back.

Then he can methodically track down every last bit of information about his mangled corpse of a foe, and snuff out anyone else who might be interested in laying a finger on you.

But those plans are for a later day.

Wukong leaves behind a few clones to take care of the corpse and approaches the ink-cursed artifact with a determined glare.

“Dad’s coming, bud. Just hang in there.”

With those few words, he dives into the scroll himself, ready to start rioting through his own past to find you.

He really, really hopes that you don’t see anything too awful. In spite of his modern-day oddities and long-lasting flaws, he really does care about being a good influence and keeping you out of danger. Wukong wants you to see the best of him- learning diligently under Master Subodhi, establishing the sanctuary that is Flower Fruit Mountain, defeating the Demon Bull King. The very best he is and has to offer, to the world and to you.

Instead, he finds you curiously watching in on one of his meeting with the demons he once called his brothers. With that knowledge in mind, maybe they could be called your long-lost uncles.

At least, you seem to think so, or at least think that they can’t be all too dangerous, because you jump down from the tree that you’re standing in to get a closer look at the mixed crew of demons and celestials. The dry leaves beneath your feet loudly crunch and fragment as you step on them immediately giving away your location to the team.

Past!Wukong; ever eager and far more reckless before he had matured in his great journey, is the first to go looking for you, honing in on your location with ease.

The real Wukong watches from a close distance, knowing that his old self wouldn’t try to hurt you. None of the sworn brothers would hurt you- they weren’t bad people. Just severely misguided and well-intentioned. He could wait for an opportune moment to snatch you up and escape. He wanted to rush in, gins blazing… but alerting the Brotherhood was a bad idea. Trying to take on everyone at once wasn’t exactly ideal, especially with you nearby. Even if no one was outright trying to harm you, crossfire was a very real worry.

So the Great Sage reminds himself- no one will hurt you.

Past!Wukong himself, especially. He might’ve been somewhat arrogant and power-hungry and misguided back them, but his intentions were good and he was far from a villain. He knew that.

And, he would never hurt one of his own kind.

The scroll’s version of the Monkey King stops short in shock, staring at you with wide, glittering eyes. Love at first sight, just the way the real one had felt when he held you in his arms, new to the world and bundled tight in a blanket made from strand of his own hair.

The simian’s tail sweeps across the ground, lightly thumping grooves into the dirt- a clear sign that he’s about to pounce. You don’t pick up on that in time, and aren’t prepared for a memory of your father to spring on you with wide-open arms.

Past!Wukong scoops you into his powerful, furry arms, holding you close to his chest as he jumps up and down, nearly squealing in glee. He swings you around a little too fast, nearly losing grip of you during his last rotation. And before you can argue to protest or shake off the newfound nausea plaguing you, he unceremoniously plops you down and starts to groom through your fur, chatting to you hyperactively. His words are fast and energetic, most of them about how he thought he and Macaque were the only mystic monkeys in the world, and how great it is to have another, and how much all of his brothers are going to love meeting you.

Wukong would be waiting for an opening for quite a while, it seemed.

In spite of his caution, he’d grow impatient soon enough. He didn’t want to share you, after all- not even with himself.

Not every parent wants a kid to follow in their footsteps. Macaque intentionally never speaks of his past to you, unless it’s something that will make him look or sound good. You don’t need to hear about him being a doormat to his sworn brothers. You don’t need to hear about him trying to kill a group of innocent pilgrims. And you don’t need to know that; in spite of his fighting prowess and shadow magic, he was killed by the greatest hero the world has ever known.

Macaque knows that you learning these things would shift your perspective of him, perhaps irreparably. He wants you to think of him as your personal hero, as a guardian and defender and as a warrior, capable of taking on and defeating anyone.

So he’s careful to curate the information that reaches your ears. Nothing about beating a holy monk unconscious. Or about manipulating, attacking and trying to kill the Monkey King’s successor. Or his brutal and unprovoked assault on the Dragon Palace of the East Sea.

You aren’t going to turn out like him- Macaque plans on making sure of that. Yes, he’ll teach you his skills. He’ll course you in chain whips and spiked staffs, put you through rigorous training to ensure that you become a master of the shadows as he is.

Macaque cherishes you more than anything else in the world. You may well be the only thing he cherishes at this point. And he understands that he might not always be around to protect you, or that an enemy might come creeping to you while he’s off. He won’t always be by your side, no matter how badly he wants to. So you have to train with him, learn his ways, master his skills. He’ll wrestle you out of bed and into the dojo each day if he has to.

But you aren’t going to be his sidekick or successor, no matter how much you beg or plead. Even if you break down crying about how much you want to help him, or how you worry about him and his safety, he shoots down your offers and attempts. He can’t lose you. He’s lost far too much by now to risk his child’s life.

Macaque understands why you want to help him, he really does.

The two of you had been separated for five hundred years. He had died when you were young, and left you alone in an ever-changing world, forced to grow and survive without him. You had been embittered by the struggle, but never allowed it to break you- you resolved to remain the person you had always been, the person he had taught you to be.

You had wanted to preserve his memory.

Five hundred years later, and you were just as he left you, though a little sour, and perhaps hardened from strife.

But it had been you.

Macaque had tackled you down on sight, bearing down on your form with wide open arms and teary eyes, allowing himself to be vulnerable for once. In return, you had wept into the fur of his chest, tightly clinging and clutching to his frame with arms and legs alike, refusing to be parted from the father you had lost so long ago.

It was supposed to stay like that. And it did, for a while, the two of you content and ready to start healing side by side.

But the Scroll goes and ruins everything, taking you from him as he stands and watches, helpless to save you.

He’s not too unlike Wukong here- his reaction massively differs depending on whether or not you were attacked or simply made a mistake and handled the scroll improperly.

Except he’s far more brutal than his rival ever would be. Wukong; even enraged at you being endangered, has the compassion (and urgency) to finish his foe quickly, settling for a single decisive blow over a hundred slow and torturous attacks.

Macaque’s sable hands do not spare that golden mercy.

He rips the attacker apart piece by piece, the shadows around him thrumming with white-hot rage as they pump out clone after clone. They angrily snag flesh with clawing hands and tear it away, slowly plucking the screaming assailant to the bone.

Allowing his thirst for vengeance to blind him, Macaque stands for a while over the fresh corpse, satisfied and content with the outcome of the fight. He laughs and taunts, kicking the skeleton around for a moment or two.

And a bone rolls right to the scroll that contains you.

The demon snaps into high gear, reminded that you that you’re alone and probably scared in an unfamiliar place, with no way to get back home.

Macaque rips the scroll open, plunging into inky depths before him without a second spared to hesitation. All he leaves in his wake is a single shadowy portal. He’ll create a second inside the scroll, allowing you both to escape unharmed once he finds you.

All that’s left to do is track you down- and he’s sure that he knows where to find you.

Because he spent such a needlessly long time with your attacker, you’ve already been swept up by his scroll counterpart, held in his arms carefully.

Past!Macaque is a gentler, softer version of your father. He’s worried about you, a simian like himself, scared and alone in an unfamiliar place.

You cling back to him, not ready to accept that you were torn from your father once more, just as helpless this time as you were the last. This man isn’t really your father- he’s not real at all. He’s an ancient facsimile, a lingering ebon remembrance of what Macaque once was.

But maybe a little bit of the real deal resonates in this raven replica.

Past!Macaque bears an immediate, intense fondness for you, wrapping you snug in his arms, trying to soothe your frightened tears. He gently pats your back, in the hope that he can console you enough to have a proper talk. For some reason he can’t quite understand, he wants to know more about you.

You only get a few minutes into that talk before your father tracks you both down and smashes the duplicates head open.

Revulsion and nausea turn your stomach in circles as the real Macaque carries you out of the scroll- you might be a little traumatized by what he’s just done, but it’s nothing that he doesn’t have under his control. (It is, actually, but he’s a little too prideful to admit it.)

But all that matters to your father is that he has you back. Aren’t you lucky?

[theresattrpgforthat]

Have you ever come across a game with a deckbuilding element? I've seen deckbuilding games with some roleplaying adjacent additions (Like the arkham horror card game), but not the other way around.

THEME: Deck-building Games

Hello friend, so I think I have a few that are in the same kind of field as deck-builders, although your mileage may vary. I certainly hope there are also folks who see this and know of some more games to add to this little list!

This Ship Is No Mother, by Thomas || New Madras.

This Ship Is No Mother is a game about people in space, working jobs that are probably going to get them killed. Inspired by movies like Alien and games like Mothership and Dread, this is for fans of tension, creepy-crawlies, and general horror. Mechanically, it's a card-based Forged in the Dark game, first in the series of games currently called the Cardsharp Sonata.

In this game, players start with a full deck of cards and as you play, that deck will run down. When the deck ends, there is a climactic moment of panic as one of the characters is going to do something stupid and get themselves (and maybe everyone else) killed.

I’d say that This Ship Is No Mother is kind of adjacent to a deck-building game. You use a regular deck of playing cards to resolve actions, but the resolution system takes inspiration from Blades in the Dark. Your cards don’t stay in your own personal deck; but you can choose to hold onto certain cards in your hand so that you can play them in dramatically appropriate moments, or spend them to make sure your character succeeds when they need to. The game was originally designed to run Mothership scenarios in a more story-game friendly way, so if you like Forged in the Dark mechanics, you might want to check out this game.

Perfect Draw!, by Double Summon Games.

Perfect Draw! is a tabletop role-playing game based on the Powered By The Apocalypse framework that combines Trading Card Games with collaborative storytelling - allowing you to tell stories similar to card game anime like Yu-Gi-Oh!, Duel Masters, and CardFight! Vanguard.

In Perfect Draw! you can make any deck you imagine using our open-ended card creation system - then, clash ideals with villains and allies alike in tense card game combat. Your deck is an extension of your beliefs and the blade that allows you to change the world. Use your passion, skill, and friendship to get the upper hand on foes and save the people you care about most!

Perfect Draw is a game in which you design your cards as you add them to your hand. Your cards exist as physical objects in your hand as you play, but they also represent special attacks and moves in the fiction of the game. As you play, you’ll gain more cards, but rather than relying on symbols or text to tell you what these cards do, you’ll have to author them yourself, using guidelines and inspiration from the specific character playbooks. You’ll also be rolling dice in the style of PbtA games, thus combining the feeling of a card duelling game and a TTRPG.

If you want to emulate the tropes of card-collecting games while designing your custom moves as you play, you might want to try out Perfect Draw!

Cardsharps, by Pageantry Games.

Armed with a deck of cards, this game helps you to nimbly guide your cast of characters on a merry waltz from mishap to catastrophe. For the tone, think of an old-timey farce, or a Coen Brothers movie, or perhaps your own muddled and terrifying existence.

Another game that uses playing cards, Cardsharps looks like it can fit a number of settings, with the four suits representing your stats. You shuffle your hand whenever you enter a test of some kind, and draw a random one - if you draw the Suit you need, you do it, if you get the same colour but wrong suit you get a mixed success, and if you draw the wrong colour completely, it’s a failure.

The randomness that comes from the shuffle reminds me a little bit of deck-building card games I’ve played in the past, although you’re not really adding anything to your hand. I think the core concept is interesting though, and might be something you could play around with to make a game that suits your tastes.

Orchidelirium, by Æther Corp.

Take on the mantle of a grizzled and hardy orchid hunter in 1865, traversing the depths of uncharted territories in search of rare, elusive, and above all, expensive orchids for your shady employer, J. Carmichael & Associates.

For the Games Master, Orchidelirium provides a simple ruleset, an adventure, and improvisation tools to help build an adventure of discovery at the table.

Orchidelerium is another game that uses playing cards with some cards in your hand being used as resources, while others are pulled from the deck to represent obstacles. I don’t know if it’s exactly a deck-building game because your hand is so small, but it does have a few similarities, namely the fact that different cards have different values, and thus will be used differently depending on the nature of the obstacle. The game itself revolves around orchid-hunters in the late 1800’s, which means that colonial themes are going to be present - a good thing to keep in mind when introducing this game to your play group.

