#Like its all fun and games to a certain point but please know that there is more to this literature.

[the-monkey-ruler]

Oh neat, so there are shows that don’t follow the book all too much. Twitter gave me the impression that’s a no-no in china. Glad to see it’s just fans being oddly protective of canon.

Listen... I LOVE JTTW media... hence that's why I am collecting it and listing it.

I mean there are HUNDREDS of interpretations of Journey to the West and while I am not an expert in media I do know that in most cases a lot of projects in Chine are either big-budget movies, passion projects, or even cash-grabs but either way, the range is long and wide. I personally know that when it comes to categorizing so many interpretations there are bound to be…. some more disappointing material than others but that just means highlighting other media even more!! If there is something one media a person doesn’t enjoy the good news!! There are HUNDREDS of other media out there for you! There is a journey to the west story out there for everyone and I think anyone can enjoy it!

However, the thing to keep in mind is that... JTTW is a culturally important piece of literature in China and while interpretations can range from silly to serious, romance to action, modern to historical, there is always a nod to the original source material to show an understanding of people who grew up with this story their whole lives and already are generally aware of the cultural significance the story has had with literature, history, or even modern culture. Just the causal saturation of JTTW in everyday lives for people that grew up with this story. These interpretations are a kind of consistent continuation of the story, that no matter what generation there is always going to be a new movie or a new television that gets another generation of people to know and love the original source material.

Of course, this kinda material, at least personally, can be very meaningful to those that grew up with it because it's not only culturally important but also it's nostalgic in a way that non-natives can find hard to understand. I like to think that sharing JTTW is always great in that others can be introduced to the literature and become interested! However, people who aren't familiar with JTTW and haven't been surrounded by mass amounts of media their whole lives. Non-natives aren't familiar with the religious or historical context within the story and easily glossed over these aspects if they only consume movie or television media of this literature. Usually,

Westerners that are familiar with the material are only subjected to one of the many interpretations that are inspired by JTTW but not the actual material itself. Westerners haven't been saturated in the causal references of seeing these stories and understanding when media is being satirical or sincere when it comes to the OG story. The OG story has been told again and again many times but that's because people who have grown up with the story have a general understanding of what it means to be just another adaptation versus something that is supposed to represent a true retelling of the story for those that are no familiar to the OG story and is meant to be an introduction to the story.

People who have grown up with these stories are never going to take most of these adaptions as anything more but an enjoyable interpretation of the beloved cultural piece they are familiar with and are able to separate the interpretation from the OG. I think the real issue when it comes to people not familiar with this tale, consume media is that is often taken as 'fact' and anything that lay outside this first impression can lead to misunderstandings and arguments, especially when people disregard the original tale if it doesn't fit their first interpretation. While this may be a very great piece of media or very enjoyable there is a general understanding that is it only one of the many that there are, and many there will ever be.

There are a lot of layers to JTTW and it's understandable that people who have not been saturated in this culture are not away of it, so when natives try to correct or even protect their culture from non-natives' interpretations or misinformation there is a mind to please be culturally sensitive to learning new things. JTTW has historical and religious importance represented within it the tale and non-natives can make the mistake of invalidating these beliefs or figures by only consuming surface-level media.

I love JTTW media, good or bad, I want to count all mediums to how this story has been told and re-told over and over again throughout the decades not to show 'hey this can be taken in any context with no repercussions' but rather to show people that 'hey there are a lot of ways that this story has been interpreted so if you do not like one then you can see another, perhaps even be inspired to learn more of the material.' I love spreading information but there needs to be a general acknowledgment as great as JTTW is just a piece of media it all started from being such a culturally important and impactful piece of literature able to masterly combine Buddhism, Daoism, and Chinese folklore.

There has been a history of Western media... being insensitive to Eastern cultures and as such, I understand why there is a protectiveness over something like JTTW when it comes to non-natives perhaps misunderstanding or being unaware of the more important aspects of the media. Most, if not all JTTW media, is not made for people who KNOW about JTTW. JTTW media is created for people that already know the OG and already enjoy it, usually looking to find an easily consumable way to enjoy this literature through a different medium without having to read 100 chapters. Watching a piece of JTTW media doesn't make someone an expert in JTTW nor does it make them more familiar with Chinese culture. An individual has to take it upon themself to find out more about the OG JTTW, and again in my personal opinion, I believe that it makes JTTW media even more enjoyable as you have a deeper understanding of how these interpretations were created.

[munch-mumbles]

while im here i have more exodus thoughts im SO CONFLICTED ON IT. more in tags as per use

[markerofthemidnight]

Turbo (vs) Time

(THIS PALE SHITLORD HAS INVADED MY MIND LIKE ITS NAME IS SUGAR RUSH PLEASE HELP)

Okay but we need to start talking about just how interesting Turbo is as a concept.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are talking about an old 80s video game character whose game was fun enough to be considered popular in its heyday, but quickly aged terribly as more complex competitors came along, to the point where nowadays he’s willing to go to all kinds of lengths just to stay relevant.

We are talking about the indignant wrath of an outdated media character who refuses to accept that the world is done with him.

And you know what? Of course he does. Because, not only is that a difficult thing to come to terms with, but he’s the protagonist of a racing game. He’s programmed to want to be the best, no matter what happens.

But still, no matter how fast he goes, eventually he’ll always lose at the most important race of all: the race against time.

…With that in mind, the name ‘Turbo Time’ is actually pretty poetic. Because Turbo time comes… and then it goes, never to be seen again. Like a certain arcade cabinet.

That’s his real enemy here. It was never Vanellope, it was never RoadBlasters: it was what both of them meant for him. That times are changing, and he’s not fast enough to keep up.

And that’s not fair for him: of course it’s not! What is a racer who can’t keep up? Who is Turbo, if he isn’t the best? And how is it that games like Fix-It Felix Jr. and PacMan have stayed in the arcade this whole time, but he is one of the first to go?! What do they have that he doesn’t?!

There’s… there’s not really an answer to that question. More engaging gameplay that would stand the test of time and wouldn’t be replaced so easily, perhaps.

And… god, with all this in mind, the (lack of) treatment he gets in Ralph Breaks the Internet is actually poetic too, as stupid as it is. The second his rule is successfully toppled by a competitor… the world just forgets about him, like that fateful day all those years ago.

Also, headcanon time: I like to think Turbo Time was made by a pretty big company with other popular games, that had no reason to try and save it once competition started rolling in and the game became less and less popular.

Why? Because, if this were true, it’d be very likely that, out of all the Turbos in all the Turbo Times in the world… he’s the last one left.

And I dread to think how he’d react if he ever found that out.

[ko-existing]

Revel in the sea of ​​infinite SELF’s intelligent energetic effects

by Being_is_IT / Twitter

Reader: Sir, that’s great! This is indeed the case. When you get up in the morning and take a walk, you step on it and listen to the friction of the grass under your feet and the dewdrops splash. At the same time, you feel that all dimensions are unfolding simultaneously at this moment.

The grand and indescribable feeling can be experienced by yourself at once. I understand what you said..., I am truly convinced..., Thank you sir. Indeed, as you said, I am becoming more and more aware that nothing is certain. No matter what my mind says, I know it is not the case. More importantly, I can feel that everything is inseparable at any time. It is she (SELF) who is doing everything, but nothing I can be certain about, I can only experience it…

BeingIs: Be grateful to SELF, rather than to be grateful to someone. Better yet, instead of being grateful to SELF, know that you are SELF already. In fact, you can directly feel the infinite SELF seemingly and simultaneously manifesting its magical energy effects at every moment. Even for the scene of jailed in prison, this is still the same magical energetic effect. SELF is unlimited intelligent energy.

When waking up in the morning, the seemingly logical flow suddenly started to flow, and it's like a long-forgotten story suddenly began to work. Please note that when you were in a dream, you have no idea that there will be another story flow after the current storyline vanishes. This is a big surprise. In fact, the so-called "morning story and morning world" are not hiding somewhere waiting for you to come back, but they are the energetic impressions spontaneously manifested by super intelligent energy, i.e., SELF.

