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skipper1331 · 6 months

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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

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writingquestionsanswered · 4 months

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I'm tired of my ideas always being big. It's overwhelming. I like seeing others' WIPs and ideas because they're just so simple... Like, that comic about a mermaid living in the ocean in our modern time and dealing with plastic trash. So simple and my own brain is bursting with ideas. But my own WIPs... they just start huge. I'd like something smaller... but I don't know how.

Stories Always Get Too Big

Stories can get out of hand quickly when they sprout too many independent threads. There are three primary culprits that serve as sparks that create these threads:

1 - Setting 2 - Non-Protagonist Characters/Relationships 3 - Back Story

The thing to remember, though, is that no matter how interesting your setting is, no matter how compelling your other characters are, and how fascinating the back story is, those things are not your plot.

Plot is the sequence of events through which the protagonist (and potentially other main characters) attempt to resolve the story's conflict by overcoming obstacles and setbacks in pursuit of a goal.

In other words, focus on this:

the protagonist > their normal world > the event that introduces a problem they must resolve > the goal they formulate in order to resolve that problem > the events that occur as a result of their pursuit of this goal > their attempts to overcome obstacles and setbacks encountered along the way > their attempt to solve the problem once and for all > failure or success > life in a changed situation/world

Anything else doesn't need to be there unless it is critical in order for one of the above steps to make sense.

So, let's take your mermaid example... though I haven't read that comic so I'm winging it here:

the protagonist = mermaid normal world = doing mermaid stuff inciting incident = finding plastic trash in the water goal = clean up/find the culprit and teach them to do better events = cleaning up, learning about humans, tracking down culprit climax = mermaid appeals to humans to do better finale = mermaid is living in a cleaner ocean

Now, let's say your brain starts to go off on a tangent about a deep oceanic rift and an evil merman wizard who lives there... stop right there. It's a fun idea, but what does it have to do with this story? How does it relate to the trash, clean-up, finding the culprit, or appeal to humans to do better? It doesn't. Theoretically, you could make it make sense... like, maybe the merman wizard likes the trash and wants the ocean to be dirty and gross, so maybe he is opposing the mermaid's attempts to clean up and to appeal to the humans. Okay, that works, so you can keep it. But, let's say you also have this idea about these creatures that live around the hydrothermal vents, and the mermaid meets and falls in love with a scientist who's studying them. Okay, again, interesting idea, but this one is much harder to fit in with the rest of the story. Sure, you could say the scientist is studying marine pollution instead... that brings it back around to the main conflict, but still, what does this relationship add to the story? How does it help or harm the mermaid's mission? How does it help to explore the story's themes or help deliver the message? It doesn't really sound like it does, so this would be an example of a thread you can probably snip.

And the thing is, it would be okay to follow a thread like that while you're plotting or writing your first draft, just to see where it goes and see if you can make it work. Part of why we edit and revise is to snip out the threads and elements that aren't pulling their weight. But learning how to curb them as they occur to you will help save you work later on down the line. Try writing those ideas down in an ideas document, and maybe those can be worked into different stories, a sequel, or a companion story.

One final note: I am very much aware that there are some epic writers out there who let wild tangles of threads sprout as they write, and they follow them all without abandon, relevant or not. That's okay, too. These are writers for whom that works, who don't feel overwhelmed by all of those threads, who want to write something bigger and more unwieldy. Maybe in time as you get accustomed to writing smaller, tidier stories, you embrace the bigger stories your brain wants to tell. Or maybe you don't. Whatever works best for you is all that matters. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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greenerteacups · 1 month

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Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.

I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.

I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.

First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:

I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.

A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.

Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.

A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.

A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.

#greenteacup asks #dramione

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #kraven the hunter x reader #one shot #marvel

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lookingforhappy · 2 months

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TUA: Young Blood Review??

yeah idk what to call this but I wanna talk about this book so bad so here's my thoughts

General (Spoiler Free) Review

It's pretty good! solidly between Okay and Good on my rankings which is honestly a really good outcome for me as I was worried it was going to be much worse.

There's some continuity errors with the lore the show has established (I will go over this later), but they're not glaring, just vaguely annoying because there's some pretty easy ways to fix them (I'll also explain later). But there's also some more fun additions to the lore that's in keeping with the show and the characters.

(there were also quite a few typos that were missed but it wasn't overwhelming, just noticeable enough that they probably should have caught them before they were published - at least one sentence is missing a word and several words are spelt wrong including in one instance the name of one of the OCs)

I could list all the aspects of it that are "okay" but I think u get the picture. in all honesty it's fairly unobtrusive which again, for me, is glowing praise lmao.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book despite all of the issues (that I will pull apart beneath the read more). In fanfiction terms I think it's best described as "fluff" as not much really happens but it's an interesting exploration of the Umbrella's, their powers, and their attitudes in the months before Ben's death.

major spoilers review under the cut ↓

and now, we shall tear this bitch apart lol

Continuity Errors

There's only one big issue that I have and that is the Umbrella's knowing that there were other children born on 1st October 1989. which they repeatedly refer to as october 1st children in the book.

The Hargreeves don't know that there's others, outside of the 7 of them, born with powers to mothers who weren't pregnant. They believe, and were likely told or manipulated by Reginald into believing, that he adopted all of the special children.

as is said in 2x10:

Lila is the first of the other 43 (+?) kids that they meet and is the one to reveal that there were others born with powers like them.

In the book, the Hargreeves' all know that there were other children born with powers (ch23 pg 164). and it's not a throw away line as a big part of the plot is that they meet Ryan, another of the 43.

which... kind of annoying and easily fixable. here's how I would've worked around this issue while still preserving the plot:

Ryan's powers are the ability to determine and gift powers to others. He is unable to gift himself powers and unable to gift new powers, change powers, or remove the powers of the 43. His powers also require a fair amount of effort on his part, as well as his physical touch to bestow them. When he uses his powers, and when those he's gifted with powers use them, earthquakes occur in that persons vicinity and toxic (flammable) dust appears in the air.

note the dust, the dust is the crux of my fix:

Instead of the Umbrella's realising that Ryan is one of the 43 due to prior knowledge, have them blame the powers on the dust making them hallucinate. Once the firefighters arrive and begin evacuating and putting out the fires after Ryan is dealt with, have them blame the hallucinations vanishing on the dissipating of the dust.

Or, have Reginald pose this to the Umbrella's and manipulate them into believing his story rather than their own eyes.

To prevent the universally disliked "it was all a dream" trope have Ryan's existence as a member of the 43 be confirmed to the reader through another POV, such as a third party, Reginald, Pogo or Grace.

