#That means they can’t argue as much about philosophies so they get along better

[momochiiee]

╭┈˖⋆ ⋅ ❁ ⋅ ──── ┊ Cryptid silent merfolk Alhaitham ┊ ˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆ ┊ Been brainrotting hard on this AU ╰┄───➤ °♡•.

╭─ •.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.• ─╮ Do NOT Repost! ♻️ Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged 💖 ╰─ •°•.⋅ ✿ ⋅.•°•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•.•°⋅ ✿ ⋅°•°• ─╯

#genshin impact #alhaitham #local arquitect feels observed for a while only to discover a merman has been stalking him for weeks #In this AU Alhaitham feigns being mute #He can speak without problem. But he wants to know the pretty human he’s seen sitting alone in a hidden beach #In this AU merfolk voice bewitches humans instantly #Alhaitham is pulling a little mermaid rouse #Kaveh thinks the merman is actually mute #That means they can’t argue as much about philosophies so they get along better #The shiny pendant is a gift from Kaveh 💖 #momochiiee art

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 5/2021) -              He’s Back

Now that Wilbur’s returned, it’s about time he got a look around the server to see what he’s missed since he’s been gone. Tommy gives him a tour.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Philza

Tommyinnit

Wilbur Soot

Skeppy

Captain Puffy

Foolish

---

- Ponk continues work on the supreme fridge in the desert

- Sam logs on to call Ponk handsome. Ponk replies that Punz isn’t online.

- Foolish logs on. 

Sam: Don’t ignore my messages ponk

Ponk: Hey, Foolish qt pie

Foolish: Oohhh ponk :)

Sam: He isn’t as cute as me :)

- Sam lands in front of Ponk as he’s watering the concrete. 

Ponk: “Oh, he’s gonna take my other arm!”

- Sam calls Ponk handsome again and hands him steak. Ponk tosses Sam the picture of Coraline’s mother

- Sam tells Ponk that he’s been doing squats and starts twerking to demonstrate

- Ponk shoves Sam off the fridge. When Sam survives, Ponk figures his booty helped save him from the fall, as Sam comments that the weight sent him falling too fast for him to MLG

- Ponk compliments Sam, saying his eyes are glowing like the stars in the ocean

Sam: It’s because I looked at you

Sam: :)

- Ponk and Sam watch the sunrise together. 

- They talk about Coraline’s mother. Ponk says that she is attractive...but not as attractive as Foolish. Sam immediately jumps off the fridge and runs away

Sam: you don’t got me atm. So it does matter.

Sam: I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

- Sam logs off

- Ranboo hires a mercenary Enderman to kill KSI

- Tommy meets with Wilbur at L’manhole

- Wilbur tells Tommy that all his memories are coming back. He remembers that Friend isn’t Tommy’s sheep but his own. 

- Wilbur wants Tommy to show him around to see what he’s missed. He takes Friend along despite Tommy worrying that Friend could die (”Who cares about a sheep, man? It’s just a sheep.”)

- Wilbur’s made some plans, debated with himself what to do now, and tells Tommy that he’s sorry. It may be hard to believe, but Wilbur’s turned over a new leaf! He feels great now and wants to apologize to people.

- Wilbur is in his forties now and asks how old Tommy is -- twenties, thirties? 

- First off, Tommy shows Wilbur Schlatt’s grave. Wilbur asks to see his own grave to see what people said about him. Tommy shows him L’manhole. Wilbur didn’t get a grave, only what he left behind.

- Wilbur sees Karl’s house (which he remembers), the Big Innit Hotel (which he doesn’t) and says he does remember a bit about the prison from Ghostbur’s memories of it.

- Skeppy comes walking past and they speak with him. Wilbur apologizes to Skeppy for not appreciating his trolling. Skeppy kills Friend by accident. He skepped all over Friend. 

- Skeppy runs away and asks Bad if tridents are like swords in terms of damage. Bad asks what he killed and learns that it was a blue sheep. Skeppy puts the trident in an Ender Chest. Bad warns Skeppy that he may have inadvertently started the next war, and Skeppy ends stream

- Wilbur comes across the invisible staircase and Tommy shows him the McPuffy’s. He asks about Karl. Last Wilbur remembered, Karl was an enemy of his, but has he changed? Tommy says he hasn’t seen Karl around much.

- They reach the hotel and Jack Manifold is standing at the desk. He and Tommy get into a shouting match but Wilbur is excited to see Jack. Jack welcomes him inside and Wilbur waits in one of the suites as Tommy and Jack argue in another room, listening in.

- Tommy takes him up to the roof. There, Tommy tells him about coming up with the plan there to murder Dream in the prison. 

Wilbur: “I’ve seen it all, you’ve had your little strifes -- this isn’t the first, right, Tommy. Tommy, do you remember when you got sent into exile? Yeah, I remember. I was there, Tommy. I was there. I was there -- I was in the cage of that little ghost’s fucking head. Every single step you and me took -- look at me, Tommy, look me in the eyes -- every single step me and you took, I was there -- I was there! I had no control of what was happening, I’ve no idea what was being said, but Tommy -- I’ll tell you what -- if I was there, and it wasn’t that stupid shell of a ghost instead of me...I would’ve struck down Dream right where he stood. We would’ve disemboweled him. We would’ve disemboweled him together.”

“Tommy, I’m not -- I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you, Tommy. I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo -- I saw what he was doing to me. But you know what, Tommy? I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there, was I. We had Ghostbur. Ghostbur was there instead, right. And you know what the issue is, you know what the issue is? After seeing Ghostbur interact with Dream, I realized that no, Dream is not the enemy -- Dream is not the enemy!”

“This world was not supposed to be inhabited by a people of this caliber -- Dream is the hero! Dream needs to be let out of here! Dream’s not in prison for being a horrible person, Dream’s in prison because he dared to try and stop you all. He dared to try and stop you all from gaining all this power, because the minute I was gone, there was a vacuum, there was opening, and everyone just seeked to get in there! And Dream was the only one who stood up to them and told them not to, Dream was the only one who held my seat for me. He held my -- he kept it warm! He kept my throne warm, and you guys didn’t like that, so you threw him in prison! And if Dream died instead of me, I would be in there right now.”

“So Tommy, you should thank that I wasn’t alive to attack Dream when we got exiled! You should be glad we had little, passive Ghostbur, because now Dream’s in there, and I’m out here, baby.”

- Wilbur heads back down to speak with Jack Manifold. He tells Jack that he’s sorry that he didn’t grant freedom to Manifoldland, sorry that he led Jack into war, sorry that he denied Jack access to the election, sorry that he left Jack behind. Jack is a little surprised, but he thanks him and Wilbur and Tommy leave the hotel. 

Tommy: “Wil, just look at me for a second. The reason we started L’manburg, and everything here, was because we knew -- together, me and you, the duo -- together we knew that Dream was the villain. He was the one holding this server down. He was the dictator! ‘Cause you’re telling me even then, you think...you think Dream was the hero?”

Wilbur: “Tommy, I’ve made an oath of not lying now that I’m alive again. So I’m gonna come clean to you with the truth. Uh...one thing, I didn’t actually care about L’manburg, I just cared about -- you know, sticking it to the man. Actually, I cared about L’manburg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man. You ever sticked it to the man, Tommy?”

“L’manburg was a tool. It was a great tool, it worked, you know. It divided so many people, man. Listen, Tommy, and in my oath of not lying I’m gonna tell you know -- Tommy, I’m sorry for a couple things, to each of these people on the server. I’m sorry to a lot of them -- except for Phil, I’ve nothing to apologize to Phil for. Phil’s done nothing wrong. But to the rest of them, I’m sorry for a lot of things -- but Tommy, that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try again.”

- Tommy is confused. L’manburg was Wilbur’s unfinished symphony, how could he not care about it? Wilbur says maybe it wasn’t the right wording, he did care about L’manburg, but for the “wrong reasons.” 

- Wilbur asks to see the museum (though Tommy was going to take him to the Egg). They make it to the museum and Wilbur is excited to see the hto dog van as Tommy continues to protest.

Tommy: “It was like we were a family! You can’t just say that!”

Wilbur: “We were family, Tommy! ...We were. But you know what? You just -- you just didn’t -- I guess you didn’t have the balls to follow along with me. When I pressed the button, you were always against -- we’re leaving it behind, Tommy. It’s in the past--”

Tommy: “You blew up our fucking home!”

Wilbur: “We’re friends now. We’re friends.”

Tommy: “I don’t want to be your friend! You’re annoying and I hate you and you’re ugly and you have a gray hair and I bet you twirl it round and use the dog filter--”

Wilbur: “You’re following me an awful lot for someone who doesn’t care.”

- Wilbur notices the Ranboo My Beloved poster on the wall. He remembers Ranboo as a good man. Tommy says he is, and that he sees potential in him.

- They call Ranboo so that Wilbur can properly meet him. Wilbur says he’s sorry to him. He wanted to get to know Ranboo better, ‘pick his brain.’ Ranboo never met Wilbur in person.

- What nation is Ranboo a part of, who does he align himself with? Ranboo says all of them -- he chooses people, not nations.

Wilbur: “Okay, so -- let’s go an say, so there must be someone bad on the server right, there’s gotta be a bad guy on the server and who --”

Ranboo: “Yeah. Dream, yeah.”

- Wilbur goes quiet for a moment. He then asks what Ranboo stands for. Ranboo says people.

Wilbur: “What ‘people?’ What people? You can’t just stand for people! People are good and bad!”

- Ranboo lists the people he sides with. There are quite a few.

Wilbur: “Everyone? Everyone but Dream, everyone but the one bad guy everyone’s supposed to hate.”

- Wilbur accuses Ranboo of being a “schmoozer.” Ranboo's philosophy is, if someone hasn’t wronged him or the people he cares about, he has no quarrel with them.

- Wilbur says that’s fine in a perfect world, but there are wars that get fought. Ranboo says the server’s been quiet ever since Dream was put in prison and there have been fewer wars since Wilbur died -- to which Wilbur asks if Ranboo is against him in the same way he’s against Dream.

- Wilbur says goodbye to Ranboo, saying that they might get to know each other better in time. Wilbur leaves with Tommy to continue the tour, telling him that Ranboo’s just a follower. 

- Tommy gets angry and tells Wilbur off for being a nuisance, for making him feel like a ghost when Wilbur should be the ghost. They decide to fight, with weapons but no armor. 

- They fight in the Holy Land and Tommy defeats him. Wilbur says, though, that he’s already won no matter what. No matter what happens next, he won when he pressed the button.

- He asks to see Phil. Phil sent him a whole backlog of letters, including ones about things Tommy can’t know about. 

- They arrive at the Arctic and Wilbur remembers this place, remembers finding Friend here. Wilbur reunites with Phil and Wilbur is thrilled by the cottages.

- Wilbur thanks Phil for killing him and tells him the whole bit of what would’ve happened if he’d been there instead of Ghostbur.

- Tommy tells Wilbur that what led to him getting exiled was griefing George’s house with Ranboo. Ranboo didn’t get exiled because Tommy stood up for him -- to which Wilbur asks if Ranboo didn’t stand up for Tommy, letting Tommy get thrown under the bus.

- Phil asks about the lies in the letters. Wilbur tells him that he’s not lying anymore, and he lied in the letters because it’s like writing back from a summer camp -- he didn’t want to tell Phil that everything was going horribly. 

- Wilbur’s made plans, and when they’re ready, Phil will be the first to know. He also asks Phil if he can stay with him for a bit, as he has no house. He also needs a shower.

- Phil agrees to let Wilbur stay despite Tommy protesting, and Wilbur and Tommy leave.

- Ranboo comes over to ask Phil how it went. Phil was skeptical, but it seems like Wilbur’s changed for the better, and that Wilbur spoke highly of Ranboo. As for Ranboo, he says it seems like Wilbur isn’t as bad as people said he was. 

- Phil talks about killing Wilbur and what Wilbur said about it.

- For Wilbur’s plan, he needs lots of stone. Wilbur leaves Tommy at the Nether Portal to go get stone and speak with Phil.

- Phil gives Tommy several stacks of stone. 

- Wilbur says he’ll be “back in the saddle” soon, that he can rebuild. He still doesn’t know how he was revived, but the first thing he saw when he got back was a chest.

- At the shrine, Wilbur opens the chest and reads the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book Quackity left for him. His old rival, his kinsman. 

Wilbur: “Chat, power isn’t won through diplomacy. Power isn’t won through waiting, patiently, floating courthouses in the sky, blah blah blah...it’s won through blades. Swords. Iron...”

“And I was right all along.”

- Tommy leaves Phil and Ranboo for a bit and they continue to talk about Wilbur, whether he’s changed, whether he’s even telling the truth about the afterlife and if even Dream can change.

- When Ranboo mentions that he may have to keep some secrets, Phil asks about the experiments. Ranboo reiterates that they’re just to build resistance, like when a wound heals over stronger. He assures Phil that he’ll be careful.

- Ranboo then leaves to go stand in a corner somewhere for a bit. He doesn’t sleep much, and if Phil ever sees him walking around staring at random things, it’s nothing to worry about

- Tommy goes mining for stone with Mediashare

- Captain Puffy works on the graveyard. She reads the Wiki page for Sally the Salmon and makes some horrible discoveries. She later finds out the Samsung Refrigerator has its own page as well and spends some time learning about the canon family tree.

- She then makes the gravestones and fills out the history books for each of the dead members, including a spot for Ghostbur behind Wilbur’s headstone with his final words.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

"MAKE THE SERVER BETTER. This is what I need to do."

An Analysis on Ranboo's Philosophy and Vision for the Dream SMP

One of the most consistent traits about Ranboo is his inconsistency, especially in his beliefs and choices, all influenced within the moment.

Now I was thinking back to when Ranboo had that explicit desire for a "happy family" when it became clear to us that he and Dream seem to share similar goals and desires for the server. It's been a few months since that stream, and Ranboo's gone through some changes as a character. Through experimentation, he relearns and rediscovers himself, most of it away from us particles. He now has the experience to choose people more discriminatingly, having a gauge on who still believes and/or benefits from his optimism and those who don't.

With a better grasp on his more persuasive and ambitious self, as well as a slightly stronger spine, I am going to attempt to make sense of what Ranboo's opinions most likely must be by now, having been in the server for half a year now.

1. "You have to think for yourself sometimes."

(from Ranboo’s first conversation with Slimecicle, 06/18/2021)

So you know how Ranboo is an anarchist, or at least identifies as such, at least within the context of the Anarchist Syndicate, right?

One of the most significant things we must pay attention to is Ranboo's anarchist tendencies. Based on his general experiences but particularly his conversation with Slime and his initiation to the Syndicate, Ranboo cares heavily about personal autonomy and the right to self-expression and self-preservation. His aversion to factional sides was initially derived from the existing factions he was exposed to being unfair and demanding of its members, as reflected in his experiences in New L'Manburg.

It's upon further inspection that these sympathies constitute his concerns over People. It's why he fights for and sides with People in general, as a concept and principle.

2. "Why can’t I have friends on opposite sides?!"

(from Ranboo’s Pre-Doomsday speech after the Community House confrontation, 01/05/2021)

Something Ranboo also believes in is the idea that everyone is valuable and capable of many things unique to themselves. Therefore, he recognizes and gives (as much as he could muster) care to Peoples' needs, concerns, and beliefs, most especially when he is demanded of it by whoever asks of him. He values loyalty toward friendships and relationships in their base form, as opposed to causes. (Especially relationships made from and because of causes.)

Another reason why Ranboo despises factional sides, especially the ones he was a part of, is that these sides' own beliefs and principles believe themselves to be above the other and vice versa. Ranboo's ability to recognize two (if not more) sides of an argument leads him to value both sides to such an extent that he believes one is not above the other. To him, People—individuals with inherent value and free will—are more than the causes—whose necessity changes over time and can only be a solution to specific, changing problems—they believe in.

3. "When the leader gets corrupted, then...we'll see what happens."

(from Ranboo's monologue after speaking with Ghostbur on the topic of killing Dream, 03/15/2021)

Something of particular fascination is Ranboo's dislike for leaders as a concept, a belief shared only by Technoblade and the rest of the Anarchist Syndicate. For them, and Ranboo, leaders are at the end of the day People. They are infallible and capable of making wrong choices. The very concept of a leader, too, suggests superiority in the ability and the dependence on only the causes of that leader, chosen or not. To them, no one should be above or below anybody. A leader creates that distinction.

An ideal SMP for Ranboo is one without leaders, where one's choices and manner of living, as dictated by their beliefs, is not above one or the other. In comparison, many characters who have expressed their visions of an ideal Dream SMP all have a leader in them!

We have Dream, who wants a server that fits his specific vision and needs and desires, a server that serves him, with his and only his vision of an ideal SMP—one where he has total control over all of the server. A less extreme version of this is held by the de-facto head of the neutral Badlands, BadBoyHalo.

Characters like Quackity, Schlatt, and Jack Manifold all believe in the concept of adherence and obedience to order and law as means to get something done. It also makes sense why these three also have a history of being quite literally Presidents of countries, whether corrupt like Manburg, discarded like Manifoldland, or ambitious like Las Nevadas.

