#I need to make crafty friends again

[captainrufflebanger]

I feel like an extremely niche portion of tumblr would appreciate the fact I use a ceramic dragon egg I made as a darning egg for socks.

And you know what, it works FANTASTIC

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 3!

happy sunday! hope you all enjoy these wonderful fics <3 if you're looking for more recs, here's another rec list i made this week!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a guide to playing matchmaker for your boyfriend | sammyunhinged/@sammyunhinged | 52.9k | M

When Ravi incidentally finds out that Buck is questioning his sexuality, he offers him support, being the only person in Buck’s life that understands the particular intricacies of realizing you’re bisexual. In the process, Ravi learns that Buck just wants to date a guy, some relationship where he could discover himself and get comfortable in sexuality. Something short-term and casual. Ravi thinks he might be the perfect option. i've been on a ravi kick this past week (started before anirudh's video so like i'm not saying i manifested it but i'm also not not saying that lmao) and this fic was one of the highlights for sure!! wonderful writing and such great characterisation of ravi, but also such fun buddie <3

all my atoms | extasiswings/@extasiswings | 3.9k | T

There are three things every child learns about daemons: Don’t ask questions or talk about another person’s daemon—it’s rude. Don’t put too much distance between yourself and your daemon—it’ll hurt. Under no circumstances should you ever touch someone else’s daemon. Simple. Straightforward. Easy to remember, easier to follow. That’s what Eddie thinks of the rules. buck and eddie's daemons are so lovely and i love how this fic weaves daemons into a canon compliant setting!!

buck buckley hours on the diaz couch | sunlight/@justonebigbee | 5.8k | T

“Did you see me come over the back of the couch earlier?” Eddie asks. It’s such a non-sequitur that it makes Buck laugh a little. “Yes, I did. Very cool, man.” He’s only half-teasing. Eddie could make anything look cool. He just also happens to look silly most of the time too. Like now, for example. Lounging over top of Buck on his couch in this ridiculous get up. “I’ll go get us a snack, and—and, I’m probably going to do it again.” Eddie whispers the second part, like it's a big secret. i love this fic's combination of flirty buddie and non-sexual intimacy and the birthmarks and the couch!!

evan buckley and the art of crafts | beezethe/@evanpercy | 26.3k | T

Five times Buck gives Eddie a handmade gift out of love, and one time he actually means it. (or: the craft fic) crafty buck has my whole heart <3 this fic does such a good job capturing buck and his new projects and the firefam relationships!

he touched me, so i live to know | kejfeblintz/@kejfeblintz | 4.1k | T

5 times Buck and Eddie touched, and one time they really touched. so soft so cute so them <3 just a delight!!

life is just the way you hold me | allyasavedtheday/@littlespoonevan | 10.1k | T

Some people, when they go online shopping at night, buy things they don’t need. Like a Fitbit or a novelty t-shirt. Eddie… Eddie buys a professional cuddler. this was a reread, and a lovely one at that <3 soft and cozy and just wonderful. the fic equivalent of a warm hug!

next to your heartbeat, where i should be | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 11.4k | E

Eddie’s not a complete idiot. He knows this isn’t normal. He stands in front of a mirror in his underwear, the tightest pair he owns, and he poses for a picture at an angle he’s learned flatters his ass and the curve of his thigh, to send to his best friend. ohh man something about buddie being Platonic Best Bros TM and engaging in decidedly non-Platonic Best Bro behaviour gets me every time. this is hot and fun and such a delightful read <3

rouge my neck | notathingtoseehere | 4.1k | M

Eddie is definitely not jealous at all, and has a completely normal reaction to strangers talking to Buck. they're idiots, they're in love, what more could a girl (me) want? nothing, the answer is nothing, because this fic is everything!!

take the bitter with the sweet | fruitsdoesnotknow/@fruitsdontknow | 5.2k | T

No one thought to brief Ravi on the Buckley-Diaz situation when he finally joins the 118. Spoiler: it goes about as well as a car crash. ravi struggling to figure out what on earth is going on with buddie is one of my favourite things in fics <3 this one also has brilliant firefam dynamics!!

the cost of doing business | pretentiousswanqueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 5.4k | T

Ravi's landlord status makes him privy to some confidential information about the 118's finest. another one in a string of really lovely ravi fics <3 fluff and humour and such wonderful ravi narration!!

there's one thing (it's the weight of our wish) | atlasblue85/@atlasblue85 | 3.6k | GA

“I just don’t get it,” he says to Buck over the phone one day in mid-February, a couple months into the relo. “Last time they were because I was dating someone I shouldn’t have been dating. I’ve been single for nearly a year now, this shouldn’t be happening.” Buck hums across the line and Eddie rolls his eyes, tracking a flock of birds heading west. “Okay, you clearly have thoughts. Out with it.” “It’s just…” Buck starts. “Is that really why your panic attacks were happening? Because you were dating the wrong person?” the structure of this fic is so cool, and i love the buddie phone call at the start <3

TRUST! | pairofraggedclaws/@pairofraggedclaws | 7.8k | E

“I get used to it, I guess. Kind of. After a while,” Eddie says. Then, very quietly, “I’m just, uh, sensitive.” “Oh,” Buck says. Eddie's just sensitive. Eddie, his best friend, who he has now seen when he comes. Who comes in under a minute if he isn’t getting some on the regs. This is – this is – interesting. yeah buck interesting sure is a word you could use lmao. THIS FIC. this absolute gem of a fic <3 so hot and soft and just a delight!!

winner winner chicken dinner | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 1.9k | T

He’d rolled his eyes when Linda had sent him the recipe, the brightly coloured letters at the top of the page spelling out MARRY ME CHICKEN. She’d told him to make it for Buck some time and he’d sent back every unimpressed emoji he could find, but— It wasn’t supposed to work. He hadn’t made it because he’d thought it would do anything, only because the creamy chicken with sun-dried tomatoes actually sounded really good.  sweet and funny and fluffy! this fic makes me crave chicken. i did in fact bookmark the recipe <3

worth it | tabbytabbytabby/@tabbytabbytabby | 1.6k | T

When Buck gets a cold, Eddie takes care of him. buddie taking care of each other, my absolute beloved <3 based on the tags, this is right up my alley, and the tags were right! one of my favourites for sure!

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

.

.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick. 

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

.

.

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive. 

.

.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

.

.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

.

.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.  

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating���paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending  once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.  

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”  

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[st0rmyskies]

What Your Favorite Link Says About You

A.k.a. The Links as tarot cards/your rising sign/your blood type.

Time

You're likely an older Zelda fan. Ibuprofen has become a food group for you. Anyone who thinks OoT isn't the greatest Zelda game has you clutching your pearls and tutting. Kids these days don't know how good they have it.

You are a person to whom young people come for advice, either in your career or in life in general. You're happy to give it, especially because you love to help, but on the inside you're silently screaming, What?? Why me???

You may have trouble sleeping through the night. Even if it's not every night, there are some where you just can't turn your brain off and worries or worst-case scenarios just keep playing and replaying ad nauseaum.

You enjoy time in solitude to appreciate the beauty of nature. I bet you know how to braid a mean daisy crown.

“The flow of time is always cruel...” - Some event in your life took your innocence from you, perhaps much too early. You grew up quickly because of it.

Legend

Either you had a crush on the emo kid in high school or you were the emo kid in high school.

You might be jaded by the world, but you still have a solid work ethic and a soft heart despite it all. Even if you hide it all beneath a healthy layer of sass.

You possess a multitude of skills, not all of which are related. Anytime a friend needs a piece of clothing mended or a picture frame hung on the wall or a leak in a faucet addressed, you have the tools and the willingness to help.

Either you have a history of moving frequently when you were young, or you have a restless spirit. You may never quite feel 'at home' in any given place.

"But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end." - You’ve suffered a meaningful loss in your life and you have a hard time opening up again because of it. 

Hyrule

You root for the underdog, or perhaps you are the underdog. Any of those "against all odds" stories just hit you square in the chest.

Somewhat quiet by nature, you do vital work behind the scenes but you aren't the type to seek out a leadership position. Leave the limelight to somebody else, please.

You might sell yourself short when it comes to your skills and abilities, but you should believe in yourself, man! You can do it!!

You have a capricious streak in you that rears its head now and again. That smile can look sharp and devilish in the right light.

"It's dangerous to go alone!" - You either already have or are destined to find 'that one person' with whom you can open up and truly be yourself. 

Twilight

I'm willing to put money on the fact that Twilight Princess was your first Zelda game.

You have a strong sense of justice and get really bent out of shape when you encounter unfairness or flaw in the system, whatever that may be. You might be considered an outsider in some way because of this.

You're the friend who scoops spiders up in a cup and sets them outside. Live and let live.

You were the 'wolf kid' in middle school. Come on, those amazing tie dye shirts? Wolf Woman? Julie of the Wolves?? Even if you kept it inside, it was there in some way.

"Your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero's tunic you wear." - You put a lot of stock in the opinions of others and hold yourself to a higher standard because of it. Sometimes that standard isn't achievable, though, so try to be kind to yourself. 

Sky

You, my friend, have a soft heart. You're generally a happy-go-lucky sort of person. You're likely to make excuses for those who've been mean to you in the past and come out as friends on the other side.

You're crafty, or at the very least good with your hands. You're the type to give someone a handmade gift rather than go buy something for them for their birthday, a holiday, etc.

You have a strong affinity for your friends. If anything bad were to happen to them, you'd turn violent at the drop of a hat.

You may have some level of chronic illness that affects you. Although you might do things in a different way or at your own pace, though, you still come out on top.