Other/Minor Continuity Errors

The siblings consistently refer to Reginald as "Hargreeves" when in the show they almost always call him "Dad"

Diego says he painted his room black because he likes the colour black, but in the show his room is white/greenish with blue and brown wooden accents

Diego also says he hates the Umbrella Academy uniform and that he thinks it's too "cute" and that they should wear black uniforms instead... but in the show, the uniform changed styles between 2002 and 2006 to be a black spandex/leather thing

and Luther continues to wear a version of this outfit into his young adulthood

Since this book is set in 2006, the year that Ben dies, that doesn't give the Umbrella's much time to change (and for this to be one of the outfits that Allison remembers well enough to recall with Claire).

Ben is also a strange case in this book as his powers are more readily described, yet his powerset/style is more consistent with Sparrow Ben or with the new trailer than the actual Umbrella Ben.

The first issue is that Umbrella Ben's powers are only seen 2 - 3 times, but he uses them in a specific way each time:

he lifts/opens his shirt

the horror only comes out through his stomach

he seems to have little or no control over the tentacles themselves

he seems to be in pain or to be struggling each time

he doesn't seem able to move once he summons the tentacles

so it seems that this is the most effective way that Ben is able to use his powers,

however, Sparrow Ben's powers are a lot more controlled:

he is able to control indivdual tentacles with finesse

he doesn't need to lift his shirt but instead summons the portal over the top of his clothes

is not in visible pain or discomfort while summoning them

he is not stuck to one position while using his powers but instead uses them to traverse his environment

and in the s4 trailer his powers seem to have changed even more:

his tentacles are now emerging from his back, not his stomach

he is fully suspended in the air, his weight only supported by the tentacles

now, the Ben in this book has:

tentacles that emerge from his back

is suspended mid air by said tentacles at least twice

has the finesse to use his tentacles to pull a fighting Luther and Diego apart with injuring them.

He also rips his shirt everytime he summons the tentacles and has openings sewn into his uniform by mom to allow them to exit.

obviously this is a strange merging of all three Bens so far which ends in the continuity issue of Umbrella Ben's powers being more refined in this book, set months or weeks before his death, than they ever were while he was that bit older, and dead.

The book also makes a big deal about them not being able to wear anything other than the uniform, but Allison has a lot of clothes in her room as a kid and is seen wearing casual clothes in multiple magazines and posters

aside from Five, it's implied that all the others have casual clothes and are allowed to wear what they want during their free time.

Other Gripes

these aren't particularly big issues but they are choices that I don't personally agree with. If you enjoy/ed these choices then fair play.

I'm not personally fond of the use of the name Viktor and he/him pronouns in a prequel setting, as I'd prefer realism rather than pretending he's always been Viktor. plus I feel like we all know that he's Viktor. But he doesn't yet, and neither does anyone else. So to have Viktor consider why he dislikes the name "Viktor" and wants to change it is a little strange and not very well articulated when the name they're talking about is "Vanya".

I respect that Elliott Page prefers this attitude towards his identity pre-transition but in the context of fiction, and of Viktor specifically, I find it a little unneccesary and overly complicated.

Ben also "dies" temporarily on this mission and the medical inaccuracy continues to bug me.

s1 was so good at showing that they're still human and prone to injury. Diego ends up in a sling because of a bullet nick and Five is caught in an explosion he set off. But in the book Ben falls maybe 4 stories and is unresponsive, so Allison begins CPR without checking for a pulse or breathing. Ben is resuscitated almost immediately and has almost no complications from literally being dead after falling from that height.

It's not only completely disregarding the themes season 1 set, but also a really quite tacky fake-out.

The kids also drive to the party but forget the car and walk back in less time than it took to drive, and without shoes in Allison's case.

Grace is treated as though she is non-sentient. after all of the work and love and care that season 1 poured into showing that Grace did develop sentience, and the ability to love, to see her treated by every member of the academy (Diego isn't innocent either, though he is the nicest) as a machine is saddening.

in s1 she is trapped behind programming and unable to voice her opinions because of that. not because she wasn't sentient. her sentience and love for her children does peek through until she is eventually set free by Diego and Pogo.

her hint to Luther and Allison that she dissapproved of Reginald

her expressing her feelings of longing and loneliness through the painting she imitates

and then her immediately escaping the house with Diego to get out from under Pogo's watch and to confess her part in Reginald's plan

she is so much more than a robot that doesn't understand jokes, movie references, glitches when asked a question she doesn't know the answer to, and throws away clothes that her kids might want.

Ryan himself felt very underdeveloped. We know his powers, and that he's a very good manipulater/public speaker. We also know that he likes Bach and beer, but not modern music. He's lonely and trying to surround himself with friends and those loyal to him by gifting everyone powers.

but all we know of his origins is that he's from a small town called Dobbsville just upstate from the Academy. He dislikes his "friends" from there as they treated him like the only one without powers, and has a bad enough relationship with his family/guardians that he ran away to the City and gifted enough people powers that they let him live in their college dorm (probably illegally and) for free.

We don't know his last name, his family situation, the reason he ran away from home and towards the Academy when he feels fightened and threatened by them. etc etc.

He feels so open and undefined... it's so strange.

Good Things

because I did actually enjoy this book and maybe let's end on some compliments instead

Diego discovered his powers aged 2 & a half by throwing a knife and perfectly shattering a glass - and Reginald being pleased about it

Reginald told Viktor when he was 12 to take a pill anytime he felt uncomfortable - explaining why Viktor takes his pills after emotional upset rather than at a specific time in s1

The scene where they got dressed for the party was fun, I loved the rationale for their outfits and that Allison and Luther were dressed according to the old movies they'd watched rather than anything people would usually wear to parties.

Reginald manipulating them into going to the party just to neutralise Ryan. despite the continuity errors I loved that Reginald knew all along. I was about to be disappointed that they'd gone the route of making him oblivious but I loved this twist.

The Academy becoming unpopular due to Five's disappearance - he seems to be thought of as dead by the public which made them realise that they're not a "cute" organisation and then the support waned considerably until there's barelyanyone left who cares.

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua young blood #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves

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fantastic-nonsense · 2 years

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DC should give the Wonder Woman title to me instead of Tom King. I have whole arcs about Diana as a diplomat, politician, and teacher that I could write. DC PLEASE LET ME FIX HER JOB, DO AMAZONIAN WORLDBUILDING, AND BRING BACK HER CIVILIAN SUPPORTING CAST AGAIN!