Parselings, by Smunchy Games.

Parselings is a modern Deck building RPG about using collaborative word magic and discovering your place in it. The game takes place in a world like our own, but with one major difference – to some, words have literal power. Parsecytes, swarms of ravenous ink-like parasitic organisms, have emerged into the world causing irreversible changes to society and our ecosystem. 

When a Parsecyte invades a human host, it forms a symbiosis with them, together becoming an entity known as a Parseling. At a glance, Parselings are indiscernible from most other humans except for the labels on their skin and the ink mixed into their blood. When brought together in groups, these individuals become greater than the sum of their parts. The infected hosts can use their tattoos to form phrases and sculpt the world to their desires. This power has come to be known as a Parse.

You will play as one of these beings. Struggling to strike a balance between appeasing the Parsecyte within, and proving you are a complex human being who cannot only be defined by a few careless words. This is both a curse and a blessing, but with the others that share your affliction, the world is your oyster. 

This is the first game I think of when someone asks about deck-building ttrpgs. Each player gets a deck that uses regular playing cards to represent core aspects of your characters. The game isn’t dice-less - you still need some d6’s and d10’s - but those dice will only be rolled by the GM. Card decks aren’t the only interesting mechanic in Parselings - you’ll also construct pieces of your character with words that describe who they are and how they fit into the world around them. I think this might be a neat game to check out if you want to explore questions of identity while mixing in a little bit of the supernatural.

Smunchy Games has two supplements for Parselings: Infer Memorial Station, which works as an introductory adventure, and Nominal City Guide, a setting for groups to pick up and explore.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

🦉 🩹 if you’re still doing them!

Unexpected Surprises - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of Minne's sickness and death, Jack is a miserable drunk, sad unrequited kisses, the reader makes a deal.

Wordcount: 5486

Summary: 'Night Owl Co-host' wasn't the job you signed up for, and you really weren't prepared to be a TV personality when getting coffee for the real stars was what you were expecting, but maybe you could do this as long as your new friends kept cheering you on.

Notes: According to my docs I've written for Jack more than anyone so far, him and Abner have so much love in my inbox and I'm so happy for that 😊 I almost missed this one since I saved the starts in my drafts, so I'm super glad I looked lol. Bit different plot this time, so far it's my only fic without smut for him haha but I've wanted to explore this kind of friendship for a while, so I'm glad I was able to get the chance to, I hope you enjoy it~ 💗💗💗

When you went in for your interview at UBC Studies, you expected to get stuck with the unfortunate but decent-paying job of getting others some coffee, taking some calls, and being bossed around by some snooty TV people who thought themselves better than you. What you didn't expect was for them to take one look at you, hear your voice and match it with your outgoing personality, and instead give you a job alongside their newest sign, Jack Delroy, as his co-host. You didn't know a thing about the guy, just that he came from radio, and those people had a tendency to be just as stuck up as their television counterparts. You weren't excited, but the paycheck was miles better than what you would've gotten had you gone with the internship, so you spent the next month preparing your best showman self for the cameras with the help of your friends and family, who were all excited to see you make an absolute fool of yourself on live television.

Schadenfreude, your oldest foe.

The dress rehearsal ran fine, the seats all empty as everyone practiced their cues for the first show, got used to where they'd be sitting or standing or pointing their cameras, backstage abuzz with energy as people grabbed coffee to calm their nerves about tomorrow and sneakily poured in a little extra flavour of their own when that didn't help. The man of the hour himself, Mr. Delroy, or Jack as he wanted everyone to call him, seemed pretty okay, he'd only had a chance to give you a quick hello before he was being rushed off to go over his markers, and you were in the middle of wondering where the hell you were supposed to come in when you were ushered off to the area beside the band. You were to stay there primarily, offer your own comedic quips as you saw fit as long as they were sponsor-safe, but for the most part you just had to rehearse your own bits to go along with his teleprompted speeches.

Basically: stand there, look nice, boost him up.

So you did just that, your grin as wide as it would go as everyone practiced, you really needed this job and you were not about to serve coffee to these people after being their boss, your charm on full blast just like his as final checks were given and everyone celebrated in early excitement for tomorrow night. That was another thing, getting stuck on Night Owls meant you had to become one, no more early bedtimes so you could get in a good 10 hours; now you would be getting home at almost 2AM after everything, and still be expected to get up at 7 so you could be a model citizen and do things like shop and go to the bank and socialize. You dreaded that part more than the job itself, already feeling tired as you pulled into the lot and dragged yourself over to his studio. 

It was already busy again, other shows already filming as you traversed the back halls you were now familiar with, and you made sure you looked presentable before stepping backstage to find Jack and go over your very first routine together. You found him talking to your producer, Leo Fiske, who was already smoking what had to be his second pack of the day and running on pure nerves while Jack looked so wired he might've actually been able to run a mile or two before the show started. Neither noticed you until you approached, Jack’s eyes meeting yours a second before Leo turned and grabbed onto your shoulders.

‘The hell have you been?’ he instantly demanded, Jack muttering for him to calm down as you tore yourself free and readjusted your sleeves.

‘There's still an hour before the show, I'm not late,’ you defended yourself, Leo shaking his head and motioning towards everyone already there.

‘I dunno what kinda job you had before this, but if you're an hour early you're already an hour late,’ he explained, Jack hushing him again before Leo noticed something else and had to run off and fix it before he could continue with you. You just stared, used to his eccentric personality already, so you weren't upset or anything, but this would definitely not help your desire to go home and go to bed in the upcoming nights.

‘Don't worry about him,’ Jack said softly as he watched him go, your hand already up to wave off his concern.

‘I really don't,’ you admitted with a chuckle, and as you went for your own coffee you realized that this was the first time you'd actually been alone with him since production started; despite being co-hosts, both of your attentions had been torn elsewhere the past month, all your smalltalk and introductions surrounded by other people and large gaps as you stood in your places and worked out what activities you'd be doing as the show went on. ‘So, big night tonight, huh? I've never done anything like this before, if I mess up I'll have to quit,’ you joked, and he just drank the rest of his coffee before shaking his head and tossing the cup into the trash.

‘Nah, I've seen how quick you are on your feet, if you make any mistakes I'm sure you'll be able to spin it and make the audience laugh, and that's all that really matters,’ he told you with a smile, and you felt something flutter in your stomach at the sight of it; okay, weird, he wasn't usually your type and was technically more your boss than anything despite being around the same age, you'd have to decipher that one when you got home tonight. ‘Besides, if you can't think of anything I'll be sure to cover you, I've done my fair share of, you'll forgive the expression, fuck ups on air,’ he admitted lowly with a wink, the fluttering turning to something stronger as you just nodded back. 

‘What're you doing still standing around? You think you're gunna wear that on camera? I told you to match with Jack, there's gotta be something in here we can get you in- Jesus, tomorrow you two are going shopping together so you don't clash like this again.’ Leo was a flash flood of words as he came up behind you, your eyes wide as you had seconds to take in what he was saying before you were being herded off towards the section of backstage dedicated to makeup, hair, and costumes. Jack just chuckled as he followed after so that the poor woman would know how to match you, your carefully picked outfit respectfully torn off of you behind a curtain while Leo flipped through the available backups while ignoring the advice of the costumer. 

By the time midnight was finally about to hit, you were wearing an entirely new outfit, Jack was making sure everything was in place, and Leo was halfway through that second pack as you took a deep breath and headed out in front of everyone. The seats were all packed to your surprise, you weren't sure for the longest time if this new late night show would be able to compete with the others, but as you got into position and the band started to warm up, you felt a new confidence take over as you pictured how hard Jack had been working to get here, how much he wanted this. As such, you gave it your all as you announced your sponsors and very first guests, your best professional voice on as you mimicked other hosts you'd been watching to prepare for tonight. The music was loud behind you, upping your energy even more as Jack’s cue ramped up, and when you called out his name and everyone cheered you felt a bit of pride join the butterflies as the door opened and he danced out.

‘Good evening, Night Owls! I’m your host, Jack Delroy, and thank you for allowing me into your living rooms for the first of what I hope will be many, many shows,’ he declared as he took his mark, an extremely brief prayer to the heavens you noticed was not part of his rehearsals offered up now that he was in front of the cameras. ‘I’d like to thank everyone who helped bring this dream to life, especially my dear mom and dad back in Berwyn, Illinois, who I know are sitting in front of their TV set, big smiles on their faces, watching “The Tonight Show” with Johnny Carson.”’ A drum beat was hit right on cue as he made a pained face, the audience eating it up as you also couldn’t help but laugh despite hearing the bit over and over while he practiced, and the smile that followed kicked those butterflies into overdrive as he gazed up at everyone starting to fall in love with him already.

You felt that pride only grow as the night went on, Jack feeding you all the energy you needed throughout the show until you didn't need it anymore, the two of you meshing so well it was like you'd always known each other. All of his jokes landed, his personality translated greatly to the camera, and you couldn't help but tease when a woman in the audience called him handsome, his face lighting up faster than the 4th of July at the comment. You saw it and couldn't help but join in, Jack hiding from the cameras playfully as the audience agreed, someone else saying they'd been listening to his show for years and that he did not have a face for radio, and when he laughed loud you laughed right along with him.

All in all it was a successful first night, very much so if you did say so yourself, and when it was over and the cameras were cut you all gathered out on stage for hugs and cheers as the audience gave their final applause and headed out the doors. Leo, who might have burned straight through to his fourth pack you did not doubt, hooked his arms around both your neck and Jack's, big kisses pressed to your cheeks as he promised champagne for everyone who was still awake enough to stick around. You wanted to decline, go home and sleep, but the moment you saw Jack loosen his tie and accept a glass for a toast you found yourself not so tired anymore.

You got more used to your new schedule as the weeks turned to months, Night Owls getting more popular as time went on to everyone's delight, and as you became closer as co-hosts you ended up finding a pretty good friend in Jack as well. Being a proper night owl was hard, but he helped you get into a livable routine of it as he invited you out before the show, made sure you got used to eating so you wouldn't be running on empty despite the late hour, a quick coffee not enough to cut it you learned after the first week.

It was while you were out on one of these pre-show dinners that you learned about Madeleine, his girlfriend that he'd met a couple months ago and officially asked out with the news that Night Owls was in the Top 10. Your smile faltered for just a second before you caught yourself and shook her hand, and she was polite and beautiful as she sat down next to Jack and blushed as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her neck. You'd never seen him like this before, so doting and flustered and very clearly in love as he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and you kept your smile up all the way through their talks about how they met, how much she adored him while he tried to switch the conversation to her, up until you headed for the show, and when you walked through the doors Leo took one look at you and offered you his whiskey without a word, a new one already poured by the time you drank it back.

You weren't jealous of Madeleine, you weren't, but by God if you didn't feel a twinge every time she showed up backstage on her way home from one of her own shows to kiss him goodnight. He was head over heels and it showed when he went on stage, his energy unmatched as he delivered the best hours of his life to the masses every weeknight. You were there for every single one, never letting the facade crack as you stood next to him, played off his jokes, spun the wheel and got more hugs than him from happy winners as his slightly younger and conventionally attractive counterpart, as Leo once described you, and even acted alongside him in some random sketches since you both weren't actors and your campiness brought charm to it. 

You weren't jealous of her, but you couldn't deny your feelings for him the night he announced his engagement, not even a year into their relationship, as Jack tapped his glass with his knife and got everyone's attention. He declared it to the room, everyone who was able to attend out for a big Night Owl dinner to celebrate one year on air, and after you all toasted to that he surprised you all with invitations to the wedding, which was to be a small gathering of just their family and closest friends, which he now considered all of you to be. You toasted to that as well, but didn't realize you'd started crying until Leo handed you a tissue and offered to pour you more wine, since you'd just finished off your glass. You didn't stand out, some of the others were crying too over the news, but you had a feeling that Leo knew your tears weren't in joy for the happy couple when he offered you his handkerchief next.

