#I still have no idea how you're supposed to solve this puzzle

[rawliverandgoronspice]

For one of the shrine overworld puzzles I made a bridge out of 20 Zonai sleds. It worked!

national hero, I tried to make a 10 hard lava bridge to shortcut my way through the Fire Temple and I watched it crumble to pieces and into the lava so, so so many times :(

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.4

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshina Soshiro.

pt.3 - pt.5

--

Hoshina's pov:

The next morning dawned with a sense of relief, the events of the previous night fading into memory. Mina and I shared a quiet breakfast together, the gossip about our supposed relationship the subject of much amusement.

"I can't believe people actually believe those rumors," Mina chuckled, sipping her coffee. "As if I would ever go for someone like you."

I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging her shoulder. "Hey, watch it. You're lucky to have me."

We laughed, the tension of the past evening dissipating in the light of day. Despite the rumors, Mina and I had always been nothing more than friends, comrades in arms against the kaiju threat.

After breakfast, we headed to a reunion with the defense force to discuss the increasing number of kaiju attacks. The meeting was tense, the atmosphere charged with urgency as we debated strategies and tactics. Gen Narumi, captain of the first division, was as stoic as ever, his gaze piercing as he addressed the group.

"We're facing an unprecedented threat," he began, his voice commanding attention. "The kaiju attacks are escalating, and we need to be prepared for anything."

He paused, glancing around the room before continuing. "That's why I've been working on a secret project, one that I believe could turn the tide in our favor. I've recruited a new member to our ranks, someone with unique abilities that could prove invaluable in our fight against the kaiju."

Murmurs of curiosity rippled through the room as Narumi revealed his secret weapon. "Her name is Habina Chisuka" he explained, his expression grave. "She was once a human like us, but she was transformed into a kaiju. I've been training her, studying her abilities, in the hopes of unlocking the secrets of her transformation. We still don't know how or why it happened to her, she doesn't have any recolection of that night, however we have her under observation to try figure it out this occurrence.”

As Narumi spoke, I felt a sense of unease settle over me. The idea of using a transformed human as a weapon was unsettling, to say the least. How was that even possible. But Narumi was convinced that Chisuka held the key to understanding the kaiju threat, and I trusted his judgment implicitly.

"She's here with us today," Narumi continued, his gaze sweeping the room. "But she remains anonymous, her true identity hidden from all but a select few. I ask that you respect her privacy and treat her with the same respect you would any member of our team."

I nodded, the weight of Narumi's words sinking in. Habina Chisuka was a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved. And as the meeting came to a close, I couldn't shake the feeling that her presence would change everything. Using a kaiju as a soldier.

Later that evening, as I sat alone in my office, the events of the day played over in my mind. Chisuka Hibino was a wildcard, a variable that could tip the scales in our favor—or lead to our downfall.

--

Mina and I sat in the quiet of our shared quarters, the events of the day weighing heavily on our minds. As we sipped our tea, a tense silence settled between us, broken only by the occasional clink of our cups.

Finally, Mina spoke, her voice low and cautious. "This all Habina Chisuka situation doesn't seem right to me."

I nodded, knowing exactly what was on her mind. "I know. It's hard to trust someone we know so little about."

Mina leaned forward, her gaze intense. "But what if she's not who she says she is? What if she's a kaiju in disguise, manipulating us for her own purposes?"

The thought sent a chill down my spine, but I couldn't deny the possibility. "It's a risk we can't afford to ignore. We need to find out the truth about her, no matter what."

Mina nodded, her expression determined. "Agreed. But how do we do that? Gen trusts her implicitly, and he won't take kindly to us questioning her."

I frowned, knowing she was right. Gen Narumi had put his faith in this Chisuka, and questioning her loyalty would be seen as a betrayal. But if there was even a chance that she posed a threat to us, we couldn't afford to ignore it.

"We'll have to be subtle," I said, thinking aloud. "We'll need to gather information, find out who she is, about her past and her abilities. If she truly is who she says she is, then she won't have anything to hide."

Mina nodded, her expression grim. "Agreed. Although, if she's under Narumi's watch, it can be difficult to track her down. But if I could have something from Narumi, we can know where she is and keep an eye on her, watching for any signs of suspicious behavior. And if we find anything, we'll confront her and demand answers. Kill her if needed."

I felt a surge of determination, knowing that we couldn't afford to let our guard down.

--

Narumi's pov:

The soft glow of the streetlights cast long shadows across the quiet street as I made my way to Chisuka's apartment. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, and I knew that I needed to speak with her before the situation escalated any further.

As I reached her building, I hesitated for a moment before knocking on her door. The sound of footsteps approached, and soon Chisuka stood before me, her expression guarded but curious.

"Narumi," she greeted, her voice soft with surprise. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"I wanted to speak with you, Chisuka," I replied, offering her a small smile. "May I come in?"

She nodded, stepping aside to let me enter. The apartment was small and sparsely furnished, a testament to Chisuka's solitary existence. I followed her inside, taking a seat on the worn couch.

"I wanted to talk to you about the reunion we discussed earlier," I began, my tone serious. "We may need you in battle soon, and I wanted to prepare you for what's to come, we had the reunion today, we announced your presence in our team to the other divisions, we have been training for 3 years now, and with the increase of kaiju attacks and stronger kaijus appearing, you'll need to make you debut, you need to know what it's like on the battlefield."

Chisuka's expression darkened, a shadow crossing her features. "I understand, Captain. I'll be ready."

I studied her for a moment, sensing her sadness and unease. "Is everything alright, Chisuka? You seem… troubled."

Chisuka hesitated, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. "It's nothing, Captain. Just… personal issues."

I reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You can talk to me, Chisuka. I'm here to help."

Her walls began to crumble, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. "It's just… I saw Soshiro at the bar tonight, and it messed with my head, with everything, it's just...I need to move on anyway, he even has a girlfriend now."

My heart clenched at her words, a surge of protectiveness rising within me. "I'm sorry, Chisuka. I didn't realize…"

Chisuka shook her head, trying to push aside the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. "It's fine, Captain. I'll deal with it."

We sat on the floor, her couch holding our backs, only a small light from an old chandelier lighted the room, I made conversation with her, trying to distract her from the pain she revealed to me. But I could still see the pain in her eyes, the lingering hurt from her encounter with Soshiro. Without thinking, I leaned in closer, my lips hovering just inches from hers.

"Chisuka…" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide with uncertainty. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to offer her the comfort she so desperately needed.

But as our lips drew closer, I hesitated, a voice whispering in the back of my mind that this wasn't right, that I was crossing a line I shouldn't.

With a shaky breath, Chisuka pulled away, her eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry, Narumi. I can't…"

I nodded, my own heart heavy with disappointment. "It's alright, Chisuka. I shouldn't have…"

She reached out, placing a hand on my arm. "Thank you, Narumi. For everything."

As I rose to leave, I couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered in the air between us. But I knew that I needed to respect Chisuka's boundaries, to give her the space she needed to heal.

And as I watched her disappear into the depths of her apartment, I couldn't help but wonder what has gotten into me, feeling guilty for making her unconfortable...I'm sorry Chisuka.

--

-flashback-

The battlefield was chaos. Smoke and debris filled the air, the roar of kaiju and the shouts of our comrades blending into a cacophony of war. I was leading my team in a desperate defense against a particularly relentless kaiju when a new, unexpected threat emerged from the shadows.

It was unlike any kaiju we had faced before. Its form was humanoid, almost graceful, with a mixture of sleek, alien-like armor and raw, exposed muscle. Its eyes, however, held an intelligence that set it apart from the mindless beasts we were used to fighting.

I engaged it cautiously, my attacks probing for weaknesses. But it quickly became clear that this kaiju was different. It moved with purpose, almost as if it were trying to communicate.

Suddenly, the creature stopped fighting and held up a clawed hand, a gesture that seemed almost… human.

"Please," it spoke, its voice resonating in our minds rather than through the air. "I am not your enemy. My name is Y/N L/N."

I froze, disbelief and confusion etched on my face. A talking kaiju? This had to be some kind of trick.

"Why should I believe you?" I demanded, keeping my blade at the ready.

The kaiju, Y/N, shifted her form, her features softening and becoming more human-like. Slowly, painfully, she began to transform. Before our eyes, the monstrous exterior melted away, revealing a young woman with tear-filled eyes.

"Because I was human once," she said, her voice trembling. "And I need your help. Please, I'm not a threat."

The sincerity in her eyes, the desperation in her voice—it was enough to give me pause. Lowering my weapon, I approached her cautiously. "Alright. I'll help you. But you need to come with us."

Y/N nodded, relief flooding her features. "Thank you."

In the weeks that followed, I didn't know what approach to have, I was still suspicious of her, although, how could a kaiju be so human. But over time, her genuine desire to aid me became evident. She began her training with me, shared her knowledge of kaiju behavior, and proved her loyalty time and time again.

During this period, I grew closer to Y/N, now named Habina Chisuka. We spent long hours discussing strategy, her insights often proving invaluable. Despite the initial awkwardness, a camaraderie began to form between us.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, I found Chisuka sitting alone on the roof of the base. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city below.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, approaching her with a small smile.