There are also other leaders like Wilbur, Eret, and Tubbo, who have a partiality to order and leadership. The difference with them is that they believe in relative leeway in priority towards the ruled-over people. They believe in an SMP wherein a leader and their people share a mutual obligation towards each other's benefit and progress. Whether a cause that can help should be involved may be of consideration too, because as far as I know, these three mastered each of the 3 facets of the Greek art of persuasion:

Wilbur, in particular, is a heavy advocator of the use of cause in leadership, hence his use of speech to give rise to emotions, aka pathos.

Tubbo leans towards common sense and reason, having a tendency to use logos.

Eret is partial to a more general sense of righteousness, therefore basing many of his actions on the character of the people around him and having a strong focus on their and their subjects' own ethos.

4. "Who am I?" "I am somebody who stops conflict."

(from page 12 of Ranboo's current memory book)

Despite these differing ideas on what is good for the SMP, the one thing everyone has in common is that they all want a server where peace, to their standard and contentment, is achieved.

For Ranboo, this means no Conflict.

Bear in mind that he admits in his pre-Doomsday speech that Conflict can never be truly eradicated, acknowledging that personal conflicts between individual persons are still bound to happen.

Though, as stated in his various monologues in regards to killing Dream (particularly when he was grieving Tommy and after talking with Ghostbur) the Conflict he desires to get rid of is the big, overarching kind.

These are Conflicts that disrupt the happiness of, if not all, significant numbers of People. Conflicts that perpetuate a cycle of unnecessary violence, conflicts that escalate from the pettiest of disputes, conflicts rooted in a refusal of a person/faction/cause to simply coexist with everyone else.

This is Ranboo's major goal in reference to the whole of the server. This is a major motivation for all of his decisions and actions too.

5. “It should be all of us working together.”

(from page 14 of Ranboo’s first memory book)

When Ranboo explicitly repeated wanting "one big happy family," words that came out of Dream's own mouth, he's describing his vision of an ideal Dream SMP. It can be argued that he and Dream have the same goals, right?

Well, obviously, not quite.

Dream and Ranboo have very different visions for the server, the common thing being their determination to get everyone to cooperate with their vision no matter what. We see the vague and ominous actions of Ranboo while Enderwalking, how much bolder and aggressive he can get. He's seemingly more dedicated to this goal that way.

Based on the previous points, Ranboo's vision of a better Dream SMP is one where everyone exists as they are, freely and without division, where no one is above or below the other, and that they can put their dedications to causes aside for care and love for each other. People regardless of skill or situation just living together peacefully! where the Conflict is not big enough to harm but big enough to constitute what it means to be alive! No one's telling the other how to live because they understand and respect each other's choices and differences!

With how he approaches the fulfillment of this ideal, I dare say he does indeed fight for something, and it's the cause of all causes.

But what about those other people who aren't so compromising? Well, I wager those are the people Ranboo ought to snap against. Ranboo's ideal SMP is rooted in coexistence, therefore it demands compromise and tolerance. Funny just how many people on the server fight for causes that refuse to give that.

Ranboo definitely knows he can't achieve the server he wants alone, and knowing everyone else, he knows getting everyone to get along will be much harder in execution.

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp analysis #dream smp character analysis #ranboo #long post

[stufftippywrote]

infinities within infinities

"Don't get me wrong," Xie Lian says, "I'm really grateful for the donation, but I don't think it's right to name the library after me."

But the man in the three-piece suit seems insistent. "You're a groundbreaking force in the world of philosophy," he says ardently. "I've read your Man, Thrice Ascended at least ten times. What you have to say about the concept of self as the infinite is revolutionary." He grins. The leather of the eyepatch over his right eye gleams in the sunlight. "The least you deserve is to have libraries named after you."

Xie Lian looks him over. This Hua Cheng is known as a reclusive billionaire, but there’s nothing withdrawn about him now, as he surveys Xie Lian with a bright eye. Instead, he’s almost preternaturally relaxed, hands in his pockets, smiling as bright as if he’d captured the sun. Despite the money and the insistent words, there’s nothing intimidating about him.. Xie Lian rather likes him.

“Well, thank you, I suppose, Mr. Hua,” he says carefully. He still isn’t sure about the Xie Philosophy Library concept. He looks up at the building and tries to imagine his name on the placard; it just seems preposterous. The dreams of a very young graduate student who thought he could change the whole nature of philosophy. Now, a fool’s wish. That it would be granted so suddenly, and by the young man in front of him who can’t be out of his twenties? Unimaginable.

“No need to thank me,” Hua Cheng says, shaking his head. “The very least I could do. Do you need a ride anywhere, Professor?”

**

Hua Cheng’s car might as well be a spaceship for how much it sticks out among the dumpy minivans and compact cars that surround it in the parking lot. Black, sleek, and gleaming, it truly seems to have beamed here from some point in a glittering future. Hua Cheng unlocks it with the touch of a button, and then, with another, the passenger side door swings open of its own volition. Xie Lian peeks inside. The interior is black as well, but for some touches that stand out in burning crimson.

“Go on, Professor.” Hua Cheng is leaning on his side of the car, casting a sideways glance at him. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Xie Lian obeys, ducking his head to get in. “You really needn’t call me Professor,” he says as Hua Cheng joins him on the driver’s side.

“What should I call you, then?” Hua Cheng’s smile is devastatingly brilliant, and Xie Lian is glad he’s sitting, because his knees have just gone to jelly. “I could call you gege, if it’s not too informal.”

He’s teasing -- at least, Xie Lian thinks he’s teasing -- but honestly the word comes out of his mouth more naturally than professor, and Xie Lian likes the sound of it better. “Gege is fine,” he says lightly.

“But in return,” Hua Cheng says, starting up the car, “you have to call me San Lang.”

“Why?” There’s something buzzing in Xie Lian’s brain now about the concept of naming, what we call ourselves versus what others call us, but he shunts it aside.

“Why do you think?” The car pulls out of its space, and a low rumble echoes in Xie Lian’s gut as it starts to navigate the parking lot. Hua Cheng is glancing at him between peeks in the rearview mirror. “You know what they say about us billionaires, we’re eccentric. Humor me.”

“Very well, San Lang,” Xie Lian replies, and he likes the sound of that, too.

It’s ten minutes of buzzing around the downtown streets before Xie Lian realizes he never gave a destination. “San Lang,” he says carefully, “where are we going?”

“Here and there,” Hua Cheng says. “I want to pick your brain about Man, Thrice Ascended.”

“Oh.” Xie Lian is flattered, and honestly the concept of riding around aimlessly in this sleek machine appeals to him. “Go right ahead, then.”

“To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng says, “I have trouble wrapping my head around the concept of the self as infinite. Unless you believe in a higher power, the concept of self seems painfully finite to me, as it only exists between birth and death. Isn’t that a pretty limited span?”

“Only temporally,” Xie Lian replies. “Did you know that there are 22 million seconds in the average lifetime?”

“22 million is a lot, but it’s not infinity,” Hua Cheng counters.

“Ah, but a second isn’t instantaneous. Seconds take time. If you’ve ever tried to hold a plank for more than a minute, you know that well.” And he really does look like the type who could hold it. If not for two. “The unit of time I’d rather use is the moment.”

Hua Cheng glances at him. The car pulls onto the highway. “The moment?” he asks, gently spurring Xie Lian forward.

“Exactly,” Xie Lian says. “The moment is instantaneous. Maybe there are hundreds of millions of moments in the span of a single second of time. Maybe more than that. We can conceptualize, then, that each second of a lifetime contains within it infinite moments, and each lifetime 22 million infinities.”

“But a moment is hardly an appreciable measure of time,” Hua Cheng says. “How many moments can we experience as moments with our limited consciousness? The moments experienced are still finite to the mind of the human who tries to count them. Even if you count as fast as you can, you can’t count to 100 within the space of a single second, much less infinity.”

“You’re asking good questions,” Xie Lian comments.

Hua Cheng glows a little. “I told you, I’ve read the book a thousand times.”

“Well, if you did read the book, then you know that our concept of moments here is merely a framework.” They’re driving along the coast now, the bay blue and the sun starting its daily fizzle from yellow to red. “The infinities that truly populate the self are not of time, but of possibility.”

“Infinite choice in each moment.” Hua Cheng nods. “Explain it to me one more time, please, won’t you, gege?”

There’s a little plaintive moan in his voice - just a sliver of an entreaty - and it gives Xie Lian the goosebumps. Here is someone who’s truly appreciating his work, and he’s pleasant to look at and his voice is pleasant to the ear, and Xie Lian is reeling with how much good sensation is rolling into him with every second of this drive. It’s like the best of good dreams, and he doesn’t want to think of it ending.

“In any moment -- and I do mean moment, with our earlier definition,” he says, “I could lean to the left. I could lean to the right. I could blink. I could lean to the left but just a little bit harder. I could think of the color red. I could think of the color blue. I could speak. I could stay silent. I could open the door and throw myself out of this car, if I wanted.”

“Please don’t,” Hua Cheng interjects, sounding a little unnerved.

“It’s just a possibility,” Xie Lian reminds him. “There are, essentially, an infinite number of things I could do with each moment of my life. Each of them takes some time, but the process of choosing is instantaneous. So you have infinite possibilities in every single moment of infinite moments.”

“Not infinite possibilities," counters Hua Cheng. "What you decide to do in one moment, as you said, takes time. The time it takes to perform that action necessarily negates the infinite nature of the next moment. You can’t make certain decisions while performing other actions.”

“Your possibilities are still infinite in each moment,” Xie Lian argues. “Just because some actions can’t be taken doesn’t mean there aren’t still infinite possibilities open to you. Think of numbers. An infinite number of numbers end in the digit 4. It’s still an infinite set, even though numbers that end in the digit 5 aren’t included.”

Hua Cheng frowns. “Perhaps my limited mind isn’t fully able to capture it,” he says after a time. “You’re very impressive, gege.”

Heat blooms in Xie Lian’s cheeks. “Thus,” he says, “we have the three ascensions. When the mind is able to grasp the concept of infinity within limited time, it ascends once. The second ascension comes when one accepts that infinite actions can be performed within that limited time. And the third ascension…”

“...is when the mind grasps that the possibilities are infinite for each of an infinite number of moments,” Hua Cheng fills in. “Infinities within infinities, all within the self.”

They’ve pulled off to a scenic outlook point on the bay. Hua Cheng eases the car into one of three parking spots and turns off the engine. He turns to Xie Lian. “Gege always explains it so well,” he says brightly. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Xie Lian can feel the flush creeping into his cheeks. He looks away. “You’re welcome.”

Another beep, and the car’s doors are opening again. Hua Cheng gets up, rounds the car to Xie Lian’s side, and holds out his hand.

They stand for a time side by side, watching the reddening sun dip its toes into the rippling water of the bay. There’s a strange peace to standing here, Xie Lian thinks, with this person he barely knows but is so ardent about his work. I’m safe. I’m appreciated. The sureness of that is unexpected but so, so welcome. Xie Lian thinks back, trying to remember the last time he felt that way. He can’t recall.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs. Cars thunder past on the road behind them.

“This is one of my favorite spots,” Hua Cheng says. “I’m always taken by the vastness of the ocean here. It seems so full.” He gestures down to where the water buffets the base of the cliffs below them. “Like it’s a moment from overflowing.”

Xie Lian ponders this. “I’ve never thought of the ocean as full or not,” he says. “The implication being that no more water can be added; that it’s complete as is, existing within its bounds.”

“It’s a philosophical puzzle, isn’t it?” says Hua Cheng lightly. “Of course, climate change is solving it as we speak. Rising sea levels and all. It seems the ocean has the potential to be boundless, even as we denote lines between sea and shore.”

“And the question then becomes, how accurately can we draw those lines? And is it human folly to even attempt to do so?”

“Of course,” Hua Cheng says, “none of these problems has practical application.”

Xie Lian laughs. “Most of philosophy has no practical application. That’s why it’s philosophy.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hua Cheng replies. “Your philosophy has had effects on my psychology, at the very least. To think of myself as infinite has changed the way I look at the world.”

“And how does it look?” Xie Lian inquires, tilting his head.

Hua Cheng gazes at him, then turns back to face the sea. “Boundless,” he says.

Xie Lian nods. The wind whips past them, whispering coldly against his cheeks and ears. He shudders.

Without a word, Hua Cheng removes his long coat and drapes it over Xie Lian’s shoulders. The coat is warm with his body heat, and all that heat seeps into Xie Lian in a rush. He draws in a breath. When Hua Cheng’s fingers touch his neck to adjust the collar, he wants to shiver again, this time not from the cold.

“Gege.” Hua Cheng’s honey-rich, low voice touches his ear like the strains of a cello. “Would you let me take you someplace nice?”

Xie Lian looks out at the darkening bay. He thinks of the view from his office window, the wall of an adjoining brick building. He could go back there, write and read until the early morning hours. Perhaps he would sleep on the cot he’s laid out in there. Staring at the mottled ceiling, contemplating eternity.

Or he could go with Hua Cheng, who is holding out his hand, looking hopeful.

Xie Lian takes it.

They drive for another 10 minutes along the coast, then take an exit into an area filled with green fields. Huge houses dot the landscape -- this is the domain of the super-rich, Xie Lian thinks, because these fields aren’t used for farming. They’re simply green as far as the eye can see, well-manicured, sometimes interrupted by copses of grand old trees with outstretched branches. Some of the houses are surrounded by lush flower gardens. It’s not an area Xie Lian’s ever been too, nor does it seem like the kind of place he would want to live. But it’s fascinating just to see it for the first time.

Hua Cheng pulls down a narrow road, then turns onto another. Xie Lian squints as he makes out something odd on the horizon. Whatever it is, it’s silver, and a cluster of buildings sit low and flat around it. When wide concrete paths start to interrupt the endless greenery, he realizes what he’s looking at.

“I thought,” he says gingerly, “when you said someplace nice, you meant a fancy restaurant.”

“We can go to a restaurant,” Hua Cheng answers airily. He pulls the car into the yard, and they park. Holding Xie Lian’s fingers loosely, he leads him along the paths toward the airfield. The private jet sits on the runway like a horse at the gate, already humming. A movable staircase leads up to the main entrance. A number of people are working around it. One of them sees the pair approaching and offers Hua Cheng a bow.

“How soon can we be ready?” Hua Cheng asks him.

“Twenty minutes,” the man says. “We’ve been prepping since we got your text.”

Xie Lian wonders when Hua Cheng had managed to text them. “This is your plane?” A silly question; Hua Cheng nods easily, as though everyone has a private airfield with a jet ready to go at any moment. “Where are you taking me?”

Hua Cheng meets his gaze with a smile. “Where would you like to go? Tokyo? Hong Kong? Thailand is stunning this time of year.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian starts, his heart pounding. Hua Cheng smiles that much more widely at the sound of the name. “Isn’t this a little…”

“Much?” Hua Cheng finishes for him. “Not at all. Not for gege.” He lays a hand on the small of Xie Lian’s back -- Xie Lian gasps at the touch -- and ushers him forward until they are both standing at the bottom of that staircase, the airplane’s door a wide unblinking eye at the top. Hua Cheng bows and makes a gesture with his hand toward the staircase -- after you.

Xie Lian’s brain rockets into high gear. He has brought nothing with him but his briefcase, and even that is still in the car. No one knows where he is or where he’s going. He’s traveled a little in life -- nothing too far from home -- but this would be a trip like no other, totally unplanned and utterly irresponsible. Every ounce of common sense in his brain is urging him to shake his head politely and back away.

But this man. This fascinating man, who is offering him the world. For every voice inside Xie Lian that says no, there’s a current of pulsing blood in his veins whispering yes, yes.

“I’m not sure,” he begins, tentatively.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, “You speak of self as containing an infinity of possibilities for every moment of life. But the paradox of infinity is that some infinities are larger than others. At this moment, you have more possibilities than ever before. Given those infinite possibilities, at this moment, what will you choose?”

He’s right. The possibilities facing him right now are truly endless. And hidden in Hua Cheng’s words, there is a challenge -- do you dare? And Xie Lian finds, to his surprise, that he does. He not only dares, he wants. To see this through, to learn more about this man, to take a crazy chance. His heart is pounding with the force of his desire. And once, just once in his studious, conservative life, he listens to it.

He smiles at Hua Cheng, lifts one hand to the railing of the staircase, and begins to ascend.

#hualian #hualian fic #hualian au #tgcf #tgcf fic #tgcf au #heaven official's blessing #heaven official's blessing fic #stuff tippy wrote

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Melted Mask

awitchbravestheverge prompt: I don't know if you're still taking prompts but you are a master of hurt/comfort and would sell you my soul for some of that for Janus. Maybe where he's feeling insecure or like he's worn out his welcome post acceptance, or maybe a little touch starved, or both. Preferably with Virgil or Patton as the comforter, but if not thats ok. I just have a never-ending need for fic where people are soft and gentle with the snake boy, and I love everything you write with my whole heart

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: DLAMPR, focus on anxceit and moceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide I don’t mind

Warnings: uhhh sympathetic deceit and remus

Word Count: 4804

 “How many masks of your own face are you currently wearing?”

 “At least four.”