What seems like a story is not actually a story, and what seems like a world is not actually a world. Please notice, nothing is created, there is no such thing as creation. It's just that the apparent energetic pattern morphed, or metaphorically speaking, it's like a TV show changing channels. If you still don’t get this metaphor, let me give you another example. The holographic laser projection seems to be showing the story of someone in a certain country doing something.

Suddenly, the content of the laser projection changes and becomes the story of another person in another country doing something else. However, this is still the same holographic laser projection. Energetic impressions seem to morph all the time, but it's the same light projecting. The previous story is completely emptiness, and the subsequent story is also completely emptiness.

Although you seem to be fully participating in the storyline, you are not actually a character in the story. You are infinite radiance and intelligent energy. Such intelligent energy just manifests the seemingly feeling of complete participation, otherwise there would be no fun. Just like when you play a video game, if you don't have a realistic sense of participation, it's not fun.

The seeming beauty, the seeming ugliness, the seeming enjoyment, the seeming suffering, are all the automatic energetic effects of this infinite magical intelligence, and all phenomena manifested by such energetic effect are all completely emptiness without leaving any residue.

Yes, you are right, the best "practice" is not to understand the theory or recite sentences, but to directly savor the seemingly sound of the grass rubbing under your feet or the splash of dew, or light breeze in the afternoon. Every moment and every point in experiencing is a magical miracle of infinite SELF.

Even if the storyline seems to be sick in bed, every tingling pain and every thought of concern is still the magical miracle of infinite SELF. They are all the same energetic pulsation of SELF, without right or wrong. There is no need to analyze why, there is no need to analyze how, there is no need to regret for the bad fortune, and there is no need to expect for a better future, It is as meaningless as analyzing the ins and outs of a dream story.

What is - is what is.

Directly regard all feelings, all functioning of the Mind (thoughts), and all sensory sensations as the energetic symphony of infinite SELF. Treat them as if infinite SELF getting intoxicated in the sea of ​​its own energy. The seeming "good luck" is of course enjoyment, and the seeming "tribulation" is still the same enjoyment. This is not the enjoyment of "person", but the enjoyment of energy. As you get more used to seeing it this way, the sting of the storyline will affect you less and less.

The inner energetic pattern will be reorganized spontaneously and automatically, and transcendence will be accomplished naturally without any effort and without your being aware of. If you really think that there is so-called bad luck, if you really think that there are external negative factors attacking you, you are wrong. You are fooled by the logical content of the storyline assumed by the Mind. It's very much like when you watch a tragedy, when the tragic story was taken seriously, you really thought that you were the victim of the tragedy.

All conclusions interpreted by the Mind are illusory and not actual. However, the effect of the Mind, as the energetic effect of infinite intelligent SELF, is not a problem. No matter how such energetic effecting is interpreting, once the conclusions are not being taken granted and seriously, the function of the Mind is like the rising and setting of the sun. lick windy or rainy, like the ebb and flow of the tide, you know that the function of the Mind itself is nothing more than the intelligent energy effect of SELF breathing and pulsing naturally, it is not a problem.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if you already wrote about this so forgive me if this is a repeat question but, what do you think about Leona’s depression? I feel it’s pretty obvious in game and yet it’s always glossed over as him being ‘lazy’ idk but I don’t find many talking about his really shitty mental health with any seriousness.

Surprisingly I haven't addressed this (at least not in detail)! So thank you for bringing this to my attention; I definitely feel like I've heard people (especially Leona fans) discuss this quite frequently. If you look in the right places, you’re sure to find insightful commentary on the subject! I know I certainly have, but I've yet to say my own piece on it yet.

Now, before I actually get to actually rambling, I want to preface this post with a few points so we can walk in knowing the perspective I'm coming from. Analysis isn't a "one size fits all"! My experiences and background will color the lenses through which I view Leona’s mental health.

First and foremost, I usually don't go out of my way to claim, "this character has X condition" beyond what is outright stated or implied in canon. That does NOT mean that I disapprove of fans who may have their headcanons that say otherwise or project onto or relate to characters' mental health. You can consume the media you like however you want! I am just saying that I don't have this preference so I feel somewhat uncomfortable speaking on this matter.

Secondly, I am trying to approach this situation from a very clinical viewpoint (as I do have knowledge in this area). This means that when I look for “implications” or read between the lines, I am doing so as objectively as I can. It’s how I choose to process and understand characters from a health angle. This does not mean that my opinion is certain; you could very well find someone else in this area that gives you the opposite opinion. As always, I warn you that my response is for fun, it is NOT meant to be taken as medical advice.

Lastly, PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST before you comment or share your own thoughts. I'm up for having a discussion, but I ask that you not do so without getting the full context of my thoughts. It’s a lot of information, and I did my best to break it down in a way that (I hope!!) is easy to understand.

CONTENT WARNING: due to the nature of the question at hand, I will be discussing or mentioning potentially triggering topics such as ***depression, suicidal ideation, dieting, homophobia, and substance abuse.*** Please look away if you are not in the right headspace to read about such topics.

Okay, let's rip the band-aid off now: I don't think Leona is clinically depressed.

Pause. Rewind. Take note of my careful wording there: clinically depressed. I don't think Leona is clinically depressed. What does that mean, and how does that relate to "being depressed"?

I think when people describe Leona as "depressed", they commonly mean that he "has depression", not that he is just feeling sad or has low self-esteem. By "having depression", I'm going to assume they are referring to "major depressive disorder", which is the technical term for the condition.

"It's just an abbreviation of the longer term. What's the issue with using 'depression'?” you're probably wondering. “You understand that we mean major depressive disorder.” Well, equating the two does NOT a diagnosis make.

Mental conditions such as major depressive disorder are documented in a handbook known as the DSM (or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). The latest version, the DSM-5-TR (5th edition with text revisions), was published in 2022. The DSM is a manual that sets forth criteria for each diagnosis in its pages. Of course, this includes major depressive disorder—and it may surprise you to learn that Leona does not meet its diagnostic criteria.

A diagnosis of "depression" (the term I will henceforth be using as shorthand for the disorder) is much more than having persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, being unmotivated/lazy, and wanting to sleep often. (I bring up these three things specifically because they are the ones I see being pointed at most frequently to “prove” the diagnosis.)

In order to be formally diagnosed, an individual must be experiencing at least 5 or more of the following symptoms during the same 2-week period:

Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.

Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.

A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).

Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.

Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.

Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.

Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.

At least one of the symptoms should be either 1) depressed mood or 2) loss of interest or pleasure in activities they previously found enjoyable. Furthermore, the symptoms must cause what is known as "clinically significant distress", which is defined by impairment in important areas of functioning. This includes, but is not limited to, socialization, occupation, and/or education. The symptoms must also not be the result of substance abuse or another medical condition, and the individual must ever have experienced mania or hypomania.

Let’s briefly go through each criterion + additional documents and see what evidence there is or isn’t to support it:

We do not have his medical records to cross reference, so for the sake of convenience let’s assume no underlying or additional medical conditions.

We must consider additional context about family, lifestyle, etc. which can confound his symptoms. For example, as a prince, Leona has grown up having most things done for him by servants. This is what he is used to. So when we observe Leona not doing basic things for himself (getting food, doing laundry, making his bed), how much of this can we truly attribute to an underlying condition and how much of this can we attribute to Leona being accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle?

Leona (at least from what we know of) does not experience mania, nor is he depicted as taking mind or behavior altering substances.

Of the first two criteria, Leona must fit into one: either 1) depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, or 2) markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day. These depend on how you interpret his actions and behaviors. Personally, I don’t think Leona strongly fits into 2 because he still has an interest in his hobbies like Magift/Spelldrive and playing chess (though his involvement in it varies depending on the context). I will concede that there is stronger evidence for 1 over 2, as Leona has definitely expressed sadness and despair regarding himself and his future prospects. It is these thoughts that drive him away from home and keep contact with his family at a minimum. It is these thoughts that prevent him from seeing himself as worthy or even capable of change—a sentiment he shares in book 6, when he encourages Jamil but does not grant himself the same kindness or optimism. For this reason, we will go with the first criterion.