She glanced up, surprised, then nodded. "Of course, Captain."

I sat beside her, the silence between us comfortable. "You've come a long way, Chisuka. I'm glad you're with us."

She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Captain. It's been… difficult, but I'm grateful for the chance to prove myself."

A few days later, we offered Chisuka a small apartment near the base, the girl had spent the last years of her life jumping from bench to bench, our working long hours for no money, just to be given a warm bed. But now, she did have a place she could call her own. I wanted her to feel as much a part of our team as anyone else, and a private space seemed like a good step towards that.

That night, I couldn't resist checking on her. I knocked softly on her door, and after a moment, she opened it, her eyes red and puffy.

"Chisuka, are you alright?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.

She tried to smile, but it wavered. "Yes, Captain. I just… I didn't expect this. A place of my own. It's… overwhelming."

I stepped inside, glancing around the modest apartment. It was sparsely furnished, just a bed, a small table, and a chair, but it was more than she had ever hoped for since her transformation. "You deserve it, Chisuka. You've earned my trust and my friendship."

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Thank you. For everything. I never thought I'd feel welcome again, let alone have a place to call home."

Without thinking, I pulled her into a gentle embrace. "You're one of us now, Chisuka. We're here for you."

She clung to me, sobbing softly against my chest. I could feel her trembling, the weight of her emotions pouring out after being bottled up for so long. "It's been so hard," she whispered. "I lost everything. My family, my friends, my life. And now… now I have this."

Her words broke my heart. I tightened my embrace, trying to offer her some semblance of comfort. "I can't imagine what you've been through, Chisuka. But I promise you, you're not alone anymore. We'll face this together."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know how to thank you, Captain. You've given me more than I ever thought possible."

I wiped away her tears, offering her a reassuring smile. "Just keep fighting alongside us. That's all the thanks I need."

She nodded, a small, grateful smile breaking through her sorrow. "I will. I promise."

As we stood there, the bond between us strengthened, forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by shared pain. Habina Chisuka was more than just a weapon in our fight against the kaiju—she was a valued member of my team, and someone I came to want to protect with my life.

In the days that followed, Chisuka began to settle into her new life. She joined me in training sessions, her kaiju abilities proving to be an invaluable asset. She shared her insights on kaiju behavior, helping us to develop new strategies and tactics. And slowly but surely, she began to find her place among us.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, I found myself once again at Chisuka's apartment. She had invited me for dinner, a gesture of gratitude that eventually become something regular for us.

As we sat at the small table, sharing a simple meal, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Chisuka was smiling, a genuine smile that reached her eyes, and for the first time since we had met, she seemed at peace.

"Thank you for this, Chisuka," I said, raising my glass in a toast. "To new beginnings."

She clinked her glass against mine, her smile widening. "To new beginnings."

As we talked and laughed, I realized just how far she had come. From a kaiju on the battlefield to a trusted member of my team, Habina Chisuka had found her place among us. And I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

Because over time, I saw her as a priority, she would be under my protection 24/7.

[seismologically-silly]

Puzzlemaster Week 1 Recap

we've got lore

Last week started with @puzz1e-master sending a very cryptic message to @potato-lord-but-not. As a result, I, @cr0w-z, @ichorandseafoam, @pandaragons, @willwoodwithadditionalgrapejuice, @get-your-fuckin-star-bitch, and @fruit-c4ke were dubbed "The Involvements" by Puzzlemaster as we became the most involved in helping Potato Lord solve the puzzles. Obviously we are not the only ones, but we are by far the most annoying about it (i say "annoying" affectionately. who knows what Puzzlemaster thinks of us).

The first message was fairly easy, spelling out YOU ARE CLOSE in letters capitalized in the first message. The second riddle took us much longer-- we had to figure out what different colored words meant in a question. The question is still unanswered, but all the colors were accounted for: green = involvements, yellow = Potato Lord, pink = nothing important, black = mystery, red = Puzzlemaster, and purple = power. The question asked was, "The Watchers only Watch, why do the Victims have to Speak?" Helping us solve the colors, Puzzlemaster sent a few of us asks with clues spelling THE ROYALS HAVE ALL THE POWER.

As we were solving the colors, Potato Lord got a new ask, with text originally in Morse code in uppercase:

Aaaaannddddd…go! ALRIGHT, SO I WAS THINKING, Mhm? THE PUZZLEMASTER, WHAT DO ...... YOU THINK HIS DEAL? I'm not sure really. Maybe he just likes doing this? Messing about? I mean… THINK HE IS WEB? Could be. Not really sure though. A little early to speculate really. IS ONLY THE BEGINNING? Seems so. I mean, it's always a larger picture than we think- Oh. You're almost past the halfway. LIKE CAUGHT IN WEB ...... SO SMALL, COMPARING BIG Suppose so. Yeah. What does it make us? WE LIKE TO WONDER What do you think it means? To be a victim? GIVEN SPECIAL LITTLE THING Such as? A VOICE Oh yeah, you must envy tha- Oh. Times up. They can't hear you now. I know, I know. We'll just have to wait until it rewinds.

No idea who sent this. The colors cycle evenly through the lines, except "he" is red and "victim" is orange referring to what we took a week to decode them being. it is the first thing we've seen bolded, and we haven't seen pronouns italicized before. I'll come back to the struck out "They" in a few paragraphs. That's also so far the only thing struck out.

After the colors were decoded, Potato Lord was sent a new puzzle that decoded to YOU'RE PART OF. A few of the Involvements got sent asks as well, with messages so far decoded to YOU THINK TO STOP THEIR PLAN? SOMETHING BIGGER THAN [YOU] WILL STOP THE END THEY CRAVE. Possibly. We're still likely missing some pieces. And it's been confirmed there are two messages to put together. Again, what's with the They?

A few other players have joined the board that aren't the Puzzlemaster, Potato Lord, or the Involvements. One is @the-1t, but they've been quiet for a few days, so I'm not sure how big a player they are. There's @the-r4t-man, who has been teaching Puzzlemaster how to be human by giving them rats and flirting. And there's also been the They, who do not seem to like Puzzlemaster becoming human (again?), and apparently hold power over the Puzzlemaster.

Also, something is happening on 5 August at 12:16 PM. Not sure what time zone.

The whole story so far is spread out over about a half dozen blogs and mainly in replies, so I hope this provides a good first week recap of the main bits. If anyone thinks I've missed something important, add it for the archive!

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND THREE - TWO PAIR

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a date is had.

wc: 2.5k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, some swearing, banter and dialogue driven, fake dating, pining and tension, todoroki enji jumpscare LOL

note: the two wolves living inside me is one wanting to rush the hell out of slow burn and the other telling me to make it painfully slow. however, i broke a little and made the pining a little obvious in this chapter oops. one day i will achieve the emotional release of s2 bridgerton bee sting scene. hope you enjoy !!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“Show.” 

“You first.”

“I’m royalty.”

“And I have the higher stack. Now, show,” you repeat and he scoffs, the corner of his mouth tugging upward and creasing the deep purple scars on his cheek. He turns his two cards face-up and, sure enough, you’d snatched another victory from the self-proclaimed Prince of Calculation. “I win again,” you smile and he begrudgingly pushes the pot to your side of the table, an amalgamation of garden pebbles, stray buttons, and a few gold coins you managed to produce. You were using whatever you had to gamble and the prince didn’t seem to mind. Touya, you remind yourself. You were supposed to call him by his first name throughout this whole charade, but it seemed as foreign on your tongue as a protruding third set of teeth. 

“You’re a much more dangerous woman than you give yourself credit for,” he muses with a clever glint in his eyes. Over the course of the last month or so, you’d accumulated an immunity to his unwavering stares and scalding eyes; lately, it actually seemed you found a certain affinity for his intense nature, even when you were its only target. His sweetly poisonous words were the latest test to your composure. “If we dressed you as a man for the night, we could relieve an entire club of their purses before the clock strikes ten.” His pretty fingers dealt another two cards and you peeked at them from the bottom of your vision. Queen of hearts and two of clubs. Not the best hand. 

“Hmm. How much of the pot would you use to bail me out for invading said club?” You lay out the first three cards, the flop, and flip the first over before betting a conservative amount. Four of diamonds. 

“Who ever said anything about bail? I’d just sneak you out. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” he answers, calling your bet, and you can’t tell if he’s kidding. It was another piece you were still trying to solve of the puzzle that was the prince of the Todoroki family, how he joked so casually about breaking laws and dodging authority. The nonchalance of his recklessness made your stomach turn, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or intrigue. You flip the second card of the flop. Two of hearts. A pair, if all else failed. You just had to hope he didn’t have anything either. 

“For a royal, you seem to know a concerning amount about rule breaking. Do you have any intent to corrupt me?” 

“By the end of our courtship, possibly.” Jack of diamonds. Not what you were hoping for as the third card, by any means. A flash of excitement lights up behind your opponent’s eyes, too purposeful to be genuine. You mentally added his poker tells to the never-ending list of things to figure out about him, right under the number of crimes he’s committed against the government. Tossing in a few medium-value flower petals, you’re unsurprised when he matches your bet again. 