It got better with time, honestly you didn't even think that your crush was that strong to begin with, it was more so the fact that your best friend was taken than anything, and you were able to push past it with great success. As the first year turned into two you only became closer, and you didn't even feel jealous anymore when you and Leo were invited up to Madeleine's family cottage up in the mountains that Christmas. You had a wonderful time, and you joined in the teasings right along with her as Jack was gifted the ugliest sweater you'd ever seen in your life, which he of course wore proudly while denying its ugliness, although you could not tell if it was just another bit or not. Gifts were exchanged, drinks were had, and when you fell asleep in the spare room while watching the snowfall outside you felt like you'd found yourself a family with those three, and that meant much more to you than any crush ever would.

It broke your heart when Madeleine's diagnosis was shared with you that morning a few years in, genuinely shattered it as his voice cracked and he had to cover his mouth to stop himself from breaking down. ‘We just received the news last night,’ he confided in you, the two of you currently having breakfast together because he couldn't be home when she wasn't there. ‘Her parents are coming down, her sister is at the hospital with her while she's doing more tests to be sure, I don't… I stopped smoking inside for her, she hated the smell of it, and she's never smoked a day in her life, I don't understand, I just don't-’

You reached across the table to place your hand on his arm, and he held onto you as he finally did break down, people glancing over to watch and guess as you fought not to glare at them. You moved to his side of the table, protecting him with your silhouette, and when the waitress came over to take your orders you asked for a bit more time while he hunched over his cold coffee and just breathed.

The atmosphere was solemn as Jack wheeled Madeleine backstage to get ready, both of your friends looking like the life had been sucked out of them as everyone gave her their polite but quiet hellos. You went last, only going because Leo nudged you directly in the spine to get your legs to move, and she took off her oxygen mask so she could pull you down into a tight hug.

‘Take care of him for me,’ she whispered in your ear just quietly enough for you to hear, and you knew you were crying before you could even pull away.

You gave them all the space they needed during the show, no time for quips or jokes as she talked about how they met, their hands clasped the entire hour as everyone just listened. No one hid their tears, not even Jack as she told him she loved him, and she was still beautiful as you saw him whisper it back to her.

When the show was over there were so many goodbyes, no one honestly knew how much time she had left, and she still made sure to talk to everyone until it became too much and she needed a break. The crowd thinned then, until it was just you, Jack and Madeleine, and even Leo, who refused to leave until he could lock up the place, although you all knew why he kept hanging around. He didn't even smoke as she was brought back out to their car, your producer graciously helping Jack lift her into her seat even though she insisted she could, just to be polite.

You felt useless as you just stood there, making sure the chair wouldn't roll away until it was folded and placed carefully into the backseat, and when you and Leo waved them goodbye he didn't even complain and say that life was tough so you'd better get used to it when you clung to his jacket and cried about how unfair the world was being to your friends.

Madeleine passed two weeks later, and it was to no one's surprise when Jack went missing.

Even you didn't know where he was as you waited in your apartment for a single sign that he was still in New York, your phone pulled so far into the living room to make sure you'd hear it from any room if it rang that you’d tripped on the overextended cord a couple times already. It was weird not going to work, but even still your body didn't let you sleep until 2AM as usual no matter what time you climbed into bed. Despite that, it was hard to wake up knowing that Madeleine was now gone and Jack was nowhere to be found, and you ended up a bit of a recluse once the tabloids found out where you lived and tried to see if you knew anything.

You didn't, which stung, but even if you did you'd never say a thing to lead them to wherever he was, you could never betray your friend like that when he was hurting so much.

It was around midnight during the middle of the second week that your phone finally rang, and when all you heard on the other side was Leo's voice giving you an address you had barely enough sense to write it down and race over as fast as you could. You found Jack there, at Leo's second house just outside New York, the address unlisted so the vultures couldn't get to him when he needed a break, the man of the hour looking so tired and drained it was like a part of him literally died along with her, not just figuratively. The first thing you did was want to hug him the moment you saw him sitting in the next room, but before you could Leo grabbed you by the arm and all but dragged you through the nearest door, which ended up being a much too spacious closet for one Leo Fiske, you thought.

‘Take it easy on him, he almost went back to Chicago,’ he told you in a hushed voice, which only made you feel worse because you wouldn’t have known. ‘He’s been crashing here since the funeral, said home was too painful or something, only just today let me tell you he was here cause he isn’t about to run anymore.’ He tried to play it off that he didn’t care and that this was a nuisance to him, but you could see in his eyes that he was just as worried as you were.

‘I will,’ you promised as you kept yourself from crumbling, just knowing that he’d been here hiding from the world because his pain was too much made your heart ache, and when Leo finally let you go you approached him carefully; he was hunched over a photo album, it stuffed with the years they’d spent together, a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and his half-filled glass in hand as he looked too miserable to even cry anymore. ‘Jack?’ you asked softly, and when he looked up it was almost like he didn’t even see you as he expected to see Madeleine once more, like this was all one big bad dream and he was about to wake up.

‘Oh, when did you get here?’ he mumbled when his eyes focused and saw you, and you couldn’t hide your own pain as you moved to sit down.

‘Just now, Leo called me,’ you explained, a bit of space between you as he nodded, drank the rest of his whiskey, and turned the page.

‘Ah yeah, I told him he could, didn’t I?’ It wasn’t really a question, and he didn’t wait for your answer as he tried to pour himself more and ended up dropping the bottle. It shattered against the hard surface of the table and spilled the dark liquid everywhere, his album almost falling into it before your hands quickly shot out to save it. At the thought of him almost ruining what he had left of her he broke down again, whiskey dripping onto the carpet below as he hid his face in his hands and started to cry.

‘I got it, Jack,’ Leo quickly said as he tossed down some embroidered towels to soak it up, clearly money wasn’t an issue for him as he ruined even more of his expensive things to help his friend, the album set safely aside as the two of you cleaned up his mess.

‘My fault, it’s all my fault…’ he moaned as his legs were lifted and more towels were tossed down, his movements starting to sway as the alcohol took hold of him. ‘Minnie, what did I do…?’

‘I think it’s time he gets to bed, you’ll find it upstairs, 3rd door on the left,’ Leo muttered under his breath as Jack almost fell onto the cushions, gravity starting to take hold as well. You just nodded and stood, hoisting his arm over your shoulders and helping him stand while Leo took care of the mess, the sound of the couch being moved following you all the way to the stairs. You trailed whiskey footsteps behind you for a bit, shiny shoe prints that showed where you’d been as you headed up, his head still lucid enough that he didn’t fall or leave you to support his weight entirely.

His bedroom was a wreck, the splendor of the house lost in the mess he’d made in his depression, but you just carefully stepped around fallen clothes and his open suitcase until you reached the bed. He collapsed onto it and just sobbed, it making him look small for once as he curled up, and you were in the middle of taking his shoes off for him when he looked up and something flashed across his face. ‘Oh, there you are, when did you get here?’ he asked again, and you swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you placed his shoes on the ground.

‘Just now,’ you repeated, and he nodded before staring at the empty space beside him. He whimpered as he ran his hand over the comforter, it was too empty after so many years of her being beside him every night, and when you sat down and his hand found yours in the dark you didn’t object. He pulled you into that space, eyes unfocused again in his drunken haze, he was absolutely ruined and you wished you could do more for him as you brushed his hair out of his eyes and let him find comfort in your presence.

‘What did I do… this was never supposed to happen…’ he was murmuring to himself, and you just whispered that it was okay, his hand finding your face next as he traced the shapes in the dim light. ‘It was never supposed to turn out this way… you have to believe me… please believe me, Minne…’ You shut your eyes, your hand trembling as you held his hand and tried to decipher what he meant, but you were never able to as he suddenly let out a small gasp, the hand gently brushing your cheek now pressed against you fully. ‘Minnie?’

Your eyes shot open to see him staring at you, his own glazed over from the whiskey as he saw her in your face, and you only cried harder as he started to sit up.

‘I’ve missed you, I missed you so much,’ he told her, but she was you, and he couldn’t hear your voice as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and held you close. You didn’t look anything like her, but it must not have mattered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips cold against your skin as he sobbed, and you were ready to pretend until sleep took him when you felt him kiss you properly; you pulled away, startled, but he held on tight and tried again, the tears never stopping as he whispered apologies against your mouth, and when he tried a third time you kissed him back.

You hadn’t had feelings for him in years, there were no butterflies as your friend then curled against your chest and hugged you around the waist as he kept mumbling nonsense only he understood, but you’d give him one more minute with Madeleine if you truly could, you would trade anything for that. You couldn’t find Jack Delroy in the man falling asleep against you, he was missing just as much as she was as you rubbed his back and let him rest, and when Leo came upstairs and found you like that he just sighed and walked over. He didn’t say a word as he helped free you, his handkerchief offered to you again as you wiped your eyes and blew your nose, Jack now sleeping as peacefully as his heart would let him.

‘I’ll stay with him, it’s been bad tonight, you head home for now,’ he said softly, and you nodded before giving him one final glance and walking back to the front door. It felt even colder out as you headed for your car, the keys in your hand when you heard footsteps behind you, and when you spun around you saw a stranger standing there, leaning against Leo’s car. ‘Who’re you?’ you demanded angrily, you were not about to allow some lowlife paparazzi to invade this place and take pictures of his grief, but he had no camera on him, the stranger just holding up a hand nonchalantly.

‘Just a friend of Jack’s, I heard he was here,’ the man replied, and your brows furrowed instantly.

‘I know Jack’s friends, I’ve never seen you before,’ you hissed, and he shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.

‘We met back in Cali years ago, when I heard what happened I came down right away.’ He lit the end with a large, Zippo lighter, an owl etched into the side facing you you were just barely able to see in the moonlight, and it clinked loudly shut as he blew the smoke your way. ‘You two, you seem pretty close, anything going on that I should know about?’

‘Wha- how dare you insinuate anything just weeks after his wife-’ you started to threaten as you stepped closer, and he held up his hand again and brushed shoulder-length, blonde hair aside with a small laugh.

‘Easy, it was just an observation,’ he chuckled, but you still wanted to punch his lights out as he blew more smoke towards you and made you cough. ‘You’d still do anything for him though, right? I mean, working together for so many years, becoming that close, it must tear you up inside to see him like this, doesn’t it?’

‘Of course it does, they’re my family, Madeleine was my friend, if I could help him in any way then I would, it’s not even a question,’ you spat out, your voice rising just enough for him to motion for you to calm down before you garnered any attention from nosy neighbours.

‘So if you could help him, you would?’ he asked cryptically, and you didn’t know what kind of friend he was supposed to be, but you wouldn’t lie about this, not when you still had his tears drying on your shirt.

‘Yes, I would trade anything to be able to help him get his life back,’ you said seriously, and you swore you saw the stranger’s blue eyes shine as the clouds above uncovered the moon.

‘Interesting, you really care about him, huh?’ he thought aloud, and when you just nodded he chuckled again and held the cigarette between his lips. ‘I’ll ask our mutual friends back in Cali if they know any tricks to get him outta this funk, he’ll be back on camera in no time,’ he told you, cutting off your anger at his depression being condensed down to just a ‘funk’ as he held out his hand for you to shake. You didn’t want to, but he wasn’t letting up as his smile only grew, the corner of his mouth twitching eagerly as he waited, so you just sighed and grabbed on for the world’s fastest shake when he held on tight, grabbed his cigarette, and pressed the end directly into the back of your hand.

‘Ow! What the fuck?!’ you yelped as you pulled back, but there was no mark to go along with the burn, and when you looked back up you were alone again, the clouds covering the moon once more as an owl hooted in the darkness beyond where you couldn’t see.

Two weeks later, Jack was all over the news again as UBC announced his return, along with the addition of his new co-host, an old TV veteran by the name of Gus McConnell who meshed with him so well it was like he’d always been there. You smiled as you heard the news, something in your chest aching as you watched from your parents’ couch; you’d gotten sick the past week and had to quit your old job, temporarily moving back home with them since it was getting bad enough you couldn’t take care of yourself, unfortunately, but everyone was hopeful for the future thanks to your determination.