"You fight like no man or demon I have ever known." - You have the capability for great things. World-changing sorts of things. Don't give up!

Wild

You're some flavor of neurodivergent, if I had to guess I'd say ADHD. You have 42 tabs open in your brain at any given time and you have no idea which one the music is coming from.

You're an incredibly creative person, although you might have trouble finishing tasks/works-in-progress. Doesn't mean you didn't learn something along the way!

Rigid guidelines or deadlines stress you out. You'd rather be given a goal and decide for yourself when and how to get there. When you do have a deadline, you're a bit of a procrastinator.

Sometimes you don’t get the 'right' way to do things, but you carve your own path--although sometimes it's unorthodox--and get there in your own time.

"Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten." - In spite of how your life changes you, for better or for worse, you have a driving inspiration or ethic or vocation that moves you forward at all costs.

Warriors

Those who don't know you well tend to boil you down to one or two trite traits. In reality, you contain multitudes. Most people couldn't handle all of you, not that they deserve to know even part of you.

You tend to lay it on thick--be that your charm, attitude, or whatever else your social shield might be--because you're hiding some deeper secret or insecurity at your core.

You're the mom friend or the planner in your group, or perhaps you're the oldest child. You’ll pass on an authority role if and when you can, but likely you’re still involved in some supervisory capacity in a given situation. 

You kill spiders with fire. Show NO mercy.

"You dare raise the blade of evil's bane to me? So be it. Hyrule's blood will be on your hands." - You have strong convictions and you aren't afraid to take risks, major risks, to do what you know to be right.

Four

Babe, if you ain't short, you've got short person energy. You scare me a little bit tbh.

You were praised for not being a problem child growing up, or for being very responsible at a young age.

You have a vivid imagination! You may have had an imaginary friend as a child or lived in your own little world altogether. I bet your notebook pages were strewn with little doodles in school.

You're a lover of information. If you could choose between an afternoon at the library or a movie matinee, it would be the former.

"Hanging around with you fools is dangerous for my health." - You're the snark friend, aren't you.  

Wind

You are extroverted to a fault. You need the company of others to recharge that social battery. The quintessential golden retriever friend.

You had active involvement in the music and theatre department. I'd be surprised if you weren't in at least one show in high school.

Having adventures is where it's at! You're a big fan of travel, either cross-country road trips or international flights. You could happily live out of a suitcase.

You tend to make friends easily wherever you go. If everyone in this classroom/workplace/bar doesn't know your name already, they will pretty quick.

"I have been waiting for you, boy... Do not betray my expectations.” - Against all odds, you've proven yourself to be worthy of great things. Screw what fate has in store! You're the type to take your own destiny by the 'nads.

[starryinkart]

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)

Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I don’t think I’ve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao 🤣

Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!😓

{Colorless Lines Below!!}

Headcannons for them below too!!!

———————

Some headcannons in the show universe cause I’m feeling fun:

- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!

- Catnap doesn’t talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.

- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking people’s heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.

- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.

-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.

- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.

- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.

- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didn’t belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.

- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!

- Kickin doesn’t really like or trust Catnap much, and doesn’t try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.

- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.

- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.

- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. He’s tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think he’s acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.

———————

If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didn’t forget, things have just been busy!!

ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend 👀👀👀 Perhaps some angst or something fun?

[maintitle]

I want to talk a little bit about the Morrigan/Mythal situation, because I've seen a lot of people talk about how Morrigan chose Mythal and chose that power and therefore this is her life and her ultimate evolution and generally just dismissing what happens to her after Mythal rejoins her as a natural evolution of the character, girlboss, ect. I don't want to be dismissive of that take because it can be one that is easily taken without reflection, but I do think it terribly misunderstands the nature of Flemeth and Morrigan's relationship and the methods by which she was very carefully raised.

So let's talk about Morrigan, how she was groomed and abused, and the training she took great pride in that was that was ultimately weaponized against her by design. Let's also talk about the great pains the game goes through in order to sidestep these issues, and by doing so leaving a much better story on the cutting room floor in order to make a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that misses the depth of their relationship entirely.

I'd like to say at the jump that the fusion of Morrigan and Mythal isn't a story I'm resistant too. I assumed this was the direction they would go and I truly think there was some fascinating storytelling to be had that expanded upon the themes already present in both. But I also think the Veilguard writers either misunderstand the exact nature of how Morrigan was raised, or needed to ignore it in order for Morrigan to serve as a vessel for Mythal in order to serve Solas' story (an issue I have with her use in this game in general, but that's for another post.)

The most revealing conversation that I think Morrigan has in regards to Flemeth is actually one that occurs very early in Origins. I think it's juxtaposition with other scenes is important;

Morrigan: "My Mother has been hunted from time to time, yes. My Templar fools like Alistair, which should tell you how successful they generally were. Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact. The Templars would come again and she would look at me and smile and say that the fun was to begin once more."

Warden: "You really had no trouble with them?

Morrigan: "I am unsure. I was too young to understand, and perhaps 'twas bravado on Flemeth's part. Or perhaps she was merely amused. I will never know. Flemeth would warn them, once. 'Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed." Morrigan: "And then the true game began. Often Flemeth would use me as bait." She giggles in amusement. "A little girl to scream, and run, and lure the templars deeper into the wilds and to their doom."

Warden: "Flemeth used you as bait?"

Morrigan: "'Twas a game, and I a young girl. If I didn't get to play, I would have been very upset."

This is a really important example, not just of how callously Morrigan was trained to kill when she was challenged at such a young age, but also because it exemplifies how Flemeth taught her. There's an assumption that Flemeth simply yelled and screamed at Morrigan her entire childhood, and that was true in places, but Flemeth was very crafty in how she presented the lessons that she felt were necessary for Morrigan to have.

A bit further into the conversation;

Warden: "Do you still think it was fun?" Morrigan: "I think that my Mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear. And I think it was necessary."

Interestingly, if you don't agree with this assessment, Morrigan ends the conversation very suddenly.

The point of highlighting both of these conversations isn't necessarily to outline the casual and cruel abuse, but instead to show how sinister Flemeth's teaching methods were. She treated a child with kindness and the warmness of a friend or Mother when it suited the needs of Morrigan's lessons, but when she broke out and did something that would endanger those teachings, she violently lashed out, as is evident with the mirror scene.

These juxtapositions are important when you look at who Morrigan becomes as an adult, and why she's sent away during the Blight at all. As we know, it was Flemeth's plan all along for Morrigan to offer the ritual before the battle with the Archdemon, but Morrigan posits that it's now her making those decisions and not her Mother. This is highlighted by the line;

Morrigan: "Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will."

If we jump ahead a bit to Inquisition, this thought process is expanded on a lot more, in a lot more detail, highlighting the philosophy in Mythal's temple;

Morrigan: "There is... a danger to the natural order. Legends walked Thedas once, things of might and wonder. Their passing has left us all the lesser. Corypheus would squander the ancient power of the well. I would have it restored"

Inquisitor: "I wasn't expecting your answer to be so... romantic."

Morrigan: "Trust me. Your surprise is matched only by my own." Sigh. "Mankind blunders through the world, crushing what it does not understand: Elves, dragons, magic... the list is endless. We must stem the tide or be left with nothing more than the mundane. This I know to be true."

On a surface level, this can be seen as an evolution of who she was in Origins and what she believed then. I can see how that mistake might be made, and I can see how that thought process can lead to accidentally mistaking Veilguard's reply to it as being that same evolution. But if we look at the Dark Ritual, we see this is an opinion based within the philosphy she was always taught by Flemeth.

In order to expand on that, we can actually look to the comics, in the little-explored character of Yavana, sister of Morrigan.

I want to stress first we don't TRULY know much about Yavana. History implies she's a figure out of Antivan legend going back multiple ages, but it's sort of impossible to know if that's true or if it's even her and not a previous Witch Of The Wilds, or even a previous host of Mythal. I hesitate, therefor, to truly assume what her relationship with her Mother was like, however I will very carefully put forward that, based on what little dialogue we have of her, she may be a 'failed' daughter of Flemeth that Mythal deemed unworthy, as she knows about Mythal inhabiting her daughters, see's it as Flemeth does, and seems somewhere between disapointed and jealous in the fact that Morrigan seems to misunderstand that. (I'm not really here to run back the whole Origins possession versus Inquisition's and now Veilguard's 'a soul is not hefted on the unwilling, because frankly it doesn't really weigh in on the point being made here as much as you'd suspect, as you'll see.) But this assumption is questionable, and might be both wrong and not relevant to the issue, if perhaps fairly telling.

What we DO know about her for certain is that she was raised by Flemeth, and at some point moved to Antiva in order to nurture and preserve the return of Dragons to Thedas. Her actual wording of this point, I think, is so telling of FleMythal as a character that I almost wish it wasn't hidden away in the comics;

This is, nearly verbatim, the same message Morrigan gives both in short in Origins before the Dark Ritual, and in much more detail in the Temple Of Mythal in Inquisition. I also find Alistair's response to this INCREDIBLY telling, as one of Alistair's great talents is seeing through people;

While I think the phrasing is very purposefully dismissive and flippant, I don't think the sentiment is totally off base. It actually leads me into the entire thesis of this post, and an aspect of this relationship that some fans and even writers seem to blatantly miss;

The preservation of the old magic is not Morrigan's dream. The preservation of magic is what Morrigan was raised to value most in the world by her abuser.

To illustrate this, let's look at Morrigan's arc in Inquisition, and what it's actually saying about her and Flemythal; The cycle of abuse.