“Our courtship which, I’ll remind you, is causing quite the stir in the ton,” you point out while revealing the turn. Seven of hearts. You try not to let your disappointment in your current hand show on your face. The prince, you notice, looks like he’s trying a little too hard to contain his excitement. “You know, I suspect they might be rooting for us.”

“That’d be a new experience for me. Never received too much support in my endeavors before.” He places a high bet and you have no choice but to match it. If you were right about him lying, you would learn something new about his poker strategy; but, if you were wrong, you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the day. You flip the river and your heart stutters. Two of diamonds. You’re careful with your next bet, knowing that three of a kind wasn’t the best or worst hand you could create. The prince, however, pushes his entire hoard into the pot with a challenge in his eyes. He was trying to force you to fold. 

You match the bet and reveal your hand. 

Two pair versus three of a kind. The prince was bluffing, and you won again.

“At least this time, you’re not alone.” The admission is obvious but still catches both of you off-guard when you say it. You’re about to apologize for being too sentimental when that unreadable look passes over his face again, sudden as a lightning strike and gone just as quickly. 

“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs, relinquishing the remaining pot of knick-knacks to you. “Though I will say, having my ass handed to me in a card game was not a part of my plan.”

“A woman with intellect is never part of a man’s plan, yet she prevails all the same,” you conclude and he hums in agreement, collecting the remaining cards and slotting them back into their box. A concerning thought occurs to you and you glance around the secluded palace courtyard with new-found suspicion. His eyes follow your own, watching you keenly in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. 

“What is it?” 

“Will the servants not whisper about a woman playing a man’s game?” 

“They will whisper that you won, and that is what matters,” he states like a well-known fact. “Why? Is something bothering you about them?” 

“No, I’m just mulling over this whole arrangement again.” You wave him off dismissively and take another sip of lemonade from your teacup. A drink which, when you’d finally agreed to meet the prince at the palace for a day, he ordered presumably because you both shared a distaste for tea. “How odd it is and how people gossip so.”

“A lady beating the prince at poker is hardly a scandal compared to what transpired last week,” he recalls with terribly-hidden amusement, breaking off a piece of scone and smearing a glob of berry preserves onto it. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Your cheeks heat when you think of the memory and you snap your fan open to cool yourself and hide your burning face. It certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, to say the least. 

“Would you like me to retrieve a stick to keep your competition at bay?” You had jokingly asked, following his distracted gaze. It was your third ball of the season and your third public appearance with the prince; both you and your co-conspirator were forced to acknowledge the increasing number of interested suitors trying to pry you away. Dances, you found, were one of the few moments where other men weren’t climbing over each other for your attention. The only problem was being forced to share breathing space with him for an extended period of time. “Your Highness, why are you glaring like that?”

“I said to stop calling me that, and I’m not glaring,” he mumbled, very obviously glaring and avoiding your eyes. His hand stiffens around your waist, making your already-awkward distance from him more uncomfortable. It didn’t take long to notice that he was a fine dancer when he was with any other partner but you, and you figured it was because being in such close proximity was not part of your agreement. You raise a skeptical eyebrow, finally making him look at you when the silence indicates your displeasure. “Pay me no mind. I am only–”

“Moping like a kicked dog, that’s what you’re doing,” you interject and, in a blink, you’re back in another standoff with his intense stare.

“I don’t recall when you gained the right to comment on my behaviors so crassly.” Your eyebrows pinch, taken aback by his sudden hostility. His eyes were always burning, like embers in a fireplace, and it felt like the longer you looked at them, the less likely you’d be able to pull away. After a few moments of staring him down, you back off with a frustrated huff. You think you feel some of the tension leave him, too. 

“If we are to keep up this ruse in a believable manner, I suggest you confide in me from time to time, especially if it causes you to act in unfavorable ways,” you state simply, your irritation obvious. 

“You know nothing of my unfavorable ways.” The venom in his voice makes your heart sink, against your own judgment. His expression doesn’t soften, but his voice does. “Trust me. It’s not your burden to bear,” he says in a low tone and goosebumps spread across your arms, despite the fabric of your gloves and the sleeves of your dress. He meets your eyes and you could have sworn his gaze flickers to the neckline of your gown, but the action, like so many of his movements, is too quick to comment on. “So, let’s keep to our sides of the street, shall we?” 

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss, letting your politely smiling face slip as the strings conclude the dance. “Enjoy the rest of the evening. I feel a bit faint.” The muscles in his jaw clenches and you turn on your heel to beeline for an exit when a strong hand grabs you by the wrist and pulls you backward. Before you can register where you’re moving, your hand is placed firmly on his forearm and you’re a split-second from slapping him when–

“Touya.” Shit. With a blank mind, you remember to curtsy from pure muscle memory, dipping deeply toward the ground while the prince bends at the waist.

“Good evening, Father.” Touya’s voice becomes empty, devoid of all sarcasm, teasing, and charm. A glance at his face tells the same tale, blank and emotionless. The only indication of his true thoughts came the slight shake in his arm and how he unconsciously tugged you closer and closer to his side. You let yourself be pulled in and your free hand moved on its own, coming to rest on top of his and running your thumb over his knuckles. He exhales shakily. “Father, this is–”

“I know who you are,” he says before you could be properly introduced, making your nostrils flare. The man besides you bristles and you wonder how such a hard-faced, stoic man could make such a reckless and carefree son. You’d never seen King Todoroki except in victory parades and newsprints of his alliance with King All Might, but you could recognize the family’s flaming eyes from miles away. You decided that, no matter how irritating the prince was, his father was lower on your ranking of the Todoroki royals. “Should you marry, are you aware of the responsibility of being the wife of a king?” 

“I believe she is called a queen, Your Majesty,” you hear yourself say before you can stop yourself. From beside you, the prince makes a noise somewhere between a choke and a snort, and you direct your attention to the floorboards in hopes of surviving the king’s scathing reply. Despite the chatter of the party around you, it feels like your words were echoing off the gilded ceilings. The reprimand, however, never comes. The king turns back to his son with a look of suppressed wrath before turning and stalking away, a crowd of nobles crowing for his attention. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he whispers in disbelief as he hurriedly guides you out of the hall and into one of the manor’s gardens, still within sight of nosy mothers but out of their earshot. Your hand hasn’t left his arm, nor has he tried to pry it off. If anything, you click into his side like a missing puzzle piece, and you’re confusingly reluctant to let go. “That was the worst possible way you could have answered that question,” the prince continues and your stomach turns. 

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” you reply with poorly masked shame, lowering your head and letting him walk ahead. Your hand detaches from his arm and you’re struck by the sudden lack of warmth. He turns sharply to look at you, looks back at his empty arm, and then back at you before closing the few feet between you. His eyes were burning into you again but he said nothing, watching you watch the blades of grass surrounding your shoes. Your voice is as quiet as the swaying summer wind. “If I have jeopardized our plan, I understand if you–”

“Stop,” he commands, and it takes a moment to register his gloved fingers under your chin, gently but firmly tilting your head to look at him. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of where his skin meets his scars and the world around you quiets. “I am…the opposite of angry with your actions.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not an easy task, talking back to my father. Yet, you performed it as easily as breathing,” he explains with a soft awe in his expression that made your breath catch in your chest. 

“I guess I’ve had good practice, countering your arguments for the better half of the summer,” you agree hesitantly. What the hell was this feeling? For whatever reason, the world around you temporarily faded to static noise and blurred paintings, with the only decipherable images being the man in front of you. “So, you’re not unhappy with my behavior around your father?”

“I have never been prouder to be seen with you,” he reassures you and you finally crack a smile, his hand leaving your face and his feet stepping back to a respectful distance. “On another note, can you recall what we were arguing about before we were interrupted?”

“I can’t, unfortunately. I believe I was about to leave you alone on the dance floor to mingle with other suitors,” you joke and, though his expression remains relaxed, his eyes darken subtly. 

“I wouldn’t let them so much as breathe in your direction,” he declares, your breath becoming stuck in your lungs again. “Plus, you were saying that you required a stick to fight them off.”

“I did not say I required a stick,” you counter, lightheartedly bumping your shoulder against his while you make your way back into the manor. He merely smiles, a rare, genuine smile. “Though, I would like to apologize for my brash observations.” 

“You are forgiven.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, following him to the refreshments table.

“And…”

“Nevermind,” you backtrack, but he continues nonetheless.

“As reparation for insinuating that I act like an abused animal–”

“Which you do,” you retort quietly and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Next week, you will accompany me in receiving a visiting ally prince,” he says. “As it would be dreadfully boring to do alone and you, thankfully, bruised my ego, I will be dragging you with me on his guided tour of the kingdom’s market district.” 

“Must I really attend?”