Between the gloves, the cape, and the hat, there’s not an awful lot of Janus that is seen most of the time. Not that he particularly minds. There is a certain benefit that layers upon layers of clothing provides. One, they’re perfect for concealing his cane—the others always look so surprised when he summons it from nowhere. Two, he is Dark Side, thanks to Roman’s fantastic naming system. There is an aesthetic standard that must be met. What was he going to do, show up in some ratted old hoodie?

 Three, well—there is an awful lot to look at. If the others are focused on the clasps at his throat, the shock of the yellow gloves, the logo hidden under the black fabric, they’re not looking at him.

 If they were, they’d see his scales.

 He is the only side with a visible animal trait, after all. The scales cover the left side of his face, down beneath his collar. He doesn’t mind the stares—come on, it’s so easy to catch them off guard, how could he?—but sometimes he does wonder if they’ll ever get used to it.

  To him.

 The scales are a reminder. That he’s different. That he’s not like them. He’s not like the others, he doesn’t look like Thomas, at least not to the extent that they do. Thomas doesn’t have golden scales along the side of his face. Thomas doesn’t have a mouth that curves up along his cheek. Thomas doesn’t have a slit-eye pupil. No, no, Thomas is normal.

 How dreadful.

 Then, of course, there are the lies.

 ‘Deceit.’ Such a funny word. And so…polarizing.

 ‘Deceitful,’ ‘dishonest,’ ‘dastardly’—lot of ‘d’s, here, hmm?—all of the words that just mean he’s a liar. And lying must be bad, right? So it follows logically then, because we simply adore logic in this house, that he must be bad.

 He’s not to be trusted, he’s a liar. He’s not honest, he’s a liar. They have to double and triple-check everything he says because he’s a liar.

 They always conveniently seem to forget that you can always trust a dishonest person to be dishonest. It’s the truthful ones you have to watch out for.

 Janus knows he’s a liar. Frankly, he’s quite proud of it. He’s gotten very good at it too; twisting the words together just right in order to tug slightly at a heartstring there, block off just a little rationality there, get the job done. The others always get caught up in his words, too busy focusing on the minutia of it, the details, leaving him free to step around them and speak to Thomas.

 They see the gloves, they see the scales, they see the lies.

 They see the masks.

 Oh, sometimes he’ll put on a little bit more of a show if he needs to make a point, if the normal masks aren’t quite enough to get Thomas to listen. He’ll tie a hoodie around his shoulders, push a pair of glasses up his nose, knot a tie around his neck. Problem is…those ones are a little easier to see through. No matter how hard he tries, all of his disguises end up being a self-portrait.

 Which is how he ended up here.

 “You know the rules,” Patton says, his hands on his hips, “no impersonating others outside of filming!”

 Janus rolls his eyes and idly flicks a speck of dirt off one of his gloves. “Oh, please. You don’t want me to do it during filming either.”

 “No, I don’t, but we made a compromise, kiddo, now we both have to stick to it.”

 Janus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure the others will be relieved to hear so.”

 “What have we said about impersonations?”

 He sighs. “The others may be idiots—“

 “Oi!”

 “—but idiots are also deserving of respect,” Janus finishes, glancing at Virgil draped over the back of the couch. “And I would never dream of being anything less than perfectly respectful.”

 Virgil snorts. “What do you even get out of it anyway?” He sits up a little straighter. “Wait, you haven’t been tricking Roman into telling you how to impersonate us better, have you?”

 “Now why would I do that?”

 “Janus!”

 “What? Like you don’t make a habit of going to the others for advice.”

 “There’s a difference between openly asking for it and tricking them into giving it to you.”

 Janus levels a stare at him. “I suppose there is, isn’t there?”

 “Hey!” Patton steps between them. “That’s enough.”

 “Oh, well—“ Janus makes a show of resettling his cape—“if you say so.”

 Patton sighs. “Janus, we are trying, okay? You heard Thomas, you’re…well, you’re more welcome now.”

 “And you’re doing a marvelous job of that.”

 Patton doesn’t quite deflate, but it’s close. “Well, maybe we could all try a little harder.” He gives Janus a pointed look.

 “Yes, I’m sure my efforts will be richly rewarded.”

 “Well, you could start by showing up as yourself more often.”

 “Myself?” Janus gasps theatrically, putting a gloved hand to his scales. “Who’s that?”

 “Dude,” Virgil sniggers—Virgil did always appreciate his sense of humor—“how many masks of your own face are you currently wearing”

 “At least four.”

 Patton lets him go with another verbal slap on the wrist and Virgil flips him off. Janus sinks out, striding down the hallway near his room. It’s quieter here. The walls hum a little less. He can think.

 He hadn’t gone to Roman to gets tips on his acting. He’d gone because Roman doesn’t want to talk to Janus.

 Janus, the liar. Janus, the manipulator. Janus, the Dark Side.

 Janus shuts the door of his room and instinctively slumps, the cape hanging off his shoulders. He knows Patton means well, and Virgil’s…Virgil, but sometimes it stings a little more than it should. Not that the others will ever see it.

 He’ll never forget the look on Thomas’s face when Logan said he was the side that acts with the one priority of self-preservation. Of how it instantly demonized the idea of protecting yourself. Of Thomas keeping himself safe.

 He looks at his hands, sees the gloves. They still don’t fit quite right, even after all these years. He can’t get the seams to run down the sides of the fingers, not curve around to the front or the back. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. Especially considering how much use he’s gotten out of them.

 Lying kept Thomas alive. It kept him safe. He helped keep Thomas safe. When Virgil couldn’t breathe, when Logan faltered, when Patton froze, Janus would quietly make his way over to Roman and whisper a suggestion. Just a suggestion. To lie. To keep Thomas safe. To get them out of here. And it saved them. So many times.

 Janus walks over to the mirror. It’s a fairly modest thing; about the size of a small sink, oval, large enough so he can see himself completely if he takes a few steps back. He ignores his own face and reaches for the golden latch on the side. He turns it.

 The cabinet swings open to reveal a dark velvet interior with several small podiums. Each has a thin mask laid atop it. They gleam in the low light of the room. Janus reaches out and carefully makes sure each is perfectly centered. As he does so, his gloves linger on the fine print beneath the podiums.

 Everyone has masks. Versions of themselves to present to the world when they need to. A mask that keeps you safe, a mask that keeps you alive, a mask that has the courage to speak when you don’t. The mask they wear around their homophobic relatives, the mask they wear when they need to make a phone call, the mask they wear when they need to pretend they’re something they’re not.

 Janus is very, very good at making masks.

 He never wears these. These are for Thomas. When Thomas needs help, Janus slips one of these out of the cabinet and sets it on the desk in front of the mirror. He looks at it, then at the mirror, and works. These masks are what helps Thomas.

 He shuts the cabinet with a decisive click, suddenly confronted with his own face.

Janus is so good at making masks that he doesn’t even need a mask to wear one.

 A mask because you’re the bad guy. A mask because you can never be trusted. A mask because when you try to be vulnerable they won’t listen. A mask because they don’t want you, they want the character that you embody to survive.

 He pities the others sometimes. They don’t have these masks and they hurt. They can’t distance themselves, pull away just a little more, embody a role so that when it’s over, when they’re safe again, they can take it off and breathe. But they don’t. So they just get hurt. Over and over and over.

 Janus’s lips involuntarily curl up into a snarl. The hand on the mirror closes into a fist.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. That’s not how this is supposed to work.

 He’s not supposed to hurt them.

 Part of him argues that he has to. If he keeps working the way he’s been working he can get right to Thomas, who is who needs the most protection. If he tries to do it their way they risk Thomas getting hurt and Janus won’t have that.

 Part of him whispers that this is good for them. If he can make them a little tougher, help them get thicker skin, they’ll be safer. And then it won’t matter if they hate him. They’ll be safe. That’s all he cares about.

 The rest of him—

 …well, the rest of him is currently the reason he’s having trouble looking in the mirror right now.

 The problem with wearing so many masks is that it becomes harder and harder to figure what’s the mask and what’s not. And he’s gotten so good at making them that now…now he doesn’t have to think about it.

 A mask for when Logan asks to debate about philosophy. A mask for when Remus wants him to help him and Roman make something new. A mask for when Patton wants to bake. A mask for when Virgil comes to him for help.

 A mask for all of them. A mask for none of them.

 Janus doesn’t want to wear the masks all the time. He wants them to be warm, to care, to smile when he comes into the room, or even ask where he is. He wants to laugh as Patton smears batter all over his nose accidentally. He wants to listen to Logan ramble about some new advancement in quantum gravity. He wants Virgil to come plop down next to him while everyone else is in the living room. He wants Remus to stay with him while they watch the others get into ridiculous fights over board games. He wants Roman to not be afraid to come talk to him.

 He wants.

 Janus is selfish.

 But he isn’t stupid.

 He knows they don’t want him. He knows they don’t want him, even without the masks. Deep down, he knows they don’t need him either.

 But Thomas does.

 So here Janus will stay, in the dark, in the cold, wearing too many masks of his own face to keep count.

—————————————————————

The Mindscape is cold. It never quite feels solid. Drafts blow in and out of the walls, through the little gaps in the floor, from places that Janus can’t find, no matter how many times he looks for them. He bundles himself up in his cloak and his hat and does his best to hold still, sink in as much warmth as he can. He sneaks up behind the others, pressing himself up near them, purring in their ears, just to snatch their body heat. They always shove him away with flustered protests and blushy little faces. They’re so adorable.

 Plus, he knows that’s all he’s ever really going to get from them.

 But he’s cold, goddamnit. Why do they keep the air conditioning so high in this house? Snakes are cold-blooded. They get slow. Lethargic. Hypothermic, if it gets very bad.

 Janus can’t afford to be slow.

 So he wears his gloves, his cape, his hat. He stands opposite the window so he can get the most sunlight. He finds the patches of warmth where none of the others will find him and he can curl up for the warmth he needs...

 …and fine, maybe it’s a little more than just being cold.

 The others are…touchy. Patton throws his arm around just about everyone. Bumps his hip against theirs. Pats their shoulders, squeezes their hands, kisses their cheeks. Roman sweeps people into his arms, pulls them in for hugs, keeps an arm around their waists for as long as he’s allowed. Remus can and will just tackle whoever he wants. Logan holds himself a little further away, but even he’ll lay a comforting hand on someone’s arm. Janus will admit he was shocked when Virgil started exhibiting spider characteristics. That Side is a cat and you will not convince him otherwise. And everyone knows if a cat falls asleep on you, you’re not allowed to move until it wakes up.

 Not that Virgil has fallen asleep on him recently.

 Janus is not too proud to admit that at first, he didn’t want their touches. He had a job to do, he didn’t need to be distracted. But now…now he does.

 He sees the way they move around each other and it stings. The accidental brushes he gets from standing too close or when they aren’t thinking about it sear through layers and layers of clothing to burn into his skin. When he stays close to them—close, but not too close—his whole side begins to tingle, reaching for them, their warmth, for them. But now it’s too late. His mask is already firmly in place and they know Deceit hates being touched.

 That’s another reason for the layers. For the gloves.

 Janus knows that if they ever touch him directly, skin to skin, his mask will shatter. And that is too dangerous to risk. With his gloves, his cape, his hat, his masks, the only way that would happen is if one of them tried to touch his face.

 And that is certainly very likely indeed.

 The clothes give him a barrier. A last line of defense. No touch is better than unexpected touch.

 But that doesn’t stop him from being cold.

 He can tell it’s going to happen when he can’t quite close his fingers around the end of his staff in the middle of their conversation. His gloves don’t catch on the wood quite right and he has to fumble to grab it properly. He glances up. No one’s looking at him.

  Are they ever?

 He tucks his hands smoothly out of sight, frantically burrowing them into his cloak to see if they’ll warm up. He locks his knees. No good. His fingers start to hurt as he flexes them. They’re still not moving faster. It’s cold.

 He glances at the clock. Two minutes. He can last two minutes. Or so he thinks, until his jaw starts to clench. He clenches it harder, ignoring the protest from his neck, his shoulders, trying to make it stop. He takes a deep slow breath and tries to relax, to stop his muscles from tensing. It works, barely.

 One minute.

 His hands aren’t responding properly. He can barely move his fingers. He just needs to get out of here. If he gets out of here he can get warm. He has his electric blanket, he has everything he needs. He just needs to leave.

 Thirty seconds.

 The conversation draws to a close and Janus nods deeply, tossing one last barb over his shoulder as he sinks out, only to collapse in the hallway as soon as he does. A draft flows out right next to his shoulder, freezing fingers dancing up his arm, along the back of his neck, diving into his collar to snatch more of his warmth. He curses, heaves himself to his feet, and makes it to his room. It’s so cold.

 Something tugs in his chest. No, no—!

 “I suppose there must be a good reason for summoning me back,” Janus drawls, snapping his gloves right back into place as he appears in the living room.

 Patton and Virgil stare back at him. Patton fidgets with his hands. “W-well, we, uh, I had a question for you.”

 Damn. “Well.” Janus spreads his arms, trying to play off how slow he’s moving for dramatic effect. “I’m here. Ask away.”

 “I, uh, a few days ago you mentioned that you didn’t feel as welcome here.” Patton looks at him with such an expression of sincerity that it makes Janus’s tongue itch. “And I wanted to know what I could do to help.”

 “Aren’t you sweet?”

 Patton won’t be deterred, it seems. He stares at Janus, resolute as ever. It’s so cold in here he’s going to start slurring in a moment.

 “Janus?”

 “That is my name, yes.”

 “Are you…are you feeling alright?”

 Janus gestures to himself, movements growing slower by the second. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

 Slow. Too slow.

 Patton frowns. He gives him a look. “You don’t seem like you normally are, are you sure?”

 “I am entirely in one piece.”

 “That doesn’t answer my question.”

 “Honey, if you’re looking for a straight answer, I’m afraid you’re looking in the wrong place.”

 Virgil moves. Right, Virgil was here too. Janus is slow. Too slow. He can’t move. He can’t get away. His mask forms a bored expression on his face, quirking an eyebrow. Virgil approaches him and holds out a hand. A cold part of Janus’s chest leaps.

 The lips of the mask part. “And what exactly do you intend to do with that?”

 “This,” Virgil mutters, and cups the side of Janus’s face.

 Everything stops.

 Distantly, he feels Virgil’s hand leave his face. Hears something about being too cold. Sees a blur of blue rush away. But all he can focus on is—

  Warm. Virgil touched you. Warm. Warm. So warm. Keep the mask on. Don’t let the mask slip. Warm. If the mask slips everything will be ruined. Warm. Don’t you remember how to take the mask off? Virgil. Patton. Warm.

 “Janus? Janus!”

 Janus blinks. Virgil is still standing in front of him. There’s a little wrinkle between his brows. The mask is frozen in place, iced into a neutral expression.

 “Hey,” Virgil says quietly, “you’re freezing, bud. You gotta get warm.”

 Janus can’t speak. The mask is so cold.

 “You remember what happens when you get too cold,” Virgil continues, taking a step closer. Janus can’t move. Virgil’s frown deepens and he tilts his head. “What’s going on, Janus, you don’t normally let it get this bad.”

  Yes, Virgil, we’re aware.

 “You could’ve asked, dude,” Virgil says, taking another step closer, a little exasperation mingling with the concern, “any of us.”

 The mask smirks. Barely. “Yes, because I’m sure everyone would be so willing to cuddle me so I could steal their body heat.”

 “You don’t know that.” The mask doesn’t move. Virgil glances over his shoulder. When he speaks next, his voice is lowered to a whisper.

 “You don’t have to keep that on right now, Jan,” he says quietly, “it’s okay. It’s just me. I know you. You can…you know. Emote and stuff.”

 Janus huffs a laugh. It’s weak. 

 “You ever wear a mask so long you forget how to take it off?”

 Vigil pauses. “Huh?”

 “Ever pretended to be something for so long you forget which is real and which isn’t?” Janus’s smile turns sad. “Made yourself believe it too?”

 Virgil’s eyes close for a second. When he opens them, the concern in his gaze takes the last of the warm breath from Janus’s lungs. “Does this have anything to do with…?” He waves in Janus’s direction.

 Janus nods, slowly, so slowly. “I can’t. Because I’ve been…I’ve been trained out of it. I built my masks to hide behind. And now I can’t take them off.”

 “And we haven’t been good about helping you do that, huh.” He sounds so tired. He’s been through so much…

 “I’m…”

 The mask won’t let him apologize.

  Like they would ever accept it.

 “No, no,” Virgil says, “don’t apologize. You aren’t to blame for what you’ve been put through.”

  Oh, Virgil…

 Virgil glances over his shoulder. Then he shakes his head. “Just…look, go.”

 “What?”

 “I know this isn’t the time to talk about stuff. You’re not in any sort of shape to do that and Patton will understand. Go get warm.” He gives Janus a pointed look. “You take care of yourself first, okay?”

 He tries. He goes back to his room and buries himself in blankets, in pillows, in more layers than he can stand. The pressure is good but it’s still so cold. The weight of the electric blanket is nothing compared to the warmth of Virgil’s hand. Everything in here smells sterile, clinical, detached. It’s all so cold.

  You take care of yourself.

 The last sentence rings through his head late at night. He wants. But everyone’s probably asleep by now, and god knows they need to sleep. Surely it’ll be alright if he just goes to the living room? That’s not too far, right?