He has not experienced notable weight loss nor gain, nor a notable increase or decrease in appetite. Regarding his general diet, Leona has expressed a preference for meat and rejects vegetables. This by itself does not really provide any useful information in of itself; many people have this preference.

Leona does not experience a slowing down of thought. He is still very sharp and quick-witted in responding to his surroundings, especially in potentially dangerous ones, and coming up with an appropriate plan to counter. It can be argued that Leona has had a reduction in physical movement, as many characters often make remarks about how they perceive him as lazy or not doing much. However, this criterion actually refers to the speed at which one completes an activity and as far as I know, Leona is not said to be moving sluggishly, he only conducts himself in a manner that can be described as "lazily elegant". Even if we stretched the definition to encompass long-term goals he is putting off (like graduation), this criteria is still not counted for Leona since the wording used in the DSM-5-TR states “slowing down of thought AND reduction in physical movement” must be present. In other words, both must be true, not just one of them.

Leona does seem to experience some level of fatigue or loss of energy. This could be one way of interpreting his desire to sleep excessively instead of tending to more meaningful matters (like class). Fatigue, in this case, can also refer to emotional or mental fatigue. The sleep, then, can serve as a means of escape from reality for Leona, but it does not indicate actual physical tiredness. Rather, the tiredness can be intangible. This is also a potential explanation for his lack of motivation when it comes to some activities, especially those that demand him to take charge.

Leona does appear to experience feelings of worthlessness, though perhaps not excessive or inappropriate guilt. In fact, I would wager Leona does not demonstrate the latter, although this could be attributed to the fact that we are not in his head and he does not open up to others about his feelings. For example, we still don't know what his feelings are on almost killing Ruggie in a fit of rage. This does not discredit this criterion though, as the wording in the DSM is “feelings of worthlessness OR […] guilt” meaning one or the other suffices. It is no secret that Leona seeks recognition for his skills—something he was denied as a child and even put down for. While he is aware of his strengths, he has moments when he doubts himself (stating that he can’t change, or giving up when he realizes his plans won’t work so what’s the point in trying?), the contributions he can make (even when his older brother reassures him he can help their country), and encouragement from others (Jack telling him his play inspired him).

As I've said before, Leona does not have a diminished ability to think or concentrate. It has been shown to us time and time again that he doesn't do schoolwork not for lack of trying or lack of understanding, but because he thinks of himself as above it. Leona has already been tutored by the finest teachers royal money can buy, so he believes there is not much else for him to learn. He is also not shown to be indecisive--he can make decisions very quickly and can guide others or at least convince them to go along with him.

Leona does not have suicidal ideation or have recurring thoughts of committing suicide/death. While it's true that this is a game rated for ages 4+ (and therefore has restrictions on what content is and is not allowed in it), TWST has demonstrated to us that there are ways to imply suicidal ideation and other dark themes without explicitly saying it. (One notable example is Idia in late book 6, where he drops lines like "I'll go with you" and expresses dissatisfaction with "this world" to Ortho, who is known to be dead. To this, Ortho reassures him and encourages him to keep living. In fact, I could go on a whole tangent about how Idia better fits the criteria for major depressive disorder, but we're not going to get into that here.) The fact that TWST does not really imply this about Leona makes me think this is not true of him.

It can be said that the symptoms Leona does have are clinically significant, as his behavior is shown to have significant impact on his studies to the point where he was held back a grade. This was not because he did not know the material, but because he failed to find the motivation to attend class and to do his assignments. It also appears that Leona didn't really make an effort to work toward his future until book 7, when he actually talks his internship plans and about wanting to graduate.

We may guess that the symptoms persisted for two weeks or more (given Leona’s history and involvement in the main story), but the frequency of the symptoms is unclear since the game controls what we see of Leona and what we don’t.

Taking all of that into consideration, Leona does in fact exhibit depressive symptoms, but only 3 at most (I say “at most” because we have no idea about the true frequency at which some behaviors occur; we aren’t with Leona 24/7, nor has he reported it to us) out of the 8 total criteria. That’s 2 short of a diagnosis.

“But wait, there’s a lot of information missing here! We don’t have medical records, his weight and appetite changes, etc.” That’s true—but see, the main issue I take with diagnosing fictional characters in the first place is that we oftentimes do not know a character in detail enough to understand the full scope of their lives and symptoms. Noticing a few details is one thing and valid to an extent, but to evaluate an individual is not purely observational. This is particularly true for TWST characters, as even though there is plenty of content to refer back to for behavior, there is still a lack of really going into daily activities or deep feelings (beyond the one post-OB flashback for the OB boys). We cannot observe their behavior extensively. Because of this, tons of key criteria may not be visible to us from the audience’s perspective, let alone a medical history or other data to consider for assessment. We will almost always have an incomplete profile of a fictional character. Health is holistic and not entirely based on what we as individuals see or on all anecdotal evidence.

Just as health considers all parts of the individual, we, too, must consider individual cases of depression. It is possible for depression to exist without a diagnosis—many people (especially older adults), unfortunately, go undiagnosed for their condition. At the same time, it is possible for Leona to have depression which manifests in an atypical way. Each person with depression presents differently than the last, so I so not intend to make any blanket statements about the general population with this condition. The only statement I am making here is that based on my own interpretation of the current lore TWST has granted is, Leona Kingscholar does not satisfy the criteria for a formal clinical diagnosis, at least not for major depressive disorder as is defined by the DSM-5-TR.

Interestingly, Leona does fit the diagnostic criteria for a subclinical form of depression in a 1994 version of the DSM (IV). Minor depression or minor depressive disorder, colloquially known as “everyday depression”, is defined as having 2–4 depressive symptoms persisting for more than 2 weeks. One of these symptoms must be either depressed mood or loss of interest. It should be noted that this terminology is no longer recognized, as new information is added and dropped from the manual all the time. The information is flexible based on the consensus of a panel of hundreds of experts. Older versions of the DSM can be horribly outdated and it is not advised to reference them over newer ones. (As an example, "homosexuality" was legitimately listed as a mental illness in the very first version of the DSM. Yikes. Thankfully, this was dropped from the DSM-II. Other conditions like "multiple personality disorder" are granted new names like "dissociative identity disorder" or reworked altogether as our studies and understanding of mental health and science improve. It is important to keep up with the research coming out and update our approaches accordingly.)

We do not currently have a label for Leona’s situation aside from perhaps experiencing depressive episodes (periods of notable sadness lasting under 2 weeks) and exhibiting some depressive symptoms. I must stress that just because we lack a full-blown diagnosis, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact his life. Leona is shown to very clearly be struggling with his mental health. He spends a lot of time in bed, typically cannot be motivated to attend class or do complete assignments, and has moments where he thinks very lowly of himself in spite of the confidence he exudes to others. What's more is that because Leona does not speak to others about what he's going through, it comes off as laziness or arrogance to his peers. Think of it this way: if you have a bad day and snap at a stranger or an acquaintance, the stranger/acquaintance is far less likely to grant you grace or forgiveness for your behavior compared to, say, a friend. They are not as familiar with you, so they will have less patience and are less likely to consider what you may be going through on a personal level. This also applies on a fandom level; if a fan is not actively reading between the lines, they, like Leona's peers, may miss the depressive symptoms he is displaying because they aren't looking for it. How many people can we say are close friends with Leona for him to open up to them about his circumstances? I would say Leona barely even lets his own dorm members be intimate enough with him to let them know about this part of himself. He has Savanaclaw backing him, but he probably does not talk to the mobs extensively. Ruggie is his errand boy, but I doubt Leona pours his heart out to him. And Jack is the newbie who did technically betray their dorm, so Leona might not trust him. Forget about people beyond his dorm. Even his family is not much better off; we've seen that Leona tends to brush off his brother's friendliness and attempts to make amends. There is no strong support system in place for him, which is tricky because Leona perpetuates it by keeping others at bay. In the light novel adaptation of book 2, Leona has an inner monologue about how he is afraid of letting others give him hope because it will encourage him to try again, only to fail another time. I imagine similar logic applies here; he is afraid of showing his vulnerable side because it might give him hope for change when he as late as book 6 expresses that he has given up on himself. I think that this is the detail about Leona most look to when they consider his mental health. The hallmark of depression is, after all, the feeling of perpetual sadness and despair itself. Most do not realize that other factors are considered.