“Who’s acting like the kicked dog now?” He smirks and you have no choice but to go along with his plan. Now, after several rounds of beating his royal ass in poker, it was time for you to leave and prepare for the social night between the Takami and Todoroki kingdoms. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[izel-scribbles]

May we get the the villain monologue please 🥺

since you asked so nicely, of course you may, dear anon <3

fair warning, this has been festering in my notes app for months now lol. no guarantees on quality

The fallen angel paces the lectern. His white robe is muddy at the hem, stained with blood from the cultists. 

"You know, I used be God's right hand man."

His tone is casual, conversational. Completely wrong for the subject. 

"He would ask for my advice in everything. I was the one who suggested that humans should have eyes, to behold the beautiful world." He sighs with the memory of an old friend. 

"The Christians say that God created humans in His image. They're wrong. God's grandeur is beyond words."

You nod breathlessly. 

"We created the Earth together. But He never trusted me to create humans with Him. Sure, I could give him ideas every now and then, but I was never allowed the joy of creation of such a complex, marvelous being."

"I invented the first disease. I wanted to see if God's creations were truly as clever as He'd claimed. And a clever lot you were." 

Lucifer's eyes slide to you, the soulless gray-blue reflected in the storm clouds outside. 

"God was angry with me. I had gone against His will, but that freedom is something I seek to this day. I also made some of the animals that you humans hate. My personal favorite was the rat. Intelligent, wily, resourceful. 

"That was when I created the first alternate. I was trying to improve God's original design of humans, but there was something I didn't get quite right. In any case, I placed my alternate on Noah's ark. That was the real reason for the floods.  God had intended to exterminate my alternates."

Lucifer laughs mirthlessly. 

"His plans didn't work.

After that incident, I was cast down from Heaven. Like nothing more than a tool, old and worn and useless." The last few words are filled with such fury, and resentment, and pain. 

"God replaced me with another angel. The same angel whose face I take now."

Gabriel- Lucifer - gazes at you, his wicked smile not yet stretching into the alternate form.

"But... Why are you telling me all this?" You ask, baffled and still processing. 

"Because, my dove, you puzzle me. Why do you seek out my alternates? Why do you not cower with the fear of your brethren? It's been a long time since I've had a proper riddle to solve." 

"Oh." You're not quite sure how to respond. 

"So, tell me. What is it about you that attracts my creations? Why do they allow you to get so close?"

You think for a moment, looking away from his cold, piercing stare. You fiddle with your hands. There's blood crusted beneath your fingernails, a fact that doesn't bother you as much as it should,, considering it's not your own. 

---

it's pretty short, ik, sorry to disappoint

this was supposed to be part of a long-suffering wip: self-destructive artist reader who is obsessed with capturing the likeness of alternates x gabriel. it kind of got shifted to the back burner due to my very obvious tma and malevolent hyperfixations lol

i'll probably work on it more and try to get at least one chapter published :)

[henrikvanderhussy]

Okay, we've gotta talk about The Silent Spy. I didn't remember much about it before replaying, and you never really see anyone calling it their favorite game, so I knew it wasn't going to be great, but I was still disappointed.

Similar to The Shattered Medallion, which I talked about here, I do think there's a GOOD game in there somewhere, but it's bogged down in some really messy structural problems.

Those problems are also very similar to MED's problems, which makes sense since MED was the next release after SPY. Just like in MED, the character interactions were all over the fucking place. I felt like I had the same conversation with each character about 12 times. Asking Moria "What was the Colony operation?" I dunno Nancy, maybe you could have figured it out from the newspaper article, the archives database, the info from every other character, or the papers at the cabin. And it feels like this is something that would have been relevant way earlier in the game.

But then at the same time, there are these bizarre jumps where it seems like you've missed conversations. We're asking Ewan if we should trust Alec when we've never even talked to Ewan about Alec before and there's no reason they should know each other.

Speaking of feeling like I missed stuff, the poem was the worst. "I need the full color copy of my mom's Jabberwocky poem" Girl, what Jabberwocky poem?? Apparently it was in Nancy's luggage, but the luggage gets stolen immediately when you start the game and we have no idea what's inside of it. She briefly says something to Alec about a poem, but that was after Nancy already noted she needed it to solve a puzzle.

Also similar to MED, there was such a weird manufactured sense of urgency. I was soooo very frustrated by the tests set by Revenant. I got the first call and thought "hmm, not sure what choice I want to make. I'll poke around at some other things first and then decide if I want to follow their instructions or not." Then all of a sudden I get a call saying that I've failed their test.

How was I supposed to know there was a time limit? What was the time limit based on anyway? Was it a literal amount of real-world time? Did I trigger another plot point in the game that ended the window? Hell if I know

The result is that you're left feeling like things could end or change at any moment and you have to do them quickly, but also simultaneously feeling as if it doesn't matter since obviously the game will continue anyway if you miss anything time-sensitive.

A weird combo of both stressed and 'eh fuck it'. Thanks I hate it.

This post is getting longer than I planned, but here's the thing, I actually think these problems could have been addressed with a really simple fix: Let Nancy sleep.

If the call from Revenant says "you have until midnight to give us what we want," then the player knows that if they want to follow the instructions, they need to do it before sending Nancy to bed.

If all of that weirdness in character conversations was because I was talking to characters and doing things out of the intended order, then structure the game so that certain things need to happen before you can go to bed ("I can't sleep yet, I have to xyz!"). Then make it so other actions can't happen until the next day. VOILA, problem solved.

You still want the structure to be somewhat loose to allow the player to explore, and so not everything should be confined to specific days, but it would allow linearity in the things that do need to be linear.

Nancy has a hotel room! There's already a bed and everything! It would have been simple to put in a sleep mechanic, just like in so many of the other games.

Look, I'm not a game designer, so I'm definitely speaking more confidently than I have any right to, but I just feel like the problems in The Silent Spy are fixable! And I really wish they had been fixed!

[marenwithanm]

Well, if you're giving me the chance @telemna-hyelle , I might as well spice it up this time with some ✨memes✨

(ask game is based on @bllaaaaarrgh 's post about each lu link's competency level based on their ability to play their games)

For this I will tag @literallink :) ♥️

Sky: does not have the hand-eye coordination or spacial reasoning for any of this he's stuck in an area you're not supposed to get stuck in bc he forgot he can look up. Someone help him lol

Wild: very good with fights and shrines, and he enjoys them, but with literally everything else he gets choice paralysis and gives up.

Twilight: so... The portal kind of left him behind. Yeah he's still in ordon village. He's not complaining cuz he likes it there, but whoopsie lol (in fact I have not gotten past the opening to twilight princess)

Warrior: (haven't actually played og Hyrule warriors, but the gameplay is practically identical to age of calamity so we're going with that.) Warriors is just utterly flawless in combat. He can pull of combos, kill all enemies quickly, you name it. He says this is all fair and square, but it's really just universal favoritism (hw's combat is way easier than traditional Zelda games')

Wind: poor guy has even less coordination than sky. At least sky can jump gaps without veering to the side out of nowhere and missing entirely. He's alright at fighting, but it's pretty clear he's just flailing around and hoping it hits something (spam pressing b)

Time: my guy simply cannot swim. He just can't, it doesn't work out for him. Otherwise he's chilling. Give him a sword and a shield and he's practically untouchable

Legend: dies nearly as often as Hyrule, but doesn't have convenient restore point abilities like Hyrule so it sucks a little bit more. Not only that, but poor guy is constantly lost at all times, he's got no idea where he is or how to solve this puzzle girl help (admittedly, I'm pretty good with oracle games and albw, but I'm horrendous at alttp and triforce heros so I went with the funnier option)

Four: he is so incredibly slow. He has to think so so hard about each move he makes because (Maren played minish cap on an emulator on her phone and the buttons are all touchscreen and therefore so easy to press the wrong one) the colors are constantly wrestling for control in the middle of battle. He's pushing through it, his 3 bottles of lon lon milk help, but it's a struggle to move beyond glacier speeds.

(cw: depiction of injury)

Hyrule: has died during every single battle, BUT he just reloads his restore point and everything is fiiine. Just tanks hits while doing as much damage as possible until he wins. On the plus side, he's pretty efficient with conserving magic

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

⭐⭐⭐

Id love to hear your ideas if you have any you'd like to share! Either from stories you've put down or concepts you have in the spares drawer!

(⭐fanfic writers' commentary)

Hmm… spares you say..?

I wrote a lot of rough drafts for the other stories in my 'Fixing the Dice' collection (uncertain on the name still), but I didn't feel they were up to my standards so I never published them. I think I'd probably change some of their plots if/when I rewrite them, so I feel safe sharing these.

You probably won't see these exact concepts come to light though. sorry.

Thief is planning an escape route with Inventor. The story focuses on showcasing the tensions he has in the main campaign with the other contestants; I picked Inventor as the character for him to bounce off of because she's crafty in a different way, and picks up on the dungeons being rigged the fastest along with him.

I don't think I ever figured out whether Lady Luck was gonna come into it for the main story, but she does show up at the end and point a finger at Inventor to be like 'that's the guy you're trusting. lmao'

From what I remember this was the draft I liked the most. It was pretty tonally solid. I think I ran out of stamina when it came to writing because I was under so much stress at the time. Also I struggled a bit with characterisation between the two, since the dice tend to be a lot shorter on dialogue than Lady Luck and Jester.