 There’s a fire going in the fireplace—since when did they have a fireplace? And there’s someone sitting on the couch. Hmm. Maybe if…if he’s quiet, if he doesn’t make too much noise, he can slip in and soak up some of the warmth. 

 Virgil turns around.

 “Hey, Janus,” he murmurs, standing, and comes over to him. “Can’t sleep?”

 Janus shakes his head. It’s warm in here, but he’s still cold. Virgil can see that, apparently.

 “Here,” he says, handing him a cup of tea that appeared out of thin air, “drink. It’ll warm you up.”

 Janus takes it cautiously. Isn’t it Virgil’s? There’s no way Virgil would’ve know Janus was coming…right?

 “This is my third one, figure I should let you catch up first.”

 He gestures to the couch, an encouraging smile on his lips.

 “Sit. C’mon”

 Janus does, sinking into the plush couch and cradling the warm mug in his hands. The couch groans as Virgil sits next to him. He can feel Virgil just out of reach, just there…

 “I like watching the fire,” comes a low voice from next to him as he sips the tea. “Helps me think. Or stop thinking.”

 He keeps talking in that low voice and the warm tea flows through Janus, sapping the cold slowly away from his body.

 Distantly, he feels someone steering him down onto the couch, and heavy arms around him.

 “Or maybe you just need a cuddle. Go to sleep, Janus.”

—————————————————————

 “ — stop twitching, Remus! You’ll make a mistake!”

 “Stop tugging his arm all over the place and then you won’t.”

 “Will you two pipe the fuck down? You’re gonna wake him up.”

 “Says the loudmouth!”

 “Roman, stop it.”

 “Stop moving his arm!”

 What is…? He’s lying on something. It’s warm, really warm. It smells like…coffee, makeup, and…cinnamon? He shifts slightly, and oh he slept on his neck wrong. A low groan escapes his throat.

 His pillow stiffens. “Shit. He’s awake.”

 “Good going, Remus.”

 “You were the one yelling!”

 “Shut the fuck up, both of you.” The chest underneath him vibrates. “Shh, snake-face, go back to sleep. You’re alright. Go back to sleep.”

 Janus shifts again, trying to look around, but he’s held down by another strong arm. A hand cards itself through his hair—where’s his hat? “Shh, be still, buddy, you’re okay. Can’t we get you back to sleep?”

 “What…’s going on?” His tongue feels heavy, swelling up in his mouth.

 “I believe the chances of getting him back to sleep will increase if you tell him what you’re doing.”

 It’s…Logan? He appears, fuzzy but definitely there, over the back of the couch. Janus tries to turn to make it easier to see him but his right arm is pinned and he can’t move—

 “Easy, J, easy, shh, shh, you’re okay, you’re safe, just keep your arm nice and still, okay?” Virgil, it’s Virgil he’s lying on, runs his hand through his hair again. “I’m pretty sure Roman would pitch a fit.”

 “Hah.” Roman snorts from somewhere close to the ground. “If this got ruined, yours would be too.”

 “If you hadn’t insisted on going last,” Remus says, “this wouldn’t’ve been an issue.”

 And then he feels it. Something is drawn sharply across his right wrist.

 “Shh, shh, Janus, breathe, breathe, you’re okay, damnit, Princey, stop! You’re making him freak out!”

 It’s gone, the contact is gone. His arm is still hanging over the edge of the couch but it’s held there by Virgil’s arm and another hand.

 “Hey there, Snakey.” Remus appears over Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re okay. We’re just making sure you’re okay.”

 Roman snorts. “There’s something wrong with how you phrased that.”

 Then suddenly Patton appears out of nowhere and doesn’t surprise him at all. Luckily, or unluckily, Janus is far too exhausted and disoriented to react more than rucking up the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie a little. Patton looks at the couch.

 “There isn’t room, Pop-star,” Virgil says, lazily stretching so his bulk takes up all of it, moving slow enough so Janus isn’t jostled too much. Then Virgil yelps and their lower bodies are lifted and he can feel the couch sag under another body.

 “What the hell, Pat.”

 “Now there’s room.” Patton reaches up and ruffles Virgil’s hair.

 There are so many people and it’s warm but why are they all here? Did he miss something? Does he need to leave?

 “Looks good,” Patton says, interrupting his train of thought, “it’s coming along well.”

 Logan clears his throat. “Would someone like to inform Janus about what exactly ‘this’ is?”

 “Oh, right, sorry, Snakey,” Remus says, crouching back down, “let’s show you.”

 Virgil turns over slowly, lifting his arm and using the leverage to shift Janus onto his chest. “Jeez, Janus, you’re light. Patton, have we been feeding him enough?”

 “I suspect there’s been a lack of communication, kiddo.”

 “Now is not the time to yell at him, Patton,” Logan says quietly.

 “I’m not yelling! But yes, now is not the time.”

 Virgil coaxes his head to one side, and Roman lifts his arm by the back of his hand.

 Janus’s mouth drops open.

 There are little animals drawn on his right arm, from his wrist to his elbow. There’s a navy cat, simple and clean, near the vein. A light blue frog with little glasses. A purple and black spider. A green octopus with large black tentacles. And an unfinished red dragon right near his wrist.

 “If I could finish,” Roman asks softly.

 “Alright, calm down, here.” Remus lowers his arm and holds it steady. Roman puts the brush back to his arm and starts painting again. Virgil and Remus start arguing about something, probably, but he can’t focus on anything besides the soft bristles of the brush on his arm, the rumble of Virgil’s chest, and the warmth of the weight on his legs.

 Logan stands behind his head. “You don’t need to wear a mask here, Janus,” he says softly, “not unless you want to.”

 No one else hears him except for Patton. He gives Janus’s leg a squeeze.

 It’s warm. It’s so warm.

 He wants to watch as Roman paints the dragon but he’s tired but he doesn’t want to sleep yet…not just yet.

 Patton reaches towards his face. His finger lands on his forehead and drags gently down the bridge of his nose.

 What…?

 Oh.

 As he follows his touch, Janus’s eyes drift closed.

 It’s so warm.

 And a warm hand on his cheek wipes the last of the mask away.

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #platonic lamp #lamp #platonic dlampr #dlampr #dlamp #platonic dlamp

[commander-kirschtein]

College!AU headcanons for the 104th

masterlist

Eren Jaeger:

Degree: some sort of humanities subject. I’m torn between history and geography (I can see him only going though because of pressure from his dad/Zeke because they both went so he feels like he has to.)

Would definitely get some tattoos whilst at uni as well as growing his hair out (”haircuts are too expensive for college students.”)

Needs coffee every morning else he feels like death (pulls way too many all nighters to get work done - Mikasa is not happy with this habit.)

Probably wakes up 10 minutes before a lecture and just legs it - he sets alarms but he tells everyone they never go off (he’s lying he presses snooze every time.)

Mikasa Ackerman:

Degree: languages !! Which ones though I’m not sure? I feel like she’s a polyglot so would already be fluent in French and Spanish so would chose to have a degree in one of them alongside something more challenging - maybe Russian or Japanese ??

Would maybe join a creative writing/poetry society, she likes to write in her spare time as a way of expressing her emotions as she finds opening up a bit of a struggle.

Before going to college, she’d take a gap year to do some travelling. Has all of her adventures written down in a diary that she often reads once she starts college.

The queen of houseplants. She has so many, they all have names and she’d never dream of letting any of them die.

Armin Arlert:

Degree: astrophysics or marine biology (I know Armin loves the ocean but he is also a space nerd don’t argue with me) BUT another option could be artificial intelligence ?? He just thinks it’s interesting.

Loves a good group study session. He finds he takes in information better if he talks to people about it and tries to explain concepts (be warned if you ever ask Armin about his subject - you will be there for hours.)

Probably the only person who does all the reading for his subject PLUS the additional reading. He doesn’t even see it as a chore because he likes to know as much as he possibly can !!

Would suggest that everyone in his lectures makes a group chat where they can send notes, thinking that other people will send theirs so he can make sure he got all the info down - nope everyone is just stealing your notes Armin I’m sorry.

Jean Kirstein:

Degree: could definitely see him studying modern history with politics, don’t ask me why I just see it.

Left handed, he knows the struggle of writing something only for it to be smudged seconds later and his hand covered in ink

Will pull out his guitar at any given opportunity. The king of playing wonderwall (it’s a crowd favourite and everyone ends up singing.)

You know Jean is stressed if he’s rubbing/touching his face a lot - and drinking lots of black coffee (he doesn’t like the taste but thinks he’s cool and tough for drinking it.)

Sasha Braus:

Degree: culinary science.

Never has a pen. If you sit next to Sasha in a lecture she will always ask for a pen (a pen which you will never see again I’m sorry - in fairness, you won’t want it back because she’s chewed the ends of it.)

If you have a shared living arrangement with Sasha you have been blessed. She loves to cook !! (Kinda a given with what she’s studying) and is always willing to make dinner for everyone (she will make a mess though so be prepared to do the cleaning up afterwards.)

I can definitely see her joining the choir or even being in a musical theatre production! She’s a great singer, albeit not the best dancer but she has the energy and spirit and that’s what’s important.

Connie Springer:

Degree: something like hospitality and tourism (he’s got such amazing people skills! he would be great at this and has the right energy for it.)

This boy would live on instant noodles if it wasn’t for him sharing a place with sasha. and the most erratic eating schedule (“what do you mean I can’t eat breakfast at 3pm??”)

Has a massive crate of energy drinks from cosco. Goes through said crate way faster than should be humanly possible.

His laptop is covered in stickers (many are random ones he’s collected and slapped on but he got some of Sasha and Jean making stupid faces that he put on there too - Sasha found this hilarious, Jean was not impressed.)

Marco Bodt:

Degree: English language with drama.

Musical !! Theatre !! Society !! This man is a triple threat, but honestly he prefers to be part of the chorus because he doesn’t like the pressure and stress of having a main part.

The best person to have with you on a night out. You’re throwing up? Marco will hold your hair back. You need a lift home? If sober he’ll take you and if he’s been drinking he will get you a taxi and come with to make sure you get back safe. An absolute angel <3

The most likely person to become an RA. He also volunteers to help with many of the events on campus and would probably be part of the student association committee.

Historia Reiss/Christa Lenz:

Degree: she seems like a psychology gal to me. Probably would take psychology as a degree and then would go on for a masters in something more specified like educational psychology.

You know she’s got a stationary set up to die for. highlighters in every colour, all of her notes written in gorgeous handwriting, her desk is super organised !!

You’d never see this girl going to a lecture or seminar in casual clothing - she’s always dressed up even if the rest of the students are in what looks like what they wore to bed the night before.

Likes to take the lead in group projects. Can’t stand missing deadlines so is very organised (has a very cute diary too where she writes important stuff down.)

Ymir:

Degree: sociology or philosophy.

Definitely a last minute assignment writer, will always ask to borrow notes because she didn’t do the reading.

Sells stuff on depop as a way of making money through college. she makes badges and well as some really cool resin earrings (proudly worn by her gf Historia.)

Sits all the way at the back of the lecture hall so she can go on her phone (to message Historia obvs.)

Bertoldt Hoover:

Degree: film studies with English language

I can see him being a techie for the theatre at his uni. he does the lighting and sound for the annual musical !! (trips over cables and bangs his head on lighting bars all the time but still loves doing it.)

Because of his degree, likes to hold film screenings for his friends. In another post I hc that Reiner won’t shut up during movies and Bert is probably the only person who can deal with Reiner’s constant commentary.

Drank for the first time in college and did not enjoy the experience. He’s definitely a puker and has decided instead he will be the big brother friend and make sure everyone gets home safety and will watch the drinks whilst they go dance.

Reiner Braun:

Degree: some sort of engineering (I’m thinking chemical??)

Becomes a bit of a gym rat once getting to college. Also joins a lot of societies because he likes to be sociable and will often drag Bert along too (why can I see these two going to like ping pong club or something. whoever loses has to buy the takeout that night.)

Is going broke because of his daily caramel frappchino from starbucks (all the baristas know him by name.)

Okay but Reiner owning a motorbike ?? Sign me up. He’s the coolest kid on campus.

Annie Leonhardt:

Degree: biochemistry.

Annie isn’t much of a social person and keeps her circle small, but she realises things are going to be pretty boring if all she does is stay in her room, so she ends up joining the girls soccer team.

A very tidy person to live with. will probably tidy up after everyone because she cannot stand the mess - but be warned if this happens all the time she’s not afraid to confront her roommates about it.

If she’s stressed about assignments, her sweet tooth comes out big time. her biggest guilty pleasure is white chocolate and she always has a bar before an exam or a big essay is due.

#attack on titan #aot #snk #attack on titan headcanons #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #sasha braus #connie springer #historia reiss #ymir #bertholdt hoover #reiner braun #annie leonhardt #shingeki no kyojin

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 5

Summary: In which there is no forgiveness or grudges. Only chance. “Okay, let’s try.”

WC: 1.3k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating, pining (so much pining), fluff, slight angst but not from unnecessary trauma, emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic, FINAL PART

I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

“So, what’s the plan?”

Spencer runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure.”

He really isn’t. But that’s because he isn’t thinking.

It’s not often a brilliant mind like Spencer’s, usually if not always running, finds itself in a deep lull. For once, he’s not contemplating his next step or calculating how to get the best possible outcome. He’s not sprinting to be productive.

He’s just… existing.

What a rarity.

In the dark, deserted library time has slowed to a stop. If cheery holiday tunes and the murmur of guests didn't continue to float down the halls, it's almost like you're in your own little time pocket. He imagines this is an alternate reality, one consisting of only the two of you; there's no unsubs to hurt you or tear you apart, rip you away from each other when you’re just within reach. It’s just the two of you, existing together.

Add the catharsis of crying and you warm against his side, it's the perfect sedative. He's completely lethargic.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he wants to stay, all good things come to an end. Your little bubble pops when thunder crackles outside.

You watch him carefully. "Are you... ready to head back?"

Spencer nearly gives himself whiplash, snapping his head to you. You wince, not needing to see his face, hearing the betrayal in his voice. "What? Why would I want to go back?”

“Hey, it’s just a suggestion,” You put your hands up in defense, voice thoughtful as you shrug. “We did come for a reason, and here they are on a silver platter. I know it's not going exactly as you imagined it but—”

“Are you saying I should forgive them?” Forgive comes in a hiss.

You grimace. “What? No, that's not what I was saying. You heard Alexa.”

He glances away, and he knows you catch the slight turn of his head because you’re a profiler and you’re trained. He’s embarrassed; he’d been blindsided, disoriented, by his own rage and confusion that he couldn’t register anything passed ‘sorry’.

Understandable. You’d probably go into shock too if your childhood bullies dropped the retribution bomb over a decade later.

You continue, “Well if you'd been listening, you'd know they want to try to get to know you. Or at least understand you? I kind of get where they're coming from, but I don't think it'll do harm to give them a chance."

After a moment of deliberation, Spencer groans, "How is it between the two of us, you're the voice of reason?"

"Ha ha. Just because you're the genius doesn't make you always right."

"I never said I am!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it. Now come on, let's head back," You stand up and offer your hand. There’s a flash of lightning, and for a second he catches your eyes, steadfast and dancing in the dark. Maybe you didn’t give him an award-winning pep-talk, but the way you look at him makes him feel like he can survive the night at least.

You make him feel strong.

Here you are, in this dusty library. He’s had two break downs since arriving and you didn’t even blink.

You’ve matched him step for step, never faltering.

Another streak flashes from the window, and your lips curl into a shadow of a smile. "Operation: Holidate is a go."

Maybe. Just maybe he can match yours.

Yes. If he can survive tonight, everything will  be fine. It’s the least he can do, making you come all this way. Make your time here worth while.

And who knows? He might actually gain something from all this.

Taking your hand, Spencer gives in and you pull him up. He lets you guide him back to the entrance, your footsteps echoing through the hall as you make your way to the gym, music pounding over the rumbling thunder.

He doesn't let go. If you're bothered you say nothing.

—

"So Holidate? Is that what you're calling this?"

“Okay, you know what, Doctor? I’d like to see you come up with a better name.”

“Well—”

“That doesn’t involve some obscure reference to literature or philosophy or Star Trek.”

“Actually, I was going to suggest-”

“Or Doctor Who.”

“... Holidate it is.”

—

Christmas music fills the gym. The night has turned the elegance of the reunion into a nightclub as people dance with drunken laughter and off-key singing, and as far as you can tell, the group hadn't left the table, shouting over the music and exchanging hesitant looks. They have the decency to stand as you approach.

Spencer clutches your hand and you squeeze it. He squeezes back.

Harper opens her mouth, "Reid—"

"Before you say anything," Spencer clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. "I'm... sorry for what I said before. Not that it didn't need to be said, but I could have worded things better and I shouldn't have lashed out the way I did." Brown eyes harden, distrustful and terrified. "Did you mean what you said before? About making amends and trying to become friends?"

With a collective murmur, they nod, "Yes."

"And you understand I don't have to accept your apology. That I don't have to forgive you?"

"Yes, of course."

Pain flits across Alexa, Harper, and the team's faces, expressions grim. As if they don't like the possibility he won't forgive them but know better than to argue. That he at least has the right. Good.