From a clinical lens, it is not “obvious" that Leona is depressed. However, I understand why the prevailing sentiment tends to skew in the opposite direction. For the layman, it may be difficult to distinguish what is and is not clinically significant enough to warrant an actual diagnosis. Again, most will cite the same three pieces of information to support the depression reading: Leona's irritability, his unwillingness to participate, and the rejection he experienced as a child (which has now manifested as self-doubt and low self-esteem). Characters are often judged based on fans' own experiences, and this naturally comes with biases and subjectivity. Thus, some fans may project their own understanding or preconceived notions of what the "typical" depressed person acts like in their head onto Leona. This is normal human empathy at play. I believe that other fans see depression in Leona either because they experience it themselves or are familiar with someone in the same shoes. It can be difficult, and at times we can find solace and solidarity in fiction, especially if we find a character that “speaks to us” and seems relatable. That character may be Leona for some people. If you see do see him in this light or relate to his situation, I’m not invalidating your feelings. On the contrary, I'm happy that you were able to find comfort in him and that a piece of media you love can serve as a coping mechanism. You keep on doing you!

It is at this point that I will reiterate what I said at the start with a little extra nuance: I do not think Leona clinically depressed BUT I do believe he has depressive symptoms and poor mental health as the result of his cumulative circumstances. It is possible for him to have major depressive disorder, but we cannot determine this for certain with the information available to us right now. We are still missing several key components that would typically be considered in the evaluation process.

I think it's important to step back from focusing on labels and instead focus on the individual experience, and how you can still grow as a person and not let a perceived label define you. Leona is definitely working on himself! Changing, particularly changing a deeply ingrained mindset, takes much time and effort. We may not see the progress since Leona tends to hide it and/or we have limited intractions with him. We may not always see giant strides because the process is difficult. Even so, Leona is trying to jump over those mental and emotional hurdles. He's putting his all back into Magift/Spelldrive training. He's attending classes and doing the assignments. He's going home for the holidays. He has an internship planned. He wants to graduate. I've enjoyed following Leona's journey of growth and self-development and seeing all the intense discussion surrounding that. It all comes from a place of love and wanting to support the characters we care about, no matter how we may individually view him.

[jikagu]

FERRIS WHEEL

pairing: bachira x fem!reader

summary: you guys went to the local festival/fair with your guys' best friends. who knew that this festival would get you fucked against tinted glass?

notes: uhh semi-public? oral (m), oral (f), choking, picture taking, unprotected sex, praise and degradation, fingering etc, mature audiences only.

SHORT DRABBLE

"i wanna go on that ride!" bachira points at the biggest ride that there is, everyone shaking their head quickly.

"no." chigiri frowns, hitting bachira on the head.

"well, then what can we do?" the short male pouts, looking at you.

"um, i don't know, ask isagi, maybe he has an idea?" both you and bachira turn to him as he hums.

"hm, what about the ferris wheel?" he proposes with a shrug. to be honest, you guys did everything at this festival already except for the ferris wheel.

"sure, i'm game." bachira said, coming behind you with a hug.

you guys agreed that isagi and chigiri will go in one, and you and bachira will go in the other. there wasn't really a line that you'd expect from a huge festival and it really only took you all 20 minutes to get in.

"i've never been on a ferris wheel before." bachira said, looking out of the tinted windows. "i can barely see anything." he squinted his eyes.

"pretty big box." his kept talking, i guess this was his way of starting conversation.

"hm, now that you mentioned it, the windows are pretty tinted." you looked around, not really able to look out. i mean, it was dark but you'd expect to be able to see the lights from all the rides.

he sat with you instead of the opposite, laying his head on your thighs. it was kind of an awkward position for him but you thought it was fine.

once the wheel started moving, bachira sat back up straight, looking out of the window. that's when you noticed bachira's hand snaking up to your inner thigh. maybe wearing a skirt was a good idea after all...

"bachira.." you grinned, alerting his attention and as he looks back at you.

"huh? what's goin' on?" he smiles innocently, retracting his arm. as you were about to speak, the ferris wheel jolted and stopped in its place. both you and bachira tried to see what was going on, but—that attempt was more than futile.

you got a quick message on your phone from isagi saying, "ferris wheel dwn, they said like 25/30 min wait lol"

"damn." bachira frowns, acting sad. you knew it was just a facade and he had ulterior motives, but since it was down, why not have some fun with this? you grabbed bachira's hand and put it back on your thigh.

you were obviously embarrassed by this as you looked away and your face was flushed brightly. you were almost certain bachira was going to say something snarky.

"huh, you want me that badly?" he teased, his hand trailing dangerously close to your wet bundle of nerves.

"y—eah." you choked out, involuntarily spreading your legs a bit more.

"hold on baby, back against the wall." he said, moving you so you were facing towards him, legs spread on top of the seat.

"oh fuck, i—fuck." he stuttered, covering his mouth. his eyes widened looking at you.

"can i—take a picture?" he asked, eyeing your wet, dowsed panties. the pose you were in was very provocative with a bitten lip.

you nodded slowly as you heard the shutter and as he eyed the picture he took.

"you're so sexy baby, and i have you all to myself." he looked at you, and then the picture.

"you have the picture forever, but—this is a now moment. please—just hurry up and fuck me." you whined, begging.

"just wait baby, i'll get there." he grinned, it was almost like his eyes had changed to something more of lust.

he took off your panties with a low groan, looking up to you to see what you want. you quickly nodded, almost as if telling him to hurry up.

"my baby just so hungry for my fingers, aren't you?" he looked at you, opening your mouth with his thumb, putting his ring and middle finger in your mouth.

"show me what you can do." he commanded as you immediately covered his fingers with your saliva, sucking on them like you were his personal slut, only existing for his approval and validation. you moaned through his fingers, looking up at him.

"fuck, i need another picture—you look so good sucking my fingers like that like a needy little whore." he bit his lip, taking another picture.

he eventually took his fingers out of your mouth, plunging them into your pussy.

"mmh, even with my fingers you're still so tight." a groan escaped his mouth, curving his fingers inside of you making you turn your neck to the side.

"oh—baby—right there." you whined, bucking your hips and arching your back.

"fuck, fuck!" you moaned, his fingers hitting deeper. god, you forgot how long his fingers were. "so good!" you cried, gripping onto bachira's shoulders as he fingered you.

he kept curling his fingers, plunging them in and out. he knew what he was doing and it felt so good.

"good job baby, little bit more." he said, continuing for a solid minute before you came on his fingers.

"fuck! so good," you mumbled, eyeing him and his buldge.

"m' wanna make you feel good too." you panted, still recovering from your high. your chest heaved in and out as you got on your knees, you and bachira basically swapping places.

you pulled down his shorts and boxers to reveal his cock, your hand holding it in place.

"i'll make you feel good.." you sigh out before taking his cock in your mouth, toying with the tip.

"fuck baby, come on—stop teasing me." he growled, moving his hand on your head, pushing it down slightly. he didn't want to hurt you, but god damn were you such a brat sometimes.

"good job—keep going.." he encouraged, taking his cock whole now. your saliva dripped out of your mouth as you kept sucking, dedicated to make him feel good.

the way his whines escaped his lips made you almost euphoric. "mmh," you moaned, the vibrations effecting bachira, almost immediately making him cum.

you lapped up everything that came out with a smile as it dribbled out of your mouth.