Diana busts up an artifact smuggling ring and then has to deal with the international repatriation of ancient artifacts to their home countries. Bring back Helena Sandsmark and use Cassie in a supporting role.

Some major international incident occurs and Diana is running herself ragged trying to deal with it from multiple ends. She eventually has to choose between fulfilling her duty as Wonder Woman and dealing with the realities of being Themiscyra's official diplomatic presence at the UN.

Diana and Artemis have to work together to save some human trafficking victims and I get to write an exploration on the Themiscyran Amazons' isolationism vs. the Banas' interventionalism as methods of protection, self-defense, and dealing with collective trauma.

While setting up a cultural exchange project between the different Amazon tribes, Diana is appointed as the neutral representative to oversee an all-Amazonian Olympics/games festival. Shenanigans ensue as the goddesses start picking favorites and the games get gatecrashed by a mythological threat (aka "what Trial of the Amazons should have been about")

Diana, Artemis, and Donna decide to take Cassie and Yara on a traditional Amazonian coming-of-age journey. The story acts as a way to explore important touchstones of Amazon culture and the differing cultural and societal expectations they might face as adult women, both in their respective Amazonian tribes and in Man's World.

Nubia enlists Diana to go with her through Doom's Doorway to help retrieve some Amazons who were sucked in by a mythological threat while on guard duty. If they're still alive, they will be brought back to Themiscyra in celebration. If not, their bodies need to be retrieved for funerary rites and the women's re-entrance into the Well of Souls.

Exploring Donna as a linchpin connection point between the human world, all of the Amazon tribes, and the gods.

And so many others, because these are all largely Man's World and worldbuilding stories. Digging into her actual rogues gallery (Circe! Ares! Silver Swan! Doctor Poison!) and setting up bigger conflicts would be so much fun.

#I have just....soooo many ideas exploring Diana's role as a diplomat and teacher #SO MANY #LET ME WRITE THEM DC #dc comics #wonder woman #wonderfam #diana of themyscira #diana prince #donna troy #cassie sandsmark #yara flor #nubia of themyscira #artemis grace #writing ideas

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ilsolefiesta · 15 days

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my 2024 solar return predictions

it's 11 days until my solar return this year. perhaps I'll write about how I spent each day leading up to and after the Solar Return. but for now, I want to explore my Solar Chart for 2024. spoiler: I hope I won't die. literally. but let's be consequent. 1. Leo Rising in the 1°. it's a really interesting story about how fate can't be avoided. Initially, I thought I would meet my Solar Return at home, with my Ascendant in Cancer in the last degree. when I saw this, I said, "no way. I don't want to deal with family issues all year." so, I decided to go to another town. ironically, this 1° change affected the Sun either. initially it was in the 3rd house but with Leo Rising it moved to the 4th. so, being the ruler of the ASC, the 4th housed Sun still emphasizes the inevitable importance of family to me this year. alright, I've got it. but still, I hope Leo will still work out. I have plans to improve my appearance and solve problems in this area that have been bothering me for a long time. additionally, I want to activate my artistic potential and become more visible and active on social media. I don't expect to become a high-class celebrity, but still... moreover, the Solar ASC is located in my Natal 11th house, so I believe it should work well.

2. the 2nd and the 3rd Solar Houses are also in Leo, with their ruler, thein the 4th house (☌ with IC, actually). ◄ as for the 2nd house: as you may know, we begin to feel the effects of the upcoming Solar Chart before the Solar Return occurs. recently, I have felt a strong desire to pursue a remote job, or at least a part-time remote job from home in addition to my current one. perhaps I could do so and work from home if we consider the fourth house as a place of real estate. the Cusp of the 2nd Solar House falls in my Natal 11th house, so I may receive some assistance from friends? I will also look for other confirming signs... ◄ as for the 3rd house, the situation is more or less clear here. as this house is responsible for brothers and sisters... my little sister is now living with me (the ruler is in the 4th house, right?). the issue is that she has exams to graduate from school next summer, and she is now studying from home remotely (the Cusp of the 3rd Solar House is in the 12th Natal House). having Solar Virgo Mercury here, I am planning to be her tutor throughout the year. aside from my siblings, the Solar Mercury is in exact ☌ with my Natal ASC. moreover, I have both Mercury and the 1st house ruling this year in profection. I believe communication, connections, and education - all activities related to the 3d (Gemini) house - will be EXTREMELY highlighted this year. well, I hope so. it should be interesting. the connection with the 12th Natal House... will I continue writing about astrology? who knows. by the way, it's fun, but I already feel the urge to re-take an exam to receive a driving license that I gave up on last year (also the issue of the 3rd House).

3. I've already mentioned my 4th house a lot, and I want to add that I have Solar Virgo IC located in my 1st Natal house. my Solar 4th house Venus is in ☌ with my Natal 2nd house Venus in Libra. I am currently undergoing renovations at my place of residence. I need to paint the walls, buy a new bed, a high mirror etc... the upcoming beautification of my home is quite predictable, and it, obviously, requires money. so, hi, 2nd Natal House...

4. the 5, 6 house. interesting situation, because I little bit lack of ideas.

Solar House - Sign - Placements - SH Cusp in Natal House:

5H - Scorpio - Sagittarius Vertex ☌ Natal IC, Pluto, Chiron - 2H. 6H - Sagittarius - Pluto in Capricorn's last ° ☌ Solar Aquarius DSC and Part of Fortune - 4H.

overall connection of 4, 5, 6 and 7 houses... I also have Solar Juno in the 4th house. idk what is it, predestined relationship with someone different than me and related to my work? I've given up on relationships and prefer to see it as a business opportunity. I really hope that my artistic potential will be unlocked and that I can monetize my skills. with the 5th house Sagittarius Vertex on the Natal IC I may receive recognition or support from family or my homeland? or, maybe, on the contrary, Sagittarius will push me to aim outside? the Cusp of the 6th house in Sagittarius could add to this. there is also an interesting placement of Solar Pluto. the matter is that it aims to leave the 6th house and has ☌ with Solar DSC and Part of Fortune. I had a very... heavy 6th house for several last years, and I've been feeling overwhelmed by routine. perhaps this is a sign that my work process will change and I need to rely on partnerships more. If we consider it from a health perspective, I think I understand what changes it may bring to my daily routine. I'm planning to get braces this year. God bless, my Pluto this year is mostly positively aspected - being in the connection with the DSC it obviously ☍ ASC. And □ the 5th house. however, my Uranus is strong in Natal 5th house. + Solar Pluto makes △ with Solar Sun and Uranus. so I think everything will be fine, despite my fear of some unexpected health effects from Pluto. moreover, I have additional signs. but I'll write about them later.