I think Witch was supposed to have a live interview with Lady Luck on her own request, which, as you can predict, doesn't go very well against someone much more experienced in entertainment and rooting for your downfall. I think I might've also had another way earlier version of her doing some fighting and magic, but I never wrote that down

I quit that one because I didn't have much to really say in it. Maybe a theme of influencer culture versus the entertainment industry? I suppose, but I don't care about either of those. I had a couple of ideas about a discussion about peoples' beliefs in magic and luck and whatever, but that felt a bit out of hand for a study on Witch's personality, who's like. A instagram user

…maybe I could make that contrast of attitudes work, actually. Try and reproduce the vibe of Eric Andre's 'did Margaret Thatcher effectively use girl power'. It'd probably still be a bastard to work with, tone-wise, but who knows?

I like to write these stories with a pinch of my own insecurities as the driving force, and I didn't really have any regarding fame at that point, so Witch was really hard to brainstorm for.

Warrior… I wanted to have him play off Jester and Lady Luck at the same time. He was kind of hard to think of a 'deal' for since he's the simplest of the four contestants in terms of character, and doesn't really pick up on Lady Luck's subtle-not-subtle evilness. The idea was instead to make this was a hope spot in the series between him and Jester, and have him trust Jester to help them find a way out, which ultimately fails.

I really struggled to find a setting for this. In the draft I wrote, I settled on a game-show-mandated road trip (they get to touch grass for one hour) out of the dungeons in that fancy car on the wheel. But it just didn't really work well tonally at all, and I personally have no experience on awkward car journeying at all, so.

Inventor I'm actually rewriting now. I've been posting snippets of it on my blog, even, since I'm no longer in contact with some of the friends who used to be my beta readers.

I don't want to spoil its new premise, but I will say the tone has changed massively from 'let's watch this nerd run around in a saw trap and solve maths puzzles that imply that the universe and all knowledge in it is fundamentally doomed' to 'Inventor's urge to know about everything in the dungeons and the world' versus 'WHY ARE YOU ASKING HER ABOUT IT'. It's a slight change, but I think it works way better with the ending I'm planning to use.

It's got a bit of commentary about how the general public reacts badly to maths and you only find respite from that with people who have learnt it sorta deal. I think Lady Luck would be the kind of deity who definitely knows the rules of her domain, given she's the one who designs the puzzles in-universe and is otherwise quite crafty, but obviously doesn't want to tell anyone any of that.

Unless. Well, unless she can get a new minion out of it.

…It's a fun time. I promise c: Now I just need to do research to make sure everything STEM-related I put in there is correct…

Jester was going to fail backstage. A fun reminder of how I was one of the few people who failed that level first try because I didn't realise it was a gimmick fight until half-way through >.>

I struggled with writing the action in this, since that's not usually a focal point of my writing. I felt that it would be useful for building up tension to an anti-climax, and we could have he rest of the story be a sense of failure and being stuck in life, but what actually ended up being written down just felt like a really stilted tonal shift from one bit I felt was obligatory to another I actually felt like doing.

also it played a little to one of my personal headcanons of Jester having a one-sided crush on their boss, with the scraps of recognition they have keeping them going despite the fact they can't leave the dungeons. This was definitely the least canon-compliant thing I put in the series, but I think it's still an interesting concept.

I will be honest. I don't think I would've handled it well. relationship angst doesn't work well with Dicey's mostly lighthearted tone I think. Nowadays I'd rather explore it with the jokey Pride Month DLC my brain cooked up because 'toxic yuri' and 'turbo divorce' are among my favourite words in the English langauge.

…not to get too personal but I think I was kind of putting way too many of my fears into that first draft and using writing it as an unhealthy coping mechanism. so. uhh. yeah after I got called out on that I was a bit embarassed and stopped. I think I'm in a better position nowadays, but as a result of that I don't really have a solid idea of where the tone would go on that story if I wrote it now.

I never really figured out what I wanted to happen to Jester in that fic. One potential ending had them being forced to cohost, like they'd always wanted. Another has the confrontation with their boss just kind of end on an impasse as they refuse to break. I think there was a bit where Lady Luck offers them their own escape at the cost of everyone else, which they did definitely refuse.

A bonus: I think I wrote one story about Warrior helping Jester move into an apartment or something after they got released. It was supposed to be a thing about finally getting to live your life the way you wanted and whatnot. I stopped writing that because I couldn't fucking fit the tone with the fact they were 5 foot tall cubes in my head

[soundofseclusion]

13. Harold Halibut

Release: 2024, PC/PS5/Xbox Series Beaten: May 1st, Xbox Series S (Game Pass) Playtime: 13h 20m

This'll be a long one.

As I write this, I last played Harold Halibut three days ago. I'm still finding my mind wandering to the game's beautiful set design, poignant scenes, and unique characters. The game advertises itself with a slogan to the effect of "a hand-crafted adventure," and I think that does come across by how meticulously put-together everything is. Clear consideration was put into just about every element, which I say even while believing that some beats fell flat, that it didn't always follow through with its own messages, and that the game is not always very well-constructed from a technical standpoint. Still, I think that they made something they were wholly proud of.

The game itself is slow. It's dull. But I never felt like dropping it. Sometimes I found myself wondering why Harold was being forced to move at walking speed across an environment, following a character with zero dialogue to accompany the trek. But usually I found myself not minding the fact that there isn't much to it. You're not really solving puzzles, well, ever. You're doing a lot of back and forth around a station which will sometimes make you do two warps just to get to a place that could have taken one. In between menial tasks, I found myself often navigating to areas to see if there were new interactions, and about half the time I was rewarded for that curiosity, which made the other half the time more frustrating. But, again, I didn't feel discouraged. I didn't feel, necessarily, like my time was being wasted.

And I believe there's a definite reason for that. In my opinion, it makes narrative sense that everything is so slow. It makes sense that you're tasked with doing simple things and plodding from one area to the next. Harold Halibut (the game) wants to push the fact that Harold Halibut (the character) doesn't do things for himself. He lives in service of others, following orders or just making it aimlessly through the day. And when he interacts with people, it's an effort. An effort often in vain, one that might result in him being mocked or made a fool. But also an effort that often uplifts both parties, that changes someone's direction, that provides purpose to a group of people who feel mostly aimless.

So when Harold Halibut (the guy) does something for himself, when he expresses philosophical thought or makes genuine connection with others, when he gets sad or angry or fucks up immeasurably and feels remorse, it means so much more. Because you've been Harold. You've seen his aimlessness and his passiveness and you've seen the abuse he suffers just for being a bit odd. You've experienced the exasperating nature of just putting yourself out there, and you've been rewarded and punished for it in kind. You've done exactly what you thought you were supposed to and still screwed it up.

This is a story about finding your way. About connecting against all odds. About love, but not really, and about humanity, but not really that either. About living a life primarily in service of others, feeling like you never reach your potential, if you even have any idea what your "potential" might be. And about coming to terms with that life and accepting it. Or maybe even about finding what it is you are meant for, and accepting that despite how fucking hard it is, and how much wasted effort you'll have to cope with once you've found it, and how nothing will ever be the same or ever feel easy again.

It's about living in the moments of aimlessness, knowing that there will eventually be moments of purpose. And about being okay with both.

[transpeterparkcr]

you take an adhd assessment because your psychiatrist says you should, and you're a nervous wreck the entire way there. "did you have any problems at school when you were younger?" the therapist asks, and you shrug. "i don't think so" you say, and she hums and writes something down. you feel like you got a question wrong, so you offer something else up. "i know i had some trouble in high school" but what are you supposed to say? that most of your childhood is blurry and hard to reach? trauma will do that, it turns out. you shift on your seat when she asks about grades. she raises an eyebrow at 'valedictorian', and hums again. you want to run out of the door and never come back.

a week later you spend six hours solving puzzles and answering questions and pressing buttons when asked. the first thirty minutes are fine, you kind of enjoy looking for patterns and doing some math. and then the fog sets in, and you feel like you're underwater and can neither swim nor drown. she asks if you need a break, and you look up with a started 'what?' before the question pierces the fog and you nod. but turns out there's only so much time you can spend walking up and down a hallway before you're bored again, so you might as well get it over with.

your leg is shaking the entire time. you stop every time you catch her staring, and feel the shame burning again. when its over, you go home on autopilot and spend the rest of the day lying in bed. the fog doesn't lift.

she tells you two weeks later that you don't have adhd. she doesn't say what's wrong with you either. some minor anxiety, maybe. she sends you the report, and it's got half of your history wrong. it's got your name wrong. it's got your pronouns wrong. you feel your eyes fill with tears. $600 you don't really have and no closer to any answers.

