#i guess the only character from it that i have some sort of emotional attachment to is dorian

[sansevierias]

it’s honestly crazy how i put HUNDREDS of hours into playing da:i back in the day, but i remember very little of the game. everything was just... so flat? did my inquisitor even have a personality?

[quibbs126]

could you do a blackberry x adventurer fankid if you havent already pretty please :3

I can’t really say that I made this because of the aforementioned “I haven’t drawn anything in a while” post, it’s just because I was scrolling through my requests and remembered that I was in the middle of drawing her before and thought “might as well finish”

Anyways sorry, this is Blackberry Scone Cookie

So if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t entirely know what her deal is. I know that, unlike her father, she is very willing to acknowledge that she’s rich and uphold that side of her family. She’s also at least outwardly, very similar to her mother in being generally reserved in her emotions. I think one idea I had for her is that she does cool things, she just does with a disinterested face, which kind of just heightens the coolness

Okay so I’m gonna be completely honest, I am now going to just make something up as I write. That top part was in part for me to figure something out

Outwardly, she seems disinterested, but she has plenty of emotions, you just either need to pay attention to her actual words instead of tone, or you just need to get close enough to her for the mask to fall. She also has quite an interest in stories of magic and in mystical artifacts, though she prefers simply reading about them over going out to find them. Also, despite her interest in the subject, she just doesn’t have that much of an ability for magic/the occult, and has difficulty seeing ghosts (best she has is that she can sometimes see Onion), which is one of the reasons she sticks to simply reading about them rather than going out herself

While she has respect for her father in how he goes out on his own to seek out treasure and artifacts, she just doesn’t understand why he hates his rich life. Her only real guess is that he sees it as clashing with his adventurer persona, which she thinks is kind of stupid. She’s also pretty much the one running the estate while he’s gone (she’s an adult by this point) and being the one to actually deal with things such as house guests. Not to say Adventurer was an absent parent, and he’d actually take her along when she was younger on some of his expeditions, but he can disappear sometimes now

She doesn’t hate her parents, and it’s not like they were horrible parents to her, but she feels distant from her mother due to her lack of ghost abilities, and some amount of resentment for her father for being so attached to this persona of his and his disdain for his actual heritage, especially since she’s fully accepting of it and it unintentionally makes her self conscious about it

She’s not super sure of her place in the world, but for now she’s just trying to do her job as a member of a rich family

Hm, so I ended up writing more on her than I thought I would. Ah well, not a bad thing. Well, design time

So her name’s Blackberry Scone due to me headcanoning Adventurer to be some sort of shortbread or biscuit (I know they’re the same thing in other countries, but I’m unsure as to what kind of biscuit he is now). Scones are kind of like biscuits, add some blackberry and there you go, blackberry scones

A potential name was Blackberry Cobbler, but I think I prefer scone, especially since I made her more rich-seeming

Blackberry scone:

So almost everything I made of her, outside of the small sketches and some of the colors, I made a couple weeks ago while waiting at the dentist’s office, and I mostly blocked her out of my mind after that as a result. So I don’t really remember a lot of the design process

I feel like I gave her that hairstyle to make her look “cool”, but then I kind of threw that aspect of her character away. But I still like it, so she keeps it

Also, her suit was originally a bit more reddish, but I changed it today to make it more purple so it’d fit with the color of the scones. They don’t really look that red, so I changed it. But I think now the colors may not all look the best together

I feel like I may have made her colors all a bit too similar to each other, and/or not given her enough, but I don’t really know what else to change

Also when I came back today, the thickness of the lines was bothering me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been dabbling with the Syrup brush now, but I think I need to play with line width more now, since some of the smaller things like the brooch feel like they have too thick of lines

I don’t think her design is necessarily bad though, it’s mostly color wise I have issues with

And yeah, that’s Blackberry Scone, I hope you enjoy her

[viridianevergarden]

My thoughts regarding Azriel’s shadows and their behaviors:

This is a very long deep dive into Az’s shadows and covers every aspect that I have been able to identify about them. Read at your own peril.

Let’s start with what we’ve been given in terms of his lore…

We know that in his childhood, Az was locked into a dungeon until he was eleven years old. He was denied light and social interaction.

He would only ever be allowed to see his own mother for an hour per week. And he would only ever be let out for one hour everyday for whatever else.

Then he was abused by his brothers at age eight, his hands being endlessly burned and half healed as to torture him for fun.

He was never allowed to learn how to fly nor fight because of his fucked up family.

Rhys guessed that the shadowsinger gift came to him in his cell at some point but nothing more has been said since. Not even Rhys or anyone else knows. Azriel hasn’t spoken about it.

If I’m to glean anything from what we’ve seen, Azriel’s shadows:

Are a tool that he utilizes

Act as a defense mechanism

Have minds of their own

Can showcase his feelings externally

So let’s run through these one by one, shall we?

1. A Tool

Through the books, time and again, Azriel has shown that his shadows provide information and feedback to him as a Shadowsinger. They are responsible for his expert ability to be a Spymaster and he is able to clearly communicate with them. He understands them.

This is no secret and by far the easiest observation to be made, especially since this is what characters talk about most regarding Az’s spymaster abilities in the books themselves.

Examples of Az utilizing his shadows:

Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed.

A shake of the head. “No—but the shadows, the wind … They recoil.”

I assumed Azriel was nearby, seeking sanctuary in the shadows.

Within a heartbeat, Azriel had vanished into shadows and was gone.

Az snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep.

I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days.

He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.

Again, none of this is any secret at all but this is pretty much the foundation of Az’s abilities.

2. A Defense Mechanism

This might be more of a controversial take but I do think that his shadows are most definitely a defense mechanism in their own way.

Think about it:

He was a boy who underwent massive torture day in and day out, who was left in a cell for years on end. He was alone. Imagine how his mental state spiraled.

Perhaps the shadows came to him then because he was alone. They became some sort of company for him even if they weren’t there to provide comfort. And when they did attach themselves to him, his powers festered into existence. Only then was he dumped into a war camp.

So not only are they a part of him because they have attached themselves to him, but they protect him by making up for his insecurities or vulnerabilities.

To be aware of all of his surroundings at once, to have another voice in his ear to say “hey, this person has just left.” I can imagine that the shadows keep him feeling secure. They keep him safe by notifying him of his surroundings and the presences that encompass them. As a Spymaster and Shadowsinger, I’m sure that security is huge, especially for himself.

To add on to this, consider how Azriel is as a person. He prefers to keep attention away from himself. He doesn’t talk much and he hides his hands from everyone when he can. He dislikes being the center of attention. He avoids the topic of his past actively and limits how much others speak of it. He uses his shadows to hide during certain conversations and to hide his emotions.

This excerpt from Feyre’s POV:

Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. Too much.

I think he very well does use them as a method of defense even from those he trusts and loves, be it consciously or subconsciously.

3. They Have a Mind of Their Own

Now we do know that the shadows have a manner of conscious and intelligence.

They have:

Told Azriel to sleep (Do they care for his wellbeing?)