5. DSC and the 7th house. it's the most difficult part for me to analyze, as I'm totally dumb with any relations. well, I have Part of Fortune in Aquarius ☌ Natal Neptune here. and I can't say for sure whether it will make my luck dream-like or make me completely blind and overestimate myself. well, DSC ruler Uranus is in the 11th house in Taurus, also placed in the 9th Natal House. the Solar DSC is in the 5th Natal House. please, I'm so tired of drama, please, can it be something fun, light and cool? (haha, Pluto ☌ is like "hello-hello, no, haha"...)

6. the 8 and 9th houses. both are in Aquarius.

the 8th Solar house, despite being empty, is located in the 5th Natal house. remember my question from the previous point? well, answer is "no" once again, I guess...

the ruler is in the Solar 11th house (in the Natal 9th). betrayal from friends? new foreign dangerous friends? some transforming experience with education and collectives? still, it's not that bad, my Natal 8th house (Aries) ruler is Mars in the 12th house, so should I be used to the 8th house things? however, Aquarius is still a little bit frightening with its unexpectedness...

the 9th house... the Moon and Saturn are here. exactly just like in my Natal, ha. guess, I shouldn't even hope to go travel abroad this year. again, like the whole life before. both the Moon and Saturn are in Pisces. despite my Natal Taurus Moon doesn't allow me to regret these restrictions too much, guess, Pisces Moon can make me more vulnerable to this topic throughout the year. I'll probably continue learning languages and maybe even make foreign friends with the ruler in the 11th house. also Solar Saturn ☌ Natal DSC in Pisces. probably it may signify someone older who can teach me how to communicate and maintain partnerships? yes, in Natal Chart Saturn is ruling my 5th house, but I prefer not to focus on relationships to avoid disappointment later.

7. the Solar MC is in Pisces. ☌ with the Solar Moon. the Cusp is in the 7th Natal house. Neptune, ruling the MC, is also here. again, some distortion of my career/public relations vision? am I in danger of underestimating something? it would be interesting to see how I will deal with this. the best of the best is starting right now. Aries North Node and Chiron in the 10th house. it could be great and maybe give me some energy an resources. however. the North Node is in ☌ with the Natal 8th Cusp. Chiron, consequently, is in the 8th Natal House either. does this mean that career development could harm me, or should I break myself and, regardless, develop leadership and inner resources for success in my career? it's scary. btw, Solar Chiron ☍ Solar Venus. I guess I'll continue to make my appearance far from "traditional venusian" - I've had this aspect this year either - tattoos, piercings etc.

8. the 11th Solar house in Taurus (the Cusp lies in the 8th Natal House). strange combination. from the one hand, it's absolutely not the best placement. on the other hand, benefic Jupiter is here. on the OTHER hand, it's essentially weak (in Gemini) and has □ with the Sun, Moon, IC and 10th house. on the OTHER hand, it has the same sign I have in my Natal Chart and it's considered to be beneficial... hardly understand what to expect from Jupiter. especially as I had hoped for blessings from having it in the 1st house this year, but nothing "jupiterial" happened at all. Uranus is also here, so I anticipate some changes in relationships with friends and possibly a shift in understanding of myself within the group. also having Solar Taurus Uranus close to my Natal Saturn, along with other placements, makes me slightly anxious about my elderly. hope, everything will be fine.

9. the last one. the Solar 12th house in Gemini. it can bring cognitive difficulties or doubts about intellectual capacity and proficiency, especially for those with Mercury as a dominant planet (me). however, I believe that this can be compensated by a strong Solar Mercury placement. the problem is that I have Cancer Mars in the 12th house and this damn Mars makes □ to the Natal 8th house and the Solar North Node. and I remember all the scary placements, like Pluto and Chiron, as well as the North Node. I was still trying to maintain my composure at that point. and what else?! Mars? amazing. I really hope I won't die or become seriously ill or injured, nor will my loved ones. btw, the connected 6, 8 and 12 houses in Solar Chart are the main indicators of some disastrous events, and I pray that this year will be a year of great transformation, not a year of losing something or someone important..

that's how it is.

Thank you for reading!

Picture credits: Pinterest

#astrology #astro community #astro notes #astro observations #astrology thoughts #astrology tumblr #astrology placements #solar return #solar return observations

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sophsicle · 19 days

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you mentioned being jealous of the idea of the marauders in the hunger games but couldn’t you still write something of the sorts? i feel like a bunch of fics occur in the same spaces…or is it like when you see someone’s paper and can only think of the way they’re formulating an argument? also all this hate is so stupid literature is subjective and we should all love eachother🤓❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you, zar and all the other fic writers deserve all the love!!

Yeah i mean, of course, you can always write your own version of an au.

but i think for me it's only fun if i feel unfulfilled by the versions that already exist. like if i read something and i'm like "there is so much wasted potential here to explore this plot or this character arc or this relationship" then that makes me want to write something, but that is not how i feel with CR

it's a bit like, obviously people can, and do, write long canon compliant wolfstar fics, but for me, atyd already exists, and while it's not necessarily my version of those characters, it's close enough that i feel like that story has been told 4 me, and i don't really see any new stuff for me to add

i don't think i could write a better cross over than zar did (in fact, like i said before, i think in general i would have written a worse au, because i don't think i could have mixed those stories as cleverly as they did), literally all i would add is more death and tragedy and like, no one would get married at the end and everyone would be sad and depressed :)

#i would have 1000% killed sirius #but i usually think sirius should die #soph rambles

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magpod-confessions · 3 months

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the thing about literary analysis and media criticism is that everything is fair game AND sometimes things aren't that deep. someone could write an impassioned , thoughtful meta about Needles but he's still gonna be a Funny Little Guy, horrible edition. but: maybe the meta writer wants to explore body horror vs bodily autonomy and the role of piercings in individual queer empowerment narratives, and they give it some thought and say 'this is a way Needles can be read.' and that's legit!

there's also a difference between listening to magnus like it's a story and listening to magnus like it's a puzzle. it's really apparent in how much tmagp meta reads like a continuation of the ARG: people making spreadsheets and notes and figurative (perhaps literal?) red string boards (which is also a thing people liked to do while tma was airing, too, i'm not trying to point fingers at protocol in particular). the coffee/tea people say that the oiar crew's hot beverage of choice symbolises their ties to either protocol-verse or archives-verse, but what a lot of them seem to mean is not that coffee/tea are symbols, but that they're *clues.* (personally I don't think it's either, but am prepared to be wrong about this.) because tmagp is still so new, too, it's harder to understand if/how it's operating on an overarching thematic level; we can't see the forest because the trees are still saplings.