Spencer's eyes roam over them. And under tinted lights he sees them.  He doesn’t feel like he’s been dropped back in time. He's no longer twelve and they're no longer teenagers. Formal dresses and suits don’t seem as strange on them anymore. His suit doesn't feel like it hangs off him, suddenly fitting, the watch over his sleeve nice and snug around his wrist, and his slacks less baggy.

They're adults; they've learned from their mistakes and are mature enough to own up to them. Mature enough to confront them.

Spencer swallows, takes a breath, before gripping your hand tighter. The storm roars above you, drowned out by With You This Christmas.

"Okay. Let's try."

Strange, the words leaving his lips a weight lifting off their shoulders. There's sighs of relief, and you take your seats at the table.

He feels your hand shift in his. You haven't let go since you dragged him out the library, his safe haven—God, how he misses it already—and his heart sighs as your thumb circles the back of his hand comfortingly.

So what if it's awkward? So what if it's uncomfortable and tense? So what if he wants to make a dash for the nearest exit?

Spencer knows this will be hard, the road to forgiveness. A part of him doesn't even want to try.

But as you meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile, seemingly unbothered by his sweaty palms, Spencer tries to relax. Under your warm gaze every muscle, every part of him wound tight like a spring trap ready to go off seems to release.

You look at him like he can carry the world on his shoulders. If you asked him to, he certainly would try.

And he realizes it won't be so bad because you're here. You are here, you have no intention of leaving, and he has your full support.

Spencer can't think of a better person he'd rather have his back. No matter what happens, it'll be fine, as long as he's by your side.

Even if it’s just for the holidays.

AN: Status: Finished - 5/5. Open ending unlocked.

Yes, I did drop that title.

I remember bopping to I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber and thinking this would be a good song fic for Spencer if he went to his hs reunion. Then this baby came along. Initially, it was supposed to be a one-shot but after 8k i thought it was better as a mini series.

I’m quite proud, leaving the ending open. Whether he forgives them or not is up to yall. 

The fake dating was always a bi-product to the plot! This was supposed to be about confronting his past okay.

Thank you for reading! See you in my next mini series!!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds

[clock-work-crow]

Why Sylive did the right thing

So I'm going to say something that I feel like not enough people are saying. Sylvie did the right thing in creating the multiverse. The entire argument against creating the multiverse is predicated on He Who Remain's claim that there are worse versions of him out there, and he is the best possible solution.

To make this easier, I'm going to refer to variants of He Who Remains, as Kangs, and only use He Who Remains when I'm specifically talking about the person we meant in episode 6. So let's talk about all those Kangs. So the first thing we have to ask is, can there, in fact, be a worse Kang than He Who Remains?

I'd say no. Think about it. He Who Remains destroyed every timeline but one. He literally fed every person who ever lived and ever would live to Alioth millions of times over. It's mass murder on an incredible scale. He argues that without what he did, all of reality would be destroyed. That one surviving reality is better than the destruction of everything.

But as far as we know, none of the Kangs want to destroy all of reality. If one of them did, presumably enough of the others would band together to stop him. We are told they are capable of working together, in the same way, that some Loki's can get along, while others fall into ridiculous circles of betrayal.

So what do the other Kangs want? From the comics, we know Kang the Conqueror wants to rule over the multiverse. Compared to the alternative, that is not so terrible because He Who Remains already does rule over everything, except he's forcing people to live in one reality without choice. In the single Universe created by He Who Remains, there is no free will. No one can do anything that He Who Remains does not allow. If they do, the TVA prunes them, and they get fed to Alioth. That is absolute tyranny. At least in a multiverse ruled by a Kang, people would still be able to make choices.

Also, He Who Remains' timeline is limited. It ends. We see it, and it's a circle that loops back in on itself, and I suspect that's not natural. Yes, it seems fair to assume that eventually, time and the Universe will end, but consider what we hear about the future from the TVA. The Time Keepers are supposedly in the process of writing the future. We know the TVA tells all sorts of lies, but also they are time travelers. Clearly, they can't see the heat death of the Universe (or however else it might end). There's a point in time they can't travel past. Otherwise, they would not need to talk about an unwritten future.

So why does time seem to stop at a point where the Universe seems like it should continue? And when is that point? I think it has to be either when He Who Remains was born or at least sometime early in his life. Why? Well, any Kang born in He Who Remains Universe has to be a variant. This Kang could live his life exactly as He Who Remains did, until the point when He Who Remains discovered the multiverse because there is no multiverse to discover. And if this new Kang figured that out, sooner or later, he would find out about He Who Remains, and then trouble would begin all over again.

So time has to stop at some point. Even if He Who Remains were to actively prune himself before he could discover the lack of a multiverse, he has to make sure that no one else can ever discover it either. That's why there can be a Void at the End of Time. That's why we see the timeline in a loop around the Citadel, and why He Who Remains shows us the multiverse as a series of rings.

So He Who Remains has to stop time at a certain point. He has to destroy the future of the Universe. He isn't just controlling everything; in reality, he also destroys it, but without the opportunity for a new reality to rise up afterward.

But surely the other Kangs are worse, right? I mean, we know one of them is building giant statues of himself. Maybe the other Kangs are more arrogant. Perhaps some of them enjoy being cruel. He Who Remains is kind of endearing in a crazy 'I've been locked in my room for too long' kind of way. I suspect when we do see Kang, he will not be so friendly.

But that doesn't mean the other Kangs are worse. We don't know which Kang began the multiverse war; we only know which one ended it, and he did it in the most bloody way possible. He Who Remains is also very patronizing. He clearly believes that people can't be trusted with free will, but that's because he doesn't trust himself with it.

The cause of the multiverse war is Kang. He is the problem. Some of him can't get along with others of him, and they create a dangerous war over it. I'm sure other people get pulled into this war; that's how wars work, and if you were being invaded by another reality, why wouldn't you fight back?

But wars happen, and they end. He Who Remains believes the only possible end can be his solution or all of reality being destroyed. He believes he is inevitable.

But, you might say, wars hurt people, lots of people across lots of realities will suffer and die. Yes, probably true, but at least those people were allowed to live and exist before they suffered and died. In the Universe of He Who Remains, those people never got a chance to be happy, fall in love, or even live. Is it really better for entire realities not to have existed at all?

If He Who Remains is right, and he will just be born again, and take over everything all over again, then at least Sylvie has bought the multiverse a chance to breathe. Timelines will once again come into existence, people will once again have free will, at least for a while, until it all ends again.

But what about that Kang who builds statues of himself? We don't know much about his timeline yet, but let's assume it's not just the TVA that knows about him. Let's assume he's set himself up as God, and everyone in all of his reality's time and space knows that Kang is the ruler of the Universe, that he decides everyone's fate.

To be fair, that's probably a more boring timeline, but is it a worse one? First of all, Kang effectively is God; he really does determine what people are allowed to do and sends his TVA to erase them. Which actually isn't any different than what He Who Remains is doing; Kang is just upfront about it. If this Kang wants to be worshiped by all of existence. Well, at least there are no religious wars because there are no different religions; there is only Kang.

It comes down to a matter of personal preference at that point. If you live in a deterministic universe, where you have no control over the choices you make and no ability to change your life for the better, are you happier off knowing that or not knowing it?

Personally, I would rather know. I would rather know that my mistakes were not my fault because I just wasn't allowed to do better. I wouldn't have to feel guilty or bad about anything I did because I had no choice in doing any of it.

Other people might prefer not to know. They might prefer the illusion of free will. But whatever you prefer, is one Kang worse than the other? One is more honest but also more arrogant. As I said, the Kang as God-King of the Universe strikes me as more boring because there would not be as much room for art, philosophy, and all kinds of expression as people try to understand the nature of reality.

On the other hand, no ship-wars unless Kang finds them amusing.

Finally, there's the dumb meta reason that Sylvie was right. We know Kang can be stopped. We know there's another solution to the multiverse and that all reality in the MCU isn't going to end because Disney is going to keep making more content. Yeah, Sylvie and Loki and can't know that, but it's a question of whether they believe the Universe deserves the chance to prove itself better than Kang or if enslavement is its only option.

#loki #loki 2021 #loki meta #he who remains #kang #sylvie laufeydottir #loki mcu #loki tv series

[sz-amare]

10. Creating Realistic Characters with Depth

For many people, characters are one of the most influential aspects of an anime. The same goes for me. There are many types of characters: the protagonist, the main cast, side characters, antagonists, villains, etc. Each contributes to the story in their own way. Making flat, bland, or boring characters can make them forgettable, and therefore, can cheapen the quality of the anime. It can also make it painfully difficult to continue watching the series. Here I will give several pointers on what I believe makes an excellent character and give examples from the One Piece-verse.

1.     Flaws

When it comes to creating characters, I have noticed a general rule to make them great and likable. The audience needs to relate to them. The way you do that is by giving your character flaws. When I say flaws, I don’t mean random negatives about their characters, like when a shōnen protagonist can’t solve a simple math problem to save their lives. I mean flaws that can make them feel weak, directly or indirectly.

When I look at Luffy, many flaws end up making him a better character. The most fascinating one to me is Luffy’s childish nature. He is an extremely idealistic kid who dreams more than anyone. He, at first, doesn’t care nor understand the consequences of his actions. Luffy is also kind-hearted and always pushes his principles before his dream. He tends to scream a lot and wears all of his emotions on his face. Luffy is also a terrible liar. If I described this type of personality to anyone, they would undoubtedly think of a child.

This childish behavior is one of Luffy’s characteristics that make him flawed. There are also several times when acting like a child, particularly not thinking of the consequences of his actions, cost him severely. We have the time Luffy almost attacked the Drum Island civilians after they shot Vivi in the arm, meaning Nami wouldn’t get a doctor for her illness. The time Luffy punched the Celestial Dragon, resulting in him almost losing all of his crewmates (although in this case, I think most people would have punched Charlos. He deserved it).

And the most recent one where he attacked Kaido after “killing” his crewmates, which he ended up losing the fight with a single blow and ended up in prison. Luffy makes dumb mistakes. It plays perfectly with his character, but he is ultimately flawed.

Now I personally don’t relate to Luffy in the way that he is childish (I am the maturest), but seeing Luffy suffer from the consequences of his flaws and understanding that Luffy isn’t perfect is enough to understand that he is a human with struggles, similar to myself.

 2.     Personality, Psychology, and Philosophy

I think personality, psychology, and philosophy (PPP) are some of the most significant ways of distinguishing characters and are the source of a particular character’s general fascination. Every person in the real world has their own unique PPP. When you are in the world of anime, not only is everything overly exaggerated, but it is also unrealistic in all sorts of ways. With these two weapons, you can explore all types of themes, topics, and ideas. So when creating characters in an anime, understand that there are no limits to unique characters. Two characters can be very similar, but there should always be something to contrast.

Not only is PPP used to contrast characters, but it can make them feel more realistic if you can manage to connect all three along with their overall character. Let us look back at Luffy. First, we have Luffy’s personality. Luffy constantly yells, loves to mess around and laughs, loves food, is very dumb, is a terrible liar, always shouts out his dreams, loves to imitate his friends, and is a kind-hearted person.

Closely related to his personality, his psychology is that of a child’s perspective. Finally, we have his philosophies. Luffy believes that everyone should chase their own dreams and freedom, no matter how difficult it is to get there. He also believes that dreams should be achieved with the help of close friends. Luffy also believes that everyone is equal, seeing no one below or above anyone else. Once again, these views and ideals are somewhat childish.

Now that we have all the three major pieces of Luffy, we can fully understand his character’s greatness. All three of his PPP are connected with his childish nature. This makes his character seem cohesive, consistent, and more realistic. All of Luffy’s traits align with his character. Everything about Luffy is connected in a way that would make sense, like a real human being.

 3.     Contrasting, Paralleling, and Mirroring

This is one of my favorite techniques in creating characters. You can contrast, parallel, and mirror (CPM) many things in the series: themes, the plot itself, certain philosophies/ideals, characters, the list goes on. This one applies more to side characters, antagonists, and villains than the protagonist, but it can happen.

Now let us think of the antagonists and villains in One Piece that relate to Luffy and his beliefs and somehow align with one of the rules of CPM. Let’s start with my favorite, Charlotte Katakuri. Katakuri is similar to Luffy in terms of his devil fruit. But Katakuri is far superior in every way: his devil fruit is better and awakened, his haki is better, and he has more experience. Here we can see that Katakuri parallels Luffy a bit, but he completely contrasts in his ideologies and motivation.

Next we have Donquixote Doflamingo. Doflamingo believes that he is the ultimate king. He truly believes he is better than everyone, classifying everyone into three basic categories: kings, humans, and lesser beings. But even in this classification, Doflamingo believes he is on top of the kings as well: he thinks he’s a god. Therefore he believes he has the right to toy with the world, as symbolized by him making puppet gestures and physically controlling people, especially because he was mistreated after Doflamingo and his family left Mariejois. Doflamingo’s beliefs all contradict Luffy’s. First off, Luffy believes everyone is equal, no one above and no one below. This contradicts Doflamingo’s god complex. Luffy also believes that everyone should chase their own freedom, which Doflamingo believes he has the right to take away.

We also have Black Beard or Marshal D. Teach. Black Beard mirrors Luffy in a lot of ways when considering their ideologies. Black Beard, like Luffy, believes in the power of dreams and ideals. When we first see Teach, we see him acting like a child, arguing with Luffy about the food and drinks, and Luffy does the same. I think this is Oda showing us that Black Beard is practically and precisely like Luffy. Both of their dreams are to become the Pirate King. The only difference is their approach. As I mentioned earlier, Luffy wants to achieve his dream with the bonds he made with his friends. He doesn’t care if his crewmates are useless or not; a friend is a friend in Luffy’s eyes. On the other hand, Black Beard wouldn’t mind using money to hire strong “allies.” He even hires some of the most dangerous prison inmates. Black Beard is also crueler and is willing to do whatever it takes to reach his goal. If you pay attention, you might notice that Black Beard became a Yonko in a flash, simply because he obtained one of the most powerful devil fruits out there. However, we always hear Luffy saying that there are no shortcuts to become the Pirate King. In one perspective, they look almost identical. When you shift that view, you realize how much they contrast from each other.

Finally, we have Akainu. Akainu is the exact opposite of Luffy. Luffy believes in absolute freedom, while Akainu believes in absolute justice and control. Akainu would kill his own when they showed fear or opposed what Akainu believed was “right.” There isn’t much to talk about Akainu, mainly because we haven’t seen much of him. But from what we have seen so far, it is clear that Akainu and Luffy are complete opposites.

All these different villains are excellent and make clear antagonistic forces against the protagonist simply by contrasting some of Luffy’s ideals. But remember, you can also use CPM with themes on other types of characters. Take one of the reoccurring or significant themes in your story and create a character that uses CPM on that theme.

 4.     Connecting Character Ideas to the Story

This is something I love to do when creating my characters. Basically, I grab an interesting theme or an aspect in a character I want to explore and find a way to connect it to my story. There are many cases when I think of a fascinating character, but it wouldn’t make sense if I randomly added them to my story. So I just connect an event that could likely happen in my story to the reason why my character is the way she is.

One time, I was listening to a song, and the interpretation I got out of it was fascinating to me. It had something to do with abuse, insanity, and OCD. I really wanted to add a character that explored the ideas of abuse, insanity, and OCD to my story, and luckily for me, it was pretty easy to add it into my story.

Now my character (let’s call her Miku for now) doesn’t seem out of place because I connected her character into the story by creating a backstory that was plausible in the world I had created. She suddenly became one of my favorite characters I had created.

5.     Consistency

I think one of the most essential things in a lot of characters is that they remain consistent. Of course, you can pull a 180 and make an Eren Yeager, but if you don’t want to change your character that drastically, make sure they are consistent.

 Once you have created your character, make sure you fully understand their flaws and PPP and make sure whatever type of significant actions they take, it perfectly fits their character.

There were many times in the past when I was able to accurately predict Luffy’s actions and words. I thought I was some sort of genius at first, but I realized soon after that many others could do the same. It was when Luffy rejected his grand fleet where Luffy’s consistency became clear. After fully understanding that Luffy wants to become the Pirate King, simply because he wants to chase the ultimate freedom, why would he accept the grand fleet?

He doesn’t want to become anyone important, and he wants everyone there to chase their own freedom. This is consistent with Luffy’s philosophy of freedom and his childish psychology.

In conclusion

Following any of these principles can help to add intrigue and quality to your character. A regular human is complex and deep, no matter who they are. By following these suggestions, you can create characters with the complexity and depth of real human beings. Make your characters like Pinocchio. Make them strive to be a real boy or girl.

#anime #animelove #otaku #animeblogpost #anime tumblr #one piece #anime characters #katakuri #doflamingo #marshall d teach #akainu

[aesterblaster]

The Facility: Chapter One

Ok ok so you know that idea I had about a horror version of blue lock? If you don't then here is where I first put the idea, its second to last on the list. There are going to be some changes from cannon/twists since this is an au but yeah enjoy!

Summary: Isagi and 299 other kids enter blue lock expecting a soccer camp. But the elimination process is more gruesome than they bargained for.

TWs: Blood and injury mention, general horror also an animal attack

Isagi watched with wide eyes as the man on stage finished his speech. "There will be an intense elimination. But the last 30 standing will get a chance to progress and show what they have. That's all for the details. You can leave if you like, but as soon as you go through that door you are unlocking the chance to be the best striker in the world!"