"god—photogenic aren't we?" click, another picture. "god, i want to fuck you so bad." he eyed you like a predator does prey, pushing you back to the wall once again.

"yeah? then fuck me." you said, using your hand to spread your pussy open just for him, a sight for sore eyes truly.

click

he let out a guttural growl before hovering over you and pushing his cock inside of you. you let out a loud moan before bachira fucked you senseless. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, biting your lip tightly.

"fuck! h—arder!" you whine, still bucking your hips. he was going so fast on you, manhandling you. the grip he had on your thighs as he held them above your head made it to where he could hit spots you could never do alone.

you guys kept going like rabbits in heat, literally making the cart shake until bachira's cock starting twitching inside of you, a grunt coming out of his mouth.

"cu—mming!" you and him both cried in unison before bachira filled you with his cum, never feeling empty even when he pulled out.

"um, so, how do we clean this?" he panted, looking at you and your sex-drunk lewd face.

"mmh, napkins—skirt pocket," you close d your eyes, getting your breath back. as soon as you guys finished, the ferris wheel fixed itself. what perfect timing.

—

"hey guys, how'd you enjoy the ride?" isagi snickered. he more so insinuated the stop in the ferris wheel but you two turned into a stuttering mess.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I wish you would write a fic where Sharako Lohar sits on my face and smothers me to death

The ask game says maybe I will write a tidbit, so I will give you a little tidbit...

She lays on the rumpled silk sheets, the humid air and cloying scent of patchouli that lingers upon it doing little to relieve the sheen of perspiration that clings to her flesh, clammy and uncomfortable. She keeps her knees cradled to her chest, with no idea as to whether this position will help nature take its course or not. An old wives tale perhaps, but she will do whatever she can to help the seed take root. She wants to give Sharako a child, she lives to please her.

Through the thick curtains that separate her room from the next, she can hear faint giggles, the sounds of the Lannister lord she had just lain with now having his fun with one of her sisterwives. She would feel jealous, used even, were it not for the fact he was only doing this upon the command of her wife. She has spoken of wanting to have children for a long time, and the idea of being able to bear Sharako the one thing she knows will make her happy makes her chest swell with pride.

It had been a long time since she had allowed a man inside of her. The sensation had been strange, an act of rediscovery. Tywin...Tymond...what was his name? She cannot remember. For all of his Westerosi pomposity and mainland ideals of propriety, he had been a surprisingly adequate lover. His touch was more gentle, hesitant, compared to the rough voracity with which her wife took her. His hands were almost reverent against her body, and when she had peaked it had been a delicate whisper of a sensation that had made her sigh in pleasure. It was nothing like the way that Sharako made her tremble and cry out like a wild animal on an almost nightly basis.

Her thoughts are interrupted as Sharako steps through the curtain, regarding her with a lopsided smirk as she stands at the foot of the bed, her eyes roving lustily over the prone position she finds her wife in.

"It is done then?" She asked, inclining her head towards her.

"It is, he has moved onto the next."

"How was it?" She asks, rounding the bed slowly, like a lion stalking its prey.

"Different," comes her response, feeling her skin heat up with mild embarrassment.

"Did you enjoy his cock?"

She laughs out loud, the brashness of the question taking her by surprise to the point that the sound is forced from her. She is certain that for however long she is the wife of the admiral of the Triarchy she will never get used to her directness; it will forever catch her off guard, and she has grown to love it.

"He does not possess your skills, my love, but I am sated."

"And glad I am to hear of it, but I find myself left wanting."

She sucks in a breath, feeling her core throb with want, causing the Lannister lord's spend to trickle out of her. Instinctively, she lowers her legs, parting her thighs, before Sharako shakes her head.

"I will not lap up the leavings of a man who is beneath me. Tonight you will please me."

She swallows thickly, her heart racing as she considers her wife's words. It is not often that she is given leave to take charge, but if Sharako wishes to have her between her thighs, then she is eager to please.

Her fingers move to the lacings of her jodhpurs and she watches as her deft fingers untie them, shedding the material from her legs, leaving her bare from the waist down.

It is not until Sharako moves, climbing onto the bed and placing a knee either side of her head that she realises she has no means to relinquish control. And as she lowers herself, the taste of her essence tart upon her tongue, faintly like the sea upon which she so loves to sail, she knows she would not have it any other way.

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 3

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of violence. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

I watched too much Netflix on the weekend, so here is the next part! Everything gets even more complicated.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2

........................................................

"Simon, it's been so long since we met!" Pam squeals, turning to the new man with such enthusiasm as if she really knew him for years, even though you're pretty sure that this strange figure has never paid his respects in the game until now. And the fact that your partner freely allows herself to be pulled into an overly intimate hug makes your stomach turn. Because you get that visceral feeling of a wolf hugging a deer before sinking its teeth into its flesh and tearing it to shreds.

Because you're not so naive as not to know that the newcomer didn't appear here to help you. And all you have to do is look at Johnny and see that cheerful light in his sky-blue eyes, which are too sincere for the stranger to be just a simple side character. No, this man exudes a different kind of menace, and you've died just enough and been in enough pain to recognize the dark cruelty in those warm brown eyes when they look at you.

You take careful steps closer to the porch, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens almost painfully, as if the poor fabric could save you, whatever might be lurking to pounce on you. Everything has gone through an unsettling change, as if the game has turned into a fleeting mirage, approaching which, instead of the apparent calm, more horrors would await. And you're sure that whatever this goddamn place is up to, it's trying to discourage you from getting out in increasingly evil ways. Why throw in more and more unusual twists otherwise?

And as soon as you step onto the veranda, the wooden planks creak under your shoes, as if the small voice would want to warn you to be on your guard. Although all your senses are sharpened by the stress, and all your muscles are filled with energy ready to flee, you're still unprepared as Johnny hugs you, even though this is the only certain point since the restart, which takes place in the same way as before. But when he pulls you to his broad chest, and his strong arms wrap around you, your heart skips a beat because like a lightning strike, the memories of last night come back to you. His hot breath caresses your neck, and as the sensitive skin begins to tingle wildly, your stomach shrinks to an impossibly small size, because the burning reminder of his touch smolders in each and every pore of yours. As if every inch he touched in the suffocating darkness of the kitchen would be covered in aching flames at the same time, so that you know where he marked you for himself.

And your body acts almost on its own, because as you feel the hardness slowly coming to life in his groin pressing to your stomach, visceral fear rushes through you, and you want nothing more than to run away. Your hands come to life on their own, and you push the man away from you so forcefully that even he himself is surprised. And as you step back and fix your frightened gaze on him, you see the grim glint in his eyes, with which he stares at you for a moment. And the little voice in your head that tells you, that your rejection brought a much harsher distaste to the handsome face than any pain you caused him yesterday…

But what worries you much more than this is how, from this small movement, reality suddenly freezes around you, and all eyes are settled on you with such tense disbelief that it makes the little hairs on your back stand up. An inexpressible tension spreads over the faces of your two companions, their delicate features for a fleeting moment resembling more closely to the plastic mannequins standing lifelessly in store windows. You see a small muscle twitch on Rebecca's face, as her wide, glassy eyes stare at you, the gentle innocence replaced by something quite terrifying. Her fingers are clenched into fists with such force that her knuckles slowly turn white, and small drops of blood emerge from her closed fingers as her nails dig into her palm. You immediately understand that you made a mistake. Because this game won't tolerate you openly defying it. It doesn't like it when you stop the sick charade prematurely, because you spoil the fun. Fuck.

"I'm just… a little tired, sorry." You stammer, immediately letting the first words, which form in your panic-stricken brain, fall to your mouth, and as the force that painfully squeezes Pam's jaw eases a little, you know that you’ll have to be more careful. "I'm going to rest a little." You pull a weak smile on your face and hate how pathetically thin the voice that comes out of you is.