Actively relayed him information

Occasionally failed to notify him of things or they simply choose not to when they want (proof in BC)

‘Danced’

Occasionally skittered back in response to certain stimuli

Fully disappeared in the presence of few

Been reactive to their environment

They have persistently shown that they are quite like another being or mind that is attached to Az. They have a voice, they respond to stimuli, etc. It just makes me think that they are somehow, some way, a type of separate entity that latched onto him or perhaps they are a mirror of himself, kind of like an altar ego.

4. They Externalize His Feelings

This is the biggest gripe and most controversial of it all. This is the part that people usually argue over because it deals heavily with Az’s feelings. Of course this section is always up for debate —on how you interpret Azriel’s shadows and their behaviors— but this is my opinion.

His shadows have been repeatedly shown to shy away, skitter back, or completely disappear in the presence of two people and specifically react to one thing.

Now with this being said, let’s look into the two people that they react around.

Mor:

It was almost enough to distract me from noticing Azriel as those shadows lightened, and his gaze slid over [at Mor].

Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder… The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel’s head dipped a bit—his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin.

“He did not,” Mor said, and the shadows that Azriel had indeed been subtly weaving around himself vanished. “Azriel has never once said anything that awful. Only you, Cassian. Only you.”

Most instances are where Azriel is near Mor, when he is looking at her, when she touches him, when she is defending him or talking about him while he is around. They vanish or dissipate in her presence. These were all during the times that Azriel was obviously in love and pining for Mor.

Elain:

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden- brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.

[Elain’s] smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

It has been made extremely clear that Azriel’s shadows also disappear or partially dissipate when he is in Elain’s presence. They react to her actions accordingly.

They acted the same way around Mor until the detail of his shadows disappearing around Mor slowly became noted less by Feyre. On the same timeline, Az’s behavior toward Mor slowly changed. He became indifferent and his longing looks toward her became few and far between as noted by Cassian and Feyre. He had evidently given up hope on Mor.

At the same time, Feyre began making note of Az’s shadows and their behaviors around Elain as well as his behavior toward her.

From here on out, I’m going to assume that we all know how Azriel feels about Elain. Regardless of your opinions on their relationship dynamic, I hope we all can agree that at the very least, Azriel has a growing positive attraction to Elain across 4 books, which has then been blatantly shown to be mutual between the two in the Bonus.

With all of this being said, his shadows’ behaviors between these two women parallel one another with the obvious answer being Love.

Aside from the two girls, there is one last thing that Azriel’s shadows have reacted to.

Music:

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

(HOFAS) And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of “Stone Mother” flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound.

I think that with the addition of HOFAS’ bonus chapter (with Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel), the claim that the shadows’ reactions to Gwyn’s singing being something special can be softly debunked. (There are still possibilities, I know, hence ‘softly’.)

Azriel is a musically oriented person from what we’ve seen. He claims that he does in fact sing and it’s obvious that he does in fact like music. This in turn may explain why his shadows react the way they do. Again, if Azriel’s shadows are a mirroring of his inner self, if they are indeed an outward expression of himself, it would be natural for them to react to music since he enjoys it.

Final Thoughts:

Azriel’s shadows have only disappeared around the people that he has longed for.

If the shadows do in fact have a mind of their own, if they do cover him as a means to protect him and are defensive toward any other being or force, if they only falter for one person, then it must be because those shadows know that Azriel is safe with that person. Or at the very least, they dissipate and disappear around that person because they are the one who he wants to be most vulnerable toward.

If the shadows are indeed a mirror to Az’s inner self, then of course they would ‘dance’ to music. Because that is something that Azriel loves and is passionate about. Of course his shadows would reflect that, especially if his passion is strong enough.

Azriel’s shadows, all and all, are an entity that has a conscious. It has intelligence. It communicates with him. It protects him. But it also has the ability to expose his deepest feelings.

They are motivated by love, passion, and act even against Az’s will.

Maybe he’s not as unreadable as some think. I don’t think most of the IC have really thought about the shadows much. After all, he’s just a Spymaster and Shadowsinger.

Good gods this was very long but if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed lol. I hope all of this made sense.

[creedslove]

Whiskey Intoxication 🥃

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!agent!reader

He's intoxicating, you want him even if it's not healthy, but there's one problem: he doesn't like you 🥃

Summary: you can't help but feel jealous of Whiskey when he sleeps with his target instead of just getting information

Warnings: angst, jealousy, jealous!reader, mentions of smut, unrequited feelings, age gap (not specified, but Whiskey is older than you), sort of depressed Whiskey

A/N: I had this idea after the frustrating attempts I had of roleplaying with Whiskey characters on c.ai; it just didn't work, but I at least this one shot came out of it, lol!

1.8k words

You paced the room, looking out the window and watching the glaring lights from the city at night; checking the time, it read half past midnight and Whiskey still wasn't back. Knowing damn well where he was and what he was doing you shook your head, finally getting rid of your party dress, kicking your heels off and getting on the couch. The hotel room was comfortable, large and fancy, but it felt so empty and the fact your partner hadn't been back only made it worse. It hadn't been long since you started being paired up with Whiskey on missions. It had always been fun and exciting to go on missions with senior Agent Whiskey. He was experienced, fun, and so great at fighting, you were always safe and all your mission results were successful. For quite a while, it had been your favorite kind of job, that was until you noticed Whiskey's usual flirt actually made you giggle, and that his eyes would roam all over your body whenever you were dressed up to go undercover or you would have to hold hands, wear fake wedding rings and occasionally exchange a peck on the lips in public in order to make your cover even more believable, but when you noticed you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he was around, how your palms were sweaty and that your heart raced the moment that damn cowboy shot you a beautiful smile. 

Just as your heart clenched every time he gave some other woman the same kind of attention, how he flirted with them, charmed them, placed his hand on their knee at a bar stool or times like these, where he chose to straight up sleep with the target instead of just getting all the information he could and get out as fast as possible. You hated how you never got to be one of Whiskey's girls, perhaps because you wanted to be more than just one night stand. He knew that, he heard you multiple times talking about your desire of having roots, building a family and all that cliche. For a while, you thought you and Jack were the same, judging by the stories you heard about his background you had figured he would want to have a second chance, but you just guessed he didn't. Perhaps the trauma of losing it all was enough for him to make up his mind and decide he didn't want it anymore, it kind of made sense to you why he was just sleeping from woman to woman without any emotional attachments. 

Another situation that really hurt you, was to know that you almost became one of them; it was during your mission to England, you, Jack and the other agent from Kingsman had to go undercover in a music festival, which was actually a pleasant surprise, if it weren't for the fact Jack had been turned down by the target in a way it really embarrassed him, perhaps it started a midlife crisis, you wouldn't be able to tell, but the reality was that in no time you and Jack were back at the hotel, he had your body pressed against the wall as you were both making out inside the elevator. You would probably never forget how your body felt on fire at his mere touch. His cologne lingering on your body, his lips on yours and then on your neck. It was all intoxicating. It was addictive… and just as it had started, it had ended just as abruptly. He let go of your body and cleared his throat, feeling suddenly embarrassed and went straight to his room. After that certain episode, he hadn't said anything else, and you were forced to do the same, pretending it never happened, though your heart and your body ached for another one of his devilish touches. 