when people say things like "the fears are capitalism," I mean. the fears are a pretty good allegory for the systems of power and oppression that, in their avarice, seek endless and complete consumption of the very resources (people) that keep them alive. the web is a great image for the inconceivably complex systems that surround and entrap us, whether we're a fly or a society. at the same time, the fears/the fear entity is literally an extradimensional force beyond human comprehension that must feed off the terror of other living beings and seeks to expand its reach across the multiverse. the fears are also scary because being trapped in a cave is scary, and the endless void of space is scary, and clowns are scary, y'know?

so I think my hot take is that critical engagement with media and textual analysis and interpretation and meta of all kinds is fun and rewarding, but that while stories generally have literal meanings (they've got a plot, they've got characters, things occur), they don't tend to produce clean solutions. if the magnus archives were two sentences long ("exploitation is bad and we are probably mostly doomed. you should still try I guess, and also care about people," for example) it would be a lot less memorable!

#magpod #tmagp #the magnus protocol #magpod confession

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lotus-tower · 5 months

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thinking about true robot/AI characters again. if 'personality' or 'identity' can be loosely thought of as what makes a being uniquely themselves, a robot's personality would lie in what differentiates them from other robots of the same make and program. but by design, programs shouldn't differ from each other--inconsistency is the exact opposite of what you want. what differentiates a robot then would lie in deviations from the norm, i.e. glitches. but programs will frequently have "known glitches" where the same type of error will occur semi-regularly. this wouldn't differentiate one instance of a program from another. lived experience would help in shaping others' perceptions but not really the crux of the matter, because no one thinks of "my excel" versus their co-worker's excel, even if those two excels are used to do totally different things. maybe then what creates more unique glitches is a physical defect in the hardware. a form of the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, maybe. the 'personality' of the robot wouldn't be their general affect or behaviour, because those would be dictated by their programming and i have no interest in sentient robots, but rather in that tiny little kernel of deviation. well, at least internally. at the end of a day a robot is an object, and what makes objects meaningful is quite literally just what the person on the other end feels. a plushie can be just a mass-produced toy to everyone on earth except one person, to whom it's a companion they've shared years of adventures with. and it wouldn't correct to say that that plushie is the latter to someone who's seeing it for the first time, but it would also be silly to act like the plushie's "objective" (!) characteristic as a mass-produced toy somehow interferes with that one person's view of it.

there's loads to analyze and question about our relationships to objects and how they change depending on context, but i think what i'm most interested in is how robot characters by and large are not thought of as objects at all, but as people. this is for obvious reasons, but i think it's also rather boring. i like fantasy and sci-fi that explore different types of subjectivities altogether, including ones that maybe aren't "subjectivities" in the way we usually mean it. an AI program is inherently a "personality" that you can only experience from a second person perspective. that person is "just" a chinese room. but just like the plushie example, why should that prevent others from creating a unique bond and perception of the AI, as an object rather than as a person? a robot like that would essentially be a different thing/person to different characters, in a way different from how people are different people to different people. i think it would be really fun and interesting to explore the interplay between an entity's "soul" (for the lack of a better term) being in the eyes of the beholder, a soul that literally takes shape outside of the body, without agency. a robot's personality can only be experienced from the second person perspective, but by experiencing it you are also literally hosting it, in both senses.

honestly you could go in so many different directions with this, depending on what kind of story you're trying to tell. whether it's you, or you're it, or it's itself and you're you, or both but only in one direction. there simply needs to be more "speculative fiction" that actually speculates about things other than, what if there was something that was exactly like real life. but with a different name and simpler

#more stuff that blurs the line between objecthood and personhood that isn't just about real world objectification please #i need. to finish reading ornamentalism. and i guess. ugh. i guess i need to read more sci-fi....

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celestialaviva · 2 months

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hi again! 👋 hope you don’t mind me coming back with a few more questions about the creator’s assistant au :D

do/did any of the cg, aside from green and purple, know or live with their birth parents? if not, do they remember anything about their parents (or other family members)?

speaking of parents: how’d mango and purple come to meet? and does green have any relation to mango, too, or did mango only adopt purple?

what role does gold play in this au? if he’s alive, what’s his relationship with purple?

any ideas/concepts for any of the dungeons so far? i think you’ve mentioned a sound dungeon and a plant dungeon in your other posts.. what other dungeon(s) do the cg + purple explore? :o

if you could describe each of the cg (+purple) in this au in one word, what would it be? also, i love your designs for everyone! esp how you draw their expressions; who in this au’s the most fun to draw?

i will possibly return with more later, but once more: that’s all for now :D feel free to answer any/all/none of these if you’d like, and have a wonderful rest of your day! *gives cookie*

Hello again! :0

I don't mind at all! Im glad with more questions UvU

You're always free to ask more! :3

1. All of the cg are orphans, and half of them remember their parents. Besides Green and Purple, Blue definitely still remembers hers and she adored them. Red and Yellow barely remember theirs. And... hm, I guess Orange is kind of a different story. Though, can you call him an orphan if Alan, his Avatar, is his guardian?

2. Well fhbfkf this is still something Im trying to figure out too. I will say, Mango only adopts Purple, and Green never gets to meet Mango at all. Here's how it kind of goes:

A tragedy occurs within the Heath family and Purple and Green sadly get separated. Purple is left behind at the slums with their parents. The two never see each other again (at least for a decade). Some time after this, the slums get burned down, but Purple was outside of the slums and he was barred from getting back inside. You can guess what happened to their parents...

Purple, being a coder and now a fresh orphan, is at risk of getting captured and becoming a slave.

For some reason somehow, Mango visits this kingdom. I do not know what for, or how yet, but he eventually finds Purple and takes him in. Mayhaps, he noticed Purp was one of the few coders in this kingdom? Nevertheless, he knows the kid was at risk for slavery. He certainly does not want that to happen to his fellow coders, especially the kids.

3. Sadly, Gold isn't alive in this AU. But! He serves as the reason Mango does what he does. If he were alive, Mango probably wouldn't be the chancellor of the prestigious coder school he founded, nor I guess, the ruler of his nation of coders. You could say his nation's the safe haven for coders, in the same way Acadia's kingdom's the safe haven for slaves from all backgrounds.

4. For now, the sound and plant dungeons are the main dungeons I have in the AU

I do want to add more, but due to the current concept of dungeons being tests to determine a potential ruler's candidate, which is more serious than a typical dungeon that isn't raised by an Assistant, it's kind of hard to really be flexible with them. I mean! The dungeons themselves, I like to imagine the environments inside them are unique depending on the Avatar that rules over them. The Avatars make their own rules for each of their own domains. But the rules surrounding dungeons are.... Uh

Okay. I'll be rambling- forgive me fjbskfbdk

It's a system.