Mythal's Temple is a story about Morrigan and the folly of pride, certainly, but it's also a character arc of a woman who was very carefully raised to HAVE that pride. This isn't an assumption I have made based on evidence, Flemeth outright says it in DA2;

Hawke: "Is (Morrigan) someone I should know?" Flemeth: "She's a girl who thinks she knows what is what better than I, or anyone." Chuckle. "And why not? I raised her to be as she is. I cannot expect her to be less!"

This is, to be, the smoking gun of Flemeth's entire method of teaching and parenting. She is incredibly adept at training flaws into her daughters, pride being the greatest of them. More than that, she's very talented at imparting just enough knowledge that they think they know everything, while also holding back vast amounts of it in order to stay in control.

The Temple Of Mythal is one of the crowning achievements of that. While you can't exactly expect Mythal to have known that's where Morrigan would end up (although Morrigan certainly questions if she knew it would happen), it really hardly matters if she knew or not. Morrigan was raised from birth in order to make the exact decision she made at the Temple. The preservation of what might be lost is such a core part of her being that she can't escape it... and more than that, she can't fathom it being a negative trait. To her, it's a holy calling.

I'm going to pull out the most direct conversation of abuse Morrigan documents now, not to pile on more evidence, but instead because I think it's a more effective conversation to use as juxtaposition of why she thinks that than I could make myself;

Leliana: They say your mother is Flemeth, a witch of the Korcari Wilds. Morrigan: They also say that washing your feet in winter makes you catch cold in the head, but we all know that is not true. But sometimes they are right and they are right in this. Leliana: You know the stories about-- Morrigan: Of course. You think my mother would let me go without telling me all the stories of her youth? Leliana: My mother told me stories too. She was the one who kindled my love of the old tales and legends. Morrigan: Hmph. my mother's stories curdled my blood and haunted my dreams. No little girl wants to hear about the Wilder men her mother took to her bed, using them till they were spent, then killing them. No little girl wants to be told that this is also expected of her, once she comes of age. Leliana: I... uh... I see. Morrigan: No, you don't. You really don't.

This is the environment Morrigan grew up in. She was exposed to Flemeth taking advantage of men, she was exposed to gruesome murder both as a game and in casual moments. Any attempt she made to take self-possession or grow as a person was aggressively curtailed and broken. This was a girl so afraid of her home life that, for many years, she spent as much time as she could living amongst the animals of the forest, and escaping her home life.

Now, imagine; This same abusive woman gives you positive reinforcement. You're a child, and you crave that attention like any child would of their Mother, and you know that reinforcement comes when you're an attentive and talented student. The closest you ever are with your Mother is when you're taking in everything she has to teach you, so it becomes the center of your life. Soon, it's not just a method by which to be close to your Mother, but a core tenant in your life. They stay with you as a fascination, as something you take pride in, as a holy crusade even as you escape your abuser and move on into a happier version of your life where you've grown and matured, where you've seemingly broken the cycle.

Now, imagine the discovery that those few, core, good memories you have were horribly tainted. The lessons you were taught were cyclical, a method by which to control you and gather that which she needs. Your life goal, your career, your passion was entirely made in order to benefit the abuser you've run from your entire life. Imagine who devastating that would be.

That's what happened at the Temple Of Mythal. That was the pride that Flemeth trained into Morrigan, the path by which she wanted her to evolve. She seized that opportunity, and that opportunity either tied her to her abuser forever, and/or told her abuser where she and her son was after years of protecting him from her.

Everything you know, everything you are, everything you've protected... is based on a lie.

Morrigan's character arc in Inquisition is her breaking that cycle. 'What Pride Had Wrought' is in reference at least partially to Morrigan's personal journey, where that pride, that passion, is something she recklessly seizes on because to her it is good and right and just and hers by nature, and it is that pride that was so ingrained into her by her abuser that she watches tear her son away from her and into the hands of said abuser.

In that moment, when she's faced by everything that her pride could lose her, she is forced to reckon with everything she has ever believed, and in the face of her greatest fear... she chooses to break the cycle of abuse. She chooses to assure that her son is safe.

The most obvious quote to be in this write-up;

Flemythal: "As you wish. Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never interfere with or harm you again. Or, keep the lad with you... and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due." Morrigan: "He returns with me." Flemythal: "Decided so quickly?" Morrigan: "Do whatever you wish. Take over my body now, if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the Mother you were to me."

This is obviously Morrigan's most famous line, but I actually am not sure if folks understand the truth depth of it; This is not only breaking the cycle of abuse and freeing her son of it, but she's also going against every natural instinct that was bred into her. This woman, the girl that was raised to lure men to their deaths for fun, who's most crucial life lesson was to do anything in order to survive... accepts she will never be safe again. She accepts the possibility of constant danger just to keep her son safe a day longer, a sacrifice her Mother would have never made for her.

This was a possible full culmination of her story. And Veilguard... sort of ignores the meaning of it by giving undo attention to Flemeth's head tilt.

I want to take a moment to preface this next section by saying that I was in no way resistant to the idea of Morrigan being possessed by Mythal in Veilguard. I in fact expected it and was excited by the possibility. There was a really brilliant way to handle the situation even within the parameters of how the game handled it, but the developers chose instead to dismiss this situation in a few lines so that they could instead focus on Mythal, and her relationship with Solas.

I don't want to outright insult the writers here. Veilguard was a game I greatly enjoyed. But I do want to say this because I find it deeply regressive, and I also find the decisions that were made were a symptom of this issue; Morrigan is not in Veilguard for her own character. Morrigan is in Veilguard because she is a convenient vessel through which to explore a character that has much more importance to the main antagonist. This is already slightly regressive because it's two characters largely only serving the plot of one male character, but I find it most troubling because the character they use her for is her own abuser, and by paying as little attention to that as possible while also barely using Morrigan herself as a character, it creates a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that... doesn't work as presented.

From her scene in the Crossroads after finding all of Solas' regrets;

Morrigan: "When I learned she intended me to become the next receptacle of an ancient god's soul, I feared naught would be left of my own. It inevitably came to pass on a deep night: I was awakened by the presence of a blaze of magic in the shape of a woman who both was, and was not, my Mother."

Rook: "I don't think I'd recover from that."

Morrigan: "Neither did I, at the start. Mythal's memories were both gift and burden, this blazing woman told me, but I must accept them of my own accord. The decision was paralyzing. What would it mean to become such a host? What would be lost if I refused? In the end, 'twas something in my Mother's voice which guided me."

Rook: "What was that?"

Morrigan: "Regret. Not the regret of a God, but of a Mother who knew she would never see me again. And so my mind remains my own. What I gained was knowledge... both Mythal's, and of those who bore her."

I think you can see where the problem lies, but let me reiterate:

Morrigan was a child of abuse. That abuse was calculated, both in how she treated her aggressively and how she gave her affection. Her methods of teaching, of raising a child, were there entirely to teach that child to continue on the legacy of Mythal. The preservation of magic was imbued very carefully into Morrigan and Yavana both in order to gather and save aspects of the ancient elves, and in order to prepare them to carry Mythal's soul. Pride was a weakness trained into them from childhood, and their lofty goal of protecting ancient magic was a weapon to be wielded in order to control them. This was a cycle Morrigan first discovered in Inquisition and began to fight against, because she wanted to break the cycle of abuse for the sake of her son.

In this game, Morrigan took on the memories of Flemythal... in order to preserve ancient magic that must be protected so that it is not lost. An instinct given to her by her Mother... in order to be used as a weapon... so that one day she would take on the soul of Mythal.

I want to be clear, I am not opposed to this storyline. I'm not going to yell 'That's problematic, you can't write that!' or 'That's a regression of her character!' because I think it's a fascinating direction to take both their characters.

The problem to me isn't that they went down this pretty natural path, the problem is they did it by... sidestepping any negative parts of how this would affect Morrigan. They sidestepped the fact that the reason she accepted her was largely because of something that Flemythal trained into her and weaponized against her, and the writing treats it as... a difficult moment that eventually brought her peace.

I think this is most exemplified in the aspect of Mythal's soul that remains in the Crossroads. As a concept some are saying it's arbitrary considering how Flemythal saved herself inside of an amulet in Origins/DA2, but I think that's lacks context. It's clear Mythal couldn't prepare this time, because she didn't expect Solas to murder her. Her soul, while saving itself, fractured into pieces. I'm definitely willing to defend that choice.

The problem, I think, is more that the fracturing is seemingly mostly used as a way to sidestep how Mythal's soul fully joining Morrigan would change this scenario. Morrigan's ultimate fear was becoming one with the soul of Mythal, so in order to avoid that they've attempted to only give Morrigan the memories of Flemythal while also seemingly leaving her unchanged as a character.

My issue with this thought process, first and foremost, is that it prevents them from exploring a much better story that has the chance of presenting a much better payoff as a story of an abused child coming to terms with her Mother. It removes the chance of Morrigan's possession being a major character arc, one that would further what she went through in Inquisition while also offering Flemythal a pathway toward an understanding with her daughter so that that ending could still be explored, in order to get to where they want to truly get to as fast as possible, which is using Morrigan as an agent for Mythal's forgiveness in order to fulfill Solas' character arc.