You pulled a blanket over your body and sighed at the desperation that grew in your chest. What the hell was going on with you? How could your feelings for Whiskey keep growing even if the rational attitude would stay away as much as possible and perhaps try to go and meet someone else; it was a dead end. You couldn't simply use someone else's feelings in order to get over yours for Whiskey, it was wrong and someone would end up hurt. 

The moment you heard the door unlocked, you took a deep breath, knowing he would be there, smelling like another woman, probably with a shit eating grin and still a little dizzy out of his sex haze. It didn't matter if it was only his business, he still took the opportunity of having his fun. As he walked inside the room just like you had predicted, he kicked off his shoes and began unbuttoning his shirt, well, the rest of it, as he hadn't even bothered buttoning it all the way up in the first place. As he got closer and sat next to you on the couch, you could see the hickeys all over his neck, your stomach twisting at the undeniable proof he'd been with another woman. 

You had never been married, but you'd been desperately in love with a man who didn't think twice before sleeping around, even if he didn't belong to you, just the fact you two had to act as a married couple in front of people had already given you a sense of ownership. It was wrong, but that was how you felt, you felt as if Jack Daniels was your cowboy, your man, and it gutted you to see him so close without actually being able to touch him.

"I'm tired, sugar.." he groaned as he extended his legs and rested his feet on the coffee table 

"I bet you are… getting your dick wet every mission is exhausting" you rolled your eyes at him, not controlling your tone and saw him shake his head, getting up with a groan and taking a step away from you, he never really understood why you would always get so snappy at him the moment he slept with a target; he actually did understand it, he knew you had a crush on him, but he thought you would've figured out he didn't reciprocate the feelings and that you should have done something about it. It just annoyed that cowboy to no end how you were nice and sweet one moment and the next you seemed you couldn't even stand being around him. 

He placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, clearly annoyed 

"What's your problem with me, huh? I was doing my job, I got ourselves the leads and information we needed, better than staying here all night sulking like a goddamn spoiled child!" 

He took a step closer, feeling so angry but you scrunched your nose softly and sneezed a couple of times, earning a puzzled look from him 

"You are reeking of that bitch's cheap perfume, Whiskey! Stay away!" You said angrily not needing another allergy crisis kicking in at that moment. He sighed deeply one last time and took his stetson off, locking himself in the bathroom so he could shower and continue his conversation with you. 

Jack stared at himself in the mirror after his shower, seeing the hickeys the target left on his skin and sighed; just because he didn't share the same feelings for you as you did for him, it didn't mean he liked rubbing it on your face. It hurt you, but you also had to understand it was part of the job and if roles were reversed, he would have to accept you sleeping around just the same. You were lying on the bed now, only the nightstand lamps were on, as you kept staring at the fake wedding ring on your left hand, absorbed in your thoughts deeply, barely noticing when the mattress sank next to you at the weight of the cowboy, who sat by your side. 

"Darlin' I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't have called you a child" he told you in a soft tone, knowing how much you hated whenever he called you anything related to that, he was older than you, yes, but you were a functional adult who hated when he tried to pull that card on you. 

"When I said I was tired, I wasn't talking about our target, I was talking about this life… this lonely, pointless life" he shrugged and took your left hand into his bigger one, his rough fingers stroking your wedding band distractedly "I just feel lost, like I have no real purpose, I have no one to come back home to, no one to spend all the money I get with, it's just weird…" he confessed, giving you his honest sad eyes, and you softened up. As much as you often felt angry with him because of the unrequited mess of feelings you both were in, you also felt so sorry for him. Jack was still young, he still had time to build a family, find someone to be happy with, instead of dwelling into his loneliness and sadness like he did. 

"I'm sorry Jack… I was harsh to you too, I know it was just part of your job, well, our job and I was selfish" you sighed "but I don't like seeing you like that, you know… upset" 

"Don't worry about me, sugar…" he squeezed your hand gently, his finger still toying with your ring "I'm sure one day you'll be an amazing wife, you're already a great fake wife to me, and I ain't even worthy of you, in our fake marriage, I mean" he chuckled softly "you'll be great at it, and if you ever have kids you'll be an amazing mom, I just know it." 

"Jack, you know you can still have it all, right? I know about what happened, when you were married for the first time, but you can try it again, you can remarry, perhaps even have children, you can start all over again" 

You can start all over again with me. 

You can marry me.

Have kids with me. 

That was what you thought but didn't dare say it. 

"It's too late for me, I already had my happy ending, sugar, I just lost it" he shrugged and got up, walking to the couch and settling down, he was too much of a gentleman to impose his presence in bed with you, even if that was exactly what you craved, even if you couldn't have him whole, you would like to at least have the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, but unfortunately another mission was coming to an end and nothing happened. 

You sighed and buried your face into your pillow, resting your eyes in hopes of dreaming about the man who was right there but so out of reach at the same time. 

____

[jasmine326]

Hello and thank you for coming to my Tedtalk.

Okay, how in the Hell is Lloyd Garmadon's son??

I am about to go off about this because it's honestly bothering me. There are many pieces of evidence pointing against Lloyd being Garmadon's son but there is nothing. NOTHING. Solid enough to really mean anything and it really makes me angry.

Me and my friend just recently got back into Ninjago from originally being into it when we were kids and we have proposed the idea that Lloyd is not in fact Garmadon's son.

Evidence 1:

This man, Lloyd, has blond hair. BLOND. You know what color hair misako had before she became an old hag? and Garmadon before he was fully evil? Brown. They both had brown hair.

You see this?? You see this shit!!? There is clearly some fowl play here.

Evidence 2:

There is no noticeably evil influence over Lloyd. Garmadon was bitten by the great devourer when he was very young and it almost immediately began to take effect in him. This venom took hold in every aspect of his being, mental, emotional, and physical. This is more speculation than anything admittedly but if it was powerful enough to change his entire completion it would have affected his DNA and therefore would have affected his child.

Evidence 3:

The timeline doesn't fit. Garmadon had left for the underworld a while ago, how old was Lloyd when we first see him? Like 12 maybe, at most. Wu and misako are young adults in the picture above and that picture is from right before Garmadon left for the underworld. Misako I guess could have greyed that much in a little over a decade, but Wu?? No. Absolutely not. Completely impossible for that amount of aging to happen in 13 years at most. This amount of time is a generous estimate.

The Theory

Garmadon is not the father. You know who is? Wu. Lloyd has to be Wu's kid. Wu has blond hair, the same hair color as Lloyd. Misako always seemed more affectionate towards Wu than she did towards Garmadon, even after the second season when he became good again. Wu was there when Garmadon had left and misako had no one. Wu wanted to take Lloyd in off the street and give him a loving family when the serpentine had all left him to fend for himself and when the ninja couldn't care less for him. He went to the entire underworld to fetch his brother, the downfall of Ninjago itself, so that Lloyd could be saved from the snakes.