First, the Assistants raise the dungeons. Then there would be people either chosen by the Assistants or simply ambitious enough who enter them with the goal of clearing the dungeon.

Avatars are beings that rule the dungeons. They oversee these people, and make them go through their handcrafted trial rooms. They are the reason dungeons in this world are known to be holes of death.

Whoever clears their dungeon will not only get you riches, but also the title of Ruler's Candidate and the power of the Dungeon Master themselves. The Avatar would usually choose whatever metal object on the Candidate's person, and make it their vessel. From then on, the Avatar will stay by their Candidate's side, allowing them to use their powers 'til the Candidate's death. They also serve as the main indicator the Candidate is, well, a Ruler's Candidate, who has captured a dungeon.

When a Candidate dies, the Avatar will then leave their vessel, and wait until an Assistant raises their dungeon once again. And that process starts all over.

A Candidate can have more than one Avatar vessel, meaning yes- they are allowed to conquer more dungeons- but to even achieve your 2nd Avatar, you'd need to be skilled with your first. Because Im pretty sure that an Avatar can sense a Candidate and their vessel, which would for sure push them to make trials hell.

.....That said, I just have no ideas beyond the sound and plant dungeons. The cg will absolutely die if they're not careful in these dungeons.

They're pretty important, for me personally. If the cg entered other dungeons, then they probably wouldn't be the kind of dungeons the Assistants raise. Though this is just a recent idea- so I need to think about this more. I do lean more to the idea of dungeons under the Candidate system being the only type of dungeon in this world. The world is magical enough outside of them I think.

The sound dungeon is the first dungeon introduced, in the same arc Orange, Green, and Red are introduced. The whole cg haven't met yet.

I don't have art of the Avatars yet so just have these. The notes are a lil old and some of these will most likely change, but the sound dungeon is ruled by Melodaize, the Sound Avatar.

The plant dungeon is the second dungeon introduced, but this time all of the cg are together (minus Purple, he's not really part of the cg's adventures). It is ruled by Bay Lauvar.

Avatars do in fact have minds of their own. Though they do follow the same system the Assistants follow to ensure a Ruler's Candidate, it doesn't mean they can't. . well. Be assholes, lmao. Think of Bay Lauvar like Dark in this AU. Maliciously compliant to the system.

Because Avatars have minds of their own, they have the ability to choose their vessel. Usually they would choose who they deem worthy for the Candidate title. In Bay's case, even though Green has an Avatar and is already a Candidate, they would choose Blue as their vessel, making her a Ruler's Candidate. Mostly because Green is in fact not skilled with his Avatar, and also Bay dislikes him- actually dislikes the whole cg, except for Orange and Blue.

Honestly, so much happens in the plant dungeon! But I only got stray moments in mind fjtkhkg-

The cg nearly die here. They were not ready to tackle another dungeon, but Bay isn't at complete fault for the cg nearly dying.....I guess, mostly at fault for Blue losing her legs- but they're not at fault for Green falling into a coma.

I do have a few thoughts for other dungeons- but they would be dungeons Chosen led his Candidate Freedom Guy Acadia in, when they were still around.

Anyway.

Sorry for rambling- hope this answers the question xbhfifbfj

5. That sounds fun :0 Hmmm

Orange: Innocent, perhaps? And I guess he comes off really naive and ignorant, to an extent. Green unfortunately has to deal with it, just like the unwilling big brother he is.

Green: Sly. He's greedy, and deceitful. Though pretty approachable for personal gain. I mean. Why else would he keep Orange around at first? But well, in Orange's view, he knows he cares about him more than that at least.

Red: Spontaneous. I find him very driven by emotions, and while I do think he may be impulsive at times due to them, it's not like he doesn't think about what he does often.

Blue: Sweetheart. Listen. She seems mom friend to me. She's very kind and compassionate and huggable.

Yellow: Cowardly. It's not like she's shy or a nervous wreck or anything. Rather, she's weak willed. She isn't very confident in herself either.

Purple: Prideful. He's kind of a tiny bit of an asshole and certainly confident in himself. I also think somehow he's doing better than the rest of the cg mental health-wise funnily enough. Not completely, but still lmao

And thank you! Im so glad you like them! ;0;

Hmm, overall, I guess Chosen? He's just very simple for me to draw, and I like drawing his hair. Within the cg, I find lil Orange fun to draw too! His curly hair's a tiny bit of a struggle- though thankfully not as much as when I first drew Green's hair- but still, fun! Wavy curly swoopies my beloved

Thank you for all the questions! And the cookie ;v;

I hope you have a wonderful day too! 💕

#mailbox 📬#conceptstuff #alan becker #animator vs animation #animator vs animations au #Creator's Assistant AU

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neonthewrite · 3 months

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For the G/t Asks Posts:

Questions 2#, 5#, 14#, and 20# for the first part of the asks, any character/s that are on your mind, are fine.

( Ask game here )

If your character could choose, would they be a different size?

I think Chase Lisong would be very entertained by the thought of size changing. He'd do it just to mess around with different heights. Make himself taller than Jacob for a bit. Then spend some time shorter than a french fry. He'd go with the flow a lot better than most of my other characters.

There's also Elias Dawn. He can choose, if he wants, to change size. It just hasn't occurred to him yet in any story I've written so far.

Your characters favorite way to be carried/carry someone?

Elias likes being a perch. Having a pixie land on his shoulder or his head feels like being trusted, and he appreciates that.

Adrian, in AUs where he's small, doesn't like to be carried in hand (or touched at all, of course). He appreciates that the humans around him figure out alternatives to that, so they still have the option to help him get around faster without physically holding him. The effort means a lot to him! Plus it's kinda fun to cling to a harness or string that's being carried along. Very thrilling!

An au you’d like to explore someday?

Honestly I'd like to do more for the Bowman of the Garden AU. I think there's a lot of promise in that one, with just the simple adjustment of Bowman already knowing what humans are and what some of their "human magic" is. I just haven't gotten back around to it since writing the first bit.

Random fun fact about character please

Bowman was a winter birth. His birthday would be sometime in January, if Wellwood sprites kept track of birthdays.

#ask game #chase lisong #bowman leafwing #jacob andris #adrian kennet #elias dawn

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roadandruingame · 2 months

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RaR Musings #24: The Pillars, and Foundations

I wrote this like seven times and then a power failure killed it, so now I get to do it again! And keep it brief!