Imagine a more fleshed out version of this story, one where Morrigan had more of a presence within it. Over time, as you discover more about Mythal out through those flashbacks, you begin to realize something is... off about Morrigan. Her unique way of talking has slowly changed, her more sarcastic and poetic tone drips away in favor of Flemythal's more loose, jovial, sometimes playful but always pointed and aggressive tone. The player is prepared to pick up on that, but Rook isn't. Things eventually come to a head where Mythal has to reveal herself, likely as an aggressor similar to how she's handled in the Crossroads, and Morrigan is actually allowed to exist within this presentation. She sneaks through occasionally. The magic of the crossroads allows her moments of clear headedness. She reflects that she accepted her Mother's soul out of that fear, and that it's begun to change her, that she's scared of what she's losing, and even more frightened of how she's coming to understand her Mother. Conflict occurs and if you've reached Morrigan, she fights against Mythal's influence and regains control enough to fracture them just enough to have to come head-to-head, where you can guide them through decades of conflict to a mutual understanding or forgiveness through this bond they have, help Morrigan fully overcome Mythal, or help Mythal dominate Morrigan. Ideally, you'd have the ability to either remove Mythal's essence from Morrigan forcefully with an 'I reject you!' scene, or you can have your moment of forgiveness where the Flemeth side of Mythal removes herself from Morrigan, perhaps into the idol you use for Solas at the end.

But that's not what they did. What they chose to do, I think, is to sidestep a difficult issue, a problem this game does tend to have. I'm not entirely sure if they didn't quite grasp Morrigan's relationship with her Mother, or felt they were forced to gloss over it either because of the world state issue or their need to use Mythal, but the decision they came to is not an acceptable payoff to that story.

The truth of the matter is, this version of the stories' either inability to explore this issue in full or it's misunderstanding of it greatly hurts the characterization and misses a massive chance at more impactful storytelling. And that, to me, is the most damning creative decision of the entire game.

[mirensiart]

Hey Miry what are some fun (or maybe angsty) headcanons you have for the boys, including Chain?

Hmmmm 🤔 ok let me think

Sky: I know most people headcanon Warriors as the field medic, but I feel Sky is also versed in first aids and is really good at it, he has excellent bedside manner. Like the knight academy probably taught him all about it, so the 3 medics of the gang are warriors, hyrule and him. I also believe he has an impeccable stitch technique, like barely leaves scars at all. Really dexterous with his hands too, thanks to his wood crafting and harp playing, he's really good with them hands lmao.

Four: he's a blacksmith sure, and knows a lot about making weapons and maintaining them, but I like to believe he's also really good and making stuff out of leather. Like he knows how to make leather belts and pouches for the weapons his grandpa makes or leather clothes as protection in battle. Idk just a very crafty little guy that offers the entire deal aka a weapon and the leather belts to carry it, all in one service hehe

Time: I like to believe he lost his eye in a very mundane non heroic way, like maybe he fell off a rowdy horse and landed in the worst way possible or a farm centric accident. He makes up different stories about how he lost it, every time someone asks, he changes it, some stories are batshit insane and some others are super normal. He actually has told the real way he lost the eye in between the fake stories, but no one believes him. He thinks it's hilarious btw.

Twilight: I've mentioned before that I headcanon him to be a very sensitive guy, like small things can make him tear up aka a baby animal absolutely makes him want to start sobbing lmao. I like to believe he gossips and talks a lot with his epona as wolfie, like when you're in wolf form in twilight princess you can talk to animals and epona is so sweet with him when you talk to her, they are soulmates man. The guys do something dumb and he turns into wolfie just to walk to epona like "can u believe those guys??" Epona knows everything tbh like he tells her everything, she's the only one who truly knows his woes over losing midna.

Wind: I love to believe the little guy can legit control the winds, like the wind waker is a way for him to channel his magic, but he can control the wind unconsciously, too. When he gets really mad, the winds pick up speeds around him, or if he's happy, a gentle breeze circles around him, etc. His hair is always blowing in the breeze even when he's inside doors, and there's no wind. It just does that.

Legend: Excellent gardener, has a talent for growing plants, flowers, and trees. They flourish under his care. Extremely particular about soil and water and shadow/light for his plants, he not only has an apple orchard, but also grows veggies and rare flowers. Ravio maintains his garden under extreme rules and guidelines lmao ravio is not allowed to sell the apples or veggies from legend's garden, but legend encourages rav to use them for cooking instead.

Hyrule: disney princess aka animals love him lmao typical guy who befriends every single creature he meets, he could pacify a bear if he wants to. His fae part is what makes him have such an affinity with nature in general, I see him as the elves from LOTR who can feel and communicate with trees and they guide him. It's why he never uses maps, he doesn't need them.

Wild: using LOTR as my base for headcanons again lol but I see him like aragorn in the sense that aragorn is a human who was raised by elves so he feels a strong connection to elf culture because of it. I picture wild to be the same, but with the zoras, since he was childhood friends with mipha, we can imply he spent A LOT of time in zora's domain as a child. He is way more versed in zora customs, language, holidays, etc, than the hylian ones. It's also why I feel the older zora are so pissed off with him in botw, like they saw him as one of their own for so long, utter betrayal that he didn't protect their princess (mipha) and failed them all lol he has some zora mannerism in the sense that sometimes, he eats fish raw LMAO when he absentmindedly ate one in front of everyone the first time everyone was shocked for a while lmao

Warriors: absolute nervous wreck, always riddled with anxiety, really low self-esteem, is probably screaming 24/7 inside his head at all times, but is EXCEPTIONAL at faking it, like fake it til you make it is his way of life lmao he exudes over confidence and is always worried about his looks as a way to hide how much of a mess he truly is. Time & Wind has seen him at his worst and know that he's a great actor, which helps him cause he can stop pretending around them for a while

And now my link lmao

Chain: All bark, no bite. He is ironic and sarcastic and shows himself as a tough guy, but he's actually a sweetheart, and things get to him pretty easily. He learned pretty early on than carrying his heart on his sleeve is a really bad idea around the Bounty Hunter guild, since soft nice guys don't last long, so he replies to hurtful comments with sarcasm and a tough attitude, when in reality he's really hurt lmao he also jokes to cope, he'd rather throw a joke or two at you than really open up and talk about his feelings.

[rentenwins]

silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)

masterlist link | next chapter

synopsis: a nervous leehan and a supportive sungho. if he thinks he was obvious before, there’s definitely no hiding now

content: NERVOUS AND FLUSTERED AND ANNOYED LEEHAN, mild cussing, banter, jaehyun is that one friend, sungho is… yeah, food/drink mention, someone give leehan a hug?, a nudge from a friend, insecurities mention(?)

a/n: …. hi? second year uni really is doing a number on me, especially on writer’s block apparently. took me a while to be happy with this, but i hope a few of you are still following along :( take care of yourself everyone <3

wc: 1898

taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19 @luvvhaerin @saritahwang

chapter 5: who’s there?

Leehan had started walking from the art block after dropping you off at class, definitely not with a thumping heart and a giddy feeling in his chest, when his phone vibrates enthusiastically in his pocket, he picks it up to see Sungho’s contact in his text messages.

“Bro, please tell me it worked.”

He had started walking near the cafe Sungho had ditched you and Leehan earlier. Leehan sends a non-chalant “...” to Sungho as he continues walking, earbuds with music blasting trying to calm his heart.

God, he felt like he made a fool of himself, and thought that he was being way too obvious. I mean walking your crush to class? Who does that? Leehan never had much with his crushes, to be honest. Sure he was friendly and everything, but sometimes he felt like he was too friendly, it deterred his crushes away from him. Even if it was because of the crafty work of Taesan and Sungho, his alone-time with you made his feelings harder to ignore. He liked your presence, he liked your determination and passion for your work, he liked how you showed interest in his degree and his hobbies. God, what else could the fluttering feelings in his chest be? And so subconsciously he had felt the need to be closer to you.

As he continued to spiral, a persistent buzz came from his phone this time. He sighs when he sees it’s Sungho again, probably eager to know what the hell happened after he set up you two. Leehan rejects his incoming call, puts his phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode before he makes a mental note to go to the grocery store, just so he could do something with his jittery self.

—

An impromptu trip to the grocery calmed Leehan’s mind, maybe a bit too much since his arms were almost straining from the weight of the bags, and he wondered what kind of sorcery allowed the bags to still be intact as he made it to his apartment complex.

He’s only been at the apartment for a month, time flies especially with uni. It was starting to feel all familiar now. The spring months coming to an end meant the sun was starting to set a little later, it wasn’t dark when he reached his floor, but it was the weird period of the sun still wanting to wane for just an hour longer.

He’s also made himself quite the chef since he’s moved, and turns out eggs seem to be the most versatile regardless of breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Except, he’s forgotten to buy eggs on this trip. Because apparently making a fool of himself today once wasn’t enough, he’s had to do it a second time.

Getting over himself, he calls Sungho on his phone. Despite the foolishness of the other boy, Leehan always seemed to approach Sungho first whenever he needed something.

“Leehan?” comes Sungho’s voice, a little raspy from an obvious nap he probably woke him up from, “so you finally decided to call! Tell me, did you hol—“

“Do you have any eggs?”

The line goes silent before Sungho wheezes into the speaker,

“Bro, you woke me up from my wonderful nap, may I add, to ask me for some eggs? After you ignored aaaalll of my messages after you dropped off y/—“

“Do you?” Leehan cuts him off again, about to slap the boy across the face through the phone.

Sungho sighs, admitting defeat and knowing he’ll need to pry information out of Leehan another time, “Fine. I do but unless you wanna walk by, I really don’t wanna walk right now. And plus, you’re at the other side of the building on the floor below me, do I really look like the type to be bo—“

“I’m literally just asking for eggs, I’m begging you to be normal for once. Please.”

Sungho annoyingly giggles again before he diverts the conversation to its intended point. “You know there’s someone right across from you who’s more than happy to help? Y/n’s probably already come back from class, she always got eggs from all of that stuff she bakes all the time. Some kind of ‘therapy’ she says or whatever it was.”

Leehan hates that Sungho is right, and plus walking to Sungho’s seems absolutely treacherous with the pain of walking home from the grocery store and the annoyingness of his friend from today.