The memory of whatever your old job was was hazy now as a cough wracked through you, but that didn’t matter much as you got cozy under the blanket and tried not to let the pain overtake your excitement. You’d been a fan of Jack’s for years, you could still remember his first show so clearly almost like you’d been there, but you’d never had the time to grab yourself a ticket to join the studio audience no matter how much fun you thought it would be. The segment wasn’t long, just a quick announcement since he’d disappeared somewhere for a month, but you still watched with bated breath as a date showed up on screen.

His return show would be the following Monday, a fresh start to make up for his absence, and already you were excited to watch as you grabbed the remote and flipped from the news to a movie you could fall asleep to despite the early hours of the day. You were a night owl, tried and true, and you wanted to be awake for midnight so you could catch that night’s rerun in preparation for Monday, the small, circular birthmark on the back of your hand throbbing faintly as you shut your eyes and fell asleep.

[wrapmeinatortilla]

Secrets in the Shadows - Y.JW smau

There are three things Y/n knows for certain:

1.) Danielle is her best friend

2.) Her favorite color is pink

3.) And the seven guys showing up in her dreams are both creepy and hot as hell

When Y/n starts college at her dream university, Decelis Academy, her dreams start to creep their way into reality. Things that are hidden come to light and she starts wishing some would have just stayed in the shadows.

Alternatively, you’re thrown into a world of supernatural beings. Are they friends, foes, or lovers? The choice is yours.

Pairing - Yang Jungwon x fem!reader

Featuring: all of Enhypen , Yunjin of Le Sserafim, Mark Lee of NCT, Hanni and Danielle from New Jeans, and finally 3RACHA as occasional characters

Genre: half smau, half written, fantasy, college!au, slight angst, slight crack, whole lot of fluff

Warnings: profanity, suggestive jokes/humor, murder, kay why ess jokes

Tortilla Note: Hello everyone! This is my first tumblr work and first smau so bare with me while I try to figure everything out! I hope you enjoy this. Updates will probably be a bit sporadic depending on what I have time to do!

Status - ONGOING

Taglist is OPEN

Profiles 1 Profiles 1.5

Profiles 2 Profiles 2.5

Prologue

Chapter 1 - First Day at Decelis

Chapter 2 - Y/n has no idea where she is

Chapter 3 - Sunoo gets a vibe check from God

Chapter 4 - A real catch

Chapter 5 - The Strange Case of Mark Lee and the Prophetic Dreamer

Chapter 6 - A Hypothesis (or well maybe I'm no scientist)

Chapter 7 - Muffins, Cakepops, and Coffee Spills

Chapter 8 - When in Doubt Blame Riki

Chapter 9 - Jungwon’s Persistent Migraine

Chapter 10 - Overprotective Friends Come in Handy

Chapter 11 - Creep

Chapter 12 - Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 13 - Poison in my Blood

[delicrieux]

Hello, how are you? I hope you are doing well! I've had this idea in my mind for a while: could you please write a Harry Potter imagine where Draco asks Professor Lupin's daugther on a date to Hogsmeade? She's in Gryffindor. Thank you!

NIGHT, THE LIGHT  | endless drabble series (winter edition)  

summary: differences can actually be appealing pairing: draco malfoy x f!lupin!reader a/n: used 24. countless candles from this list <3

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open for the winter prompts list 1 & 2 !

Hogwarts drowns in candle light. White wax drips onto the walls and the floors and melts in puddles, leaving an earthy, herbal scent in its wake. They appear when the days start growing shorter and nights longer, and disappear when spring eventually comes. During December, it’s all a warm, cosy glow. You’ve never felt more at home here than during winter.

The curfew is upon you, and if a wandering professor should catch you sneaking back to the Gryffindor common room, you’d eagerly inform them that you had spent your hours studying, terribly afraid to disappoint your father. And if your father still worked here and caught you, you would tell him the truth: I was trying to hex the brooms so Filtch’d have something to do in the morning.

Well, a part of the truth, for you think that as kind as your father is, he would not take kindly to the news. You’d rather he not know at all, not now, lest he convinces you to change your mind via a strongly worded letter. 

You had been thinking of ways to ruin Filtch’s morning for a while now - you could not, in good conciseness, leave that burden for the Weasley twins to carry. Plan made and swiftly executed, you had been on the prowl for more shenanigans to cause. Surely inspiration would strike when the moon’s out, it always does.

In the candle-lit corridors you had ran into Draco, seeming a bit pale in the blousy light. Neither friend nor foe, he stuck to tormenting your friends on odd occasion when he became bored. Those jabs and jeers had died down drastically as the years went by. During year six, he preferred to ignore the lot of you, thoughtful about his musings as he was. 

He had grown pretty, and somewhat secluded, and sometimes he was even tolerable, perhaps even more than that. So you met in the dark next to the sleeping portraits, and your heart had skipped a beat which you reasoned could only be from fright.

He gave you a once-over, and his expression revealed nothing, “Quite late.”

“Haven’t noticed.” You said.

“Then you’re blind as a bat.”

“Charmed, truly,” You muttered, “where were you, anyway?”

“What do you care?” He quipped. You shrugged.

“That you’re right, I don’t. Will be on my way, now-”

And as you moved to pass him, he suddenly became alert, “Wait.”

By all means, you did not have to. But you did, and when you looked at him, he seemed torn and much older, no longer the petty boy Harry insist him on being.

“...Well?” You probed once the silence stretched.

“The trip to Hogsmeade is coming up.” He said it perfectly natural, even bored, “Would you like to go with me?”

You thought you misheard him. Brows drawn and eyes squinted, you inquired a simple, “What?”

“Are you deaf also?”

“Quite rude to insult me after just asking me out.” You bit back, “Why would I want to go with you, anyway?”

He shrugged, “It’s not a no.”

Your mind rushed a mile a minute, tripping over ideas and thoughts that were barely coherent: one was of you laughing and drinking butter beer in the damp and warm haven of the Three Broomsticks and the next was Harry lecturing you about unwanted company. 

But you were always one for mischief, and the excitement in your chest was palpable enough for you to fear he’d hear the pulses of your heart, and so you bit down a smile and shrugged, “I’ll think about it. I guess.”

“Don’t think too long.”

“What? Am I on the clock? Will you ask someone else if I don’t give you an answer.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound very convincing.

“Fine. We’ll go. But if we’ll have to stop at Junko’s.”

“Fine.”

Silence, again.

“Well, goodnight, Draco.”

“See you in the morning.”

All the way to your common room you could only think one thing: what the bloody hell just happened?

hope you like it! xx

[felassan]

New BioWare Blog post.

🔊 BIOWARE COMMUNITY UPDATE: WRITING OUR WORLDS

by BioWare on September 29 2022

"Hello, everyone! And welcome back to another BioWare™ Community Update. It’s been a little while since we last spoke, but our work continues—as does the storytelling. 

So far, years of effort have gone into our next game, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf™, with hundreds of people working to bring this shared vision to life. We’ve been quietly building it behind the scenes for a while now, so we wanted to give you a look at some stuff we’ve been working on! But let’s start with a little recap for those who might be new around here.

Dragon Age is a series that puts you in the heart of a magical world, but what happens while you’re there—who lives and dies, who rises and falls, who loves and loses—that’s up to you. There are no right choices… only those you make.

At the heart of every one of our games are our stories and characters. Each tale is told by the people who live in them—companions who fight at your side and foes who challenge your every move. This is core to the experiences we craft and is what we believe makes a “BioWare RPG” what it is.

Each character has their own motivations and goals that influence how the story plays out, but so do you. The Hero of Ferelden. The Champion of Kirkwall. The Herald of Andraste. Each of them marked their legacy in the annals of history, but time marches forward and the age of these heroes cannot last forever. As a friend of ours once said, “it’s time for a new hero.”

Making a game that carries forth the stories that came before it while still being a starting point for someone brand-new can be tough—deep lore can seem daunting to new players—but it’s also an exciting challenge! The development process is iterative and dynamic. Ideas get concepted, tested, thrown out, brought back, and changed constantly during early stages, all in the pursuit of getting things just right. And it’s very collaborative, too! Everyone helps each other to build something we hope will excite you.

So, let’s talk about that.

As we said, storytelling is at the core of what we do. Our writers helm the creation of your narrative experiences and work as part of a talented team with editors, producers, and quality verifiers to build out the story, characters, dialogue, and more. And that’s not even getting into the other teams who work so closely with them to bring these tales to life!

But what does working on the writing and editing teams entail? And how are we going about writing for Dreadwolf? It’s not like writing a book where everyone has the same experience on the page. Each player interacts with the team’s work differently based on the choices they make, how much of the game they interact with, and the kind of character they want to play. Here’s how our team is thinking about that, but first…

Please enjoy this sneak peek at writing for Dreadwolf, directly from the game’s codex!

(Codex assets are not representative of in-game format.)

Written by Sylvia Feketekuty; edited by Cameron Harris

Hey! Care to do us the honor of introducing yourselves and telling our community a little bit about what you do?

Ryan Cormier: Hello! I’m one of three narrative editors on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. Our job is to ensure BioWare’s stories are told with clarity, consistency, and accuracy. That might mean correcting comma splices in a codex entry, deciding if a hero’s dramatic speech carries on one line too long, reviewing plot points, or helping a writer choose which scene to tweak without impacting the overall arc. Somewhere in between, we’re spell-checking some ridiculously long elven word or standardizing a character’s voice.

Sylvia Feketekuty: Hi, I’m a senior writer on Dreadwolf. I wrote of one of the codex entries here, “Misconceptions about the Necropolis” (as well as the character who “penned” the entry). These codices are just a tiny snippet of the game, but we wanted to share them as a springboard for talking about our writing and editing process.

Sometimes, when I tell people I write for games, they politely try to figure out how to ask, "But writing dialogue doesn’t take up your entire day every day, does it?" Truthfully, no. I'm responsible for coming up with plots, characters, and dialogue, but also for designing missions with our level designers. I work with them on pacing, information flow, and addressing many, many revisions as feedback comes in.

We're also responsible for a lot of non-voiced text: codex entries, notes in the world, item descriptions, weapon names, etc. A huge part of my job is just explaining the narrative needs of my characters and missions to other departments and coordinating it all with them.

It sounds like you two do more than the average person might expect an editor or writer to do. How do you two work together, then?

Sylvia: Way early on during the concepting stages, the editing team gives their feedback with the rest of the narrative team on high-level stuff like the new characters, plot, and themes. Once first-draft writing for a character or major mission is complete, we also have editors give us their formal feedback during our big peer reviews.

Ryan: At this stage, as we near preproduction, editors talk with writers about big-picture topics like characters, lore, and themes. These elements need the most time. Editing starts broadly and becomes detailed later in the process because it doesn’t help a writer to hear, “This is a run-on sentence,” when we’re still five drafts away from final. We save line edits for last. Until then, editors try to hold their tongues on grammar and punctuation.

Sylvia: After the peer review, when revisions are done and we’re in a position to start recording voiced dialogue, I work more closely with the editing team. Editors will suggest better ways to make one sentence flow into the next, spot inconsistencies, and point out when I’ve written something nonsensical. Every editor also “owns” certain character voices, just like writers do, and I’ll often go to them to hash out something for a particular character or to get a second opinion.

Ryan: Here, in the final drafts, no edit is too picky. This is where editors tweak the writing with changes to grammar, punctuation, and flow and where the passive voice dies a swift death. We read lines aloud at our desks while examining lore, tone, voice, and other details that change how a line reads in the recording booth or appears in the subtitles. Voice-recording notes and plot summaries are finalized, too. All this fine-tuning involves close work between a writer and editor while we pass edits back and forth, fix this, change that, change it back, debate, agree, and finally send it off for recording and translation.

So from the very beginning to the very end, our editors and writers are in lockstep with each other. What about the rest of the devs and other teams?