The ominous shadow that had sits there suddenly disappears from Johnny's face, and as if the game had calmed down at the first signs of your desperation, the tense moment dissipates, and the stomach-churning peacefulness, that weaves through this cursed fever dream like a disgusting illness, takes its place again.

"Come on, Bunny, don't worry about it." Johnny reassures you, and although his tone is perfectly relaxed, you still discover the hard promise behind the harmless words. This small opposition will have serious consequences, and you don't even dare to imagine how this stupid mistake of yours will affect the course of the already unusual events. "Go unpack. Ye'll need yer strength for the party." He says lightheartedly, and the smile that escapes to his full lips makes your stomach jump uncomfortably, because even though the mask of innocence is now resting on his face, you can already read his every little twitch all too well. And from the way, despite the cheerfully upward curve of his mouth, the same sparkle that you discovered in the reflection of the window, when you were trapped by him in that blasted kitchen, moves into his eyes, and fear grips your insides in an icy fist almost immediately. Because there's nothing sweet or charming about the way your every nerve admits that you've been thrust into the spotlight of a predator's undivided attention.

Without a word, you head inside, almost sprinting from the stress that is awakening in your body, like a scared little mouse that is about to flee from the cat. The stranger, Simon, lets you storm over the threshold, and if your mind didn't cling to every last crumb of your sanity so bitterly, you might wonder why he's cooperating so willingly. Everything has a price and nothing happens without a reason. Every drop of peace, every grain of kindness is a deceptive trap. But you want to escape too quickly.

Your pulse is pounding in your ears as you run up the stairs, and you automatically make your way to your room, because even if someone would wake you up from a dream, you'd find it, you've wandered through this horrible house so many times. You almost tear open the door as you rush in, and you slam it behind you with such speed that even you get startled by the impact. But nothing happens, no one comes after you, and when you finally calm down and sure that you were able to hide from the prying eyes, you stumble through the friendly little room panting, just to fall on your bed with trembling legs.

Burying your face in your hands, you try to hold back the start of the scream slowly rising in your throat, and between the wooden paneled walls only the gentle rustling of your breathing echoes, as you try to swallow the air in heavy gulps from panic, to see if your lungs will be filled with peace along with the fine particles of dust. And it takes what seems like a thousand years before the frantic beating of your heart finally eases, and you dance back from the panic attack that the last few hours you experienced so enthusiastically drove you towards. Goddamnit.

Everything went so awfully well, you finally started to understand the rules, you navigated yourself through the maze of clues, you really made progress, but now everything seems to be collapsing like a damn house of cards. You've already died twice without having a chance to progress, and if that wasn't horrible enough, Johnny's strange behavior, his increasingly dirty tactics, and the arrival of the newcomer shake this hellish vision-like torture chamber to its foundations. And now you're not even sure how to move forward, because you feel that every single step you take forward is followed by an even more cruel pushback, and with every minute, every hour, every night you spend here, you drift further away from the way out. Although, you want nothing more. For real air caress your skin, the ringing of the laughter of real people in your ears, and to finally not suffer and hurt, again, and again, and again... Enough!

You run your hands through your hair with a frustrated sigh, and you'd like to pull out the strands in clumps, but you know that it won't make the situation any easier or any less complicated. You have to find a solution because whoever or whatever created this game is meant to keep you here. It occurs to you that maybe this damn place feeds on your pain and fear, and if that's the case, then it makes sense that it’ll do everything it can to drag you into even deeper and more complicated problems, where it can watch you writhe in its clutches. But you are stronger than that. The instinct to survive and the desire for freedom is much stronger in you than to let yourself be trampled. You won't let those killers in sheep's clothing, nor the thousands of dangers lurking around you, deter you from your goal.

And when you feel that enough confidence has returned to your limbs, and your legs can safely support you, then although the trembling of terror is still there in your muscles, the fog of alarm has lifted from your brain enough so that you can focus on planning. You can't do anything else but wait to see how the story develops with the new character, and watch in the background to observe what else changes. You need to gather information, because you're almost certain that Simon is another killer who will try to hunt you down. And thus three possible attackers will be panting in your heels. You have to be careful, and you have to move forward now, because you can't waste another night on distractions. Today you have to get behind the locked door. No matter what it takes.

And that suddenly reminds you that maybe it's time to check the key you got. But as your fingers reach into your pocket, they feel nothing but emptiness, and this makes you rummage through all the hidden corners of your jeans, but the miserable little object still doesn't appear. It wouldn't be the first time that some clues don't pop up again where you previously hid them, which is why, even though you have a bad suspicion in the back of your head, you keep your composure and turn towards your bag carelessly thrown on your bed. But no matter how deep you dig among the many clothes and small trinkets, you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for. And then the dreadful feeling claws into your stomach with an iron fist, and like a deadly poison, fear snakes its way into your cells, paralyzing every single nerve.

You grab your bag with hasty movements, and you turn it upside down so hurriedly to violently shake every hidden knick-knack out of it, that the thousand and one personal belongings hidden inside land with a dull thud on the floor. And no matter how you try to scan through the chaos with your eyes, no matter how you search among your clothes scattered on the ground with your hands, there's no sign of the key, as if it had been swallowed by earth. And your mind immediately tries to produce a series of solutions to somewhat alleviate the bitter taste of despair bubbling up in your throat, but each answer that seems likely pushes you further and further towards hysteria. It's possible that the key has returned to its original location and you have to go get it again, but this is a more solvable problem. But if the key has completely disappeared, it means that the game has rearranged the clues and you can start the pursuit all over again, because you have no idea what the path you need to take can be... meanwhile, one more danger is out to get you. This damn, trashy, vile game!

You feel the weight of realization sinking deeper and deeper into you, and with each passing minute, the situation you have fallen into seems increasingly hopeless. And it makes no sense for everything to turn upside down so suddenly, but no matter how hard you try to put together the puzzle that could help you decipher what caused the tiny little moment that started the whole upheaval like an avalanche, you can't figure out what you could have messed up. But you're sure it has something to do with Johnny. His lustful adventure was the catalyst for the whole unimaginable complication, and since then nothing has been the same. And if everything took a dark turn because of him, then it will be worth keeping an eye on him, because he can only bring more trouble to your head.

But as you look around the room with the confusion of a chased animal, your senses, dulled by stress, still find something utterly alien in the false calm of the neat little room. Because you're pretty sure that until now none of the books resting on the bookshelf had an intelligible title, but only a random sequence of letters on them, which always looked more like a gibberish language that appeared in a dream than any real one. But now you're definitely reading meaningful words on the spines of books, and that makes your body charge towards the bookshelf in a minute.

And when you get closer and read the message that appears on them, you're already quite sure that this miserable game wants to contact you. Because even though none of them would make sense individually, as you turn your head and read the titles outlined on the shabby covers one by one, you quickly understand the message:

Let me help you a little, Bunny :) Open me!

This is the first time that the system has given you such an obvious sign, so even though a thousand alarm bells are ringing in your head, your curiosity is much stronger. And you have a fleeting feeling that you’re not in a position to say no.

You reach carefully for the last book, which encourages you to dig in with a hypocritical kindness, as if something terrible could happen at any moment. And you already know this miserable place too well to know, that behind every seemingly innocent thing, something quite horrible can be hidden, like a demon waiting to break your neck when you are unwary.

But, when you pull out the volume, not a single monster jumps out from a secret corner to take your life, and although this eases the gnawing worry in your stomach, it doesn't completely put your suspicion to sleep. But when you open it, you're greeted with blank pages, and you flip through the wretched book in confusion, until finally a short message becomes visible. And although there are only a few short lines, it's enough to plant the seeds of terror in your mind.