“Fine, fine! If it means I get to see your stupid face just one less time today.” Leehan almost shouts onto his phone speaker.

“Ohoho! You wanna play with me right now? Come at me you son of a—“ and Leehan hangs up before Sungho could finish.

Leehan feels a weird wave of confidence as he walks to his door with the intention to walk to your door.

“Eggs. It’s just eggs. God, Leehan, get over yourself.” He pep talks to himself. He doesn’t walk too far before he’s ringing your doorbell, distancing yourself from the camera on the door’s lock. The door opens with a little scuffle as you emerge from inside,

“Leehan? Oh— Leehan! What’s up? Can I help you?”

Leehan freezes when he sees your form. It’s your same outfit from earlier, but your hair was up and out of your face. Tired but still had that glimmer he so lo— liked about your appearance.

“Eggs.”

You blink at him. “… Eggs?”

Leehan coughs and clears his throat, “Sorry! Sorry, I meant, do you have eggs? I, uh, went to the store earlier but I forgot some so I was hoping… I could ask for some from you?” He says in one breath.

Your head was tilted to the side as he spoke and your eyes widened. “Oh! Yeah! Of course, of course let me just get the—“

“Yo, who’s there?” Leehan hears a voice coming from inside of your apartment along with footsteps getting closer to him.

“It’s just Leehan!” You shout back and you look back at the boy at your door, “I’ll be back, how many you need? Two?” Leehan nods as you swiftly turn back into your apartment.

Leehan peers to the left of the door a little to see the inside, the entrance of your apartment was similar to his. His gaze was suddenly disturbed when Jaehyun popped out of nowhere.

“Leehan? What are you doing here? Wanna study with us?” Jaehyun says while teasingly pointing at Leehan at the doorway. Leehan’s head does a 180 when he realises Jaehyun… was in your apartment… just you two… alone—

“Study? But you’re in economics and y/n’s in interior, why would you be helping her study?” Leehan blurts out before he could think.

Jaehyun laughs a bit while he crosses his arms, all comfy in his white hoodie, “Well, apparently, interior design requires some calculus unit, so I’ve been helping out y/n in exchange for dinner every week.”

“Every week?”

“Every week.” Jaehyun nods, wiggly eyebrows and everything until it clicks in Leehan’s head and he smacks Jaehyun’s arm in a pout Jaehyun’s seen right through Leehan’s blatant jealousy.

Jaehyun fakes his pain with a groan and a dramatic turn over his shoulder. You magically appear behind Jaehyun with four eggs in a cut out of its own carton. After throwing Jaehyun a glance, he straightens up and moves out of your way.

“Here you go. I got you some extra so you can have more before you get to go to the store. Did you need more?” You say as you hand Leehan the eggs, and he replies with a small ‘no’ and a shake of his head.

If someone had told Leehan this morning that he’d be standing in front of his crush’s door with four eggs in a cut out of its own carton, he’d probably believe you with how foolishly smitten he is with you. You cough, albeit a little awkwardly,

“Oh and uh, thank you for dropping me off at class earlier,” you start to fiddle with the edge of your pullover, “and for the chai latte!”

Leehan gapes a little too long at you again before he clears his throat, “Oh, of course! You’re welcome! I’m happy to do it again, walk you to class and whatnot.”

How sweet of him, you thought. “Aw, no chai lattes this time though?” You tease Leehan.

“I mean, if you’d like. I don’t mind that either.” He says with a smile, looking into your eyes. Your eyes for a half a beat longer, your eyes widening in surprise. Just when I thought he couldn’t get sweeter—

“Well- thank you again, y/n,” Leehan stutters out, “ I hope you uh, your studying goes well tonight then. But don’t stay up too long! Rest is important too.”

A giggle escapes your mouth before you could stop it, “Thank you, Leehan. Hope you enjoy your night, and no need to pay me back for them or anything.” You gesture to the eggs you had given him.

Honestly, if Leehan had talked to you for another minute, he would’ve dropped all the eggs. Though if that actually happened, he probably would’ve moved out and lived in some foreign country forever in an attempt to shroud his embarrassing crush on you. But thankfully, Leehan makes it to his apartment across the floor even with shaky legs.

Though this time, he doesn’t drop any eggs, so he thanks you again and says a small ‘bye’ behind you. It hits you at that moment that Jaehyun probably witnessed the whole exchange. You turn to see Jaehyun gaping at you, his glasses only adding onto the already-stupid look on his face. He starts to laugh,

“Oh my god, you should’ve SEEN the way his smile dropped when he realised i was here!” Jaehyun manages to wheeze in between laughs, “God, it looked like he wanted to smack me into oblivion. I did NOT know he was the jealous type.”

He continues to laugh as you walk past him with an annoyed look on your face, though internally you hope Leehan wasn’t actually too offended by Jaehyun’s presence. You sit back down on the floor in your living room behind your coffee table, Jaehyun follows suit. Even with the distraction of Leehan and his flowy brown hair, you get back to studying for your mid-term test.

Meanwhile, Leehan makes a dinner omelette for himself, sitting at his small dining table staring at his aquarium, counting how many more times can he really make a fool of himself in front of you again. He stabs his fork a bit too hard on his plate, and groans at himself.

It’s not that he doesn’t want you to know he likes you, or that he wants you next to him all the time. He’s not the best at reading people either, what if it was his delusions thinking that you liked him back too? Not with a weird, awkward man like him. With a heavy reluctance, he picks up his phone and texts Sungho’s number, this time actually with some will.

“I think I screwed up” he types. Almost immediately after he sends Sungho a message, his phone rings and he jumps a little.

“Leehan.”

“Sungho.”

“What did you do?”

Leehan bites his lip. He needed to get over himself some point or another.

“Y/n. I think I like her.”

next chapter.

[smilingcrittersthingig]

I have been thinking of that AU where all critters but Catnap and Dogday were reborn.

I feel like some additional characters would be needed to give the Reborns the therapy they needed.

And I cannot help but imagine Cartoon Bubba having parents who are well renowned psychologist, then I imagined cartoon Catnap's family would be dream walkers.

God the urge to make another fanfic where it’s Dogday and Catnap going on an adventure to find someone who can help fix their friends while they drag the others with them…

Dogday: Let’s go find Mr. Therapist Tarantula! *raises his hands in the air*

Catnap: *raises his fist as well*

Meanwhile Kickin refuses to leave because it might be dangerous out there,

Bubba doesn’t want to be in a road trip with Picky,

Picky also doesn’t wanna go because she’s afraid she might eat somebody on the way but she also doesn’t want to stay with Bubba or Kickin cause of guilt,

Hoppy wants to join but is scared of the risks,

And Crafty and Bobby would actually come along willingly because Crafty doesn’t want to end up murdering someone again and Bobby wants everyone to be okay like pre-HoJ

GOD THE URGE—

[shinning-whammy]

heretic

For this AU, all the critters believe in the prototype, but few begin to doubt. Dogday, as the leader, tries to help his friends, sometimes with ideas about escaping to find more food for the other levels, but Catnap and the prototype do not allow it. So, Catnap always stops them from sabotaging the plans for all of them.

Catnap and Dogday are very good friends and they sleep together in one place. Dogday knows about the prototype but only saw it once, which was enough for him to believe it exists. However, he starts to doubt with the years about the actions he takes for them.

To protect Dogday from each action his friends make, Catnap gives him "therapy" with the red mist, making Dogday not know if the punishment his friends receive from Catnap is a nightmare or if it really happened.

Each time a critter disappears, Catnap always tells Dogday they abandoned him, but Dogday has nightmares about seeing them die by Catnap. Since he never finds the bodies, he thinks they really escaped.

Catnap does not like the other critters but allows them to be there while helping and following orders from the prototype, something Crafty and Piggy will do.

The other critters die as the signs in the game explain.

Dogday will believe in the prototype's actions for 9 years. Each time he loses a friend, he starts to doubt it, but he wants to keep his friendship with Catnap. At the same time, he tries to understand why he still believes in it while starting to doubt.

Each time Dogday has a "therapy" session with the red smoke that leaves him out for 4 days, making him sleep all day, only waking up to eat or drink water, only to fall asleep again. Catnap always watches him in that state while giving Dogday's chores to the others until he recovers. When that happens, they are forbidden to talk about the friends he started to lose.

Dogday and Catnap will have a friendship for about 9 years. The last year is when dogday decide to help Bobby to escape, and she does it, causing Dogday to be punished with the red smoke, giving him nightmares all the time. This makes Dogday start to hate the prototype and makes his hate for Catnap grow, leading him to end up in jail where he sees how his last friend, Piggy, dies.

Piggy will tell the truth to Dogday about how she cooked their friends and gave the food to everyone because they were hungry, especially her. But since she needed more and more food, the prototype decided sacrifices needed to be made.

This happened a few months before the player appeared, causing Catnap to try to convince Dogday to believe again, especially because he missed their friendship and did not want to be alone. But Dogday now says no all the time, leading to punishment and being slowly eaten until the player appears.

this is a protoype comic maybe i do a longer and better version in a future maybe.

next

you can see more about my art on my other social media

patreon - Deviantart - youtube -instagram - twitter - kofi

[kafus]

ever since liko lost in her battle against chili back in HZ056 i've been pretty passionate about wanting liko to win her future battle against grusha, partially because i just love her and want to see her win after such a heart-wrenching defeat, but also because i thought it would be good character writing - she loses, but learns to be passionate about battling in the process, and then she can apply that to her next major fight and win as a result. that was my thought process.

as HZ063 drew closer however, i started feeling like that maybe isn't what would happen - the way episodes have panned out, she hasn't really had any major battle training since her loss against chili (her joining roy with "awesome training" does not count LOL), and that massive cetitan and the type disadvantage started to really loom over the whole thing. but i still wasn't sure and by the time HZ063 came out this weekend, i genuinely had no clue what to expect, i just hoped the character writing payoff would be good, win or lose.