Ryan: Editors are the bridge between the writers and out-of-studio partners like actors and localizers. Once final drafts are complete, our game dialogue is sent to our in-house performance team, voice actors, and translators, all working in numerous languages. Editors work with those teams daily and are the troubleshooters when technical or cultural concerns arise. Sometimes, an English joke just doesn’t land in the localized copy, or maybe we learn that a name we chose for an idyllic village in Thedas has an inappropriate meaning in another language.

Sylvia: One of the best Dragon Age: Inquisition™ translator questions I ever saw was from a German translator who wanted to know what one character meant when he talked about “dancers with tassels.”

I mentioned this above, but most of my cross-team work is keeping up communication. Does the audio team have all the context they need? Does Character Art know a plot point requires an alternate character outfit? People often compare narrative games to movies, but a lot of them are nothing like movies, structurally speaking. RPGs the size of ours are more like a full season of a bizarrely nonlinear television series with so many mutable, moving parts.

That definitely paints quite the picture. You mentioned your work on DA:I just then, too. What about on Dreadwolf? What’s it like writing for the next game?

Sylvia: It’s been eight years since our last DA game came out. I’ve seen a lot of adults fondly reminiscing about how they played it as teens! Dragon Age: Dreadwolf has been a balance of providing answers to long-standing questions for veteran fans while making a game that new players, or someone who only played DA:I years ago, can also get into.

Ryan: Unlike the vast galaxies we explore in our other franchises, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf returns us to Thedas, where we can revisit friends and places that are familiar. Some fans haven’t spent time with Dragon Age since the 2014 release of Inquisition, while others have read every comic and story published since. Others never played a Dragon Age game at all and have no idea who the bald guy is (he’s Solas).

It’s a varied audience, and development for Dreadwolf has included conversations about how the team can simultaneously reward our returning fans and welcome new ones.

Sylvia: There are other things, of course, but we can’t really get into that until the game comes out.

Well, we’ll see what the future holds, then. If you were speaking to a fan, new or old, what would you tell them makes a Dragon Age game unique?

Sylvia: To me, BioWare has always carried the old-school D&D legacy in its veins. I try to inject some of what I love about tabletop roleplaying into my work: bizarre encounters, prideful villains, adventurers thrust together, arcs with big stakes that retain a sense of playfulness or adventure. It’s everything I’ve liked in the best fantasy tabletop games I’ve played in.

Ryan: For me, it's the characters. A Dragon Age story is full of heroes you want to visit a Kirkwall tavern with, or at a stylish Antivan party; travelling with friends whose witty banter makes the time fly by. The greatest compliment fans give our characters is the years of art, cosplay, and fan fiction that Dragon Age has inspired. That’s a sincere connection between our audience and our creations. And a villain who makes people want to spit on the ground at the mention of their name? Even better.

Though we can’t yet show our community our characters acting in-game, dialogue isn’t our only option. What about these codex entries? Is that something you could talk about?

Ryan: Yes! Codex entries are valuable because they provide information that might otherwise disrupt the flow of the game. For example, players might want details about the Grand Necropolis in Nevarra, but characters shouldn’t sound like tour guides. Before any writing, the narrative team discusses which entries are required and which aren’t. It’s crucial to properly time codex unlocks with player progression. No one wants a dozen entries only ten minutes into the game, but interested players shouldn’t have to wait long to learn more about the people, places, and concepts introduced. Does a codex unlock when something’s first mentioned? When a related character appears? Is the entry only required if they actually interact with said thing?

Sylvia: Making all our codex entries “in-world” (letters, books, notes, etc.) gives us ways to play with information. I chose the “Misconceptions about the Necropolis” codex to show everyone because it was really fun to write. I wanted the in-game author to be frustrated with Brother Genitivi’s portrayal of the Necropolis while also trying to deny the depth of his irritation with said world-famous scholar. It’s a diary, yet we see the author still feels obligated to exercise a measure of decorum in his private writing. And the micro-revelation at the end is that it’s someone he knows in real life, not far-off Genitivi, who is needling the poor guy about Nevarra’s death rituals.

It’s fun to layer things like this, and players are savvy about those layers. They pick up (and I think appreciate) the character coming through. It’s also a collaborative creative process. My Necropolis codex entry, like many others, was edited by Cameron Harris, another of our editors. In this case, Cameron caught that I had set file information incorrectly and also adjusted the overall stylization for consistency

Here are a couple more codex entries for you. Let us know what you think of them!

Visnomer entry written by Patrick Weekes | Dowager entry written by Lukas Kristjanson Both edited by Ryan Cormier

We hope you enjoyed this first discussion about how our writing and editing teams are thinking about Dreadwolf! Every step of the way, we’re working together as a team, even in ways you might not imagine. From integrating written materials into the engine itself to our devs doing placeholder dialogue for characters, it’s a process that evolves over time.

But your efforts never stop, either! Naturally, when Solas shows up, so do many of you, and with incredible creations, no less. So in honor of the Dread Wolf himself, we wanted to showcase some amazing pieces we’ve seen. [please see source link for these] Oh, and we absolutely could not leave out Handsome Solas.

Every day, the game gets one step closer to our next big development milestone—and one step closer to where it’s going to be when you play it. But these changes don’t just happen. They’re being worked on by the teams of people shaping this next adventure for you—carrying the vision together on our road to launch.

We want to keep showing you what we’re up to, so let us know if you like what you’re seeing! We have some fun stuff planned, so be sure to keep an eye out for our upcoming BCUs, one of which will include a look at what our designers are working on!

Until next then, may the Dread Wolf take you.

—The BioWare Team"

[source and full post, tweet source, tweet source 2]

[wellthebardsdead]

Taliesin: I must admit I’m surprised you don’t know magic given you only have well, a stick.

Shen Lung: Bo.

Taliesin: what?

Shen Lung: it’s not a stick. It’s a Bo Staff. And I do know magic. I’d rather just save it in case I need it. It is not like the magic you or others in this land use… it… leaves me vulnerable afterwards.

Taliesin: Oh… I see… may I ask why your um, bo, staff is red then?

Shen Lung: Blood.

Taliesin: What?!

Shen Lung: It is lacquered in the blood of thousands of foes slain by being bludgeoned with its wood. If I drop it in water, it’ll stain a river red.

Taliesin: …Charming… I take it you’re an experienced warrior then?

Shen Lung: What? Me? Oh no! Haha! No this was a gift to me by master Luo Fang. He… he was the only person sad to see me leaving… he was the only one who made time for me too… I think he hoped it’d keep me safe as it did him.

Taliesin: … *contemplates touching his shoulder to pat him on the back by means of comforting him, but instead just folds his arms* Well I think he hoped correctly, you fight well with it… Can I ask, what did you do exactly in the order then if you didn’t well, fight.

Shen Lung: *tail curling around his leg a little* I’d rather not talk about th- hm?… *sniffs the air before crouching down and listening*

Taliesin: what is I-

Shen Lung: Shh. *creeps down the stream spotting an abandoned prison, and a thalmor guard fetching water* …thalmor?… here?… in this crumbling rui-

*CRACK!*

???: *distant agonised screaming*

Shen Lung: *looks back at taliesin* you fight with me or you side with the- *moves to guard himself with his staff thinking the high high elf is aiming for him, only to watch the bolt of ice fly right over him and into the thalmor soldier, sending them over the waterfall*

Taliesin: With you~ *offers him a hand up*

Shen Lung: … *growls and swats it away before getting up and shrieking in frustration* DONT SCARE ME LIKE THAT! *huffs and grabs his staff before jumping over to the other side of the water in one easy motion*

Taliesin: *snickers and hops over after him*

*a few minutes later*

Shen Lung: *creeping towards the cells, the cracking of a whip and the cries growing louder, and louder, only for him to halt in shock upon laying eyes on a human Akaviri, dark haired, his bloodied back turned, but unmistakably a child of Akavir* one lives- *quickly turns himself invisible as he finally notices the thalmor holding the whip*

Cyrelian: Huh? Who said tha-GAGHHH!!! *drops the whip and claws at his neck as he’s suddenly strangled from behind by a dense wooden pole* Geght oghhff off m-Ghmneee!! *lurches forward sending Shen Lung over his back, revealing the tang mo right as he draws back his staff and cracks it into the side of his head knocking his lights out*

Shen Lung: *rises to his feet* By honour of the dragon guard. You die thalmor scum!!! *raises his staff up and crushes his skull with a fatal blow*

Taliesin: *hurries in fixing his robes* the other one is dea-… Well I can see you needed no hel-

Shen Lung: *ignores him and immediately runs to the bloodied Akaviri hanging from the wall* H-hello? Hello can you hear me friend?

???: *slowly raises their head, glaring at him with blurred vision* when I get out of here, I’ll kill you all myself…

Shen Lung: Eh?… not the accent I was expecting. No young wraith, I’m a friend, I’m here to save you. What’s your name?

Kaidan: I?… you are?… I’m Kaidan… my names Kaidan…

Shen Lung: *pausing for a moment as if scanning a list of names from correspondence that died off some 30 years prior* Ah, I’m afraid you’re one I’m unfamiliar with. No matter I’m sure I can identify your parentage. *releases the shackles and catches him easily*

Kaidan: wh-what? *whimpers in pain as he’s finally set free, unable to do anything except cling to his strange saviour*

Taliesin: *walks over holding a potion* Oh so this is what a human Akaviri looks like?

Kaidan: I’m a what? What are you on about- you- YOU!!! *immediately tries to lunge forward and attack the high elf*

Shen Lung: *pulls him back* Atitititata, no dont, he’s a friend, he helped me find you… though admittedly this was pure luck if anything else. *takes the healing potion and hands it to him* You… You don’t even know you’re an Akaviri?…

Kaidan: … *shakes his head looking at him in pure bewilderment* no… I don’t even know, what in oblivion you are.

Shen Lung: Oh gods I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me…

[knowltonsrangers]

ideal location [ch.1]

Something seized in your chest, swallowing your heartbeat and cutting off your air supply. It felt as if the world had stopped rotating for a moment, and it took every force in your body to push out a baffled:“What?”

This time though, he would be having none of your arbitrary dance around the subject. He takes an unwavering step forward, hand outreached and frown etched permanently into his features.

Your vision blurs.

“What do you mean?”

He insists, almost angrily, but it contrasts with his violently worried expression on his face.

“Nothing—“

You try, but you know it’s going south the moment the words fall from your lips.

“You’re just going to have to clarify, when you say you think it’s the year 1776.”

Something beckons you across that weeded field, whether it be the call of the wind blowing, or the deteriorated, faded red cabin that sat nestled deep within the trees.

The grass was high and untamed, brushing up to your knees as you waded through the mess of grass and mud. Feeling the sting of the winter air, you crossed the marsh, hoping that this simple stroll in the park turned into something a little bit more exciting.

It had been a terribly long week, one that caused you to resort to a mind-clearing walk anyways. As you stayed on the trail, the wind blew some shrubbery aside to reveal a long-forgotten path.

How could you not pass this opportunity that so generously presented itself to you?

It’s easy to recall, but it’s taken a good amount of effort to cross the field.

The cabin looks great for how old it must be, the roof sitting nicely and the wood hardly splintering on the outside. Peering in the dirty window, you catch the looks of a classroom, one that must be hundreds of years old.

“It’s like a time capsule,”

You breathe, the frostiness of the air causing your bated breathing to appear like clouds as you exhale.

Trying the door, to your surprise, it opens with a loud groan.

The smell is nonetheless musty, but the desks and chairs all sit as if they have not moved in ages. The teachers desk had a few books open on the top, scattered about with the chair pushed back against the wall.

When you go to take a step inside, movement catches your eye, far in the back of the room. Thinking it to be an animal, or something falling in part of you opening the door, you hold your breath and once more don’t move.

It’s the bookshelf, in the back, propped on an angle so the way you stood in the doorway, you could not see if someone was standing behind it.

“Hello?”

Now you think it’s a child, or someone who intends on scaring the living daylights out of you. Their movements have caused a book to fall off the shelf, and you are certain there is much more than an animal shuffling back there.