I won't bite, don't be afraid,

I just want a playmate,

And if your blood is shed once more by my kin,

Whose mark has already bloomed on your skin,

Then you'll fall into the abyss deeper,

And you'll stay here with me forever :)

And you don't have to be particularly smart to understand what the game is trying to tell you. Because your trembling hand finds the strange mark on your stomach through your clothes, which starts to burn your skin with almost boiling heat. The lines stare mockingly at you, and you can almost feel how this devilish place laughs at you, as despair takes over you. You can't die by the same hand again, because if you do… you'll never get out. And that's enough to push your already worn-out body to the brink of fainting.

The first searing agony of a migraine-like pain rips into your head, because the hundreds of thoughts echoing in your mind strain uncomfortably against your skull. As if the world would start spinning with you, and you weakly let the damned book fall out of your hands. You unconsciously stumble over the traces of disorder lying on the floor, and drag yourself to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. There are too many new stimuli, everything is happening too fast, and you must not fall apart now. Because this new rule has put a rope around your neck, and it only takes one wrong move to strangle yourself. You can't let this happen.

You need all your strength, as Johnny so aptly remarked earlier. Because you feel in your bones, how the sour disappointment settles into them, that from now on everything will be much more difficult, and you'll have to overcome even more obstacles. Like rolling a large rock to the top of a mountain, which at a careless moment can bring you down with it. But you don't give up. You never give up.

In the small bathroom, you stagger to the sink and, still lost in your thoughts, you open the faucet, so as the frosty fingers caress your skin, the chaos raging in your brain begins to ease a little. Collecting a little water with your palms, you sprinkle your face, and as soon as the cold droplets bite into your skin like small needles, then despite the unpleasant feeling, you repeat your movement, as if this could be the solution to how to escape from the corner where the game is slowly driving you.

And although it doesn't completely remove the stress that is slowly turning into exhaustion from your limbs, the cold sobers you up just enough, that when you reach for the towel and bury your face in the soft cotton, the aching tension that settles on you dulls a bit. You need a plan. Because if that's true, then your hours are numbered. The masked killer can't kill you more than once, because that means you're stuck here. At best, you have two more chances to die with impunity, and then you're racing against time and the game's nefarious moves. But how do you stay alive in a horror game long enough? Anything can cause you to lose, and in light of new developments, you can no longer be sure that the same steps will raise death flags as they did until now. What will happen if you survive the night? The next day dawns, and? What's next? A completely unknown storyline will unfold in front of you and the chances of you surviving it are very small.

With a tired huff, you throw the towel back on its holder, and your mind is too busy with your racing doubts to notice in time that you’re not alone. You only break out of your thoughts when you return to the room and are greeted by someone, who appeared there like a ghost. Silently and uninvited.

You knew at first sight that Simon is not an ordinary character, and as he stands in the middle of a room bathed in the light of the setting sun, and the golden rays wrap his tall figure in a warm embrace, you realize that your intuition wasn't wrong. If you hadn't already seen enough horror hidden behind angelic faces thanks to Johnny, you'd let him lull your suspicions. But you see how menacingly the muscles are bulging under his sweater, and you can immediately imagine that those strong hands, which are now calmly lifting a bra from the hurried mess left behind, could snap your neck in an instant. You're not fooled by the nonchalance with which he raises the black-laced underwear in front of him, because you can see the merciless hunger in those dark eyes, that you encounter in his friend's as well. This man is as dangerous as anything else in this nightmare. And despite all the attractive features that peek out from under the black mask, you know that behind the beauty lies a bloodthirsty intention.

"I see you unpacked." He notes without any hint of unease, and his deep voice hits you completely unexpectedly. It's interwoven with a strong accent, which could even make the words that roll off his tongue deceptively attractive, and the pleasant hoarseness makes your stomach flutters in confusion. Not because you are naive enough to allow yourself to be seduced, but because he speaks to you with such an intimate tone that belies your very recent acquaintance. Although as the story stands, you’re not a stranger to him, but he very much is to you.

And at other times, maybe you wouldn't attach any importance to it, and you wouldn't mind him looking through your personal belongings, because nothing is yours. Not the clothes, not the shoes, not the shampoo, not the shower gel. Nothing. Only objects generated by the game, with no emotion attached to them. Now, however, as he stands there among the clothes scattered on the floor and slowly holds the bra to his face, and despite the mask, he inhales its scent with a deep breath, you feel an uncomfortable tension wash over you. Because he doesn't know that you've never worn that little black piece of clothing before, and probably never will, and that's what makes the situation so bizarre... The whole movement, as he closes his eyes and buries his nose in the fine material, creates something quite obscene, which makes the lump that you just managed to remove cling to your throat with renewed force. What the hell is he doing?

"I was just looking for something." You break the silent moment, hoping that whatever he's doing you'll disturb him enough with your little comment so that he finishes it. But as his eyelids open lazily and he glances down at you from under his blond eyelashes, you regret that you drew his attention to you. The darkness that settles in those brown eyes is unmistakable and makes goosebumps prickle instinctively through your body. Because his gaze makes you feel like he's flaying you alive with it, so that he can get to your desperately pounding heart by the shortest route. And you're pretty sure that he can clearly hear your pulse racing between your ribs, because there's no other way to explain why amused wrinkles gather around his eyes.

"Did you find it?" He continues to inquire unperturbed, throwing the underwear back on the ground. And when his gaze almost immediately falls on the book resting on the floor, the snow-white pages of which shine with bleak emptiness between the walls of the room that are slowly enveloped into semi-darkness, then you know that he didn't discover this little thing just now. Because he studies the barren pages as if he knew the secret it revealed to you.

"I think." You reply carefully, and you follow every change in his face with wary eyes, because at this point, every little twitch can be a sign for you. You need to get to know the new source of danger as soon as possible, because from here on there is no room for mistakes, unless you want to be trapped in this temporary hell forever. And you rather force yourself and defy the instinct of flight that awakens in your muscles, because you cannot run away.

But when he leaves his place and advances towards you with comfortable steps, you have to try with every fiber of your being to stay on your feet, because his slow walk may seem harmless to anyone, but you recognize the unspoken threat lurking in his movements.

"You know, I showed Johnny this house." He suddenly changes the subject, and it takes a few seconds for you to realize what he told you. And as the conversation that you have already listened to dozens of times at the dinner table pops up in your mind, shock appears on your face much sooner than your brain can prevent it. "At first he didn't see the potential in it, but he soon understood that we needed it." He explains, as though he just wants to reveal to you a long-cherished secret. And the meaning behind his words tightens your throat, as if his long fingers were already locked around your neck. And from the dryness that settles in your esophagus, it's like you're sending blades into your stomach with every swallow.

"It's a really nice place." You mumble weakly, because it becomes all too clear, as he stops a few narrow steps in front of you, how huge this man is. He looms menacingly over you, and as you raise your head, craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle, to direct your alarmed gaze at him, it becomes painfully obvious that you won't survive the new threat once it tracks you down. Terrible power flows from each sturdy muscle, and the little voice in the back of your mind immediately tells you that whatever he plans to do with you, you would have no chance of resisting. And this powerless feeling seems all too familiar, as if you've stood in the shadow of this horrifying force before.

"It will be." He agrees with your statement, and your heart skips a beat in fright, as one of his huge hands reaches to your face and gently caresses your skin damp from fear, as if he were afraid that you would be crushed by even a stray touch. And your consciousness drifting to the edge of blacking out is close to breaking... But you don't dare to lose sight of him. "Somethin' was missin' from it until now." He continues, and there is something sickly private about the way his thumb finds your quivering lips and strokes them with a feather-light touch. "But we have already found out what the mistake could’ve been." He adds, and his gaze sinks into yours with such a significant weight that you understand what he means without him saying it out loud. But the realization only causes even more chaos in your mind, because you don't like what he's trying to imply with it one bit. And no matter how much you try to calm yourself down by saying that only the story reveals the secret motivations of your attackers to you, but the doubt is restlessly scratching in your brain, which screams that this isn't what it's about... Because as his palm slowly travels to the nape of your neck and pulls you to his strong body without much resistance, as the thick arms wrap around you and the bitter smell of tobacco creeps into your nose with the vileness of a poison, then every part of you becomes paralyzed. A fictional character can't suggest that they've been waiting for you until now, right?