AND IT WAS!!! thank fucking god i love liko so much i need more really good liko episodes. i'm eating this up

first off: liko REALLY shows off what she learned from battling chili. honestly an absolute treat to watch. her level of increased confidence and focus honestly made me feel spoiled as a fan. never once did she take her eyes off the battle, she was not distracted by grusha being a hardass, and she's able to think through being pinned into a corner to turn the tides despite the odds stacked against her.

everything from the strategic switch to tebrim, to firing off magical leaf into huljukira's mouth, to grabbing tyltalis by the tail/feet... she's actually a really crafty and thoughtful battler when she sets her mind to it, which makes sense because her battle preferences are more to do with her mind than raw strength. even roy remarks "nice control" because she has notable precise control over her pokemon's actions. point is the payoff for her character development in her battle against chili was still present... despite her loss.

and man does this loss sting like a bitch after watching her perform so well... AND on top of that grusha is a complete asshole about it. like UGH it just hurts to watch. and frankly there's no excuse as someone in grusha's position to be treating students that way... but there is a reason. and the reason makes this episode super fucking interesting. i really like how it was handled, actually.

pretty much directly after a scene where grusha interrupts the trio having fun sledding with the arukujira, we're presented with grusha's backstory about why and how he quit snowboarding. the writing is essentially saying, here's grusha being a no-fun, shitty person, and here's why he's like that. (notably, the trio was doing something similar to snowboarding and had to dodge being injured themselves...)

what's important, though, is that we also find out that grusha didn't quit snowboarding because he was too seriously injured to ever do it again, just that it would be harder for him to achieve the same results he used to. he made a conscious, emotionally fueled decision to quit, because like the man says: he's harsh on everyone, himself included.

at this point, he is basically the opposite of liko, and to the general themes of most stories in pokemon. he is not an incredible pokemon trainer because of passion, in fact he only became a trainer after his snowboarding accident just so he'd have something to succeed at again. he is not an incredible pokemon trainer because of friends or adventure or any other reason than a desperation to reach the same artificial "success" heights that he did before his accident. not to say that he's inhuman - forgiving the arukujira that caused his injury, patting it on the head, and becoming its trainer, signals a sense of personal guilt over the situation, and the arukujira in question obviously likes him despite his behavior. but it's a very strong contrast to what liko learned in HZ056, with being connected with her pokemon through battle, and enjoying fighting tough opponents even though she could lose.

and it's important to note that even as far back as HZ056 itself, grusha was framed as a contrast to liko. he approaches her and his coldness (no pun intended) immediately slices into the atmosphere of the scene and liko's improved mood, and he implies that liko is weak for being happy after losing, because all he personally cares about is winning and being on top.

all of this is to say that grusha is in the wrong to fail liko, he's in the wrong to talk down to her the way that he does. and this is made clear by the writing! when liko loses and grows from it, grusha's there to say something negative about it. when liko is having fun with her pokemon and her friends, he sarcastically remarks that she must be "pretty confident" if she has time to "goof off." the man in the gym says that he could have kept snowboarding, but he quit, as opposed to liko who gets back up again. everyone thinks he's harsh and offputting.

and at the end when grusha fails her, even dot and roy are like, no, maybe he'll pass you or give you a second chance! because they (rightly) experienced those things and were able to grow from those experiences, so surely the same would be the case for liko? but no! and it's a shock to everyone!

the sound effect paired with liko's surprised face clearly indicates that this is supposed to shock the viewer just as much as it shocks liko and her friends.

and her friends are so surprised that they even try to argue with grusha about it!! it is unfair and wrong! and that's so fucking interesting!!! grusha is a flawed adult character, he's not part of the explorers but he's still treating liko wrongly as opposed to with the support that most of the adults in her life have given her, and he has a reason which makes him compelling, but not an excuse. for the type of show this is i am continually surprised by the complexity of some of the character writing, and this hits particularly well. liko's loss feels meaningful... and like setup for something.

to me, this episode seamlessly bridges off of liko's character development set in motion in HZ056, and also makes her character more clear through her contrast with grusha. i definitely don't think this is truly the end of this plot thread - whether or not liko actually gets to fight grusha again sometime in the future or something else, i definitely think liko will get to prove herself in some way, that pokemon battles aren't just about winning or losing and that grusha was indeed in the wrong. and i do hope she gets to fight grusha again or grusha gets to see her prove herself in the future, because it seems like the guy needs to learn to loosen up and have fun and be passionate, too.

i feel even more sure of this because amethio is in the upcoming episode (thank god, i missed him) and grusha parallels amethio in a lot of ways - they both work very hard to be stronger, but just because of a desperation to succeed, and they're both absolutely miserable and irritable as people because of it, though of course amethio's motivations for being this way are very different. i won't speculate too much about the next episode right now but i am hoping that this will be pointed out by the narrative in some way - an amethio episode coming right after this feels... intentional to say the least lol.

the intentional nature of horizons' character writing and its ability to follow through on things it sets up episodes ago never fails to impress me tbh. really good episode. i fucking love liko

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 50!

another lovely round of fics for you all <3 full disclosure i did not double check this with my masterlist of recs so while i doubt it, it's possible that i've recced some of these before... i guess that could just be a sign that they're extra good lol.

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

75 best knitting puns that will have you hooked | iphigenias/@oatflatwhite | 4.1k | GA

Buck—Buck is knitting. Eddie blinks, rubs his eyes. Yeah, Buck is knitting: thick fingers a little clumsy as Bobby shows him how to purl stitch with a soft-looking ball of pink ombre wool.  softest most domestic little fic <3

all the lights are coming on | sharpbutsoft/@sharpbutsoft | 1.2k | GA

What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic? spreading the holiday magic <3<3 this was everything i needed and wanted and i love it so very much

any other bodily sense | kiwiibiird/@buckevanley | 10.2k | GA

Post-s2 sickfic. Buck is stuck with a broke leg and a bad cold. Maddie and Eddie help him out. forehead kisses and maddie and buddie and hurt/comfort... literally what else could a girl (me) need? the answer is nothing because this fic is everything!!

born with a weak heart | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 7.5k | T

the one where eddie won't touch buck once he wakes up in the hospital, and buck goes absolutely bonkers bananas about it. is it truly a michelle rec list if there's no touch-starved fic on there? i don't think it is lol. i've reread this several times now and it's just the absolute loveliest <3

don't break | odysseus_calls | 2.4k | T

5 times the 118 is tired of Buck and Eddie acting like a couple, and the time they find out they've been dating the whole time. i LOVE hijinks and shenanigans <3 this captures them so perfectly!!

hooker | mansikka | 3.9k | T

When Eddie's life turns to hell, he turns to hooking. Crochet hooking. i've been attempting to crochet again (made a little cat today!) and it's only half because i want to be cool and crafty and half because people make it sound so cool and crafty in fics. anyway point is this was brilliant and so eddie and i loved it v v much!!

i sleep so i can see you ('cause i hate to wait so long) | turquoiseviolet/@turquoisevioiet | 25.7k | T

eddie’s not sleeping and buck’s worried. after all, he’s supposed to be the one who fixes everything, isn’t he? platonic cuddling! homoerotic friendship! getting together! if buddie fic had a bingo card, this would tick all of the boxes <3 so good!!

loves a game, wanna play? | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 57.5k | M

In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together. okay so admittedly all my big plans to read my marked for later list this week failed miserably, cause this is the only fic from there that i actually read... on the other hand, what a brilliant one it is!! it's so funny and so good and i loved the social media elements in there. also, maya and maria <3

sub drop city, population: eddie diaz | peaktotheocean/@peaktotheocean | 4k | T

It takes Eddie longer than he cares to admit to realize that Buck has been giving him aftercare on the sly. i'm such a sucker for aftercare and this has SUCH a lovely buddie dynamic <3

swinging there, in the corner of our haven | anti_romantic_cherub | 1.6k | GA

Eddie bought Buck a hammock, and now he's reaping the rewards (Buck napping in his backyard). buck napping in eddie's backyard <3 such a lovely image and this is executed so so well, i love it!!

the city is a jungle and i'm a beast | putanauhere/@putanauhere | 42.8k | M

Eddie has enough on his plate this summer – a newly empty nest, a terrible new captain, and a new mustache – without adding a new werewolf to the mix. the most fascinating werewolf au <3 i love the buddie dynamic here and how they approach the werewolfism with such different attitudes. so good!!

toss up | saucerfulofsins/@saucerfulofsins | 3.5k | E

Eddie is caught browsing bad gay porn, and Buck takes it upon himself to show Eddie the good stuff. most glorious brilliant fic concept to ever fic <3 this is fantastic!!

trivial pursuit of love | niemi | 6.2k | T

Buck attends Tommy’s trivia night with Eddie, his newfound feelings for his best friend bottled up and ready to burst. As it turns out, he’s not the only one with a secret. buddie at trivia night!! i loved this fic so much, it was a real highlight on a rainy morning bus ride <3

weaving in our loose ends | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 8.6k | T

Eddie is a knitter with the Loose Ends Project and he's assigned to finish the project of a loved one of Buck's. the gasp i let out when i realised what buck's project is... gorgeous fic!!

white sheets, you and me start to lay close | effervescentwolf/@effervescentwolf | 1.5k | T

He thinks of his empty bed at home, and his chest feels tight. It’s just that—it’s okay if it’s Buck. He can let Buck catch him. give me all the bed-sharing fics, please and thank you <3 this is one of the best uses of the trope i've seen in a long time, it's so lovely <3

[shnoob]

Kurapika Kurta HC’s:

A/N: FINALLY ONTO HXH!! I have been wanting to do this for a LONG time but life got in the way, which it will again this week but I'm very excited to get this out there!  