The Flaw:

Basically the only flaw in this argument is the fact that recessive genes exist. This argument, however, IS BULLSHIT BECAUSE GUESS WHAT FUCKERS THAT'S NOT HOW STORYTELLING WORKS. You don't make a character blond with two brunet parents when the blond is actually from those two parents. And recessive genes also do not account for the timeline of when garmadon left and when Lloyd was born.

The only question we're left with is why. Why did this happen? Why doesn't Garmadon know? Why doesn't Wu say anything?

Honestly, couldn't tell you. My friend and I have some thoughts though. They think that Misako sleeps around a lot and they don't know that Lloyd is Wu's kid. That or they told Garmadon that Lloyd is his son in order to give the dark Lord an emotional attachment to something and therefore a weakness of sorts. Really I'm not sure what to think, I think maybe Misako knows who's kid he is but it's possible Wu doesn't. Potentially Misako was with Wu and she received the letter that was from Garmadon that actually turned out to be from Wu and she decided to dump Wu for Garmadon even though she had already gotten pretty close to him, close enough to make Lloyd even. This theory doesn't go with the timeline but you know it's whatever, that's just a theory after all.

[ohbo-ohno]

About ghoap x reader, I dunno if you'll understand where I'm coming from, but I find it hard to imagine their relationship functioning in any capacity if reader DOESNT like Johny. Or if she likes Simon more than Johny. Like at first maybe Simon will be a bit chuffed, get that kick of control of superiority, but if reader doesn't quickly show interest of liking Johny, or an inclination, than Simon will start taking it personally?

Like what do you mean you don't like Johny? Look at him, he's sweet, he's obedient (sometimes) and he's just... Lovable. What do you MEAN you DONT like him? What is wrong with you?? And I think if you insist, or simply don't click with Johny, you start to slowly lose value in Simon's eyes. Like someone being unappreciative of his pups presence is an offence.

Doesn't matter if you like Simon, if you can't accept both of them, then maybe you don't have a place here. I think of Simon as a logical man, and even if he does like you, whatever initial thoughts he has on you will quickly depend on if you try to obey, get along, and fit in.

You can lead a horse to water, or whatever the saying was. Basically, if he finds more and more that it's an effort to make you want to obey, he'll just get rid of you. Like even Johny at his worst, always disobeying and making Simon have grey hairs, at least WANTS to try to be good, always has that need/want to obey, even if he fails sometimes.

And I think if you don't try, or take for granted that you're gonna stay here with that attitude, he just. Realizes that you aren't it. Gets rid of you and tries again. Maybe he dumps you back into civilization or kills you, who knows. But he simply cleans his hands of you.

Maybe he tries to find someone else, looking much MUCH more carefully for his requirements. Maybe he doesn't, at least for a while. Poor Johny is heartbroken that you didn't like him, that you didn't want to be around him. He tried so HARD, and that's the thanks Simon's boy gets? Absolutely unnaceptable.

He takes the time to console Johny, build him back up again after the incident, and maybe it takes time, Simon questions if they need to try again. This time, he'll be more meticulous, have a longer vetting process, and have to make sure they to put in effort for the both of them.

Probably do some private training before meeting Johny, so they have good behavior, don't hurt his poor puppy's fragile heart. They're not told they have to get along with Johny, otherwise they might try to fake it, but if they don't like him Simon makes sure they don't stick around long enough for his boy to get too attached. It's a trial and error sort of thing, but Simon hopes to find the One in the first few attempts- he likes Johny in physical pain, never emotional one, at least not like that. He won't make that mistake again.

Feel free to ignore my ramblings it is 3:03 am where I'm from I should be asleep deer god. I think when I see so much x reader fics, as much as I love them, my mind tries to go in a more cruel direction to fit into the perspective of who the characters are to me.

I LOVE ghoap x reader, or just ghoap in general, but my kind has a way of thinking of Simon as a control freak who doesn't succombé to his emotions quickly. It took him time to even like soap as a friend, much less as his dog. Even if he likes reader, he only did this because he loves Johny and the pup needs a new friend.

Johny is more emotional I guess, maybe less so than he portrays to Simon (he wants to be the man's good boy, and if he has to bark and wag his literal tail, or make dog noises in public, he'll do it) but definitely a bit more than normal people. Definitely the type to have crushes or fall in love fast. Maybe that's how Simon got the first reader: Johny liked her, Simon naively thought that that was enough to choose her.

But his boy is the type to hump anything with a pulse (and even that's optional) so maybe he should have been more patient, more critical.

Anyways I'm gonna collapse after this gosh does this thing not have a word counter? Anyways bye bye my love *kisses your forehead consensually I hope*

"It took him time to even like soap as a friend, much less as his dog." has left me dead on the floor

btw you might like The Price to be Paid! it's a ghoap x reader where ghost puts a looooot of effort into picking who he's going to kidnap for Johnny, and istg parts of it feel like they were plucked right from my subconscious, the author has a perfect grip on ghost as a character (imo)

in general, i think you are completely and totally 100% right. the only caveat i have is in a kidnapping fic it might take ghost a bit to figure the difference between "she hates us because we kidnapped her" and "she just hates us because we suck" lmfao but! overall i think you're totally right, that man won't talk to anyone who doesn't like his favorite boy

[otakween]

Digimon Frontier: Island of Lost Digimon

This was actually pretty fun! It wasn't the strongest Digimon movie by a long shot, but it was good as a Frontier side story. It was nice to see them revisit the whole "beast digimon vs. human digimon" conflict that they didn't do much with in the show. Also, I got to see my Digimon World 3 friends again! They were super cute.

Notes:

I enjoyed Izumi humming Funiculi Funicula in the intro to the movie. For a split second I thought it was Bolero and was about to throw hands lol.

What the HECK were they riding on in the opening? It wasn't really a Trailmon it was more like a Mike Wazowski themed rail cart. They, of course, never explained.

This movie's aesthetic was really weird. I don't know if it was necessarily higher quality animation. It kinda looked like they took the usual level of quality and put a "cinema" filter over it or something. Also some of the "shots" were weirdly cropped and almost blurry. IDK if that's just because there isn't a clean copy on the internet or if it was a stylistic choice. At least the characters are super on model, which is more than I can say for the show!

Speaking of animation quality, they were a little too obsessed with using CGI in this movie. It looked really bad and added nothing lol. Also, what was with the neon disco rave tanks? They felt extremely out of place.

Once again we get a lot of unnecessary focus on Izumi's butt...

So many new (or new-ish) background digimon! I kept being like "ooh, who's that?" I really liked the bunny-with-razors-for-ears design. It's funny how they debut new digimon in the movies and games, it almost feels like they're testing them out.

The original title is more like "The Revival of the Ancient Digimon." I can see why they would change that cuz it sort of feels like a big spoiler.

Kotemon and Bearmon were super cute. It was exciting to see their anime forms. They had really nice voices as well (in Japanese and English). Kinda wish I had watched this before DW3 instead of the other way around, whoops!

They used the exact same plot of "evil character encourages war to resurrect evil monster via the sacrifice of many" in the isekai series I'm Standing on a MIllion Lives. Makes me wonder how many fantasy series have used that. It must be a more common trope than I thought.