“It’s okay, I was just leaving. Sorry if I’m intruding,”

Taking a step back, you watch as a hand creeps about the side of the shelf, sliding themselves out and into your field of vision.

A gasp is a bit more of an understatement per your reaction.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was unsure if you were friend or foe.”

It’s not okay, none of it is, to which you were staring at. Rather rudely, if you’d been looking back at your behavior with a good conscience.

“Did I interrupt some kind of reenactment?”

You ask him, the man that was currently dusting off his breeches, standing back up to catch your gaze. When he sees you, he cocks his head to the side, taking in your appearance as if he was just as confused.

“I could ask of you the same thing.”

He says, pushing some of his blonde hair behind his ear. He’s tall, a brown wool coat on his shoulders and a black cocked hat.

“I’m the one dressed normally.”

Laughing, as if he’s just joking, you take a step forward inside as the door swings close behind you.

“I’m going to have to argue with you on that one. I’m the one that’s dressed appropriately.”

You’re facing each other, a row of wood desks the only thing that stand between you and him.

“Pardon? What year do you think it is?”

You’ve convinced yourself he’s being playful, being a smart-ass just because you’ve caught him in the middle of…well, whatever he was doing.

“I believe it was September of 1776, last I checked.”

Laughing once more, it takes a moment or so to catch the look in his eye. If…if he tells you he isn’t joking…

Something seized in your chest, swallowing your heartbeat and cutting off your air supply. It felt as if the world had stopped rotating for a moment, and it took every force in your body to push out a baffled:

“What?”

This time though, he would be having none of your arbitrary dance around the subject. He takes an unwavering step forward, hand outreached and frown etched permanently into his features.

Your vision blurs.

“What do you mean?”

He insists, almost angrily, but it contrasts with his violently worried expression on his face.

“Nothing—“

You try, but you know it’s going south the moment the words fall from your lips.

“You’re just going to have to clarify, when you say you think it’s the year 1776.”

“It is!”

Crossing in between the rows of desks, he stands before you, clasping two large hands on your shoulders.

“Miss, please tell me it is!”

Sniffling, you stare into his bright blue eyes and the dozens of freckles that brush his rosy cheeks.

You catch the scar that marks his forehead, as well as the prominent birthmark that sits on his throat.

You shakily hold up one finger, fishing your phone out of your pocket to grab your phone. He stares at it, as if he cannot process what he’s looking at, and you quickly open the calendar application to show him the date.

November, 2022.

“I will save the notion of the absolutely strange calendar in your pocket, for the fact that I have somehow managed to traveled in time.”

He releases your shoulders, and begins pacing the room with an absolute frantic look on his face.

“Hey, look—maybe I can help you?”

It’s a really stupid sentence, and you visibly cringe the moment it comes out of your mouth.

He stops his panic-striken pacing, only to look at you with terribly sad blue eyes.

“I mean, I can at least help you figure out what’s going on. I…I don’t know how I can entirely help you, but I can most certainly try.”

You feel the blush crawl to your cheeks.

“You’d do that, for me?”

You feel it’s the least you can do. If he’s actually fallen and hurt his head, then maybe you can help him in that way. If you stumbled into some sort of time traveling Revolutionary War soldier, then, well, bonus?

“It’s the least I can do. Can’t leave you hanging, out here all alone in a world you haven’t seen before.”

“I appreciate this more than you’ll ever know. That’s very kind of you, miss…?”

“y/n, please call me y/n,”

Smiling, you can feel the strangeness of this situation finally settle in your stomach.

“And you are?”

“Oh, forgive me, I’m Nathan.”

Something rings familiar of the name, and his appearance.

“Nathan Hale.”

Nathan Hale x F!Reader

[a/n: if you read to the end, thank you! I hope this isn’t complete garbo, I started watching Sleepy Hollow and nabbed the idea. But can you imagine finding this fine-ass man in his old schoolhouse? I would die. Pls let me know if you want a part2 🧐 I am sorry for the use of miss, I tried to keep it gender neutral. I will keep in the tags that it is a female reader. Thanks ♥️.]

[mewo143]

Hello everybody! So to cut right to the chase this is an au for omori where mewo runs away from whitespace to explore the rest of headspace! In this adventure she’ll meet some new friends, some foes and strangers. This is an ask blog so ask to your hearts content! (Though be nice to mewo, she’s just a kitty afterall)

This au is mostly chill and light hearted, but of course the trigger warnings still apply as this is an au for omori.

FAQ

Nsfw accounts/pro shippers please don’t interact

You’re more than welcome to make fan art for this au, just remember to credit me for the au :)

My art style has a tendency to change from time to time, so if you notice that happening it’s just me experimenting with different art styles (I’m hoping to get better at drawing cats so mewo looks better lol)

The idea for this au was from a silly little roleplay I did on omori sandbox where Spaceboy and sweetheart adopted mewo!

This may change in the future if I have some more things I want to add, buts that’s all for now! Once the first in character post is up I’ll open the asks 💕

[bl33dingm3mry]

Heist of The Heart || Chapter 1

Deckard Shaw x OC

Word Count: 1002

Summary: Secrets never stay hidden for long but as old foes threaten to ruin all she holds dear, Sterling Jones seeks help from the most unlikely candidate. Ex-British Special Forces member Deckard Shaw.

CHAPTER WARNING: Swearing

A/N: If you have seen my stuff on other places (ao3 specifically), you'll know that I love to color code the characters. So starting here I will be color-coding them since it's an option! Now for context story-wise, this will be taking place after FoTF but before H&S. Because we love (Villain to Hero) character development. (And the distrustful enemies to lovers vibes....)

TAGLIST:

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the list!

▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚▚

Sterling sat at the desk towards the back of the empty office building, impatiently tapping her fingers on the laminated surface, her eyes glued to the blacked-out phone screen in front of her. Each second that ticked by felt like an eternity as she waited for a call back from an old friend. Not like her entire existence depended on this phone call or anything. The voicemail she had left had been pretty clear, or as clear as she could make it without giving any information away to whoever happened to hear it. 

“Mr. Parker, this is about that silver jewelry set you left in our care, the items in question are too tarnished to distinguish the type of alloy used. If you could give us a call back whenever you are available, we hope you have a good day.”

Tej being the nerd he was would have no problem guessing who had left the message, he never was one for jewelry outside the occasional necklace or wristwatch. Maybe a ring if he was pushing it. On top of that, she doubted he would place them in someone else's care when he was such a meticulous person himself. He also owed her a favor for a job he had roped her into several years back, so the least he could do was hear her out. No harm in that right?

BZZZT. BZZZT.

The echoing buzz of her phone on the desk stopped her thoughts in their tracks, her fingers fumbling as she struggled to unlock the device and answer it. Seeing an unlisted number pop up could be cause for concern just as easily as it could be for hope. She took a breath, steeling herself as she answered, partially unsure who would be on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Nice try Sterling. It’s been a bit since you’ve left any sort of code call so why don’t we just jump into it? What’s so important that you can’t discuss it on my personal number?”

“Well I’ve got a job to do and I need your skills to pull it off.”

“SJ…”

“Tej, please. I wouldn’t be asking if I could handle this by myself. Besides, you owe me.”

The line stayed silent for several minutes as the other was thinking things over however the lack of response made her wonder if the man had hung up on her. Not that she could blame him. She waited, her stomach doing flips as she debated on calling out to him, however, she heard a sigh on the other end, relief washing over her like a tidal wave.

“You know I’ve got your back whenever you need me. Same place as always?”

“No. Not safe. Dom and Letty are moving out to the other place for the renovation, right? We’ll meet at the old house.”

“Is this something I should be worried about? Cause if you’re pulling me into some shit then you can-”

“Tej. I can tell you the details but it has to be at the house alright? I’m counting on you.”

Having said all she could, Sterling hung up the call, tucking the phone into her back pocket. She dug around the office space grabbing a pen as well as tearing off a scrap of paper from the notepad on the carpeted floor. She knew she needed a backup if they had been overheard on her end and she wasn’t going to actively put Tej in harm's way if she didn’t need to. At most all she needed was maybe thirty minutes alone with the man to pick his brain and lay out a plan. Possibly build a few devices to assist during the mission and if he chose to step away after that then she could handle it herself. She would have to.

Making her way down into the building's parking garage, she scribbled out a message on the scrap of paper “Destroy the phone. And by the way, no one likes the Tuna.” Satisfied with it, she made her way over to the tesla she was supposed to be driving. She put both the note and her phone in the driver's seat and set the auto pilot's coordinates to Dom’s house. After double-checking the ankle weights she attached to the steering wheel, she hit start and shut the door, watching the vehicle back out of the parking space and take off. 

“Here we go…”