C/W: Has both fluff and angst!

Leave any suggestions if you want to see something specific!  

Fluff:

Is one of THE best people to ask about making bracelets or anything crafty related. Due to his exterior, he seems like somebody who wouldn't care about it (in for his goals he doesn’t do them often) but back at the village, he would teach all the little kids how.  

Speaking of the village he also is probably really good about braiding hair or doing other people's hair. I can see him back then being an older figure to all the kids in the village so being that figure comes with responsibilities!! 

If you need to know any definition or any historical facts, he is your man. You’ve seen him read those books, he’s educated!! Not only does he do it for fun (and probably used those skills for the Spiders-), but for the exam to go out into the real world he found some research on the history of the outside world to get him at least some sort of idea what he was stepping into. 

Would 100% correct you if you spelled/or pronounced something wrong. If that ends up being verbal or just in his head? Depends on his mood. 9/10 it's in his head but catch him in a bad mood and he won't hesitate to mummer it under his breath.  

Yes, he is very stand-offish due to his life/profession BUT I like to believe that deep down he is a really good listener and will pay attention. I mean we can see it first season!! Sure he may not say anything once it gets to the point where he’s in York New but he does retain the information said to him and just leaves it on the back burner. 

Back on the crafty gig, he knows how to crochet and knit. Instead of buying bookmarkers to not lose his place in his book, he makes his own (when he has the time anyway). 

One of the neatest people known to mankind. Although he doesn't get the time to do it, having a clean environment makes him happy and makes him focus better. If not in a clean environment such as his room, I feel like it stresses him out to where he needs to get up and put some stuff away before he can lay down and then stress about the Spiders. 

Tea drinker!! Drinks coffee but doesn't like the taste of it. LOVESS a tea that tastes more fruity <3.  

LOVES nicknames. Giving or receiving them deep down means something to him. Especially after you give one to him, if you don't use it he’ll wonder why and get a bit disheartened :(.   

The biggest gentlemen around! Holds doors for people, always says thank you and excuse me when moving around, biggest tipper etc. An “angel from above” is the words you’d hear people using for him from strangers. It has come to the point where if he enters a coffee shop he often goes to they already know and get in such a good mood. 

Loves birds!! As a side hobby he has a collection of pictures of birds he’s taken over the years. With that, he has definitely learned some bird calls and will not hesitate to show somebody the difference between them.

(is in love with Leorio I swear!!)  

Angst: 

When he was younger, the color red was something that was noted as a good thing, and due to his clan he was so confident in his eyes. Now he cant bare to look into the mirror somedays just because of his eyes. 

With the color red, he cant stand the thought of it being his favorite color. He probably doesn't even have one after everything due to how attached he was to red and now that attachment is unhealthy. 

Seriously doesn't take care of himself. Like at all. As much as I love the fluff he wouldn't know what a healthy life looks like anymore.  

Has so much survivor's guilt (which this one is obvious but to the point where it hurts). 

A lot of people say that he doesnt care about his friends bu he definitely does. In fact I say that he lives in a detachment type style. Due to his deep rage and focus it makes him feel that being away from everybody he cares about is the right thing to do because he cant let anybody else get hurt and theres no time to be doing things he enjoys most. By this though, he feels those surges of guilt by not keeping in touch; but now its been so long without talking to them the guilt of going back is so deep he cant bare to face them. 

When he cries most of the time he doesnt even realize. His brain just shuts down to where it doesnt register that he is upset and needs to take a minute. It doesnt help that half of the time tears dont even fall, so its just a emotional block. 

Will never be able to commit to a romantic situation but still dreams of it :(.

[razorblade180]

Take a bow!

[Hotel Debord]

Lyney:Tadah! Magic!

A very familiar phrase accompanied by a flock of pigeons taking flight from a deck of cards. Applause from his dear friends, new and old, were all around him at Furina’s tea party.

Furina:Bravooo!

Navia:One of these days I’m going to find out how you do it.

Clorinde:Pretty sure that ruins the fun.

Lyney:I welcome her to try. It would only mean I’d need to even more crafty.

Lynette:I don’t really think that’s possible anymore.

Lyney:What’s that supposed to mean!?

Wriothesley:This certainly is the liveliest tea party I’ve ever seen. Almost feels like I should be paying for the show.

Lynette:*opens hand*

Neuvillette:I do believe he was joking.

Lynette:Oh I know, but if he’s willing…

Wriothesley:I can pay you in my dessert.

Lynette:That works.

Furina:H-Hey! I wouldve kept the slice if you didn’t want it.

Chiori:As if either of you need another slice of cake. At this rate both of you will end up having to pay me if you want keep those clothes.

Chevreuse:Lighten up. I eat whatever I like and I’m fine.

Everyone:You’re a special case….

Emilie:You’ll run off those calories before your body even realizes it’s eaten them.

Chevreuse:All of you can accomplish that too. *bites chicken* mind over matter and all that.

Everyone: “And all that” she say

Navia:Hehe, maybe has a magic trick for that too.

Lynette:Unfortunately…no

Lyney:It’s called a balanced meal and intake

Furina:Pfft, perhaps you should add comedian to your routine.

Charlotte:Honestly that might be kinda interesting.

Sigewinne:Although with you recently adding Freminet… I don’t see that in the future.

Freminet:Stand up is far beyond me. Although…there is a magic trick I’ve been working on. *red* I…I would actually like to try it now.

Lyney:Oh!? By all means, the crowd is yours!

Lynette:Lyney! Don’t freak him out.

Freminet:It’s alright. I got this.

He stands up and begins walking up, passing his brother on the way. Freminet could tell just how excited Lyney was about this. He faced his friends. Funny, Freminet never imagined having so many. Seeing them all calmed his nerves as grabbed a long table cloth from a pile of props Lyney and Lynette had put out for this casual show among friends. Freminet cleared his throat.

Freminet:Ladies and gentlemen. I, The Fantastic Freminet-

Navia, Lyney and Lynette:Awwww

Freminet:*blushing* Will attempt to make a person disappear!

Everyone:Oooooo~

Charlotte:Can’t go wrong with a classic.

Lyney:Umm, that’s a tall order. I was thinking you were about to make a chair vanish or a trick with Per. Don’t you need an assistant?

Freminet:Yes, I do. In secret I’ve practiced this particular trick. I’m not as good as you or Lynette but I’ve tried adding my own touch to it. Now then, may my assistant please step forward?

Everyone looked at one another, seeing who was about to stand up. However, all of them were just as puzzled. That’s when they heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, their eyes shifted to the right and they all let out a surprise gasp before following it with a bittersweet smile. Approaching from the right was none other than Aether and Paimon wearing a similar smile alongside a couple of fully packed traveling bags.

I a couple seconds of silence filled the space before Chiori began to clap for the two assistance, snapping everyone out of their thoughts and adding to the applause as the travelers stood beside Freminet.

Freminet:I take it these two need no introduction?

Neuvillette:You can say that again.

Furina:And here I was wondering why I never got a response from you about my generous invitation. How cheeky of you.

Aether:We prefer…dramatic.

Furina:Hmm, *smiles* hats off to you.

Freminet:Would either assist like to say a few words before we start.

Paimon:….*tearing up*

Emilie:Aww, *smiles* “allergies?”

Paimon:Hehe, yep! It’s fine though! I…I have no words.

Wriothesley:That’s surp-

Clorinde:*elbows him* Aether? Any comments?

Aether:Honestly…I’m sorta afraid I might start talking a little too much if I’m not careful. A magic trick was one of the first things I witnessed in Fontaine, and it lead to so, so much more than I can imagine. What can I say? I’m happy to be apart of the show.

Lyney:*sniffles*…We’re glad to welcome you on stage.

Lynette:Anytime.

Freminet:*hanging up cloth* Now then, just as a reminder…it’s a disappearing act. As for reappearing…I haven’t gotten the hang of that.

Chevreuse:Don’t sweat it. I think I can speak for everyone when I say no matter how long it takes, I’m sure these two will reappear like magic.

Aether: Couldn’t have said it better myself. Freminet?

Freminet:Ready.

Aether and Paimon look at everyone one more time. Furina locks eyes with the golden hair adventurer as she stands up. Without a word, she bows politely. The rest of their friends follow suit, performing a bow before the two. Aether and Paimon could only smile gently as they finally bow back. It truly has been quite the show. With nothing else to do, they walk behind the sheet.

Freminet:Let’s count down from ten, then I’ll tear down the sheet.

Everyone: Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five..four….three…..two……one………farewell.

Freminet pulls down the sheet. Sure enough, the two wonderful assistants were gone. Freminet took his seat again, silently putting on his helmet. Immediately his siblings gently hugged him for such a moving performance. As much as anyone wanted to clap, nobody did. Instead, silence was broken by the sound of light rain hitting the windows of the hotel. Furina couldn’t help but chuckle as she glanced at Neuvillette.

Furina:Come now, new beginnings should be met with celebrations and clear skies. Nothing less than a standing ovation.

Neuvillette:You are right, Lady Furina. However…ideals like that are clearly difficult to uphold. *pulls out handkerchief*

Furina:Pfft, whatever do you mean? *takes it* I’m still new at controlling my Vision.

Navia:*wiping eyes* Hehe, I’m surprised you didn’t ask for one last photo.