Why does this one digimon look like Impmon and My Melody had a baby?

The whole "beast vs. human" thing still feels silly when half of the "human" side doesn't actually look that human. I could totally see Dinohumon be considered a "beast" in a different series. (Maybe it's a metaphor for how racism is dumb and makes no logical sense).

The visual of digieggs flying and baby digimon being all over the place due to the ongoing war was interesting. I guess they couldn't go to the Village of Beginnings because the island is blocked off from the rest of the digital world?

One CGI scene literally looked like the 3D maze screensaver from Windows 98 lol

Kinda rolled my eyes when Bokomon said that Murmukusmon (what a mouthful) could turn into any digimon. What OP power will they think of next? Also, we only saw him digivolve into two digimon, so I'm not that impressed.

That final battle was pure chaos and I had a lot of trouble following wth was going on. I didn't know why AncientGreymon/AncientGarurumon were suddenly there so I googled it. Apparently it was due to "the power of Kotemon's sacrifice and Bearmon's tears"...riiiight. Shounen movie logic.

AncientGreymon looks amazing and AncientGarurumon looks..aight lol. I'm totally biased to prefer beast-like digimon

Kinda anticlimactic to have two "spirits" do the dirty work instead of our heroes, not gonna lie. Maybe if we had met AncientGreymon and AncientGarurumon before and had some level of emotional attachment to them it would have been more impactful.

The new mural with the Frontier MCs and Bearmon/Kotemon at the end was cute

[blueikeproductions]

So I’m now aware of EarthSpark rumors of a major character dying in the final episodes, and for whatever reason TFW2005 insists in their speculation it’s gonna be Optimus so Twitch gets the Matrix.

-rubs temples in confusion and annoyance-

Ok so a few things.

How the slag does that make any sense? Optimus is barely a character in EarthSpark, the show treats Megatron more as the hero. The way the show treats Optimus so poorly, I think if they could get away with it, Dot would be partying like Squidward at the mere idea of Optimus dying.

My point being they offer no emotional reason or investment for this Optimus dying. TFA gave a more emotional punch for its Optimus dying and he only stayed dead for a few seconds.

Two, and this is a more silly one, but how would the Matrix even fit inside Twitch’s chest? I’m pretty sure Twitch is about the same size AS the Matrix itself, unless the MacGuffin can size change? I don’t remember if that’s ever been a thing actually. For that matter does it even make sense for Twitch to get the Matrix? Having the Matrix typically means you’re the leader of ALL Transformers (but specifically Autobots in war time). I don’t think Twitch wants that or ever had a desire for that. Nor does it really make sense to give her the Matrix simply to make her leader of the Terrans, when she and Robbie seem to take turns. … Admittedly Robbie is more the leader than she is during S2, so shouldn’t Robbie get the Matrix by that logic?

Basically this but with Robbie instead of Hawk.

It would arguably make more sense if the Terrans were to have their own Matrix, they would’ve gotten a Terran Matrix of Bonds or some such. Presumably created from the Emberstone itself similar to the TFA Allspark getting a G1 Matrix container.

There’s also the Mini-Con Matrix from Dreamwave Armada.

Although that wasn’t a symbol of leadership but a MacGuffin designed to kill Unicron by the dead Mini-Cons of another universe. Plus the more I think of it, the Cyber Sleeves are a sort of Matrix in their own right, so I guess Robbie did get the Matrix after all….!

On a related note, they tried a similar idea in Cyberverse, with Robo-Robotnik and normal Megatron both being able to use the Autobot Matrix.

Admittedly they shouldn’t be able to because even Autobot Megatron couldn’t use the Matrix without Rodimus Prime helping him in IDW. And the last time otherwise in G1 saw Galvatron being unable to use it in his cannon, and Scourge became this.

So this leads into who is more thematically appropriate: Megatron.

He is basically all but the Autobot leader in the eyes of the writers, and the best character ever in that same regard. There’s far more emotional attachment by comparison to Optimus too; Megatron’s role, similar to his IDW self, is about redemption, second chances, trying to keep the next generation from making his same mistakes, & if necessary dying for his found family. That would be a more thematic end for Megatron, dying for his sins, but fully redeemed in protecting the Terrans and Maltos against… I would assume the Quintessons.

Plus, let’s be honest, if someone were to get the Matrix after Optimus, it’d more than likely be Megatron due to the staff’s bias towards him and their clear distain of Optimus. Wouldn’t that be something, Megatron basically “wins” by being good and inheriting the Matrix to lead Cybertron with the Terrans as his cheer leaders and angels to keep him on the straight and narrow.

Still regarding the Matrix, Hasbro continues to be weird about someone becoming Prime after Optimus, and a new Megatronus Prime, Twitchimus Prime or Maltous Prime probably wouldn’t fly with Hasbro if we still can’t get a proper Rodimus Prime in cartoons that isn’t a butt monkey. -side eyes Prime Wars in particular-

[silver-starss]

I have (spoilery) Thoughts on Ahsoka episode four

First of all how dare you

Second of all how dare you

THIRD OF ALL HOW DARE YOU

Bro why is Hera taking Jacen on this mission? I know she has a penchant for lugging around badass kids, but he's what, 10? A bit young imo.

Called it. Marrok was a red herring. Filoni knew that we'd all go nuts about the identity of yet another cool masked dude and let fan speculation run wild. Though him turning to dust does bring up new questions...

Sabine and Shin round two! I like that Sabine was actually able to use her armor/equipment this time and fight Shin on more even ground.

That moment when Marrok died and Shin seemed genuinely shook? And Sabine recognizing this and trying to take advantage of Shin's shookness? *chef's kiss*

Really good special effects in the shot with the ring coming out of the atmosphere! That was stunning!

Ahsoka and Baylan fight was genuinely cool, and the choreography felt much more Ahsoka-esque. Particularly that flip she did, which didn't look wired like the one from Ep 2.

So Clan Wren is dead. :/ Not surprising, I assumed that would be Sabine's character arc when the series was first announced (feeling survivor's guilt after the Purge), but what does Ahsoka have to do with that? Is it an emotional support thing?

Sabine joining up with the bad guys makes sense. Her #1 priority is finding Ezra and they're her only means of getting there. She's probably planning to gun down Thrawn in the process, though I imagine Baylan is fully aware of that and planning accordingly.

On the bright side, this gives us more opportunities to explore her rivalry with Shin...

Speaking of, love the dynamic with Shin being the feral one yet actually listening to/respecting her master. I imagine there's a story there and I'm very curious to hear it.

I don't know whether to be mad or impressed that Jacen said part of the Iconic Star Wars Line but not the full thing.

Beautiful transition between the ocean and the World Between Worlds. It looks absolutely gorgeous in live-action.

Why and how is Ahsoka in the World Between Worlds?

HAYDEN ALREADY???? I didn't think he'd show up until episode 5.

"SNIPS" (!!!!!)

Holy fucking shit I'm losing my mind.

He looks way better than he did in Kenobi, but the de-aging isn't 100% great. Still though.