Knowing everything was now out of her hands, Sterling left the parking garage, and headed towards the old sandwich shop where everything seems to have started. Even if Tej didn’t get the message she had left, Dom and Letty would know right off the bat, so she had no doubt that at least one of the three would show up to meet her. Most likely at gunpoint, but it was better than no one coming at all.

~~~~~ Sterling sat at the bar, roughly an hour or so after she had made the initial call, wondering what was taking so long. Presumably, Tej had arrived at Dom’s after her own car and discussed the off-the-wall phone call they had. Pair that with the note she had left them and boom, an instant recipe for concerned friends coming to pay a visit. Maybe Dom and Letty weren’t home? Even so, it would be hard to think Tej wouldn’t just call Dom and ask what it meant. Hell, it was Dom and Mia’s shop, their name was on the damn building. Not to mention Mia always went on to all the newbies about how the tuna wasn’t very good.

Getting up from her seat, she was about ready to give in and just walk back to her motel room. Fuck the others she could plan the heist herself. It wouldn’t be the greatest of ideas but at this point, it was all she had left and she was running out of what little time she had left.

“You wouldn’t be leaving without paying for that shitty sandwich would you?”

[misshoneyimhome]

Hello! I’d love to write something for your birthday festival challenge!

Top 3-5 players you’d love to read about?

Top 3-5 scenes/prompts you’d love to see?

Can’t wait to get started!!

Omg babe that’d be so amazing, you’re so sweet🌺🥰

Oh so for the players (don’t mind the order)

William N. (No surprise there)

You know I love Freddie A. 😉

Hmm to change it up a bit Matthew K.

Andrei S. has become a new darling ❤️

Hm maybe Auston M.? Haven’t read anything on him in so long

For the prompts/scenes

I’m in such a mood for something fluffy romantic like a proposal or something

Maybe a friends to lovers scene due to an accident?

Or friends to lovers while dealing with a bad ex?

Always love something related to Christmas like friends or foes getting together

Hope this helps 😊 can’t wait to read whatever you come up with ❤️

[yeeclaw]

An imposter died in Uncanny X-Men vol 1 #281, not Catseye

A theory I would still believe if not for Necrosha and Krakoa

(A repost from 2015, with minor edits)

Uncanny X-Men vol 1 #281 (October 1991) credits three writers: John Byrne, Jim Lee, and Whilce Portacio. I don’t know which one is responsible for Sharon’s dialogue, but whoever it is wrote possibly the most out of character panel I have read of any character, ever.

This may be a niche topic, but I will elaborate nonetheless, because I feel that Uncanny 281 was written four years prior to my birth specifically to torment me, personally.

Here is Sharon's only dialogue in the issue:

Problem #1

Sharon actually likes the X-Men. Emma once noted “Moreover, she as yet neither comprehends nor accepts the distinctions between Hellion and Xavier’s New Mutants; she does not understand why those who are her personal friends must be her team’s foes.” Personal friends. That was Emma’s biggest concern with Sharon. It was kinda a big deal.

Problem #2:

Sharon doesn’t hold grudges. In New Mutants #39, Sharon ran to Rahne’s side after she woke from a night terror. In her panic, Rahne attacked Sharon, knocking her across the room. The conversation went like this:

Sharon: Whouu--Sneaky Redfur fast as me, maybe. Strong, too. Rahne: You’re na’ mad, then? Sharon: Feh! Never get mad, always get even.

But even after that, the worst thing she did to Rahne was startle her at a party. Even then, she didn’t seem to realize it would frighten her friend, because when asked why she did it, Sharon replied: “Say hello, funny way, big-laugh, yes?” then hugged her. "Both sides have been spoiling for a fight for too long!" is not like Sharon. Yes, she likes fighting, and she gets caught up in the moment, but premeditating a fight is not her thing, and -- problem #1 again -- she doesn't consider there to be two sides.

Problem #3:

Sharon doesn’t call people by their names. I don’t mean “in general, Sharon uses nicknames,” I mean that out of every single issue I’ve read (through March 21, 2015), Sharon has not once called someone by their given name, or called anyone outside of the Hellions by a code name (and even then, she only called Empath and Jetstream by their codenames one time each).

If you don’t believe me, here is every name Sharon has called someone by, at least in the issues I've found:

Girl Furperson

Redfur

Little Redfur Furperson

Small Redfur Friend

Sneaky Redfur

Intruder

Noisyboys

Sneaky Badboy

Empath

Mutant Magikchild

Maidy-lady

Jetstream

Pretty Hottop

Pretty Person

Wingboy

Missy

Heart-twister

Problem #4

Sharon doesn’t look like that. Now, Sharon’s appearance varies a lot in the few issues she’s in, but never does she resemble her depiction in UXM. The muscle structure, the posture, the ears, the I-really-hope-that’s-her-other-arm-and-not-a-muscle-boob...it just doesn’t look like her!

Problem #5

Sharon doesn’t talk like that.

Sharon doesn’t talk like that.

Sharon doesn’t talk like that.

Sharon doesn’t talk like that.

If you haven’t noticed yet, Sharon doesn’t talk like that

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

Bonus -- some of the original tags:

#not to mention that this led into an unneccesary jean grey death plot #a 15 year old was murdered and the words 'poor jean' were actually spoken #and then they lamented jean's death while other hellions were still being murdered #probs why emma hates jean #nothing to do with scott - everything to do with her dead students

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 332

Proverbs 17:3/Fugitive of the Judoon

“Proverbs 17:3”

Plot Description: when several campers meet a grisly fate in Colorado, Sam and Dean discover a werewolf presence—and have an unexpected run-in with an old foe

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: if the everything about camping didn’t turn me off already, this show has me completely sworn off of it

Omg girl, do not leave that tent wtf

Awwww Sam’s been trying to get in touch with Cas again

Love when they get small opportunities to just be shitty siblings

I hate all these nightmares Sam is having about being Lucifer’s vessel and killing Dean

Aww Dean’s denial of his own aging….is actually super sad considering he’s gonna die fr this season

Dean’s so comforting and genuine rn with this girl who survived the attack. What’s goin on with him? He’s not usually that immediately open with those impacted by monster attacks unless they’re in immediate danger

(You know who I miss? The twin witches.)

Speaking of shitty siblings. These werewolf brothers are terrible (Josh more than Andy but neither are particularly GOOD)

I know this show does obvious parallels within an inch of its life but the scene of Dean talking to the girl about if things would be better or easier if everything was planned out for you was so 🙄

I’ve complained about it before so many times, but the “cut away from the person holding the gun only to find they didn’t shoot who you thought they shot” is way too overdone. It’s no longer a surprise when the Winchesters don’t get shot

Oh no. Andyyyyy you didn’t have to kill yourself, too

Hello??? I knew something was sus about Ashley but I thought it was a more Alex situation

Of all foes to bring back, Lilith? I guess I was just underwhelmed with her last time, so hopefully she gets something good this time around…but I’m not THAT hopeful

Dean’s little apologetic nod at her that she’s not going to seduce him

So, Chuck sent her there to get his gun back?

TWO nightmares in one episode? I guess at least in this one it’s Demon Dean. Mark of Cain Dean

I KNEW that conversation was bad…but it was Chuck’s writing bad

He wanted the gun destroyed? For what??

The weird commentary of Dean asking if they just keep running in Chuck’s maze forever or until they get boring and he ends them IN THE LAST SEASON which is ten seasons AFTER it was initially supposed to end

The “how are we supposed to fight God, Sam?” I was really waiting for Sam to say “together,” but thankfully he didn’t

(How has JPad’s voice only altered slightly in those 15 years and Jensen’s…Jensen doesn’t even sound like the same person)

“Fugitive of the Judoon”

Plot Description: the Doctor and friends race toward 21st century Gloucester—to stand in the way of trigger-happy space police the Judoon. But who or what are the Judoon investigating?

Oh…oh wait, I’d this the Doctor? The future Doctor??

Why does this barista have a dossier on this woman’s boyfriend??

I know the Doctor’s always kept their companions at an arm’s length when it comes to Gallifrey but 13 takes it to a new level. But part of that is my constant complaint about how she doesn’t really bond with them at all individually

I have a few theories for who the Judoon are looking for: boyfriend (unlikely but I’ve seen weirder twists), the woman I’m convinced is the future Doctor, and the Master (because 13 is looking for him)

A platoon of Judoon near the moon…sometimes the dumbest jokes are the funniest

I know he’s an old white man but does Graham really think the police don’t kill??? Please…

I’m still convinced it’s her even though she scans human

This barista needs to back off. You don’t get to write “you can do better” on a cake ordered and paid for by the boyfriend of the woman you’re infatuated with

Oh, he’s not gonna be a problem anymore. Not that it’s right, but he picked a fight with the Judoon and they killed him for it

Aw, Ryan 😣 he tried. Here’s a star, kiddo ⭐️

Making up Earth rules on the spot to enforce against the Judoon

Ok but where IS Graham?? Omg, Captain Jack??? (Though I’ve kind of soured on him since John Barrowman’s comments on not being in the 60th specials, like he was OWED it)

Is the boyfriend like Martha in the family of blood episodes?? He’s gotta keep her safe while her memories are sealed away?

I don’t like that Jack assumed Graham was the Doctor, however I’d like it even less if he’d greeted 13 with that kiss. Also don’t like him saying “this I gotta see!” Upon hearing the Doctor is a woman now

Has he always been this sleazy?? Have I been making excuses for him this whole time??

Who is SHE?? Ok. Is she the Master from the future?? The way she called boyfriend “faithful companion”

The instinct future Doctor has in close combat is kinda hot

Boyfriend wasn’t boyfriend, he was husband (before the other woman killed him)

“Beware the long (?) Cybermen”?? Or was it lone? Oh we’re trying for an overarching plot

Of all the lighthouses one could live and grow up in, this one’s probably the best and most cozy

THERE IT ISSSS!! She’s got her memories back

Oooooo!! I like her TARDIS interior

Ooo!! And these glasses are fantastic

Why must the girls fight?? And being so petty about it.

So, the future Doctor (or au Doctor maybe??) had a job and the woman who killed her companion was her boss, and this is just messy

Why are we doing a best of tour here too?? I just realized

[unravellingsilencehq]

This looks amazing! Any chance we might see elizabeth braithwate or some of aurelia's other friends or foes around soon?

Hello anon! Thank you that’s very kind. So we’re not sure when batch two is coming as we’ve not been open for very long. A few of Aurelia’s connections are taken, Rabastan, Rosaline, Emma Squiggle, Cordelia etc and we’re really hopeful for a Harrison and an Ajax soon! I do have her brother marked for batch two, but Borgin and Burke I’m sorry to say won’t be any time soon due to plotting reasons.

Aurelia is quite the devilish character so if you’re concerned about picking her up due to connections, we have some of her witch weekly colleagues taken, she’s a death eater, in high society and she’s a huge flirt so I don’t think you’d have any issues finding new connections and cooking up drama.

I can potentially move Betty up if I have the muse for her but I can’t make any promises as batch two is looking beefy! But I’ll do my best!

[adventofheroes]

Kamen Rider Ryuki-Crossover Ryuki Chapter 4

Shinji had a checklist, he had written down every Rider he could reasonably visit. But first, he wanted to grab a few things from ORE Journal’s offices. 

“Hello, again Shinji,” Tatsuya said sitting in the same spot. 

“Oh..hi! I have some spare change for you this time!” Shinji said. 

“I actually have something for you instead,” Tatsuya said as he reached into his torn coat pocket. 

“Oh really? Thank you..! What could it be?” Shinji said smiling. 

Maybe he found a winning lottery ticket and wants to split it! 

But Tatsuya instead pulled out something much more surprising than a lottery ticket, it was instead a blank Advent Deck. 

“An Advent Deck? You shouldn’t have that, it could be dangerous!” Shinji said. 

“Ah, you don’t understand Ryuki. I’m here to help you. I’m a Rider too, or was.” Tatsuya explained. 

“A Rider? I don’t remember you in the Rider War.” Shinji said. 

“I was able to escape my fate, I was meant to be Ryuki. Kanzaki or Odin originally gave me the deck, but being the coward I was, I gave it to my friend Koichi Sakakibara.” 

It was hard for Shinji to remember the Rider War, but he did remember how mysteriously he had found his Deck in Sakaibara’s apartment. 

“I never found out what happened to Sakakibara, Ren told me he was eaten,” Shinji said. 

“He was. And then it was passed onto you. I’ve lived with that guilt for years.” Tatsuya said as he stood up bowing, “I’m sorry Shinji.” 

“But why do you have a blank deck?” Shinji asked. 

“Shinji have you ever considered that your deck is actually quite weak compared to the others? You have no special ability cards.” Tatsuya said. 

“Well..” Shinji looked at the cards in his deck, “They’re all good but outside of a fireball there’s not much.” 

“You see the Ryuki deck was originally going to be the most powerful. Kanzaki assumed that being a homeless man I would fight more viciously to win so there were several extra cards created for the deck. However, I ran away from Odin and dropped these special cards.” Tatsuya said. 

Tatsuya took out the cards from the blank deck. They were Copy, Freeze, Clear, and Confine. 

“But those are other Riders’ cards! I remember them.” Shinji said. 