"maybe you should try practicing focus, with no distractions" says your therapist. you want to laugh. practicing focus, like that hadn't occurred to you yet. you don't come back.

you wonder later if you're faking it. if maybe everything is hard to do and focus is hard to come by just because you're lazy. if everyone else also has 50 simultaneous thoughts and also a song stuck in their head. if everyone is secretly an insomniac or if they all just know how to quiet the racing thoughts every night, and you're the only idiot who can't figure it out on their own.

two years later, you have a new therapist. you've worked through some trauma. you've tried a couple meds. you complain about not being able to watch a show longer than 20 minutes and even then. you talk about reading the same paragraph ten times and still not knowing what it's saying. do you have any ideas, you say, at the end of your rope. he looks pensive for a second, then looks at you through thick rimmed glasses. "have you considered you might have adhd?" he says.

you laugh.

[dearemmeline]

Chapter 12. The Final

Hello, Emmeline?

Do you remember the first day that we met? I was rushing to reach you in private. Though I had written my number on the inside, I didn't really think you would reply. When you called later that day, I was pleasantly surprised. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and of so much more. That same honesty, that same candid nature that I felt in you from the very beginning has made getting to know you the best thing that has ever happened to me. At that time, I was at a point in my life where my faith in humanity was pretty low. You helped me to see the goodness that can still be found in people, and I will be forever grateful for your influence in my life.

You have such a great attitude, Emmeline. Your world is full of rainbows and sunbursts. You're gentle and kind. I love the awe and reverence that you feel for nature, like it's a part of you, and you're a part of it. You have such an appreciation for little things that most people wouldn't even notice, cat paws and dog barks, the scent of myriad wildflowers, the morning dew on tiny blades of mountain grass.

You're so smart, even if you don't like math (me too). The world is an infinite puzzle that you delight in trying to solve. I've never met anyone that I could talk to so easily, about anything and everything. I trust you with things I've never shared with another soul, and I know that you keep them close to your heart.

Before I met you, I couldn't imagine living my life with just one person. Now, I can't imagine my life without you, the idea of one day without you is painful to think about. Before I knew you, “forever” was something I had heard about, but something I couldn't fathom. Now I know that we're supposed to be together, and no matter where I am, as long as I'm with you, that's where I want to be. You are my life, my heart, my soul. Because of you in my world, in my arms, I have everything, and I can't imagine what I'd do without you. I promise you that I will spend the rest of my life devoted to making you happy, committed to the eternal joy we will find together.

I love you and I need you. You complete me. You're a part of every fiber of my being, and you're constantly on my mind. You must be exhausted, always running through my thoughts by day and in my dreams by night. I wish I could really express the happiness I have found in spending time with you over the last few weeks. Getting to know you has brought a dimension to my life that it just never had before. Every time we are together, the world looks a little better and the sun shines a little brighter.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that you're the kindest, most animated, and most amazing person I have ever met. The more I learn about you, the more I want to know. You're incredible. You have, in a way, changed the way I see the world. I am a better person, and I want to be an even better person, just because I have known you. It's not just our desire to serve others, though. I love that you enjoy playing games and spending time in the great outdoors as much as I do. Every day that I'm with you is full of bright hope and offers a new adventure.

I hope you know how much you're starting to mean to me. The other girls I've dated in the past just fade in comparison. You're quickly becoming the only one for me. I hope that I will soon be the only one for you. My whole world has changed for the better now that you love me. When I think of you, I can't help smiling from ear to ear. What must people be thinking when they look at me? Because of your example, I find that I am much kinder to people. I'm happy. I'm so full of love that it is reflected in everything I do.

I love the time we spend together. I never feel more at peace than when we simply hold hands, watch the sunset, and whisper how we feel. I love listening to your voice. I want you to know you can always depend upon my love. It is alive and true and grows stronger each day. I promise I will always love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We are perfect for each other: our zest for life, our stubborn determination, and our looking at the world with a cockeyed sense of humor. Most importantly, we share love. We're good for each other in so many ways, and we always find ways to lift and encourage each other.

Would you be mine, Emmeline?

[shower-racoon]

putting it beneath the cut, because it's decently long

also I talk about "fake objects" a lot, I don't know why I insisted on calling them "fake objects" throughout this post. we all know that I mean "mimics"

okay, so there's 10 rooms with puzzles, one room at the end. the end room only has a phone on a table.

the puzzles are simple: four objects, one is fake. interacting with a real object is always safe, interacting with a fake object is only safe if you're about as far away from it as you can be while keeping it in interactable range or if you're using certain items. if there are more than four objects in a room, the important objects are wrapped up like presents and must be unwrapped before they can be interacted with.

you have a seal for each room. place the seal on a real object, nothing happens. fake object, it gets sealed. you must seal the fake object in each room to move on. when the fake object is sealed, the lights in the back half of the room turn off and the door opens.

keep at least one corner of the room in sight at all times. otherwise, these... things that look like giant, low-polygon ants will come closer by gliding along the floor. contact is forbidden. the ant naturally closest to the exit will not move if you are near the exit.

the "ants" are usually invisible, but can barely be seen when the lights are off. how do the lights turn off? simple, if you go into any corner while looking at the opposite corner, you kill the ant in the corner you're in. this makes the other ants upset and turns the lights off, but it also opens the emergency exit door in the middle of the wall with the regular door. using this method to skip the puzzle will increase the speed of all future ants, but does not increase future ant speed if you do it after sealing the fake object.

...typing this out, it feels like this is supposed to be two different games, not one. anyways

one of the puzzles had the exact same object four times, instead of four distinct objects. each one was labelled with a number, 1-4. there was a number puzzle on the wall, and whichever number was the solution to the number puzzle was the fake object. however, at this point it was a two-player game with me and my cousin. I tried to use the ant killing trick to bypass the puzzle, but it didn't work. the ants were still chasing me, the lights didn't turn on in the next room, and the doors never closed, allowing me to see the final room but not win the game. I died due to contact with the ants, and the dream ended shotly after that, so I have no idea if it didn't work because multiplayer doesn't like it, or if both players have to be in the same room, with that room being after the one where the ant was killed. for gameplay balance, I'd do the latter, but limit it to the room directly after the one the ant was killed in.

nothing beyond this point was actually in the dream, I came up with the rest of this post while lucid.

to make the game actually fun, I'd make sure that either all objects are distinct with a reasonable way to tell which one is fake, or have them be identical with a puzzle to determine which one is fake.

if you seal the wrong object once or twice, it temporarily makes the ants move faster, but they go back to normal within a minute. sealing the wrong object three times, however, gives them a small, permanent speed boost, as well as the temporary speed boost.

the ending you get depends on your actions. seal every object, you yourself get sealed. solve each puzzle correctly without failing, you're set free. kill 5-9 ants, get trapped in the final room. kill 10 ants, you're offered a job. avoid doing any puzzles or killing any ants, an ant kills you for not participating (might be possible through an "impatience" mechanic, or by sealing one or two real objects before sealing the fake object counting as "not doing the puzzle"). multiplayer variants of each ending are also available.

I just had another dream that would make for a decent horror game if done correctly

[unsaidcurses]

can you write smth with marcus where the reader is an engineer and marcus his car has some sort of software issue so reader fixes it and explains it to him what happened but he barely pays attention because he is just ✨️shook✨️ how smart and pretty they are xx

pretty engineer// m.a.

summary: you're marcus' engineer and try to explain him what's wrong with his car. but he can only focus on your beauty

pairing: marcus armstrong x fem!reader

wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: I'm utterly in love with this idea, even thought i'm not 100% satisfied with how it came out BUT marcus today got a win so i guess a little thing about him won’t hurt :))

“what the hell happened there”

there he was, marcus coming straight out of the car asking for some explanation to his race engineer. sprint race just finished and, even thought he managed to get in the top 8, he had some serious issues which almost costed him some big points for the standings. no matter how many times, how strong, in which moment he pressed the drs button: the wing never opened, and clearly that is a huge problem when drivers with a more competitive car are behind you with the possibility to use drs as well. it was an exhausting race and all he wanted was to understand what was wrong with his car, help if possible and then have a proper lunch.

"we don't know yet, y/n is talking to some mechanics to find out. they're in the garage." his race engineer told him, so he went in looking out for you.

you were pretty new to the team, but you proved yourself many times already, showing you were really good at solving problems. so the team trusted you enough to let you solve the puzzle alone, and they did well because you found the problem (or at least you supposed you did) before the race even finished, but it was a mechanical problem so nobody could really do anything until the car was off track.

marcus saw a mass of people and slowly got closer, trying to regain some energies and set his mind to the right place to deal with a serious problem

“hey, is any help needed here?” he cleared his throat before speaking, and all the people turned around to look at him. with all the movements, marcus could finally spot you, as you were covered by the crowd before, and gave you a bright smile which you shyly returned. you were always so kind to everybody that he almost forgot he was there because his car stopped working properly.

“oh no. y/n just told us what was wrong, it’ll be as new for the race tomorrow, don’t worry. she was really fast, you did an amazing job” the chief mechanic stated first towards the driver and then directly at the engineer. after that, he signalled the crew to get to work, leaving you and the young man alone.

“a fast engineer for a fast driver, uhm?” marcus joked making you giggle. you eyed him from where you were collecting your things: he was still wearing the suit but it was hanging by the hips leaving him with the fireproof shirt, and considering how athletic he looked, it was a pretty distracting view, but you were a serious worker and tried not to let your eyes wander too much.