Interesting that Ahsoka's first instinct was to call him "Master". Old habits (and attachments) die hard I guess. They're going to have some serious issues to sort out next ep though.

Lmao casuals must be super confused by this ending. Imagine that.

Goddamn that's a cliff-hanger. And on the strongest episode so far!

[writtenbyred]

Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment. 

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve. 

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through. 

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened. 

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again. 

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision. 

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her. 

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.” 

And so you did. 

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn. 

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming. 

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you. 

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care. 

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix. 

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore. 

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it. 

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however. 

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen. 

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you. 

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. 

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good. 

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation. 

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him. 

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself. 

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall. 

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs. 

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him. 

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target. 

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again. 

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry. 

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving. 

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel. 

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you. 

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised. 

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. 

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic. 

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing. 

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation. 

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you. 

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning. 

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips. 

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath. 

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you. 

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear. 

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight. 

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel. 

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask. 

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away. 

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night. 

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat. 

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black. 

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home. 

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening. 

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

[laugtherhyena]

What are some of you're favourite Sprite edits you've made Whether that be this year, or any over years you've been in the sprite editing business

Ok so I've made A LOT of edits over the years so it took a lil while for me to sort out the favorites and why exactly, but here it is so get ready for some rambling!

First things first i gotta say this isn't really organized from the one i like the most and least, i like all of these edits a whole lot and i really don't think i can pick one or two to be the favorite.

So let's start from the start (sorta) i have to give a spot to my Fantasy Au twins edits, it would be illegal to not put them in this list

The Sdra2 Fantasy Au was one of the first things i made in the fandom and i was attached to it for a long while. These are actually the 4th version of their sprites, out of all them only the 3rd had a full gallery of sprites and trust me they were complex since on top of posting i even made different tails and ears to move around depending on the emotion of the sprite.

Even tho i never finished this 4th take on them I'm pretty happy with the redesign (since as i grew older i realized some of my choices were questionable and i really should have thought more before just going with it, just keep in mind i was a dumb 14-15 year old then) and the improvement on graphical quality because not only does it show how much i improved in editing but also because editing the fantasy twins were my first really hard edits and i was always happy with how well i was able to translate their weird little designs to sprite form.

The Fantasy Au as a whole had a lot of edits with a bunch of complicated details that i never finshed and although I don't like them as much as the twins i do feel like they deserve to be shown somehere so have this pile of lizards, undead firemen and two human girls.

(fun fact; i didn't know how to add textures back then so see those scales on the dragons? I made them all by hand-)

Next one on the list has gotta be the Nijiue siblings! Crazy to think these guys are only 2-3 years old like it feels like they've been with me for ao much longer!

These guys where my first try at making Oc sprites since before all i did were Au stuff and they're very very dear to me, as you can probably guess by the amount of spites an different iterations i made of them over the years. While there are a few things i could improve upon them if i were to remake their edits nowadays, i never felt a strong need to do so because as it is their sprites hold up well imo so remaking them feels unnecessary to me.

And you know I can't really talk about them without mentioning the Voidswap Au and a couple tumblr blogs owned by friends of mine. After Voidswap's cancelation i didn't thought I'd ever use these guys for anything so to think that nowadays there's so many people who not only know these characters but care for them a lot out of seeing them in Asoot and Dfta more recently really fills me with joy! I'm glad y'all enjoy my silly siblings so much and obviously huge thanks to the mods for wanting to include them in their stories, I really couldn't be more thankful for that!

And since we're talking about the fam, let me add Mako to the list as an honorable mention of sorts, a i'm still very happy with how i made her adult designs especially the whole closed trenchcoat and open trenchcoat thing she has going on and how i was able to cary out the heart motif on both of them :]

This next one is one of my newer edits + a pretty simple one which is this Irl Sora design i made for mod Bubbles around early this year.

Honestly, I don't even know how to explain why i like it this much? Maybe it's because Sora is one of the characters from Sdra2 i still decently enjoy or because i had a fun time coming up with her design. I had in mind that i wanted something plain and simple just like her in-game one, just adapted to a more adult look. Rolled up sleeves to resemble her uniform's ones and a scarf to bring back the spark of red her old design had, i also gave her the short hair that post game Yuki has because it's still her body at the end of the day + i think butch-ish Sora looks pretty good :]

From simplicity we jump back into weirdness with these last ones because obviously i wouldn't leave my girls out of this list, what did you guys even expect?

Favoritism? Absolutely, by now I'm sure all of you know how much i like these two but focusing on the graphical side for once, I'm super proud of their designs, i think they fit with the weirdness of some of Linuj's design choices pretty well which in turn makes them look kinda legit? In my head at least. I also had a lot of fun working on their sprites, especially Beni's since it had been a long while since i last tried to really exaggerate expressions on sprites of my characters so that was really fun! + I'm super proud of the baby sprites i made of them too, almost as much as i like their standard/adult designs really.

[nqn]

the many. many faces in which stan marsh has taken within my personal writing. the many ways in which he permeates my mind and i find him within my characters near constantly, whether he wants to be there or not.

i find that, often, if i create a character meant to represent him or contain some of my emotions around/regarding him, then they are extremely close knit with a character who is supposed to fill some sort of role as 'me'. he is often in a hard-to-define relationship with the 'me' character, or in some cases, a found-family brother. it is difficult to pin down. but if there's a me, there will be a stan, and vice versa.

i guess the first category is "that's just stan", which admittedly, doesn't make for much of an original character, but i've got so many headcanons and such personal attachment through myself that... he might as well be. i think i'll only be sharing these obvious stand ins, for the time being. i got nervous writing out this post and need to hold SOME of my stanleys out of reach atm.

baker (art: me) | rayne (art: adrian+me) | gensi (art: me)

to start here is my classic "stan needs a fursona." sort of. the first one here is Baker, who IS just 'what if stan had a fursona'. the second is rayne who is a big dumb doggy who took all his best friends and left an ugly town he didnt wanna live in anymore, and is trying. SO hard to live somewhere else. however, he's also like. stan's fursona. the third is gensi, who is also currently sort of a blank character that i looked at and said "yeah, another blue/black dog in my possession, thats stanley alright"

then there's the people, who range from 'thats stan', to 'what the fuck'

stan (art: me), marshwalker (art: adrian+me), raven (art: quailxcrossing)

this first one IS just stanley. i don't really try and act like he's an oc, because he isn't. this is the culmination of my 18 years living with a deep attachment to stan. i love him so much the second is marshwalker, though he's taken on moonwander in original writing, because it is cute and honestly fits his werewolf theming better. this is obviously a tsot inspired version of him, but he spans a lot further than that. he works his way into personal projects i've been cooking for about a year now, and slotted himself so perfectly into the story that it's almost wild to think i've only had him for two weeks. he's more of an oc both with the changes made to tsot for our au, AND because he IS stan's oc. like. marshwalker is stan playing a character, moonwander is... an evolution of that same character. the third one is raven. which i just... didn't have the energy to name much of anything else. he is a companion to one of my primary sona characters, and he's a sort of sign of snapshot of my stan, from about 5 years ago. while stan has changed a lot, raven remains the same. he's one i'd call more original now, because of the fact that none of the story he has rings true with..... anything in south park. he's just my little guy who is a dog and drinks too much sometimes.