I watched a PointyHat youtube video on Why Travel Sucks in DND, where he outlines such issues as lack of creativity, excessive bookkeeping, random tables, and failing the non-combat pillars of DND, while he presents an alternative he'd worked on for two years and was quite happy with.

It sucks.

It's nothing against PointyHat, or his system, no; it's good that he has fun with it, and that it presents some better, stronger harder faster more reliable and predictable patterns to help structure campaigns that take place on the road.

It simply sucks, in that it is attempting to utilize the three 'pillars' of Dungeons and Dragons, being Combat, Roleplay, and Exploration, which has always been less of a triad, and more of a single, enormously looming single pillar that more resembles flipping the bird to the other two.

Dungeons and Dragons commits some >80% of it's rules and character-building options to combat. If you rolled a bunch of dice, to randomize combatants and equipment, initiative order, attack rolls and damage inflicted, you could still qualitatively read those numbers to determine who had won the combat, the human fighter with the axe, or the goblin with the shortsword. The "order" of the mechanics for combat allows this to occur. "Roleplay" and "Exploration", however, both cap out their rules at "roll a d20 and add your proficiency modifier, if whatever imaginary scenario we're pretending is happening calls for it, and if the number is high enough, You Win."

A system simplifying travel to "a number of events per distance" presents the same mechanics as what a hexgrid entails, just without the risk of player agency and going off-road, because, truthfully, the biggest threat to a good story is the players themselves. A DM might have spent hours, days, weeks, months, or even years curating a perfectly constructed narrative, but all it takes is for one wayward die roll or a player saying "nah, I'm not doing that", and the DM suddenly requires expect-level improv, comedy, literary novelist, and "know it all" expertise that rivals the likes of McGuiver himself to pull a satisfying narrative out of thin air. Preventing player choice from entering the matter of "what direction do we go" might lessen the load of the DM, but it puts the entire experience on rails, tourists at a fantasy-land theme park of the DM's creation, here to ride the rides, and then get out.

A system that neglects provisions and supplies renders those unusable as storytelling elements, when food, supplies, a bath, and good rest in a town are often what propels characters to those locations, on their way to a greater destination, and without them, there's no need to have towns at all. PointyHat himself uses clips from Avatar: The Last Airbender in his video, a series that spends more than half the runtime somewhere out on the road, complaining that they have no food, no money, need a bath, medicine, or some other side objective that requires them to make detours or stops along the way.

But, all of this did manage to pose an interesting question to me, even beyond "what mechanics SHOULD be used for Roleplay and Exploration":

What are the pillars of TTRPGS themselves? If a game has no combat, what replaces it? Is roleplay a universal element to ttrpgs? If PointyHat's system "recommends tying events between locations together with story", but otherwise has no mechanics for how to actually do that, then clearly that's an important element as well, but what defines Exploration? If there is combat, does defeat end in death, some other consequence, or no consequence at all, and if there are variable consequences, who decides what they are, and if there are no consequences, then what's even the point?

After thinking about it for a while, I decided that ttrpgs consist of three pillars, that I'm calling the Three R's:

RELATIONSHIPS - Rather than exclusively between people, Relationships can also be called Story; that is, anything that ties consequence and causality to the experience. Falling off a cliff, and taking damage from the fall, is a relationship, the same as failing to deliver a package and losing a merchant's trust is a relationship, or being able to translate runes, that leads you to a secret room that's filled with treasure. This element is singularly ignored by most tabletop RPGs, instead putting more work into a box of tools that you can use to Cause, or help bandage up after an Effect, but very little that actually ties one thing to another in a way that forms a story.

REALISM - Also called predictability and reliability, these are facets of the game that can be trusted to work the same way every time. Need one scrap of food per day, and travelling for seven days? That's seven pieces of food. Fire burns, water douses, grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and fighters hurt people. This reliability is the bulk of 'eurogames', and heavily prioritize player skill over randomness like 'ameritrash' does. Predictability and consistency is necessary in a fantasy world especially, in order to communicate to the players what kind of moves are even possible to do, so that the fighter doesn't think they can 1v1 a five-tonne dragon. This is also the element of resources, where a resource spent or lost consistently has predictable consequences and effects: using a bandage stops bleeding, for example.

RANDOMNESS - Also called chance, and statistical probabilities, this element ends up bearing the brunt of most dice- or card-oriented games, though the extent of the randomness gives rise to manipulation of odds, without ever fully eliminating them. This 'gamble' means players who understand the odds, who can alter them with certain variables, and who understand and covet the value of success, however slim the chances, can take a plunge, and still be surprised at an outcome. This is also the element of excitement.

What's important about these pillars, and what makes them different from DND's, is that none of them exist independently. They are each of them intermingled and entwined with the other: a story that carries no risk of failure or too much reliability is boring, and a random dice throw with no promise of lasting, cascading consequences, or resource lost or gained, becomes a game of Snakes and Ladders, randomly generating values until someone is declared the winner.

And so, if you were to boil these three pillars down again, into a singular equation for what makes a ttrpg what it is? How do players engage with the game, that makes the activity different from, say, chess, or monopoly, or a game of snakes and ladders?

"A roleplaying game is about inventing theories, that are then proven, or disproven, by dice, that have their outcomes manipulated by previously-occurring characters and events."

This is it. This is all DND is, and all any other ttrpg will ever be.

Returning again for a moment to the title of this piece, there is one other element of ttrpgs that is, generally, indisputable: the role of a Game Master.

Granted, there are other GM-less games. But in every circumstance, there is someone who took the player's potential actions in mind, and constructed a hypothetical where that player's theorized action either succeeded, or failed, and effectively hallucinated a world into being that would be affected by said attempt. In the case of "choose your own adventure" games, players are presented with predetermined choices, that then lead to predetermined outcomes, written by a writer, who takes the role of the GM in such a case.

Where there are the Three Pillars of Relations, Realism, and Randomness, there is also the foundation of what holds those pillars up: the contributions of the players themselves, the willingness to contribute, and the acceptance of the result.

Time and again, I've seen ttrpg tables collapse into juvenile bickering, as a result of one of these four elements. That the story is weak, or the characters don't matter, or that the rolls are too random, or not random enough, that the GM fudges dice, that resource-tracking is boring, or that there's not enough consequences for those resources or the player's actions. And somehow, all of this responsibility tends to fall squarely on the GM's shoulders, the sole Atlas carrying the entire production on their back. If the GM falters, or fails to appear, there simply is no game. It's over. Some players help pick up the slack, take on responsibilities to lighten the load, but the load is always and forever the GM's.