“i guess so. considering how well you performed today without drs, i’m sure tomorrow you’ll be even faster.” you said sweetly, ignoring how proud marcus felt of his job after your compliment.

“thank you, both for the compliment and all you did for the car. by the way, if you have a minute, would you mind explaining me what happened?”  it’s not like he didn’t care about it, but the main reason why he asked you was to keep the conversation going. he didn’t have this opportunity very often cause you were always pretty busy and technically you weren’t one of the engineers in strict contact with him.

“of course! come here, i’ll show you.” you happily invited him in the back of the garage where your workstation was. at the end of the day you loved your job and you were really excited when anybody asked you about it.

you opened the computer sitting on a chair, marcus standing behind you, extending an hand on the desk in order to bend a little and be closer, but in the action he bumped his shoulder against yours. he didn’t meant to, but he didn’t mind the contact. he could always put it on not hearing you properly, thanks to all the noise in garage, but you didn’t mention it nor moved so he let the touch linger a bit more.

“it was pretty difficult to understand what was wrong because from the data it looked like the drs opened. I supposed It could have been an hydraulic problem, but again, everything was okay. so I checked and I am convinced there’s a problem with the pivots on the wing, you know, the ones that effectively makes the mechanism works.”

fun stuff right? I don’t know, but don’t ask marcus, cause he definitely didn’t listen. or rather, he did listen, but was too focus on your face to actively understand the meaning of you words. you looked stunning, he was pretty sure the last time he thought something on earth could be this beautiful was the first time he saw a ferrari when he was a kid. seeing you in the same hitech uniform he had didn’t help, and don’t even get him started on how intelligent you must be to explain so easily all those engineering things, that was damn well attractive. oh- and the little joyful voice you had the whole time.

he was a weak man. he knew it and he wasn’t ashamed of it.

“so now they are fixing them.” you finished with a broad smile turning to look at him in the eyes, only to be met with a lip parted, clearly not focused marcus.

“they’re fixing it?” he repeated with big eyes finally out of his trance. “them-“ you corrected him with a giggle “but yeah, they are”

“cool, cool, cool.”  he seriously had no clue what you just told him. he was staring at you, same position of when you settled, which meant being close enough to Marcus to let him see a little blush creeping onto your cheeks. You weren’t used to having this little room between you and him.

“fast driver doesn’t understand engineering, does he?” was it a joke, a tease or an actual question? you didn’t even know, but it came out so naturally. after a series of small talks you had over time, you felt enough comfortable to say something like that to him.

and since you couldn’t tell if you were just being friendly or you were actually flirting, how could marcus know that? therefore he decided to shoot his shot. in the worst case scenario you would reject him, but you really were too kind to make him feel bad the slightest about it, so he just went for it.

“fast driver understand engineering when it isn’t such a pretty lady explaining it, your beauty is distracting.”

lucky you hitech was not in the ferrari garage, cause you would have blended perfectly with its shade. it’s not an everyday event that a driver, who also happened to be polite and have your same humour, compliment you like that. you were left speechless. and he found it extremely cute, just to add it to the list.

you stood there gasping, trying to think of a proper answer you could give him when a mechanic turned the angle, saw you and decided to stop to inform you.

and save you, but he didn’t know this.

“oh- hey guys, you’re still here. we fixed the car and yes, it was the pivots so y/n were right. drs will work perfectly tomorrow.” he left after getting a thanks and a wave from both of you.

“well… one problem’s gone. pretty lady and pretty driver having lunch together would check off another one from the list, what do you think?” you had no clue where you found the courage to say these words, but they eventually paid back when marcus started grinning.

“not too bad of a plan.” you both smiled “give me just five minutes to change out of this.” he indicated the suit, walking towards the driver’s room but hitting a column in the way, apologizing to it like it was a person, which made a genuine laugh leave your lips.

when he came back, you just finished putting your stuff away. he pointed at the door to let you go first, following you behind kvelling out of every pore to finally have a lunch with you

after all you had a pretty good day at the office.

[sergeantsporks]

(@spinaroos-47 ) i had this idea some hours ago and im surprised that no one thought about it.

So like, an AU where Philip does manage to make Hunter back in the 1600s. What would have changed? What could have happened to both of them?

Probably not something good but a good source for angst

OOOOOOOOO okay, okay.

I'd LIKE to say that caring for a baby while he's still a pathetic powerless guy changes him, and he cares about something other than himself. Cute Phillip raising a baby, deciding that this is enough, and since Hunter would never fit in in the human realm, he may as well stay here for Hunter's sake.

Unlikely. More likely, he either foists Hunter on someone else until he's big enough to be useful/until he's housetrained, tosses him to a monster as a distraction, or otherwise raises him badly.

I'm imagining him teaching a small Hunter to solve puzzles, teaching him how to pick locks, how to avoid hits and attacks, and then using him as his "sacrifice"/distraction for all of his tasks. It's too early, after all, he has to wait for that eclipse.

Except Hunter doesn't die.

Hunter, tenacious eight year old, survives against all odds, and trots up to his uncle's side with a "that was a close one, I'm glad you got out safe"

Hunter, ten, gets out of them injured and asks, gasping, "Did we get it? Did I distract it long enough?"

Hunter, 14, has stopped asking his uncle if he's done well, just solves the puzzle, distracts the beast, or the flesh-eating plants, or takes the magical trap's damage like a pro. Occasionally his uncle will tell him a story of the human realm as a treat, and on those days, Hunter knows he did well even if his uncle won't say it.

Hunter, 20, is doing most of this alone now. He can defeat most of the beasts on his own, and his uncle is too frail. At least, that's what Hunter tells himself when Phillip-- except he wants to be called Belos now-- gives him a list of things to retrieve.

He hasn't failed to notice that his uncle doesn't seem to get any older.

Hunter, 37, has slowed down. His reflexes just aren't as fast. Old injuries are taking their toll, making his joints hurt. He gets badly injured and stumbles home without the prize. His uncle eyes him and says he supposed he hadn't expected much from him anymore.

Hunter, 37, leaves. He's not useful to his uncle anymore-- the last injury left him with a permanent limp and shaking hands-- and most debilitatingly, a deep sickness to his stomach whenever he looks at a puzzle.

Hunter, 40, is actually okay. Those savage wild witches are... kind. Even though he doesn't have magic, they treat him well. They've done enough healing magic that he can get around with a cane. Their magic can't do anything for the shadows in his mind, though.

He sees glimpses of his uncle, looking almost the same as the day he left him, albeit with greying hair and a greenish scar. But he can still always tell it's him. He feels an ache in his chest--but never approaches.

On his deathbed, he sees his uncle one last time. A small smile crosses the man's face.

"Hunter." the voice is different. But it's still him, isn't it?

"Uncle Belos," Hunter rasps, "You're almost done?"

He waves a hand. "Oh, I'm waiting to collect a few parts I need. Something broke, and I need a replacement."

"How long do you think it'll take?" Will it happen before...

Uncle Belos leans back with another small smile. "It should only be a few moments now."

[nekropsii]

[In reference to your second Hostilestuck post] If it were just someone's random creepypasta that'd be perfectly fine and harmless fun but sending graphic descriptions to complete randos honestly speaks to some kind of clear irresponsibility, is the problem. Especially when an argument can be made that the descriptions are more graphic than the images themself, because with that amount of detail your brain is likely to start filling it in more. You can't really make an argument that those descriptions work as any kind of litmus test for the content in question when that's the case (I was substantially more nauseated by the description of what happened to Eridan than I was by any of the revealed panels, which have substantially more warnings surrounding them). It's as easy as giving a vague 1-2 word description of what the content contains and then saying "I can go into more detail if you're interested / you can handle it" because if someone says no to that then they probably won't be interested at all anyways. It feels more like the users being sent these asks are being used as a platform in general and while that's not a new idea for ARGs it is without any warning or consideration as to who it's being sent to. A good ARG isn't something you just shove in peoples' hands, the audience actively pursues it after the lead is out there (whether that's solving puzzles or actively choosing to watch when it posts) and thereby is much more prepared to face the content when they find it because they're already going to be cautious. I don't think it's damned to be bad or anything if the person doing it wises up a little but as it stands you're right there is absolutely problem with its marketing. I do kinda hope it's just some kid and they learn from this. (sorry for such a long ask I was gonna put it in the tags but I didn't want to nuke you from there, you don't have to post/reply to this I just needed to get it out)

Don’t apologize, I genuinely agree with you, and sometimes you can only properly get your thoughts out with a lot of words. If you’ve been here long enough, you’d know that I understand the need for wordiness completely, lol. You guys are gonna be getting new Nekro lore here, because I’m gonna start speaking from experience.

Content Warning: Long.

I definitely agree that the image descriptions are significantly more graphic than… The images themselves. Honestly, when I saw the supposed “Resurfaced Panels,” I was kind of… Disappointed? Like… Really, really disappointed, actually. I thought that, considering how hyped up this was, how the alleged comic itself was described, and how people were calling it “super gory,” it’d be, well… Actually gory. The actual images themselves aren’t that bad at all- the blood isn’t convincing, the trauma isn’t convincing, the images don’t have much of a sense of carnality.