“They were then found by Odin and redistributed to other Riders as ways for Kanzaki to tip the scales. It was only since a new timeline being formed I have been able to collect them. I thought that it would help me bury my guilt, but I can’t shake it. I want you to take the cards Ryuki and I hope you can forgive me.” Tatsuya said. 

Shinji rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s alright. I made it out alive and stopped the Rider War. I don’t remember all of the details, but that’s what Ren told me. Really everything’s fine.” 

“Stopped the war?” Tatsuya said with confusion in his voice, “Why.. Yes! You’re a great hero. Please take the cards. They’ll change to be part of your Contract once you use them.” 

“Thanks! You know.. I was just thinking that I might be under-classed compared to the other Riders. These cards will surely help me with that! Thanks again, but I should be going!” Shinji said. 

Shinji then emptied out his wallet to Tatsuya and waved goodbye. Tatsuya smiled back. 

——————————————

Kabuto and Gatack fired their shots at a former foe. Mysteriously, the Bellcricetus Worm had reappeared. Kabuto wasn’t in the least bit surprised though, his Grandmother had taught him to expect things like this. They had gotten word of the creature and tracked it towards a stadium.  

No matter how hard one tries, you cannot block out the Sun. 

The sun of course referring to himself. Kabuto made a mental note to chronicle that quote down. While anyone who met him would know that he quoted the wise musings of his Grandmother, few heard the musing of Kabuto himself. So he opted to write his quotes down. They would work well in his latest cookbook. 

Nevermind all of that, the Worm needs attention.

“Stop.” He told Kagami. 

Kagami stopped firing as Kabuto lowered his gun. They had just spent a minute firing into the Worm and it seemed to make little difference. Clearly, this one was stronger than the previous incarnation. Kabuto suspected a greater work was at play, but they couldn’t be much of a problem if this was what they sent to block out the Sun. 

“Tendou? What’s wrong?” Kagami asked. 

“Someone else is here,” Kabuto said.

Just then Kamen Rider Ryuki appeared seemingly out of nowhere slashing the Worm with his Sword. 

“Bet you didn’t see that coming!” Ryuki said. 

The Worm offered no communicative response as Kabuto activated his Cast Off mechanisms. 

“Cast Off.” He said. 

“CAST OFF STAG BEETLE!” his belt said. 

By then the Worm had activated Clock Up. 

“Get out of the way!” Kagami shouted. 

Too late. The Worm moving at super speeds smacked Ryuki sending him flying forward, fortunately, Gatack caught him. 

“Clock Up,” Kabuto said. 

“CLOCK UP!” his belt said. 

The Worm ran off in the opposite direction as Kabuto chased after it. 

——————

“Ryuki? What are you doing here? Didn’t Den-O teach you guys that we fight Worms?” Gatack asked as he put down Ryuki. 

“A monster is a monster and I fight monsters. What do they do?” Ryuki asked, looking a little dizzy. 

“They’re able to run at supersonic speeds! You can’t keep up!” Gatack said. 

“Keep up? Sure I can! Watch me!” Ryuki said. 

He then pulled out one of the cards from his belt. Gatack couldn’t see it and had no idea what was going to happen. 

Ryuki is the guy with the Castle Dragon right? Gatack thought

“Freeze Bento!” said Ryuki’s Visor. 

Gatack had no idea what was supposed to happen, but in the next instance, Tendou suddenly appeared flying towards them. Before a crash could occur, Tendou gracefully landed on his feet in front of them. Gatack then noticed that the Worm had been frozen solid. 

“Tendou did you just trip?” he asked. 

“No. I nearly tripped. There is a difference.” Tendou said. 

“Hello Kabuto, I’m glad to help,” Ryuki said, holding out his hand. 

Tendou ignored the gesture and pulled Gatack aside. 

“Did you invite him to our city?” Tendou asked.

“No. I don’t know what he’s doing here. Maybe he just wanted to help out?” Gatack said. 

“He’s ill-advised.” Tendou said. 

“He froze the Worm, maybe he can be of some help?” Kagami asked. 

“Fine, but I will be the one to defeat it.” Tendou said. 

They turned and noticed the ice was crumbling very quickly. The Worm then rushed forward, however, the ice had made it slower. 

“Final Bento!” Ryuki’s visor said. 

Ryuki’s dragon then flew around him juggling the worm into the air, Ryuki jumped up and was propelled forward by a fireball towards the Worm. The resulting kick exploded the Worm as Ryuki landed on the ground. 

“Ugh.” Tendou groaned. 

“Did you see that? I used DragRedder to protect myself from its dash!” Ryuki said. 

“Yeah! Good job Ryuki!” Gatack said. 

“I don’t like him,” Tendou muttered. 

—————————————————————

This is going great! These new cards really give me an edge. Shinji thought

He was driving down the street of his moped hoping to find Faiz. Some roads appeared to be blocked off with policemen guarding the area. Shinji considered this unusual since this was supposed to be the main highway. Then suddenly, he felt the ground shake. This was followed by a loud thumping sound with increased larger shakes. Shinji quickly got off of his moped. 

I think something’s about to happen..

And something did happen as Kamen Rider Faiz flew down the street being chased by a massive, four-legged, grey beast. 

“What the..!” Shinji said. 

I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve worked with the other riders to fight off much larger monsters but it’s still a shock to see something that big. 

He immediately raced down an alleyway finding a cracked mirror. 

“Henshin!” he said. 

After transforming he then ran towards where they went, while pulling out his Survive card. 

“Survive!” his visor said.

Changing into Survive mode, he hopped on DragRanzer as they flew towards Faiz. Faiz was ahead of the monster chasing him in his Blaster form. 

“Hey, Faiz!” Ryuki said. 

Faiz slightly turned his attention to an unexpected flying Ryuki allowing the monster he was fighting to headbutt him into the ground. Ryuki flew down as DragRanzer fired three fireballs at the monster. Like the other monsters, the gigantic creature was silent and did not seem to wince in pain. It turned its attention to Ryuki as it fired a horde of needles towards him. The needles knocked him off of DragRanzer, but the dragon swooped under him, breaking the fall. Ryuki jumped towards Faiz who fired his gun into the monster’s mouth. 

“Ryuki..!I heard you might be making a visit..” Faiz said. 

“You did?” he asked. 

Faiz then ran down an alleyway as the giant monster kicked Ryuki towards him. Faiz then caught him. 

“I’m not sure why you’re here, but you need to settle whatever’s going on with you,” Faiz said. 

“I’m just trying to help!” Ryuki said. 

“I don’t need help,” Faiz said.

“You don’t need help? You’re fighting a giant monster!” Ryuki said. 

Faiz pressed a sequence of buttons on his gun, “I don’t want to see anyone else die.” 

“Exceed charge.” The device said. 

Faiz jumped in the air kicking towards the monster’s face. A powerful shockwave of blasts spiraled around him. Then the monster lunged forward knocking Faiz off onto the ground. Just then DragRanzer and Ryuki flew in front of Faiz. DragRanzer blew fire at the monster forcing it to step back. 

“I don’t want to see anyone else die either,” Ryuki said. 

Faiz contemplated and then pressed a different sequence of buttons. 

“Exceed charge.” It said again. 

“Then get ready..!” he said. 

DragRanzer flew behind Faiz as Ryuki took out his Final Vent Card. 

“Final Vent!” his visor said. 

Dragranzer transformed into a bike as Ryuki drove towards the giant monster. Fireballs flew out from DragRanzer’s mouth, keeping it away from Faiz. Faiz fired his gun and the blast began piercing the monster’s skin. 

KABOOM! 

It then turned into ash. 

Faiz then deactivated his transformation as Ryuki stood before him looking at the ash. 

“I transform to fight monsters you know?” he said. 

“You’re alright, but don’t throw away your life recklessly. Someone once told me, that we only have one life.” Faiz said. 

Faiz removed his belt to turn his attention towards Ryuki.

“Lives are precious. That’s why I spend mine saving people.” Ryuki said as he removed his card deck. 

Takumi walked away, “Good answer.” He smiled and walked off. 

———————————————————

Shotaro was typing out a case. 

“And so W and the Kamen Riders thwarted another army of mooks. The battle was long but relatively easy. However, I can’t help but think there’s something more afoot, but with no clues or evidence, I’m out of luck. Philip and I should stay in Futo anyway, the other Kamen Riders can handle the other parts of the world. We Riders stick to our own corners unless we’re truly needed to unite.” 

Just then a young man wearing a bike helmet and blue jacket walked in clumsily knocking over a coat rack. 

“Oh..sorry!” he said picking up the coat rack. 

That voice..! I’ve heard it before. 

Philip lifted his eyes from a book as Akiko got up from the couch to welcome their new customer. 

“Narumi Detective Agency! How can we help?” she said.

“Yes..yes.. Yes.” The man said digging out something from his pocket. 

He’s one of the riders I’m sure, but which? 

Shotaro went through a list of Riders in his head remembering their voices. 

No, not Zeronos. Definitely not Hibiki. He kind of looks like that Faiz guy, but his voice is too high. 

The man then pulled out a card deck and shoved it into Shotaro’s face. 

“Greetings, I’m Kamen Rider Ryuki!” he said and then bowed. 

Shotaro reeled in surprise. 

“Ah yes.. Well Mister Kamen Rider are you here for a case..?” Shotaro asked, taking a drink of coffee. 

“No, I’m here to meet up with you guys.. Kamen Rider W!” Ryuki said. 

Shotaro unnaturally swallowed his coffee to prevent doing a spit take. 

“H-how did you know?” Shotaro asked. 

“I read newspaper articles and compared locations to sort of guess where you would most be! Also, that bike outside is a dead giveaway!” Ryuki said. 

“I told you we should hide that bike Shotaro!” Akiko said. 

“But it looks so hardboiled,” Shotaro muttered. 

“H-hardboiled?” Ryuki asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Philip and Akiko walked towards them. 

“It means he thinks he’s cool,” Akiko said. 

“But we all know he’s really half-boiled,” Philip said. 

Shotaro frowned. 

“Ryuki.. Is there some sort of crisis again?” Shotaro asked. 

Ryuki rubbed the back of his neck, “No, I was just hoping there would be though.”

“Hoping?” Shotaro asked. 

Then without warning, Shotaro’s bike flew through the window. Akiko screamed as Philip grabbed her to take cover. 

“My bike!” Shotaro said as he looked out the window. 

It’s always bad luck to type out the case before 5:00.

It was an older enemy, the Bird Dopant. 

“I was thinking something kind of like that,” Ryuki said as he transformed. 

Ryuki jumped forward unseen. 

“Philip let’s go!” Shotaro said taking out his Joker memory. 

“Henshin!” they said. 

“Cyclone! Joker!” the belt said. 

“Last time we fought this Dopant, we had help,” Shotaro said. 

“We’ll have to make due and hope Ryuki doesn’t get in the way,” Philip said. 

Ryuki was holding the Bird Dopant but his grip loosened and It slashed him away. Shotaro took note that the Bird Dopant was in its strengthened form. Running forward, W punched the Dopant with his Cyclone half. The punch created a gust of wind that forced the bird to take flight. 

“Shotaro. This bird is just a pale copy. It’s not a real person. We can go all out.” Philip said. 

“Noted!” Shotaro said. 

A fireball shot through the air grazing the back of the Bird Dopant. It then fell down feet first onto Ryuki. Shotaro reached out for the Trigger memory. 

“Luna Trigger!” the belt said. 

The Bird Dopant was knocked over inside the Detective Agency. 

“Alright..let me try something!” Ryuki said pulling out a card. 

“Confine Bento!” his visor said. 

Suddenly W’s gun refused to work. As if it was out of bullets, which would be impossible. 

“Huh?” Shotaro asked. 

Ryuki turned his head towards them, “Uh oh.” 

“Uh oh? What do you mean uh oh?” Shotaro asked. 

“I used a card that nullifies powers. I guess it just sort of defaulted to you..Sorry!” Ryuki said. 

“Great..” Shotaro said switching to HeatMetal. 

“Heat! Metal!” his belt said. 

Standing up the Bird Dopant slashed several strikes forward, the first strike hit Ryuki and W. The second strike W blocked with his staff, as Ryuki was hit a second time. W poked the Bird Dopant as Ryuki took out another one of his cards. 

“It better be something useful this time,” Shotaro said

“I’d like to look up Advent Cards sometime,” Philip said. 

“Not now Philip!” Shotaro said. 

“Guardo Bento!” Ryuki’s visor said. 

Arming himself with shields W watched as Ryuki charged forward only for the Bird Dopant to fly above him and kick. 

“He’s not the brightest Kamen Rider..” Philip said. 

“I’m still not even sure why he’s here,” Shotaro said. 

“Yoshhaa! I got it.” Ryuki said. 

He then took yet another card. 

“You know Ryuki, we can handle this perfectly fine..” Shotaro said. 

“Adobento!” his visor said. 

Suddenly Ryuki’s dragon flew down swirling around the Bird Dopant. W watched from down below as the bird attempted to claw and kick its way to freedom, but the dragon’s hide was too thick. 

“There! Now do something!” Ryuki said. 

Shotaro grabbed the Metal memory placing it into the compartment on his staff. Both sides of the staff burned with intense flames as W jumped up forward into the vortex of the dragon. 

“Metal Branding!” Philip and Shotaro said. 

KABOOM! 

W landed gracefully on the ground and returned back to Shotaro. 

“Heh. That was pretty cool.” Shotaro said. 

“Maybe even hardboiled?” Ryuki asked. 

“Hardboiled means a bit more than just cool, but sure we’ll take that,” Shotaro said. 

Philip and Akiko walked out of the agency. 

“Shotaro get a broom!” Akiko said holding up a slipper menacingly. 

Shotaro sighed, “Why can’t Philip do it?” 

“He’s going crazy with curiosity..” Akiko said. 

“That was amazing! Ryuki!” said Philip. “Tell me about your dragon! The Mirror World! Your cards! Everything!” 

Shotaro watched as Ryuki was bombarded by Philip. 

“Listen I actually gotta get going..” Ryuki said rubbing the back of his head. 

Shinji left but not without first exchanging contact information with Philip for further study. 

---------------------------------------------------

Alternate Original Art for this chapter