zherr (art: me) | marsh (art: me) | alucard (art: adrian)

zherr lou is the first one here, and he's inspired by a song i heavily associate with stan. he's...... he's fucking depressed, we'll put it like that. he's going through the worst of it all the time in his mind, and what does he have to show for the struggle? nothing. he's trying, so, so fucking hard to get better. it isn't working out. he's a loser. marsh is the second! creative name, isn't it? he was actually one of my very first "oh that's stan" OCs, obtained alongside another character who fell into a role of representing me pretty well. he's sort of just an emo boy with a serious. SERIOUS of case of bad luck. but emotionally he fills the niche of a stan. alucard is third! he's a bit of a funny story- because he sort of... is also inspired by sebastian of stardew valley? adrian and i were playing, and constructing SUCH a weird narrative, and stan wanted to play too! so. he got to make himself a guy to fit in that role. he's really cool, he's a demon and he only HAS one eye and he cares so much. SO much. he's loves his spouses.

lowell (art: adrian) | logan (art: adrian) | alluin (art: me)

now THESE guys. the first one here is lowell!! he's been my reaction to going absolutely fucking feral over post covid. he's a hellhound who had a bad life and was down on his luck and stumbled drunk into a cafe bc he got cut off at the bar, and saw the prettiest fucking man in his life and has been doing everything to get that man to love him (spoiler: they are husbands eventually) second is logan, based on a mix of the "opposite personality" universe from spookyfish, as well as... as soul evans of soul eater. adrian and i will just make characters that are Anything, okay. it's kinda fucking awesome. he's bitchy and ready to attack people. he's a guard dog for his best friend. he's red. i love him. what more is there to say really. and alluin is the third... ohh, alluin.. in a really big over simplification of the idea. alluin exists to fuel a "what if i lost him" view. the effort i'd go to get him back. the things i would be willing to change to be what was needed to house him. he is so SO deeply personal and important and i cant even get INTO it. he's everything.

hickory (art: me) | abica (art: adrian) | camp (art: adrian)

these three are fun! they feel more like explorations of an extreme, honestly? hickory is a board gamer. a little diy craft kit collector. he's a fuckin DORK and i LOVE HIM. abica is femininity! she represents a happy, healthy idea of it. the ideal version of stan- if he was feminine. she's also super cool and part of an awesome polycule and has so many partners and i think shes the sickest bitch in the world camp is sport! i mean. he's like literally a doggy based on gatorade. he's a jocky sportboy and he's sorta stupid in most other aspects and i think he's so funnnnnnn... guy who is eye candy to people who like 'em buff. he knows it, too.

---

and i have more! i have a lot more. however, um. my vulnerability meter ran out and i got scared so here's these!!!!

[my-favourite-zhent]

Writer Interview

Tagged by the lovelies @commander-krios here and @coreene here

Tagging: @dustdeepsea @thisaccountisagainstmywill @fistfuloftarenths

@littleplasticrat @captainsigge @grossestjay

Questions under the cut!

When did you start writing?

I suppose depends what counts? Where I went to school we did creative writing as early as six. The first stories I remember were Halloween stories I wrote with very unhappy endings.

Writing purely for myself maybe not till high school? I dabbled in a little fanfiction and then didn't touch it again for years and years and then suddenly BG3 and Rugan happened, smdh.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Just like Krios I enjoy horror novels, although I actually prefer horror as short stories/novellas. If you look at my spotify history you will see a lot of NoSleep podcast and Knifepoint Horror so its definitely a running theme. I could never write horror though, would spook myself too much. I did rather like the tiny horror story in one of the books in Baldurs Gate.

I also enjoy reading low fantasy (low magic, more grit, considerably plucky, ensemble casts) which I think comes across in New Tricks, but in contrast the stories I read have very minimal if any romance.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Nope, as much as there are many writers I enjoy and at times think "I wish I were that talented" I also don't wish to be a perfect copy of anyone's style because what's the point of that?

I suppose if it was something more like "as funny as so and so" or "world-building on level of such and such" then probably Pratchett, Rothfuss, Sapowski or Glen Cook?

I will literally write anywhere, a lot of my ideas pop-up while daydreaming and I have to get them down when they happen or I won't remember clearly later. So at my desk, in bed, on the couch, on the train, standing in the shoppe, literally anywhere.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Consuming other media. Books, TV, movies, podcasts, etc. Seeing a scene or circumstance and imagining how the characters I write would react under similar circumstances.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hmm hadn't considered it before but I guess so far: grey morality, class differences (this likely due to my muse being Rugan) and overcoming betrayal? I suppose the last one surprises me a little, I think I might just like the angst of it.

What is your reason for writing?

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I mentioned earlier I haven't touched personal creative writing since high school, although I did consume fanfiction on occasion. I originally returned due to a frustration at the lack of Rugan content. I wanted to consume, but at the time there wasn't much, compounded by the fact that I did not have an AO3 account at the time so of the few that existed I could only see half. So I started by writing how I thought getting that drink at the Elf Song might go.

After that I got a bit attached to the OC and was inspired by the works of @dustdeepsea to write something with a little more emotional depth. I was prone to daydreaming these sorts of things before but I never put pen to paper till now.

I'm happy any time someone enjoys my work, but I suppose the best comments are when the reader notices the characterization I've been trying to get across. It makes me feel validated that I'm able to write certain qualities without (hopefully) being too on the nose with it.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Me or my writing? Myself, hopefully reasonable and open-minded. My writing, I hope they find it funny and exciting in turns, I hope it makes people feel some sort of emotion even if negative rather than being boring. I hope the world I've tried to piece together from bits of Forgotten Realms lore feels consistent and cohesive, that the rules and stakes make sense.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Similar to Krios I think my dialogue comes across the best of all my writing, and it certainly feels the easiest to get down.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It seems to change by day and chapter. There are some things that when I write I'm quite pleased, and then come back a month later and am quite embarrassed by. Other things I didn't like originally but actually enjoy quite a bit on reread. I find myself having to just post things I'm unhappy with at times otherwise I won't get on with the story. I jokingly tell myself "we'll fix it in post!" and I have slowly begun some edits of early chapters so it's not a complete lie.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

It's mostly what I think the story needs at the time. There are times where I feel "augh we've been on this mood/theme for too long, the reader will get bored" but I try to reframe it to myself as "is the pacing good? is this scene necessary right now?" and that helps me make a decision that is hopefully a bit more objective. Sometimes we need that information for later, sometimes we don't. I have been known to go back and adjust a thing here or there if the current chapter is missing a bit of set-up and will continue to do so until the story is over. I'm treating it all as a work in progress.

Thanks for reading this far!

[oscconfessions]

On a less controversial note..

THERE'S PEOPLE MISINTERPRETING OS CHARACTERS ON PURPOSE.

and I genuinely HATE IT!