The others around Isagi buzzed with excitement, what could he say. This Ego guy had a way with words. He had never heard of this philosophy, leaving your teammates behind and scoring your own goals? It was crazy! So crazy it just might work. Suddenly a hand raised.

"Hey! Sorry, but I can't agree with what you just said."

It was Kira, the only one here Isagi knew. The other teens stepped back from him as if his bravery was contagious. Ego's eyes narrowed as the star player began attacking the facility. A few people agreed with him. Nodding and shouting out their concerns. Ego only scratched his head, "I see, all of you are really fucked in the head. Then leave."

His harsh words and critiques quickly whipped all the naysayers into shape. But Kira still looked doubtful. The doors whirred open and all 300 kids ran through, including Isagi. What choice did they really have?

If only they knew what was waiting for them, maybe they wouldn't have been so eager.

. . . . 35 minutes later . . . .

Isagi walked through the hall, examining his new uniform. It was sleek but there were a lot of pockets and a chain like wrist band with a red dot. A tracker? Before he could think about it Kira poked his head out a "Team Z" door and waved to him. "Hey there! You're in the same room as me."

"Oh cool." At least there was a familiar face. Isagi scanned the other kids sitting around the room. It was surprisingly dark and there was one big screen on the wall that lit up with the Blue Lock logo after he closed the door. He'd be lying if he said there wasn't a pang of disappointment in his chest at the fact he couldn't socialize before it started. Get to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses.

"Hello everyone. The people around you right now are your team and will be your team for the foreseeable future. This first part is about survival." That wasn't Ego's voice. A shiver went down Isagi's spine. It sounded like a robot and the screen showed no face, only the logo. "Whoever gets injured will not see the next phase."

"What's going on!? I thought we'd be playing soccer, not fucking around playing caveman!" one boy with short hair and eyeliner said, a vein bulging in his forehead. The voice carried on, if it heard him it made no sign.

"Yeah I want to go back home!"

"This is weird, but I think we should listen. Maybe we can get a grip on what's happening.." a player with spiky orange hair muttered. At least there was someone who was being reasonable. Isagi sighed with relief.

"Step one of this phase is water. There is a map in one of the pockets of your suits. Marked in blue are the places with water and marked in black are the places with buckets for the water. The lights will come on after this message is over and you will have to store away as much of it as you can. You never know when the tap will shut off."

There was a sickening laugh from the robotic voice. "If you haven't guessed it already, this isn't Ego or his little assistant. Please only refer to me as Quill. The only way to escape is major injury since the fences and exit doors are wired with electrocution. Showers will happen every other day, but you are not allowed to bring any buckets with you or fight. The discussion on food will happen later. The doors will only be locked when it's time to sleep and trust me you'll need it."

"Good luck."

"What the fuck." Isagi whispered. The lights turned on.

A boy with blue hair already had his map out and spread on the floor. Most of the others were still in shock. "There are buckets near us, someone should go get those."

"Are you seriously going through with this?" Kira shouted. "This is hacked! We have to find some way out. Not play some little death game."

"Do you have any better ideas? He said he'd turn off the water soon right? Oh great Buddha have mercy!" someone whimpered.

"Come on, this is a high tech place." the blue haired one continued. "They'll fix the hacker soon enough and everything will be back to normal. For now let's just go along and not get hurt."

"And introduce ourselves? He said we're going to be together for the foreseeable future right?" it was the guy with spiky hair again.

"Yeah." Isagi spoke up. "Let's do that, it'll help with our nerves."

"Well, I'm going to go get water." someone with long red hair stood up and opened the door. Walking out without another word. The group went around and introduced themselves when he came back with three buckets full. The only one who didn't talk was someone who was asleep on the floor. More of the group went out and soon the corner of the dim room was crowded with buckets of fresh water

"We have water right? We should be stable for now." Iemon reasoned slumping against the wall. "Anyone have any games to pass the time?"

. . . . 22 minutes later . . . .

The more the boys talked with each other the more they relaxed. The guy who was asleep eventually woke up and introduced himself as Bachira. "I heard the whole thing, don't worry." he said with a nervous laugh as he twisted some of his hair around his finger.

The games continued, but there was this nagging sense that disaster would strike any moment. And it did. "You mean there's no fucking water left?" a voice outside Team Z's door boomed. Everyone froze as it got quiet again. Whoever was speaking had others with him because now there were talking in whispers. In deep discussion about what to do probably.

"Maybe we should barricade the door." Naruhaya said quietly.

"Hell no, we should go out there and help them!" Kira, ever the hero, argued.

"Agreed. We have more than enough for us." Kunigami added. No one else spoke up. Isagi wanted too, but it was best to stay put in this situation right? And Kunigami and Kira could handle any negotiations just fine. He'd only be dead weight in that situation.

"What is wrong with you? I can't believe you don't think they deserve help too." Kira adressed the whole room but it felt as if he was staring at Isagi.

"No it's not that it-" Gagumaru couldn't finish before both him and Kunigami left. The whole room waited for them to come back. The silence combined with the terrible lighting covered the room like a thick blanket. There was a scream and some muffled shouting. Was that a dog barking? Ten minutes went by. Kuon convinced everyone to stay put.

"There could be a hundred people out there for all we know! Think logically, those screams could be someone else!" He was right, and the unknown was terrifying. But a pit of guilt still sat in everyone's stomach. Two minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirt-

Kunigami opened the door and closed it abruptly, Kiras arm was hoisted over his shoulders and he was groaning in pain. "What happened out there?" Isagi asked tentatively.

"There are other people out there. They look terrible. I think they've been here for weeks. I'll explain more in a second just, get Kira some rest, something. He's badly hurt."

The boys rushed to make a pillow out of the maps in their suits. Kira was laid down gently and quickly passed out. "I have a flashlight in my suit." Imamura said. He took it out and shined the beam on Kira. The arm of his suit was ripped off and his skin had three bite marks that broke the skin.

There was that thick, thick blanket of silence again. Chigiri threw up.

"What the fuck did that!?" Raichi whispered. "What happened?"

"We found a couple of people close to our door who had no water. We started to talk to them and they introduced themselves as Okawa and Niko. Then we heard that fucking voice again, the Quill guy. I dunno how he saw we were in the hallway but he said we weren't supposed to meet each other yet." There was a pause.

"Then he sicked a dog on us, it came bowling through the hallways like it's tail was on fire. Those two ran away but Kira thought it was a hologram or something. It wasn't." He stopped there. There was a mass gasp and cry of shock

"You're telling me Quill has bodyguard dogs?" Bachira asked.

"I guess we shouldn't get on his bad side. That's all. We'll be fine."

"Kira isn't! He's fucking bleeding out what are we gonna do?"

"Maybe he wouldn't be if you didn't go out there? Huh? We could be playing charades right now!"

Igaguri started praying. An argument broke out. Isagi wish he could see who was fighting but they flashed in and out of view. Where was that flashlight anyway? It was a mess.

"Everyone shut the fuck up! Kira is dead!" It was Kuon who spoke up. "I checked his pulse. He's dead. Shock and blood loss I think." Whatever fight was happening stopped as Isagi felt tears well up in his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Everything was moving too fast. Just an hour ago, just an hour ago he had just won the local tournament. And yet here he was, his arm a mangled mess of blood and tattered mesh.

The screen turned on again.

end of chapter one

#blue lock fanfic #my writing #bllk #blue lock #hurygf87tu9fjhyguf #blue lock manga

[jeannereames]

Writing Advice, Part the Second

I’ve had several questions about aspects of writing, some directly related to historicals, some more general about writing women. So this is the second of a series of posts that address these questions. Because they spanned three different anonymous asks, some with several queries, I’ll address them without necessarily quoting the asks, at least in full.

Part I 

Practicing the Art of Getting it Right

2. Do you have any "red flags" while reading historical novels (even if it's not a historical period you are an expert on) that make you question if you should put that book down?

Two red flags: If the characters act in overly modernized ways (and it’s not satire), or if the world-building seems shallow. But especially the first comes with caveats.

As I argued in my previous (first) post on the topic of historical fiction, novels are not history books. Novels mean to engage the modern reader, and therefore can’t help but reflect present realities. Authors must make certain adjustments for the sake of the reader.

For instance, virtually nobody would have wanted me to write conversations in Dancing with the Lion the way ancient Macedonians and Greeks talked. You’d laugh your heads off…and feel little connection to them, except (maybe) the few of you who regularly read the ancient sources and are used to that stuff. But that’s a small fraction of potential readership.

We want to interest people in the past, excite them—not alienate them.

So it’s inevitable that authors will modernize some things in order to bring along modern readers. (We’ll talk more about this in relation to characters and their attitudes later.) But how much is TOO much? This goes both ways: how much is too much modernizing, and how much is too much authenticity? What torques off one reader will be ignored, or even appreciated by another. So the author must make a decision about what she thinks she can get away with—in both directions. It’s also important to have a reason for choices.

Take my decision to use all Greek names. I did that as a way to dump the baggage that readers might bring, especially concerning Olympias. But I also realized that it affected only a handful of names, and they weren’t that confusing: Alexandros for Alexander, or Philippos for Philip. Aristoteles and Ptolemaios were probably the most different. The vast bulk of readers took it in stride, not commenting one way or the other. A few liked it in reviews, a few complained. I reckon I broke even and achieved my goal.

But I do want to emphasize the difference between deliberate choices and just not bothering to check things.

One could write a really bang-up story in terms of characterization and theme, but a mediocre historical. Personally, I found that to be the problem with Annabel Lyon’s The Golden Mean. The novel had some really lyrical language (then some, um, deliberately not lyrical), and as lit fic, got a lot of critical acclaim…but I wouldn’t call it a particularly good historical.

I had some issues with her characterization choices: Aristotle is bipolar and Alexander a little psychopath in the making. Yet the more one knows about an historical figure, the less likely it is that an author’s vision will match one’s own. For instance, Nick Nicastro’s version of Alexander in Ashes of Empire is not mine, but he did his homework better, and as an historical, scored higher. That can sometimes be a difficult line to walk: to recognize something as relatively well done, even if it doen’t align with one’s own vision. In short, you don’t have to personally like something to recognize it as good.

In Lyon’s case, and despite the fact she does know philosophy (I believe she has a degree in it), the historical aspects of her novel broke down in a way Nicastro’s didn’t. The setting was either vague/generic or wrong/out-of-date. I got no sense that she’d ever set foot in Pella, Mieza, or even Greece before she wrote the book. Her description of Pella as such a backwater hardly matches what we see in the archaeology. Granted, the excavated city is largely Hellenistic and later Roman, but late Classical material unearthed warns that although smaller, Alexander’s Pella was far from parochial. And grave goods from Archontiko just to the NW, belonging to the Archaic Era are stunning in both quality and wealth of gold.

So the novel had what I’d describe as a poor sense of setting, a somewhat better sense of social history (more for Greece than Macedonia), but too heavy a reliance on texts. She no doubt read everything Aristotle wrote (still extant), and what was written about him. But that doesn’t build his world for me. The best historical fiction authors visit museums and sites. As a reader, I want to know how things look, smell, sound, and feel. Take me there. Consulting the ancient texts and a few history books won’t do the trick.*

World-building is crucial to certain genres, namely historicals, science-fiction, and fantasy. While ALL fiction is world-building, the further the author takes the reader out of the familiar, the more complete the author must be in describing where we are now.

Rather than address world-building generally, I’ll Point You to a series of entries by my friend and fellow author, Kate Elliott, who writes both fantasy and science fiction. She’s been doing this longer than me and has oodles of books published.

Here, let’s consider what constitutes world-building in historicals. There are three chief things to keep track of. The best historical novelists will juggle all three and do it elegantly, without showing their notecards on every page.**

1)    Understanding how people in that world thought about life, the universe, and everything.

2)    Getting people, events, countries, and cultures right, barring deliberate change for narrative purposes.

3)    The Niggling Details

Rather than write one suuuuper-long post tackling all three, I’ll take them in bite-sized chunks across the next few posts (then link those posts back to this one).

Before that, however, I want to talk a little about historicals and subgenres, as these directly impact “red flags.”

We tend to label subgenres as “historical ___,” but that’s deceptive. We have historical mysteries versus historicals with a mystery. Or historical Romance versus historicals with romantic elements. Which of these genres dominates affects how well the historical world-building will be done.

As noted above, historicals need three key elements to be at their best. If one then adds in conventions of another genre, the author bears a bigger burden. But the real problem comes when the author knows the conventions of their genre…but not those of historicals—or doesn’t care.

While all genres have conventions (that’s what makes them a genre), some are more elastic.

So, for instance, the fantasy genre requires something “magical.” Under that very broad umbrella comes anything from paranormal thrillers to epic fantasy to magical realism. Each of those subgenres also have conventions that may (or may not) work well with historicals.

Consider magical realism, which already takes place in this world; it would simply be this world of the past. Similarly, epic fantasy also adapts almost seamlessly to historicals, or can.

If “epic fantasy” tends to bring to mind Tolkienesque medieval Europe, the genre outgrew that decades ago. “Epic” refers to the scope of the story, not setting or magical creatures. Ergo, one could write a phoenix into an historical set in ancient Persia, or the jinn into medieval Islam, or the fey into Early Modern Europe, or dragons into ancient China. Fantasy authors do this all the time. Where it breaks down is when one magical system is imposed on a culture not made for it. That creates a clash of worldviews.

Let’s consider two examples, both from best-selling multi-published fantasy authors in the same age cohort: David Gemmell’s duology Lion of Macedon/Dark Prince (1990/91) and Judith Tarr’s Lord of the Two Lands (1993). Both wrote on Alexander the Great. Because they are polished authors, plot and pacing are never the problem. Where they separate is how they handle magic in their historical context.

Gemmell makes several odd historical choices and, despite putting a bibliography in the back of his novels (!), shows a surface understanding of Greek/Macedonian religion, history, and magical systems. Instead, he imposes tropes from Blue-Boltz fantasy, including a “Chaos Lord” uncomfortably reminiscent of dark-lord cliches. So if Charon does show up, and some other figures from Greek myth, the overall plot is stereotypical Christianized good vs. evil that doesn’t work when assigned to a pre-Christian world.

By contrast, Tarr uses Egyptian magic and worldviews, practiced by an Egyptian character. She also demonstrates knowledge of Greek magic and religious systems. Ergo instead of imposing an alien worldview and plot arc, her plot is built on actual ancient/historical understandings of pharaoh’s supernatural-religious role in maintaining “ma’at,” or balance, in Egypt.

So while Gemmell may have written a perfectly serviceable fantasy duology, one that pleased his hardcore fans, it was poor historical fantasy. Tarr, by contrast, wrote good historical fantasy. We have, of late, seen a lot more of this appropriate use of cultural magical systems in historical fantasy ranging from S. A. Chakraborty Daevabad Trilogy that began with City of Brass to Rebecca Roanhorse’s new Between Earth and Sky series that began with Black Sun to Kate Elliott’s YA Court of Fives. In all cases, magical systems other than medieval Christian European fit their proper historical context. And even if not taking place on earth, the historical homework has been done. Then again, “world building” is an important element in both fantasy and historical fiction, so the better authors of one tend to naturally adapt to the other.***

By contrast, Romance conventions are stricter. If many Romance readers also read other genres, with Romance, they expect certain boxes to be ticked. One of those is a the all-important HEA (happily-ever-after) or at least HFN (happily-for-now). Another is the centrality of the H&H (hero/heroine, hero/hero, heroine/heroine). Too much focus on “other things”—be those other characters, politics, war, or historical events—gets in the way of the central romance and is therefore unacceptable.

Those strict conventions can work at cross-purposes with historicals, especially in world-building.

And this is where I find it most important to learn what else the author has written. If one looks at David Gemmell’s backlist, much is military fantasy and fairly traditional epic. By contrast, the bulk of Judith Tarr’s backlist are other historical fantasies. That tells me Gemmell is a fantasy author, while Tarr is an historicals author.

Do the same with Romance. If the author writes a wide range of Romance novels across multiple genres, then she (or he—a lot of Romance authors are men writing under a pseudonym) will primarily follow the conventions/tropes of Romance, only dabbling in other genres for their flavor of the month. Their novels may satisfy Romance readers, but not readers of those other genres. If, however, the author works primarily in one subgenre, then you’ll likely find more attention to the conventions of the “crossed” genre.

So for instance, Elisabeth Storrs writes historical Romance (Romano-Etruscan), but that’s all she writes, and is the founder of the Historical Novel Society of Australia. Her attention to historical detail is on a par with other historical novelists, and she includes a fair bit of world-building. Her novels are better described as historical novels with romantic elements than historical Romance.

Go on to Part III

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

*Yes, with the internet, it’s possible to write about a place you’ve never been fairly convincingly, thanks to a lot of visual evidence. But it takes extra effort, and there are still things that you cannot get via images.

** What do I mean by “notecards”? The Dreaded Information Dump…i.e., Imma gonna prove I looked shit up by vomiting it all on the page, whether or not you care or it forwards the plot!