We end up in situations like PointyHat's two-year experiment with travel mechanics, and while he cleaves closely to the three pillars above, he still defaults to the three DND pillars in the end. His usage document spews dozens of great storytelling-based examples for each of the Combat, Exploration, and Roleplay event types, and mixes of the two, but in the end, it's still JUST HIM coming up with these story narratives out of whole cloth. Remove him from the scenario, and you wind up with players who are incapable of playing the game on their own.

It's part of why, now more than ever, I feel like ttrpgs need to turn toward game mechanics that, at least in part, bring the players in to the responsibilities of running the game, and that can reliably produce certain results without some kind of dice-addled soothsayer reading the knucklebones like the portents of the gods in the hopes of producing an experience that players will reliably want to actually DO, over other entertainment alternatives like a videogame or movie. Or, indeed, any other medium that doesn't require them, the consumer, to contribute whatsoever to the betterment of their own experience, content to remain lax, and demand their personal dancing monkey for the evening pick up the pace and put a little more energy into it.

I'm personally pretty proud of Road and Ruin's Story Roster system; about as proud as PointyHat is about his, at any rate. But I'm proud of it as a system that aims to completely replace some GM responsibilities altogether, not just act as a series of instructions that ultimately ends in a need for GM creativity itself. I'm a ways away from it being done, and still hesitant about whether it should include example items and prebuilt characters for every single card in the Roundtable Deck, but at the very least, I feel like I've gotten closer to the core of what a ttrpg needs to be than in other products I've seen.

#indie ttrpg #road and ruin #ttrpg #ttrpg design

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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I’m screaming Clyde, what WAS that epilogue?! Also since semblances were just a discussion did you notice the moment when the guy tripped and Qrow caught him THEN we see the pin? Which is probably calling back to the mine incident where he tripped and Clover caught him? But now he’s kinda in the unique position of causing both. Looks like Qrow did indeed get a semblance upgrade without explanation. Maybe that’s why he’s so dang happy lol

Oh man you're right! That callback didn't occur to me, but it seems too big a coincidence to not be a callback. Yeah, I'm wondering now if we're meant to take this as further evidence that Qrow's semblance has evolved into a kind of...equalizer? The man near him still trips (bad luck) but now Qrow, in a mirror of Clover and his own good luck semblance, is able to catch him with a smile. I mean yeah, we could simply chalk that up to Huntsmen reflexes, but it seems a little too on-the-nose to not be meaningful, particularly after the miraculous save on the airship. That begs the question though of what this actually means for Qrow moving forward. I mean, if he has good luck and bad luck now, don't they just cancel each other out? That's just normal luck. Congrats, your semblance makes you like everyone else where some good things and some bad things happen in your vicinity.

Ngl, after RWBY semi-canonically introduced the concept of some semblances severely impacting mental heath via Ironwood, my mind immediately jumped to the possibility of Qrow's upgrade coloring his reaction to everything. Not that I think this is actually happening in the story (and not that I'd want RT to attempt such a story-line), but from a fun AU possibility my brain went, "Qrow is acting all content and optimistic after everything in his life has gone to shit. Salem won back in Atlas, she's two steps closer to destroying the world, a whole Kingdom is dead/displaced, his nieces are presumably dead and at some point he's going to have to tell Tai that... and yet he's smiling. Not even in a 'I'm holding it together through extreme denial' way, but acknowledging that yes, he's actually, surprisingly happy. That doesn't make sense! I wonder if this spontaneous upgrade that presumably revolves around generically Good Things is fucking with his head somehow." In more nuanced and respectful hands, it might be interesting to explore what it means for a magic-based power to influence someone's mood. Can it be equated to medication? Is it seen as an "unnatural" version of who they are (something that, again like meds, could be a bias the show works to unpack)? As events unfold, is it revealed that his semblance simply gives him a stronger, more optimistic will for shouldering such tragedy, or does it become clear that he's not reacting appropriately to what everyone recognizes as—formerly for him—crippling emotional blows? There's a difference between, "My semblance keeps me from sinking back into my self-destructive depression. No, I'm not like who I was before and that's a good thing" vs. "Ruby? Yang? Uh... sure. I guess I miss them? I recognize that I'm supposed to miss them... but I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be? They did a good thing, those girls, trying to save the world and all, but now it's time to move on. Chins up, everyone! :)"

In my attempts to work through Qrow's everything from the epilogue, I'm also dying to know how long has passed. This is one of those times when a firmer timeline makes a huge difference because it can make or break our acceptance of these characterizations. How long did it take for them to accept that Team RWBY aren't coming back? How long passed after that when Qrow goes to wipe dust off the grave? If it's, say, a few days or weeks then I'm like hey wtf they should still be DEVASTATED. If, however, we've jumped forward six months, a year... that at least makes a little more sense. I don't like that we've skipped over all the cliffhanger conflicts of Volume 8 as well as a long-term grieving arc for every character that would fundamentally change who they are and their approach to this war... but I find that slightly easier to swallow then Qrow strutting around the new slums with a smile on his face, happily telling the ghosts of his dead family that he's doing surprisingly good during the end of the world.

Also, in the realm of skipped-over character growth, I saw someone point out that Oscar's tiny smile at the group's arrival... might not be Oscar's. Or might not be Ozpin's. God knows the writers have proven that they don't know how to write the merge on screen—they just keep insisting it's happening without either of them changing in any meaningful way—so this would be the perfect opportunity for them to just skip over all the important bits and land on the final product, a la Oscar getting over his crisis in Volume 6. If we hypothesize based on what RWBY has shown us before (ha) we should expect for Ozpin to be gone for good and Oscar is now in control, but with mannerisms and knowledge that he's never displayed before; a fundamental shift in his personality. After all, we never got to hear Ozpin the host. The show acts like Ozma existed on his own after a certain point, a body without a voice in his head anymore, but living as a, you know, merged version of himself and whoever was last with him. Which I hate! And Oscar hated it too, as evidence by him understandably freaking out about it, but the story never bothered to let him work through that. (Or just solve it with the magical aura machine + android bodies that have already been introduced.) As a favorite of mine, I'm not looking forward to being told that they've merged now. It's not Oscar. It's not Ozpin. It's someone who sounds like both at times, but really the characters you enjoyed are gone... without fully being gone. Combined with worry that Ironwood might come back—someone commented that the "Don't come back" was directed at Weiss, though that doesn't make any sense to me?—if we do get Volume 10 I can't help but think that, like Penny, the writers aren't going to leave these characters alone, despite them supposedly having left the story.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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