Because I've seen, MANY TIMES, A LOT OF PEOPLE call bot a "PICK ME"

and it's not even only about them,

I'VE SEEN IT WITH PLENTY OTHER CHARACTERS TOO! Just that bot was always the most common one

The thing here is that it looks like you CAN'T have anymore people-related-trouble because then people call any character a "pick me". AMAZING.

LIKE, CHILL??

"Bot was made for an entirely different purpose and they question themselves what they actually REALLY want because they feel like a useless replacement for someone they don't and never knew, and they have support from their friends so they must be a pick me!!"

Or

"Balloon is a character that drowned in loneliness for years and years causing a significant impact on his social life that got him some sort of anxiety that he needed to overcome because he can't be always craving for that approval, so he must be a pick me!!" (I've actually seen people call balloon a pick me but what the actual heck.)

Not trying to be harmful but YES TRYING TO MAKE YOU REACT!! THAT'S NOT EVEN THE ONLY MISINTERPRETATIONS I SEE!

THERE'S ANOTHER ONE.

This time I'm gonna make you guess.

"OMG THIS CHARACTER IS TRYING TO MAKE YOU THINK THAT SHE'S NICE BUT NO, SHE'S CLEARLY A NARCISSISTIC MANIPULATOR BITCH AND YOU SHOULD GO HATE HER BECAUSE SHE ONLY USES HER FRIENDS!!"

*Insert THE character who clearly has some sort of anger issues and attachment issues that wants to be seen as nice because of her fear of being left out by her friends which THEY ACTUALLY CAUSED by abandoning her for years, and she has almost no understanding about the bad she's doing but does it for both anger and sadness, not even knowing how to fully control her emotions*

BRO.

Please.

STOP

MISINTERPRETING

CHARACTERS!!

(Side note: it's okay if you did not know, but there's people that look like they genuinely do it on purpose and it's really fucking annoying. I don't intend any harm, but to make these people react.)

*clears throat*

Thanks.

-🌗🌗

.

[luthinks]

Lack of nuanced conversation around Rafayel

(Bit of a rant, which i posted on reddit, but wanted to share here as well 🙈)

This is just sort of a rant incoming, might contain some spoilers for Rafayel's myths, anecdotes and main story appearance, so please proceed at your discretion ...

Recently I feel like the conversation around Rafayel has gone from him being "bratty" to him being a "murderer" ... The thing that pesters me is, it's always one or the other with these discussions ...

This is just my opinion but I don't think that either of those "personas" are fake. I don't think he's being silly to hide that he has murdered people in the past or that he has some other sinister plans for the future. As I see it, when he is genuinely happy, the silly part of his personality comes out ... The whimsical way he approaches life, he isn't faking that either. Those emotions are also genuine, his dedication towards art all of those are a part of his personality ... Him acting cute and clingy for affection is also not a front because he actually yearns for MC's affection ...

And when it comes to how he has murdered people, I think a lot of nuance is omitted while mentioning that. He isn't going around killing people for the fun of it ... The underlying pain and the years of harm endured by lemurians at the hands of people he goes after aren't talked about enough ... Sure killing humans is messed up, but he has to, for protecting his people who he has failed multiple times who are still being attacked by the said humans ...

"He hates humans". Sure, he says so. But as we have seen, from his anecdotes, he genuinely appreciates his students while he was teaching. Gives inputs that would actually help them. From his cards, he repairs sculpture that means so much to a village. Is definitely cordial to most of the people he comes across... The only time he shows negative emotions towards regular humans is when he talks about their greed or taking for granted the things he finds fascinating ... At his core he's an inquisitive child, who is just fascinated with everything around him ...

Can you imagine a Rafayel, if he wasn't traumatised with everything he had to go through, how he would be, like a ray of sunshine going around experiencing the wonders of human world. Which he was so eager to explore as a child, raising his hand over ocean surface half scared, going around collecting human trinkets ...

Thing is Rafayel is a very layered character. It isn't one or the other with him, all his character traits co-exist. Bitter lemurian who is cynical about how humans are "bad", whimsical lemurians who gets excited by experiencing rain. Is scared or cats, calls them monsters ... Gets attached to one, takes care of it and calls her heartless when she forgets him after getting adopted ... Full of contradictions, this guy, but that's the beauty of him ... And getting to know him ...

And also it is very understated how difficult of a choice he has to make every single time when he choses to save MC's life over lemurians ... I guess the gravity of it can be explained by placing yourself at his position where you have to kill your lover or your entire family, everyone you have known since you were born, dies. I don't know how one recovers from that... And he had to make that decision multiple times ... How hard must it be for him to face the lemurians who are alive but being hunted for their life ... Or how after everything, the one who he mad the sacrifice for, doesn't even remember him ... He knows it's not her fault, but still how can you not hold a grudge after that ... It's all just contradictions with this guy

Well, that's about it. I was just a bit (maybe a lot 😅) bothered about the lack of context when it comes to these discussions. I have seen his lore being dismissed as something "not as painful" as the others and that's simply not just true ... Yeah he gets to be with MC (dubiously unfinished myth says) but at what cost!

Okay I'm done now 🙈

P.S. Cute Rafayel and Serious "Serial Killer" Rafayel both co-exist, neither is more real than the other.

[overleftdown]

i saw this review a bit ago and i've been thinking about it a lot. i want to talk about it. i love hilton als, good god (although how could you hate any character more than oliver? i suppose it's the reality of people like farleigh).

"...while leading a nearly completely fictive life and pretending said gallery isn't paying them to be black. or some branch of show business. authenticity is their enemy, and declaiming 'whiteness'--usually in the press--covets it, reveres it. emotional exhibitionism is all, but not truth--if they could find it." this is such a poignant explanation of what it means to be colored and to exploit said color. declaiming whiteness covets authenticity. emotional exhibitionism is all, but not truth. GOD.

this concept of what it means to utilize your marginalization--to externalize it, to remove yourself from it only until it's useful, to disconnect so ardently from that which is a part of you. it's something i've thought about a lot. als' specific words get me, "the piddling career." because it is piddling, isn't it? god, is it meaningless and pathetic. it makes me think of archie's quote, "i understand this sort of peddling you're doing, trying to catch up to these people."

when i look at farleigh, i see him the same way i see the other boys at school that try so hard to obey whiteness and everything that comes with it. i see him the say way i see my younger self, surrounded by invisible strings that i was terrified of tripping into. running away from something so uncomfortable that you'll use any self-contained currency you own. unsure of when to use your race for the sake of social credit, or when to attempt some odd form of camouflage that never really works. and there's other things that follow or maybe prelude that; your body, your name, the fabric of what makes you an individual. it's heartbreaking and terrifying all the same.

i guess farleigh is my own form of escapism, in the way that i can imagine whatever future i'd like for him. i can imagine that he learns to love, deeply and entirely, what it means to be hurt and heal from it. maybe i kind of do resent part of this fandom for unknowingly attacking my hopeful imagination. whether they hate the character or whether they create their own imaginative realities of farleigh that don't really fit into mine. i have an unhealthy attachment to this character, basically. chatterboxing, who's abt to step into the ring w me?