***There are also hella lot of trained historians as fantasy authors, even those with full-on PhDs.

#Writing advice #writing life #historical fiction #historical genre fiction #Judith Tarr #David Gemmell #Elisabeth Storrs #Kate Elliott #world-building #red flags in historicals #ancient Greek historical fiction #Alexander the Great #historical fantasy #historical romance #Annabel Lyon #Nick Nicastro #asks #writing advice part the second

[ofmermaidstories]

Spoilers for the latest chapter of Something!

I'm gonna go ahead and apologize now because this is long; please feel free to ignore my wordy ass, I just have a lot of feelings about a certain someone that showed up in the new chapter lol.

I am still trying to get my shit together enough to write a proper review, but I did want to come yell at you for making the grape boy somewhat likeable, like...

Firstly, how??? Secondly, why?????!?!

Lmao, in all seriousness tho, it's nice to see him have a personality that isn't just "Mmmm, tits" *drools* I like to think that everyone in the series grows up and (mostly) out of the worst of their habits, and while Mineta is still a bit of a lecher here he isn't nearly as offensive/creepy as he comes off in show. In fact he's actually sympathetic in a lot way. The bit about seeing his first dead body before "getting laid" hit different like... He tries to play it off like a joke, but dude has to have just as much PTSD as the rest of them, maybe even more given that he wasn't able to fight back in the same way as someone like Bkg or Deku would be able to with their super powerful offensive quirks. They were all just kids, but they had to face hell full on from jump, and let me stop before I get too in my feelings lol.

In a lot of ways, he reminds of you the boys from school — crude. Taking for granted the safety from being in a pack, unchallenged. Leering at posters, saying off-colour things because no one corrects them.

That's exactly the way I view him, just a crude little thing that refuses to be put in his place for long lol. Still, with his being a hero I would hope that he keeps a cap on it while he's on the job--in fact I'm sure he does; if he didn't I'm sure that Aizawa would've yanked his licence by now, the likes of Deku and Kiri wouldn't continue to associate with him, and that's saying nothing of the shit that would get posted to social mead and such. I feel like the only reason he says what he says to the Reader is b/c she's a little gremlin herself and he knows he's got a bit more leeway, yanno?

The little hangout session that they had at the end of the chapter was weirdly heartwarming?? I want a friend(???) that I can be a surly little shit with and draw on and that will call my bf that's not really my bf but should be my bf because he's (that is Mineta) got more emotional intelligence than me lmao. Never thought I'd see the day when the grape would make for such an excellent wingman--tho I gotta wonder what that text he sent to Deku said. Probably something along the lines of "come get yo girl, she must be bored/lonely af because she asked to hang out with me" followed by "are you ever gonna close the deal or not? or have you already hit it??? >:)" just to give the guy an extra push (or maybe he's got a better sense of self-preservation than what I give him credit for, idk lmfaooo...)

Okay, this is WAY too long, I just had to get it out of my system lol. I loved the new chapter lots and I cannot wait to see how things play out in the next one!!

LOL, oh Puck, i adore you sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj

me being a shit-stirrer/asking myself questions i don’t have answers for under the cut

Cat asked me this question earlier today, actually — why Mineta. And honestly? Part of it is the challenge he represents — like, how do you write him into a fic and mature him up so that he’s at the very least, tolerable, but also keep the backbone of his character (which is being a little degenerate). Like, is it possible? One of the most popular tags on ao3 for mineta minoru is something along the lines of “mineta minoru is replaced with shinsou hitoshi” LOL so…….. why didn’t I just use Shinsou? Or Aoyama or Iida, as Cat suggested? And beyond the part of me that delights in giving myself perceived challenges, there were two stark reasons that stuck out to me, when i was first mulling over his inclusion.

1) the fact that he can draw. it’s literally as simple as that. ever since the BNHA exhibition opened up in Japan and it was revealed that there was a scene in there with a class blackboard and the kids having their little drawing competition — and that Mineta was objectively the most skilled — i was like, “i have to include that”. LOL. it’s like you say, Puck, our Reader is a little gremlin herself — i thought if I was going to write a Reader that could handle interacting with him (ie, be in a position to pay him out) it was going to be this one. I think being in the manga industry and starting out on this journey of creating and drawing a Shonen manga sort of put Reader in this unique position of… being in what seems like a boys’ club? So she’d be used to the male gaze within her field. I follow Horikoshi’s assistant (former assistant?) on twitter and let me tell you, that man is not shy about the things that he likes to draw LOL.

the 2) thing was the philosophy i’ve sort of accidentally given myself LOL and that’s the fact that — as a Bakugou stan, if i’m giving grace to a character who was a literal violent bully then………. i can use my magic powers and hand it around to the other characters, too, LOL. and like, i would argue that with Bakugou it’s different, like we’re currently seeing in the manga how he has grown and learnt and is actively changing, which is the key to any kind of redemption. do i think Mineta will ever undergo that in cannon? absolutely not lmao, i see him as being being Hori’s idea of comedic relief, he’s always going to be a horrible little degen. but i want it for him…… if only to justify why the boys of Class-A collectively ignore his bullshit, for the most part? Like, none of them actively call him out on it?? i think of the time he tried to climb the wall to spy on the girls in the onsen — and how it was literally only Iida scolding him and how it took a child to stop him. Or the one when he found the stupid hole into the girl’s changing room and while the boys all looked grossed out….. Jirou’s the one that point an end to that?????? I saw a TikTok (derogatory) suggesting how like, none of the girls of Class-A would trust Aizawa, as adults, because he didn’t do anything to put an end to Mineta’s bullshit, and it was a devastating suggesting. None of us want to believe that our favourites would be passively okay with this kind of behaviour, right?? Which means……. Mineta’s gotta change LMAO. And if Hori isn’t going to do it then imma borrow him and do it myself. Does it work? I have no idea LMAO i can’t judge anymore, my meter is broken. but i’m gonna work with what i’ve given myself and it either will, or it won’t LMAOOOO kldsfjlksdjflkdj fic is about having fun at the end of the day. :’)

But it’s like you point out, Puck — Mineta is also a child, when these kids get trotted out to their first War. And he’s also not as offensively built as the hard-hitters like Deku and Bakugou and Shouto are. Even if it’s not explored in the manga, that War is going to change them all somehow.

So, my gameplan for Mineta was to grab ahold of the tiny things about him — the talent for drawing, the like one [1] observation he has about the wreckage of the war/pro heroes during the war arc, his tears for Bakugou when B wakes up afterwards and how he tells Deku how cool he was and how much he admires him, in the current Bring Deku Home chapters — and try to envision a sleaze bag who learns that the bullshit he pulls won’t be tolerated, even if he’s still ultimately a skeeze LOL. i mean, he’s never going to drop that er…. appreciation for the female form. and i mean, hey, live your best life King, i’ve distinctly noticed a hand-fetish floating around on this site lately so i’m not gonna be like “NO men can’t like ANYTHING”. But the thing with him being a sleaze and open with his leering is like, he’s actively made the girls of his class uncomfortable with that in the past — how do you write it so that he’s not doing that in a position of power with the women he works with (and saves!), as an adult?? Maturity only goes so far. How much can I bank on the war and the subsequent bullshit they’re gonna face from it on…. transforming him??? It shouldn’t be up to the girls he’s learning with to police him, they’re just children. I have a vague gameplan for it — whether or not it works will be one thing; whether i can naturally shove it into the fic is another, LOL. Guess we’ll see. 🧐

SAYING ALL THAT,,,,, i’m actually really glad you liked (???) the ending scene with him because it’s my favourite LMAO lkdjflkdsjflkdjfkldsjf. 😭😭 Reader is by no means perfect, and she and Mineta both need to start treating each other with more respect, but her bullying of him was fun to write and I like imagining a Mineta who considers himself to be close with Deku (whether or not Deku thinks the same is up for debate) going along with it. i could see this version of Mineta being enough of a shit-stirrer to say something like, “gotta lock that shit down” to Deku LMAO kdfjlkdsjflkdsfjdklsfj and then getting left on a skyscraper somewhere…. RIP short King.

#the puckish rogue: adventures and magic 🪄✨🔮 #something just like this - fic #mer-spoils-everything #ofmermaidstories-asks #mermaids talks about 🍇 #puck you are always thoughtful and lovely with your comments and i want you to know how much i appreciate them — but mostly how much #i appreciate you for existing in this world 😭 and how by chance we exist at the same time and like the same things 😭💕🌷

[dawnsrose]

BASIC QUESTIONS

first name?  aurora

surname?  capulet

middle names?  josephine antoinette

nicknames?  briar rose / rose ... i guess heh

date of birth?  february 26th

age?  twenty - five

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

height?  5′6ft / 1.70m

weight?  121lbs / 55kg

build?  slim

hair colour?  very light blonde, golden - like

hair style?  straight and lightly curled at the end, with bangs

eye colour?  violet, kind of a purple-ish blue

eye shape?  almond

glasses or contact lenses?  neither

distinguishing facial features?  the color of her eyes, but also her lips are naturally a really pretty pinkish color

which facial feature is most prominent? i don’t think there is one ?  her face is very well balanced, although i guess her eyes are the most attention - catching part

which bodily feature is most prominent?  her waist, it is quite small!

other distinguishing features?  nope

skin?  fair ,  and her skin do be clear af we love to see it

hands?  small and dainty

make up?  she doesn’t really wear makeup, but she thinks its fascinating! her favorite items are mascara and lipstick

scars?  none

birthmarks?  none

tattoos?  none

physical handicaps?  none

type of clothes?  dresses ,  though she would love to incorporate some pants into her wardrobe .  usually wears neutral / earthy tones ,  unless it’s a special occasion ,  in which she’ll wear either pink or blue .  loves a nice skirt .  think cottagecore outfits !

how do they wear their clothes?  again ,  light and cottagecore outfits .  think of outfits like these: 1 2 3 4 5

what are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc)  aurora takes really good care of her feet ,  so they’re pristine !  she really hates wearing shoes ,  but wears them when she’s in public so as not to seem weird .  she really enjoys the feeling of her feet touching the grass though ,  as it reminds her of home

race / ethnicity?  caucasian

mannerisms?  classy ,  delicate and polite .  very ballerina like ,  except her gestures aren’t as grandiose .  i would say a good example of her demeanor is audrey hepburn ,  or the movements in old / classic barbie movies like nutcracker or swan lake .

are they in good health?  for the most part !  she has a bit of anxiety when surrounded by many people ,  but it’s getting better .

do they have any disabilities?  none

PERSONALITY

what words or phrases do they overuse?  little expressions of surprise like “ goodness! ”  or  “oh!”

do they have a catchphrase? none

are they more optimistic or pessimistic?  optimistic for sure

are they introverted or extroverted?  ambiverted leaning towards introverted 

do they ever put on airs?  not at all !

what bad habits do they have?  sleeping in heheh she may be an early bird ,  but aurora really enjoys sleeping in and napping

what makes them laugh out loud?  philip being a clown. honestly it’s not hard to make aurora laugh, especially over silly things

how do they display affection?  gentle touches, words of affirmation, poetry, tender gazes

mental handicaps?  none

how do they want to be seen by others?  as someone who cares about them and that can be trusted

how do they see themselves?  as someone who still has a lot to live and learn and give, but who appreciates every little thing around her. she sees herself as a good person who is just trying her best

how are they seen by others?  i think people see her as someone kind and full of life. something like the embodiment of hope. maleficent probably sees her as a nuisance though

strongest character trait?  i’d say it’s a tie between how much she believes in goodness and kindness, and how perserverant she is 

weakest character trait?  she dispairs quite easily, but always ends up collecting herself

how competitive are they?  not very !  it’s about the experience ,  not the result 

do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?  it depends on the situation, i think. but more often than not, aurora is capable of thinking things through before reacting --- except for when it comes to her feelings.

how do they react to praise?  lots of blushing and dismissal ,  though she appreciates it always

how do they react to criticism?  lots of self doubting and crying at first, but she’s thankful and appreciative of it all, because she assumes it means the other cares about her improvement and well being 

what is their greatest fear?  being alone

what are their biggest secrets?  that she doesn’t hate maleficent , and wants to meet and talk to her

what is their philosophy of life?  treat others as you wish to be treated and have faith in love

when was the last time they cried?  when she first saw philip in elias

what haunts them?  fear of never meeting her parents

what are their political views?  she knows nothing about politcs, just wants everyone to be treated with respect and equally

what will they stand up for?  prejudice ,  unnecessary rudeness ,  racism ,  homophobia ,  mysogyny ,  literally anything that puts someone in an uncomfortable spot .

who do they quote?  probably her aunts heh

are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?  outdoorsy !

what is their sinful little habit?  she’s very secretive and sneaky about her thoughts ,  and likes finding little loopholes in things

what sense do they most rely on?  touch and hearing

how do they treat people better than them?  with respect ,  would like to learn from them as well

how do they treat people worse than them?  also with respect , tries to find common ground and understand why they are that way 

what quality do they most value in a friend?  kindness and support

what do they consider an overrated virtue?  detachment 

if they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?  how dependent of others she feels .  it’s not her fault of course, but she wishes she had more control of her life .

what is their obsession?  the feeling of being loved 

what are their pet peeves?  loud sounds / people arguing over silly things

what are their idiosyncrasies?  she tends to panic and overthink things at times, which can be bad

FRIENDS & FAMILY

is their family big or small? who does it consist of?  i’d say it’s decent sized / kind of big ,  considering she still considers the good fairies family .  plus ,  philip’s also become part of her family ,  and his family is huge .

what is their perception of family?  any and everyone who is there for you when you need them most and cares for you as you care about them

do they have siblings? older or younger?  none .

describe their best friend.  i don’t think she has one ?  give her a best friend :(  philip can’t be both okay that’s too much.

ideal best friend?  just someone she can be a silly romantic with, who’ll watch movies and read books and sing or dance with her, maybe go on walks / play with animals too ! 

describe their other friends.  most of aurora’s friends are really sweet ,  nice people .  she’s also protective of many of them ,  like dani for example .  there’s others she actually looks up to ,  like penelope for example or emily .  she thinks they’re both absurdly glamorous and beautiful .

describe their acquaintances.

do they have any pets?  not really, but aurora loves animals and gets along with them so well so ...  who knows heheh she had lots of animal companions back home though

who are their natural allies?  the charmont family

who are their surprising allies?  not too sure but thackery binx and i think hercules zevrous would be an ally to her as well!

PAST & FUTURE

what was your character like as a baby? as a child?  not too different from how they are now. aurora was a very lively, happy child! she was also absurdly kind and was full of life, while being naturally graceful and poised. i don’t think she was one to cry a lot either, and was most grateful for everything the good fairies did for her.

did they grow up rich or poor?  while she wasn’t poor, aurora had a fairly modest upbringing, since she did live in a cottage in the glen back home, but nothing lacked for her in terms of essentials and etc.

did they grow up nurtured or neglected?  nurtured by the good fairies! aurora grew up knowing nothing but love.

what is the most offensive thing they ever said?  i legit don’t think aurora has ever offended anyone like that? if she doesn’t have anything good to say she’d rather not say anything at all, and nothing has annoyed to the point of doing so. at least not thus far.

what is their greatest achievement?  i think still being alive lmao

what was their first kiss like?  oh i don’t know yet 👀

what is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?  i legit can’t think of anything other than her argument with the fairies about philip, but she came around soon enough.

what are their ambitions?  to be reunited with her family, to have a big wedding with philip, to understand maleficent’s ideals, to become more independent.

what advice would they give their younger self?  to just believe in herself, and that everything will fall into place. 

what smells remind them of their childhood?  fresh flowers and grass.

what was their childhood ambition?  to find love.

what is their best childhood memory?

what is their worst childhood memory?

did they have an imaginary childhood friend?  nope!  she had a fair amount of animal companions, so there was never any need for imaginary ones. 

when was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?  that brief moment when meeting philip in elias where she thought she would have to ignore him for the rest of her life due to being engaged to someone.

what past act are they most ashamed of?  arguing with her aunts over love and being so sad/crying so much about it.  still, she doesn’t think she could have behaved any other way.

what past act are they most proud of?  i think she’s extremely proud of how she’s been living in elias so far,  not relying on others for help and taking good care of herself.

has anyone ever saved their life?  i think in a way, everyone who’s been involved in keeping her away from maleficent has saved her life.

strongest childhood memory?

LOVE

do they believe in love at first sight?  OH HELL YEAH

are they in a relationship?  yes !  happily married :`)

how do they behave in a relationship?  not much different from how she normally does, but she definitely blushes and sighs a lot more every time she thinks of philip.  also loves to talk about him, please ask her about her man.

when did you character last have sex?  ... never 👀

what sort of sex do they have?  none lmao

has your character ever been in love?  OH YEAH

have they ever had their heart broken?  yes, but it wasn’t his fault.

CONFLICT

how do they respond to a threat?  by keeping composure and trying to reason with the person.

are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?  tongue !

what is your character’s kryptonite?  her loved ones, children and animals.

if your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?  a letter from her aunts, which they gave her before she came to elias.

how do they perceive strangers?  as something she has to be on the lookout for despite nothing they’re not always dangerous.

what do they love to hate?  cold weather. 

what are their phobias?  being alone in a large crowd/surrounded by unfamiliar people, losing her loved ones, being in a completely unfamiliar situation. 

what is their choice of weapon?  words, but i think aurora would secretly love to learn how to use a sword. Let Her Fight.

what living person do they most despise?  i guess the easy answer would be maleficent, but aurora really holds no hatred towards her. if anything, she sympathizes.

have they ever been bullied or teased? no.

where do they go when they’re angry?  wherever there’s lots of flowers and warmth.  or to philip.

who are their enemies and why?  maleficent, and that’s because of her father’s clownery !