Charlotte:It crossed my mind, but even I know how to read the room. Honestly I think my hands would’ve been too shaky. Beside…*smiles* we can all take one together later, when those two reappear like magic.

[robbie-lee-zombie]

mini ficlet I got inspired to do ( @fluffymary )

When the gang of smiling critters have a sleepover, you better believe they go big or go home.

Kickin was the first to pass out after the movie, hanging halfway off the couch at the start, but eventually slumped to the floor at an odd angle and still hadn't stirred. Crafty and Bearhug aren't far behind as they both yawn, drifting off on the far left of the couch, holding onto one another. Hoppy, Bubba and Piggy were huddled in their own pile on the other end, looking uncomfortable to anyone else but snoring all the while.

What about our final two?

One of our sweet little friends was having a horrible dream. Horrible enough to leave him panting when he awoke, checking around the living room frantically for any monsters that might still be lurking in the dark. Dogday knew he was being silly, but it still got to him, he just knew something was coming for him! Something waiting to come out and grab him, something to steal him away and no one would ever find him again-

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Look at me. Just keep your eyes on me, okay, pup?"

One, a night owl, someone who sleeps in the day because he guards the night. He protects his family, his friends, while they're vulnerable, so they have nothing to fear. Right now, his closest friend - his partner - had something to fear. Catnap couldn't have that.

"I couldn't run away- it hurt so much, Catnap-"

"Shh, shshh I know sunspot, you don't have to explain. I'm here. You're safe here."

A few beats of silence pass. Then, Catnap got an idea.

"I got it." Catnap lifts Dogday's chin to look him in the eyes more clearly. Smiling, sweetly, he whispers. "You want to hear a lullaby?"

Immediately Dogday's face starts to feel hot and he's pulling on his right ear, twirling and picking at the fur in a nervous fidget. His tail starts thumping behind him. "You- What if- You don't have to, I'll be-" Dogday whines a little. Embarrassed. Excited. Eager.

"Let me try that again."

Dogday's sputtering was immediately halted by Catnap's purring. He could feel it in his touch, in his paws any time he held Dogday's cheeks in his hands, it was a soft rumbling under the skin. It was soothing. "May I sing you a lullaby, sweet pup?"

Dogday willed his tail to stop wagging for a moment to respond seriously. He nodded. "Yes. Please."

Their positions are shifted to have Dogday leaning on Catnap's chest, slouching comfortably in case he were to fall asleep sooner than anticipated, which Cat had already dubbed in his mind would be no time at all. Dogday's tail wags without his permission, but neither of them mention it.

Catnap's claws make quick work of Dogday's ears, scratching at the base. Enough to tickle, enough to squirm and smile so wide Dogday's cheeks start to hurt, but not enough to laugh. Meanwhile, Catnap's tail traces along each of Dogday's toes that are tucked under the blankets. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star~"

Dogday knew what lullaby this was. It's kept between them purely for Dogday's dignity and from dying of embarrassment. Not because they'd tickle the life out of him.

"How I wonder what you are~"

But because of how well it works. Plus, Catnap isn't the first one to go around bragging about his own singing voice as it is, he'd never hear the end of it.

"Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky~"

"Wahahait!!"

"Dogday, you made me mess up the song, now I'll have to start over..."

"No! Nonononohoho don't stahahart over, please-" "Well, maybe I won't have to start over... If you can tell me where my tail left off?"

"Y-Your tahahail?"

"Yes, giggle pup, I need to know where my tail was on the last verse, so I can pick up where it left off. I can't recall..."

As Catnap whispers aloud, his tail sweeps up and down Dogday's soles. Dogday throws his head side to side, trying his best to keep his giggling to a minimum, but the faster that appendage swipes, the more restless Dogday gets.

"Was it along your soles, those bright suns on your feet? While we said "Up above the world" or was it-" His tail switches to sliding between his toes. "Between your poor little toes, as we said "Like a diamond in the sky"?"

Catnap knows this. Catnap loves this.

Dogday could hardly pay attention as Catnap's tail was sawing between his toes. Before he was even aware of his own actions, Dogday was squeezing one of Catnap's hands in his own, bracing himself on whatever willpower he had to not fight Catnap's attack. The other hand was frantic, pawing at the ground, his own torso in a self hug, hiding his face, he couldn't decide what made it better worse.

"Dihihiamond!! You were on diamohohohond!!!"

"Ah, that's right! Thank you so much, my little tickle pup, I knew I could count on you~"

As much as the lullaby felt like it droned on for hours, it really was helping. It was quiet enough between the two of them that this moment never had to be seen by anyone else, it was a special time that let them hold onto one another, to laugh away the nightmares. Catnap's song was eventually interjected with his red smoke - with Dogday's consent being the agreement to the lullaby in the first place, they established that ages ago.

That's what really knocks Dogday out, but Catnap likes to wait as long as he can to use it, just to savor in Dogday's bright smile and pink face just a little while longer.

"A pretty orange and pink sunrise, just for me alone."

As the sun rises in the windows through the curtains, Catnap finally falls asleep.

[zedecksiew]

What Do Ability Scores Represent?

Recently, Into The Odd and the players in my home game helped me realise something fundamental:

Ability scores represent how good you are at acting under pressure.

STR isn't strength, it's toughness;

DEX really means reflexes;

WIS is more accurately calm or willpower;

etc.

+++

It is convention in roleplaying games that your ability scores / attributes / six stats determine who your character is.

High DEX means your character is spry, capable of acrobatic flourish; a good Willpower generally means you can browbeat others / themselves / reality (if you are spellcaster) into doing what they want; etc.

There is pleasure in looking at a sheet and seeing: Oh! These are the things my character is good at.

But you do run into problems. Does my 18 DEX rogue know they are fleeter than the 17 DEX bard? What if my wizard thinks she is stronger than her 10 STR? What if I have a brilliant scheme but my barbarian only has 9 INT?

How well, in other words, does the map represent the territory?

+++

(Art by Vesha, who is an illustrator! source)

I've got three players in my home game:

Vesha plays the teenaged trader Khabar (and his buffalo friend / parent-figure, Paal);

Amanda plays the monkey warrior Boots-Ra, now going white-furred;

Aish plays Captain Phung.

Phung does not yet own a proper sea-going vessel. Perhaps he lost his previous ship? Perhaps he never had one. (He does have a magic five-person sampan, though!)

He is impulsive. He tends to make dodgy deals with hapless village-folk, pick up dangerous-looking objects, and flirt with dangerous-looking men.

+++

Mechanics-wise, here's how my interactions with Aish / Phung tend to go:

Me: Okay, make a DEX save to duck before the hunter stabs you. Aish: Damn, my DEX is only 6, guess we'll see ... Amanda: Oh, no, Phung!

In a previous session:

Me: Okay, I think I'll call for a WIL save, because the ghost in the goat skull is trying to possess you. Aish: Well, my WIL is 5, hopefully this works out ... Vesha: Oh shit, Phung!

Some sessions back:

Me: The automaton shoves you. Make a STR save? Otherwise you'll be on the ground at its mercy. Aish: Guys I have 6 STR, I may be in trouble here. Me: Wait wait wait. What are your stats again?

So it turns out that Aish had terrible rolls at chargen. STR 6 DEX 6 WIL 5. Just going by ability scores, Phung is an idiot weakling.

+++

Thing is, Phung isn't an idiot weakling.

I've got crafty players; they are pretty good at cooking up multi-part schemes. (Their go-to tactic is bamboozling rival factions to show up at the same place, then benefit from the fallout.)

Phung is generally the face for whatever racket they've got going: he's the most obvious leader (the party is generally "Captain Phung and crew"), and Aish plays him as a capable, charismatic go-getter.

Looking at the character sheet, is Aish playing Phung wrong?

Fuck that. A player cannot play their own character wrong. I reject this notion outright.

What's going on?

+++

Different rulesets try to bridge the gaps between player action, character ability, and abstract math in different ways: eliminating mental attributes; going totally skill-based; etc.

The ruleset that comes closest to "solving" this, for me, is Into The Odd.

Saves are the only kind of test player-characters make, in ITO and its derivatives. This is key.

The ruleset assumes competency on the part of characters; you only go to the dice if you need to figure out stuff that is out of your control.

How badly a straight-up fight goes; whether you can jump aside in time if you've accidentally sprung a trap; whether you can improvise a lie on the fly.

+++

Implicitly, and in practice:

The STR stat in ITO is more accurately toughness---ie: how well you can withstand a physically demanding situation you didn't prepare for.

Ditto DEX, which is an abstraction for how quickly your reflexes trigger.

Same with WIL, which is how well you stay calm under duress.

I can be sharp when I've got time and it is a subject I have experience in. But suddenly ask me to make a speech and I'm toast (low INT).

Some folks have no martial arts training but can hold their own if a brawl breaks out in a bar (high STR).

Captain Phung is a pretty cool operator when he's in control, but tends to seize up when things go off the rails (low WIL).

There's my answer to the conundrum of Captain Phung: he's a genuinely capable guy. He's just not necessarily great under stress. His reach exceeds his grasp, sometimes.

+++

Your ability scores don't represent who your character is. Your ability scores represent who your character is, when under duress.

In other words:

Ability scores are who your character is when they are not in control. Ability scores are your character's reactions.

+++

I do feel slow on the uptake, for only grokking this now.

Chris McDowall probably has a post from the mid 2010s or something where he discusses this aspect design in detail, the clever genius bastard. It is probably internalised play-culture within the ITO-and-descendants community; Emms points out that the current edition of Mothership explicitly talks about stats in this way.

Still!

Am glad to have a regular TTRPG group again, and I have them to thank for my epiphany!

(They are kickass. I ran them through Whirling Mummy a while back and it was a RIOT)