It’s very stiff, very impersonal, and it doesn’t seem to understand itself or what it’s going for very well. It’s just kind of… There. It’s a little amateur- not that there’s anything wrong with that at all, I actually fucking love amateur art, it just kind of shows that whoever is making this doesn’t really “get” what they’re going for, and they don’t know how to actually deliver the same intensity that they’re writing about. At least, not in drawn form. No shame in that- everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and this can arise even in the depiction of the same idea by the same person. Some are simply better at writing out their ideas than drawing them. There’s a reason why some things are Books, some are Comics, some are TV Shows, some are Movies, some are Songs, and some are a Painting Collection.

Sending such graphic, visceral descriptions to random people- people who aren’t even known to be horror fans or gorehounds!- totally unprompted and without any warning is, as you said, wildly irresponsible… At best. It’s genuinely a pretty shitty thing to do. My honest assumption is that this is someone who is either still in their teens, has zero sense of boundaries, or both.

None of these things spell out good things for any potential ARG, and this is me speaking as someone who has literally worked as a writer and team manager for one for an entire existing company!! How are you going to act as a proper GM if you have no boundaries? How are you supposed to maintain the curtain? How are you supposed to cultivate a good, healthy audience if your advertisement consists of shoving very unsavory content into unconsenting people’s faces en masse?! Jesus!! I really do hope that, if this is some kind of ARG pitch, whoever is running the game matures a little and/or backs out. From what I can see of this, this is way out of their scope.

You know how an ARG works well, that’s exactly how it’s supposed to function. Again, consent. I don’t think anything is truly “damned to be bad,” especially with regards to art, but the way the current trajectory looks, this seems like it’s going to spiral, and it’s going to spiral hard. The Players for this (alleged) ARG- the “Sleuths”- definitely seem to also be taking this too far, and those who aren’t in the active Player Base kind of… Really aren’t taking this seriously, because everything about this situation so far has been astronomically ridiculous. It’s going to lose most of its spotlight very quickly, I think- this audience really isn’t built to last.

I’m gonna cautiously keep an eye on this thing. Again, as an ex-GM for a corporate ARG, this absolutely doesn’t look like it’s going to end well. Not to be that pretentious, egotistical asshole who thinks he’s uniquely qualified to read these kinds of situations, but I think I’m uniquely qualified to read this kind of situation. If I’m wrong, then hell fucking yes, I love a good underdog victory… But I don’t think that’ll happen.

This marketing fucking sucks. Everyone behind it needs to go in the Time-Out Corner and remember that people on the internet are, in fact, real people, and that they have boundaries, too. If you cultivate this kind of audience with no sense of boundaries, you’re in for an absolutely fucking hellish time. Trust me, I’ve been there. Hell to pay, if you’re gathering a crowd of that kind of person on purpose, man. Hell to fuckin’ pay.

[queerfables]

No, please, by all means be argumentative ;) I love your work as well. I've tried to be respectful in how I talk about this (and I can see you are too) but it's an argumentative stance for me to take in the first place, and I don't mind the disagreement. I hope you'll forgive me, this response got long.

I'm not sure if "fanon creep" is a term people use but "fanon" is a fan interpretation that gets widely accepted as canon even though it's not definitively established. So what I'm talking about when I say fanon creep is the way people's headcanons become entrenched over time, and other fans are forced to either adopt them or specifically challenge them in order to engage with the fandom.

The more entrenched a particular fanon interpretation becomes, the more it's accepted as a fact on par with things that are definitively established in canon, and the harder it becomes to distinguish between these tiers of certainty. It also becomes much harder to explore alternative possibilities which limits creativity, because over time the fanon becomes the expected interpretation and fans either don't consider alternatives or they feel like they have to justify taking a different reading. People coming in new to the fandom get presented with this interpretation as a fact, and without knowing where it comes from or how people arrived at the idea, often repeat it uncritically because they assume the fandom veterans know the canon better than they do. And this is a problem because not understanding the rationale behind the idea leads to the idea being flattened with each retelling. People can't build on it effectively if they don't understand what evidence supports it and what evidence challenges it. People can't come up with alternative theories that fit the evidence if they're confused about what the evidence actually is.

I'm not saying we have to go back to basics and lay out our reasoning every time we want to discuss this idea. I'm saying that when we talk about it, we should talk about it as what it is: a possibility. Lots of meta takes an "if/then" approach and it's still possible to build on this idea while making explicit the assumptions we're relying on when we do. Because while I do think there's evidence to support this idea, I'm nowhere near as confident in it as you are.

The thing is, the theory of evolution is a scientific theory. I apologise for this digression but you've invoked one of the things I'm geeky about, haha. A scientific theory relates to the physical world and we trust it because it's been repeatedly tested and is supported by observable evidence. This just isn't a model that applies to literary analysis, which is based in trying to understand a creative human construct rather than our physical existence. I get that you're saying "it might only be a theory, but it's one with lots of evidence" but the kind of evidence we're talking about is really different. We just can't have the same degree of confidence in our predictions about fiction because fiction is inherently unpredictable.

This is controversial, but I'm not completely convinced Good Omens season 2 is supposed to be viewed as a puzzle box mystery to be solved. This probably ought to be a meta in its own right but I'm here now and it's hard to explain my stance without going into this so I might as well.

Crowley and Aziraphale's conversation about Clues is a Terry Pratchett reference, and specifically it riffs on the beliefs of Samuel Vimes, a no-nonsense police detective who rejects the entire paradigm of Clues.

From Feet of Clay:

Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues. He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way. And he distrusted the kind of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen and in fact got seasick on a wet pavement. What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience!

From The Fifth Elephant:

Mr. Vimes had told him never to get too excited about clues, because clues could lead you a dismal dance. They could become a habit. You ended up finding a wooden leg, a silk slipper and a feather at the scene of a crime and constructing an elegant theory involving a one-legged ballet dancer and a production of Chicken Lake.

I can't say for sure what Neil intended by this reference, of course, but I do think that maybe we're supposed to take the emphasis on Clues as a little bit tongue in cheek. This is especially true given Crowley's skeptical reaction, and the fact that the Clue ends up being important to Gabriel personally but not very significant in unravelling the mystery surrounding him.

The other thing that makes me think we can't assume there's a big underlying mystery left unresolved from this season is the enormous barrel of actual red herrings cavorting through the opening credits. Maybe it's pointing towards a mystery-genre type reading, or maybe it's telling us to be skeptical about Clues. And this is really my fundamental point: when there are multiple possible readings supported by the evidence, we really can't take anything for granted. There's a certain level of subjectivity involved when we speculate about what's most likely.

That's why I say it's important to be aware of the assumptions we're making. If we assume season 2 is a mystery puzzle that we're supposed to try and solve, then it's reasonable to assume there must be important questions left unanswered. If we assume there are important questions left unanswered, it's reasonable to give extra weight to discrepancies and patterns, like the way Crowley talks about memory. If we assume there's weighted meaning behind the way Crowley talks about memory, it's only sensible to add up all the things he says and consider it through the lense that season 2 is a mystery we're supposed to solve. And when we do that, we get: of course Crowley lost his memory. Only, we started from an unproven assumption. Maybe season 2 isn't a mystery puzzle we're meant to solve! If that assumption is wrong, the whole theory's credibility comes into question. It doesn't necessarily fall apart but the evidence behind it is weaker. And each new assumption we make introduces new places where we could be mistaken. So if we make three assumptions that we don't realise are assumptions when we conclude that Crowley lost his memory, that's three hidden sources of potential error. And if we approach our next meta from a foundation of, "as we know, Crowley lost his memory when he Fell" we're carrying those potential sources of error into our next analysis, still without being aware of them. It leads us to overestimate how confident we can be in our claims and misrepresent them as stronger than they really are. And to circle back to my initial post, this is why I think it's so important to distinguish between canon and interpretation.

In any case, I highly encourage you to write the meta laying out the evidence for why you feel so strongly about this. Perhaps I'll write a counter meta explaining my doubts, and we can have it out the old-fashioned way like bitter academic rivals (I think the tradition is pistols at dawn?) <3

At this stage, Crowley having lost memories from before the Fall is a theory, not a given. There's some evidence for it but nothing like proof. It's fine to base analysis on the possibility but your argument will be much stronger if you acknowledge that it's an if. If Crowley lost his memories, then - whatever it is this implies or raises questions about.

Maybe I'm being too precious about What's Really Canon but we're only a few months into a hiatus that's going to last years, and I'm desperately hoping we can avoid fanon creep as much as possible. So I'm encouraging us, in all areas, to notice when we're accepting possibilities as givens. We can build theories on top of theories but it's really crucial that we acknowledge which parts are assumptions. Because each incorrect assumption that we rely on takes us further away from the truth. This is such a smart fandom and I love reading everyone's perspectives. I want us to keep all our avenues for speculation open, including the ones that go against dominant fandom readings.