WORK, EDUCATION & HOBBIES

what is their current job? n/a.

what do they think about their current job? n/a.

what are some of their past jobs? n/a.

what are their hobbies?  dancing (she’s been learning ballet in elias! ), singing, gardening / caring for her flowers, reading.

educational background?  homeschooled by the good fairies, i’d say she has a good grasp on history, mathematics and a few languages, plus other things she’s learned on her own.

intelligence level? slightly above average.

do they have any specialist training? no.

do they have a natural talent for something?  singing !  she’s very gifted when it comes to music and dancing, but singing is definitely where her talent lies.

do they play a sport? are they any good? nope, and no, but she could be !

what is their socioeconomic status?  despite still leaving a fairly common life in elias, aurora is a princess, so she is extremely wealthy. her family is in charge of her expenses in elias, yet she doesn’t spend a lot.

FAVORITES

what is their favorite animal?  she loves all fauna, but bunnies and birds hold a special place in her arms.

which animal do they dislike the most?  crows. for some reason they give her a bad vibe, though she likes birds.  snakes and dragons also make her shiver.

what place would they most like to visit?  honesty ... her home lmao.

what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?  sunrise !  aurora loves waking up in the morning and watching the sky’s pretty colors.  she also adores sunset.

what is their favorite song?  love dance by sergei perkofiev,  fee des lilas by tchaikovsky, quelqu'un m'a dit by carla bruni, moon river by audrey hepburn.

music, art, reading preferred?  all sorts of music but espeically clasical and old love songs. she loves classic literature, but also mystery and romance novels, and her favorite art movements would be romanticism and renaissance.

what is their favorite color? pink ,  but don’t tell merryweather !

what is their password?  briarrose59

favorite food:  i feel like aurora would absolutely love pasta if she tried it.

what is their favorite work of art?  springtime by pierre-auguste cot

who is their favorite artist? jean-honoré fragonard

what is their favorite day of the week?  wednesday 

POSSESSIONS 

what is in their fridge?  a number of juices, some fruits like watermelon and strawberries, milk, ice cream.

what is on their bedside table?  a lamp,  lavander oil, a difuser , perfume bottle and a novel

what is in their car?  doesn’t have one !

what is in their bin? paper bags, crumbled up paper balls, a couple of candy wrappers 

what is in their purse or wallet?  a credit card, some dollar bills and she always has a coinpurse around, just in case.

what is in their pockets? i think some seeds for birds to eat.

what is their most treasured possession?  a gold necklace with a heart pendant, the letter the good fairies gave her.

SPIRITUALITY

who or what is your character’s guardian angel?  OK LETS GO. i would say the good fairies or thackery are her guardian angels, but if i had to name an actual angel, i think it would be chamuel.

do they believe in the afterlife?  yes, she believes everyone that leaves is going somewhere else.

what are their religious views?  she doesn’t really follow any religion in particular, but believes a lot in karma and in the whole “do no harm but take no s***”, “treat others as you want to be treated” way of life.  she does, however, believe in a higher power.

what do they think heaven is?  a place where there’s no sadness, no pain, no evil. somewhere where there’s nothing but love and joy and people are able to live in eternal bliss.

what do they think hell is?  a place where people who hurt others and lived a selfish life learn from / are punished for their mistakes and hopefully become better. maybe one day they’ll reach heaven.

are they superstitious?  a little ,  but not to the point where it clouds her judgement .

what would they like to be reincarnated as?  a bird or a beautiful flower .

how would they like to die?  peacefully ,  before philip ,  hopefully in her sleep and surrounded by her loved ones 

what is your character’s spirit animal? a swan or dove

what is their zodiac sign?  pisces 

VALUES

what do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?  i think lying/keeping someone in the dark all their life as was done to aurora is something she would never want anyone to go through. that and betrayal. 

what is their view of ‘freedom’?  to be able to follow your dreams without fear or worries, to live the life you want.

when did they last lie?  she doesn’t lie !

what’s their view of lying?  incredibly wrong and hurtful. please don’t lie to her.

when did they last make a promise?  not sure.

did they keep or break their last promise?  she always keeps her promises.

DAILY LIFE

what are their eating habits?  she’s very healthy, eats all her greens and fruits and veggies, but will allow herself to indulge in sweets every other week. aurora grew up healthy, but there’s a lot of delicious food in elias and out in the world, and she would like to try it all !

do they have any allergies?  she’s allergic to a few metals, which results in all of her jewelry being real gold. 

describe their home.  i suck at words so here’s a few pictures that i think fit the vibe of her home !  bedroom / bathroom / random wall / kitchen / corner of living room  

are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?  minimalist !

what do they do first thing on a weekday morning?  shower !

what do they do on a Sunday afternoon?  she usually goes for strolls around town, the library or mama odie’s for a nice snack !

what do they do on a Friday night?  relaxing bubble bath and netflix, no joke

what is the soft drink of choice?  none

what is their alcoholic drink of choice?  she doesn’t usually drink alcohol, but isn’t opposed to a bit of wine

MISCELLANEOUS

what or who would your character dress up as for halloween?  i can definitely see aurora dressing up as titania or a fairy of sorts.

are they comfortable with technology?  it was a bit difficult at first, but now she’s much better at it !  still messes up quite a bit though.

if they could save one person, who would it be?  i think philip, since the fairies probably wouldn’t need her help.

if they could call one person for help, who would it be?  in elias, probably thackery and if not him, philip. however, if she’s panicking, philip will probably come first. 

what is their greatest extravagance?  she has a

what is their greatest regret?  doubting her family’s concern for her even if for just a split second, as well as arguing with the fairies.

what is their perception of redemption?  she thinks everyone deserves a chance at it.

what would they do if they won the lottery?  charity.  everything goes to charity.

what is their favourite fairytale?  steadfast tin soldier.

what fairytale do they hate?  the little match girl, for it just makes her cry a lot.

do they believe in happy endings?  absolutely !

what is their idea of perfect happiness?  to be surrounded by people who love you just as much as you love them.

what would they ask a fortune teller?  if her family and kingdom will be alright , and if maleficent will change for the better.

if your character could travel through time, where would they go?  i think the day of her baptism, just to see what really transpired.

what sport do they excel at?  i feel like she could be very good at tennis, equestrianism and fencing !

what sport do they suck at?  i can’t see her being good at anything that overly relies on strength, as aurora is too graceful and delicate. she legit doesn’t wanna do anything that’s too brutal or something.

if they could have a superpower, what would they choose?  to fly or to properly speak to animals.  maybe shapeshifting / changing her appearance so as to hide with easy could be helpful.

#watask #bOI THIS TOOK SOME TIME but its here :`)

[maddie-kungs-emporium]

My 10 Favorite TTRPGs (2021)

There’s plenty of amazing tabletop games out there, but I have a few favorites that I absolutely love. The most important are presented below, along with a paragraph of explanation of why I like them. If you have a bit of spare cash burning a hole in your pocket, then hit up Drivethrurpg and find yourself a copy! Before we get started though, here’s a few ground rules.  1. No two from the same system (e.g. I can’t put Mummy: the Curse and Mage: the Awakening on the list even though I dearly want to). This is mostly to prevent one system from being overrepresented (Looking at you, PbtA). By the same token I can’t put multiple editions of the same game or anything like that. 2. None of my own games. Obviously there would be bias there, wouldn’t there? 3. I have to have enough experience with the game to properly rate it. This means I have to have read the game and have a keen understanding of it. 

4. This is my personal opinion. No specific criteria are used beyond whether or not I enjoy them.  With that being said, let’s start from 10#. 

10#: Golden Sky Stories (Star Line Publishing)

This game is on the list because it is one of the most avant-garde games out there, which only makes sense from the philosophy it was created from. If you want a simple game about talking Japanese raccoons you can play with children, check this out. Furthermore, the game is possibly the most peaceful and relaxed from a writing standpoint you can get with any piece of media.

9#: Vampire: the Masquerade (White Wolf But It’s Complicated)

This game is the most personally significant to me on the list. It has serious flaws which prevent it from being any higher, but this game literally saved my life during the darkest periods of when I was young, and I mean that. I don’t actually recommend this to the majority of people, at least not unless you’re already interested, but I could not honestly make a list without it.

8#: Deadball (WM Akers)

This may strike some people as an odd choice, given it is barely a TTRPG and completely flies in the face of many basic game design principles. However, not only does Deadball stretch the limits of both TTRPGs and the game of baseball at the same time, but it does so in a way so simple that even a child can pick it up. If you want a little soothing game to play with your friends and family, it’s definitely one to consider.

7#: Qin: the Warring States (Cubicle 7)

This is one of the few games, which, in my opinion, portrays my Chinese culture in a way that is nuanced and respectful while also doing something different with it. Portraying a criminally underused historical period is one thing, but the accuracy with which they do it is another. Easily the best historical game I’ve ever come across, sorry Ars Magica, Würm and Pendragon!

6#: Flying Circus (Newsstand Press)

There is not a universe in existence where I don’t praise Erika Chappell on one of these. While Flying Circus isn’t as personally significant to me as a lot of the other games on here, it’s mechanics, lore and use of PbtA are some of the best I’ve ever read. Please check if out, you would make me very happy doing so.

5#: Adventures in Middle Earth (Cubicle 7)

From the 5E engine specifically, this game is easily the most mechanically solid I’ve ever seen. While there were other competitors, the reason Adventures in Middle Earth is so high up is because of all the things you could do with Middle Earth, with Tolkien’s incredible imagination, this is one of the far superior uses. I cannot recommend this game enough. Sadly, this is out of print, but it is still occasionally available via humble bundles. If you can find a copy and want to see what 5E’s mechanics can do at their creative peak, get it.

4#: Star Trek Adventures (Modiphius)

Not gonna lie, my enjoyment of 2d20 is hit and miss. I thought it was okay for most things, I didn’t like the Dishonored hack very much, and the Dune hack had good ideas but top-heavy execution, but Star Trek Adventures is easily the best use of this system. Doing the world of Star Trek complete justice, this game combines masterful synergy with the 2d20 engine at its best with an understanding of Star Trek that has yet to be beat.

3#: Tales From the Loop/Things From the Flood (Free League)

If I’m being perfectly honest, I like this better than Kids on Bikes. This game captures the feeling of youth as well as the ideas of teen movies incredibly well, and the Year Zero Engine is one of my favorite systems. Without a doubt, Free League is one the best TTRPG publishers in the business.

2#: Shadow of the Demon Lord (Schwalb Entertainment)

Not only is the closest thing to a perfect 5.5E we’ll ever get, but this game is easily the most mechanically solid on this list. It’s difficult to argue that of all the interpretation of the D20 systems you could come up with that Schwalb’s isn’t one of if not the most captivating. The world of Rûl is excellently done as well, especially considering it wasn’t even intended to be more than a default setting, so go check it out.

1#: Promethean: the Created (Onyx Path)

This is easily the best TTRPG in the history of the industry. Not only does it function as an exploration of the human condition worthy of preservation in the MoMA, but it is mechanically solid with amazing lore and an incredibly meaningful message. This game is one of, if not the, most amazing creative endeavors in any media. Honorable mentions go to Hoodoo Blues (Vajra), Ashen Stars (Pelgrane Press), Legend of the Five Rings (FFG), and Dark Heresy 2E (FFG). Thanks for reading.

#ttrpg #top10

[witching-hour]

WINCHESTER WEDNESDAY! – Frat Party [Sam Winchester x Reader]

(A/N): tried out a different way of writing headcanons! what do you guys think? better this time?

SUMMARY: dragging sam to a frat party on halloween

TW: none

[ HALLOWEEN SPECIAL 2020 ]

It was that time of year at Stanford — Spooky Season! When you heard about the annual Halloween party down at one of the frat houses, you knew you wanted to go. Midterms would be coming up and for one night you just wanted to let loose before you would be stuck inside your bedroom surrounded by the same old textbooks that you’ve been dying to toss out the window. And you knew exactly who you were dragging with you: Sam Winchester

You met Sam in your philosophy class and you along with two others had been grouped up for an assignment on ethics. You two hit it off almost immediately with your chemistry. He was your rock, and you couldn’t have asked for a better person to rely on, screw around with, or spend time with

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduced yourself with a hand out towards the tall male with a full head of chocolate locks.

He smiled widely, showing off his perfect set of pearly white teeth. He accepted your extended hand with a shake. “Sam.”

“So, do you have any idea what Descartes is talking about?” You tilted your head towards the textbook opened up on your lap before glancing at the giant projected screen at the front of the class. ‘Cuz if you don’t, we’re all screwed.”

“Uh, I think I’ve got a couple ideas,” he chuckled as he flipped open his own textbook where he had his pages of notes stuffed in between the pages with a capless pen. He shuffled through the highlighted pages and scratchy note taken papers as he explained the argument of the ancient philosopher, while the other members of your group joined you.

He wasn’t much of a partier, but you wanted to have some fun during your college experience, and you didn’t want to go alone. Poor baby didn’t even have a choice in the matter — you just popped the question statement and strolled out of his apartment before he could finish stumbling over his words to form a valid answer

You and Sam were relaxing in his apartment off campus watching an episode of a show that was airing that night. The credits were rolling while the commercial for the show that was on next played next to them. You groaned loudly, turning in your seat as your back cracked satisfyingly, which made the brunette laugh from next to you. You sent a kick to his thigh playfully, then got up from the couch to help him clean up the snacks and beer and gather your things together.

“So,” you began as you rinsed out the alcohol residue from the glass bottles.

“So….” He mimicked, coming up from beside you and leaning on the counter tops with his hands.

Turning the water off, you ripped a piece of paper towel and dried off your hands. Throwing the wet towel in the trashcan, you took your keys out of your pocket, and started making your way to the door. “There’s a Halloween party going down at one of the fraternity’s tomorrow night. I know it’s not your scene -- it’s not mine either, but I’m going. And you’re coming with me. I’ll be here around eight, eight-thirty to pick your ass up. Wear a costume!”

Before Sam knew it, you were already out in the hall with your hand on the doorknob. You squeaked out a quick goodbye as he made protests towards your plan, but you were already gone.

“Crap.”

You picked him up for the party dressed in your costume and ready to let go for the night. He, however, was not wearing one, and instead was dressed in a plaid collared shirt paired with a grey jean jacket. After giving him shit about not wearing a proper costume, you pulled him out of the apartment while he juggled a couple textbooks and other studying materials.

“We’re going to have fun, not study,” you pouted.

“We’ve got midterms coming up, I can’t chance my scholarship.”

“I know,” you dragged out the word in exasperation. “That’s why for one stress-free night we’re going to dance and drink and smoke until we have the worst headaches in the morning. Then we have a month to study before exams and Christmas break.”

“They’re half our semester grade.”

“Party pooper.”

He eventually threw out a suggestion that you guys just go back to his place and watch one of those cheesy horror movies you were a sucker for and review notes and study guides. Sam had never seen such a scary glare before. And that says a lot. Have you met John Winchester?

Arriving at the party, you went off to get drinks while Sam found a comfy spot at a high-rise table with bar stools. You returned to the spot where you left him, with two red solo cups in hand filled with punch that already was giving off the strong scent of liquor. You shoved one of the cups in his face and demanded he drink. He tried to brush you off, but you were persistent. Then a song you really liked started playing and the whole house erupted into cheers as most students rushed to the dance floor.

“Come on, Sam, please?” You begged him, trying to use his own weapon against him – the puppy dog eyes. “It’s my favorite song.”

“You say that about every song.”

“Please?” Begging once more, using the combination of the soft eyes and the bottom lip poking out, you won him over.

Sighing, the male threw his hand up. “Okay, okay, okay. One song, (Y/N). I mean it. One song.”

“Yes!”

It wasn’t one song. It was four.

By the end of the night you were drunk. Sam was lightly buzzed but he was at least able to walk in a straight line. You were stumbling and giggling all over the place. You weren’t coherent most of the time you spoke. When he said it was time to go, you stomped your foot like a child. He didn’t even bother arguing with you. The aspiring lawyer negotiated terms of a giant bag of Halloween candy and a sleepover at his place. You threw in a messy string of words which he loosely translated as a piggyback ride.

He had to fight you for the keys but by the lack of your coordination he was able to snatch them. From the moment he got you in the car, you started dozing off. And by the time he pulled out of the parking spot you were out cold.

Sam carried you up to his apartment, bringing you straight to his bed. He took your shoes and costume accessories off, left a bottle of aspirin and glass of water on the beside table, and the small trashcan he normally kept in the bathroom next to the bed for you.

The jolly green giant crashed on the couch knowing that the payback you were gonna receive from your hangover tomorrow was enough for him.

You weren’t dragging him to another party again.

SPN TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @xx--day-dreamer--xx @akshi8278 @hollymac79

#wghr halloween special #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester headcanons #spn #supernatural #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #spn headcanon #supernatural headcanon #sam winchester imagine #spn imagine #supernatural imagine