And as his free hand wanders to your waist and begins to draw small circles there with mocking tenderness, then the foreboding takes over you with an impossible force. Because there is nothing comforting in the way he buries his face in your hair, and the way the burning heat of his body crawls through the disgusting legs of a deadly disease into your cells icy with terror. And everyone else could think of this quiet moment as intimate, even romantic, but you know the dirty tricks of this fucking game better than that. You know a wolf hugged you to himself. And you just meekly let him decide when he sinks his teeth into you.

"Don't spoil the game because I don't want to punish you." He grumbles, and although his voice is barely louder than a whisper, your ears can hear the warning perfectly. And you don't like what he’s suggesting with his words. Because you know exactly what kind of pain he promises you if you spoil the fun. But… isn't that too early yet? Shouldn't he be playing the innocent character? After all, monsters only wake up with the appearance of night... "Now you've found your way home." He states simply, with a conviction that is impossible to ignore. And that one sentence is enough to make the air painfully stuck in your lungs, and a metallic taste escape on your tongue, as your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, before a desperate scream can break out of your throat. Because now you are quite sure that Simon is not a simple character. He knows what's going on here. He knows you don't belong here. And when, with condescending kindness, he smooths a kiss on the trembling line of your lips through his mask, you already know that he has no intention of letting you get out of here.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Don't be late."  He walks away as quickly as he appeared, and as he strolls out of the room, you're left alone with the suffocating pressure trapped between the cozy walls, which slowly drags your overburdened body under its weight. 

What do you do now?

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD

STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS

picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health

-

“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”

jeremy u flirt

-

do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?

-

oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10

if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.

if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.

i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.

sending lots of love to all of u

-

wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?

-

It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.

fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene

-

Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”

jean moreau u are so loved

-

“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE

ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING

-

Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him

-

betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug

and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-

“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.

CHAPTER TWELVEE

dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading

-

“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.

king is fed uppp

-

“It’s not about size, anyway.” ​“Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. ​Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U

-

“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”

GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN

-

“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”

now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact

“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,

this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash

-

“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” ​“Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”

NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP

YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON

-

CHAPTER 13333

jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him

meanwhile jean:

Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.

sureee buddy

-

They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.

well that is definitely an outfit!

-

“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”

EXCUSE ME

this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships

-

ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER

-

‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’

uhhhhh…

i don’t know how to tell u this buddy

-

dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy

chapter 14!!!

-

Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” ​Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” ​Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.

oh jean we’ll get there eventually

-

Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.

OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE

MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR

-

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”

-

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”

“Neither am I.”

TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST

-

everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept

-

kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life

they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” ​“I will wait as long as it takes,”

“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”

-

“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. ​“Obsessed,” Jeremy

exy fiend kevin day representation

also

“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil

-

She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.

this is the love jean deserves

chapter 15:

“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”

jean i love u

-

Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,

he’s so me

-

“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR

-

i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:

due to egregious injuries.” ​Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.

it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character

-

“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. ​“Denied,” White said.

SCREAMING

THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT

-

JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT

catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u

-

jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world

-

So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.

oh god don’t do this to me

-

Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.

beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate

A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.

A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS

-

SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO

“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”

starting off strong

-

You’re one of my kids now.

don’t mind me i’m just sobbing

-

no no no no no no no no no

holy shit no what the fucking fuck

don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now

actually dreading reading on right now

-

um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read

i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing

-

Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” ​“I do not want you to look.” ​It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,

-

only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him

chapter 17 the finale:

feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book

please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau

-

nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???

-

i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007

-

jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god

-

“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?

stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?

stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i

-

Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”

NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER

-

Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.

devouring these scraps about my boy

-

YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY

-

Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day

- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us

-

The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”

oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book

-

“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”

to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together

-

“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”

my hero

Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,

i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph

Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” ​“Shut up and get in the car.”

i wish neil josten was real

-

He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT

-

Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”

he’s everything to me 🥰

-

“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.

and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”

- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn

-

ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope

-

“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”

oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud

-

“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”

THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE

all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon

-

i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do

best friends ❤️

-

jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him

A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS

!!!!!

I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK

[sugar-grigri]

An overlay of games

Two injured arms? What are you trying to tell us, Fujimoto ?

The interesting thing about the first part of the chapter is this page in which Denji hesitantly answers. It's another way of accentuating his existential crisis, even when he's called an impostor, Denji can't defend his position firmly and confidently.

It's normal, he's still bound by the dilemma of the public hunters who have forbidden him to reveal and be Chainsaw Man himself, and above all he's competing with the impostor for his own identity.

Denji isn't THAT scandalized by being pointed out as a wannabe CSM because he is one now, he's been so robbed of his identity that he's almost willing to become himself.

This chapter also hints at the fact that the public hunters don't agree on everything, probably because of a hierarchy or unity game. For example, some hunters only thought that the church was having fun playing CSM, not knowing that it was fighting against the prophecy of Nostradamus.

However, this information was gathered by Yoshida through his interview with Fami, but it remained highly confidential. Here again, this public hunter doesn't know that Denji is CSM. In short, information isn't leaking out of the Special Division 7.

Yoshida is the mediator between the public hunters and Denji, but also with the church with Fami. Katana, Quanxi and the possessed man with the dripping brain are the henchmen. Fumiko is the one in charge of preventing any temptation on Denji's part to get closer to the church.

But there's something else that I find even more interesting that follows this point. If we try to untangle everyone's role. We end up with Yoshida; Quanxi; Katana; the possessed one with the overflowing brain; Fumiko; Denji and on the other, on the church side, we have Fami, Barem, Miri, the weapon of the whip, the bow and finally Asa. That's six against six.

Asa's room is 606. And as I've explained several times, Fujimoto tends to play with numbers in this part 2. So I'm going to try and give you an explanation.

When I saw that not only Quanxi had her arm bruised but Yoshida had sliced Asa's arm, the first thing I thought was "a tie". On one side we have Quanxi losing her arm to protect while on the other we have Yoshida attacking with a slice. The fact remains that an arm has been lost on each side, so there's a certain balance.

Let me remind you that there are six against six in this game, and nobody has won any points yet, which makes 0. 6 0 6, ball in the middle.

I sincerely believe that what Fujimoto is setting up is a form of game, a war in which we're going to have to keep score. Barem is called Barem BRIDGE, a card game of 2. against 2. This time it's not just a game about the clan war but the whole manga: Fami and Barem on one side, the demon of Death and maybe Fake! CSM on the other

Did you know that one of the players called himself the dead man? ;))))))

I think the human usurper and fake!CSM are two different entities because the demon has twice interfered with Fami's plan by eliminating the fire demon (Yuko) and saving Denji and Asa.

But it doesn't stop there, so let me come back to a few bridge rules (I don't know how to play, so if I'm wrong, please correct me). The game opens with the "contract", i.e. declarer commits to making a given number of tricks. Just like the beginning of the game in CSM started with Barem announcing his contract with the fire demon.

A game of bridge is played in several moves, each move corresponding to a deal. Each player holds 13 cards, which they have arranged in a row to form what is known as their "deck" or "hand". Again, this is not to say that game 2 works exactly like bridge (and its horribly complex rules) but rather to emphasise the symbolism.

Every time one of the sides moves, an injury occurs, a limb is neutralised or even pulverised.

I wanted to end this analysis with the "strong" part of the chapter, Yoru's return in force. I was stuck on the symbolism of the arm, its symbolism in art and its relationship to war. So much so that I forgot to read the line: Yoru is a team player, she speaks as "we".

And then everything fell into place. There's a contrast between Yoru's exaltation and the fact that she's still missing a member. But everything makes sense with this fusion introduced by the "we".

Yoru is missing nothing, not even an arm, and Asa has become the perfect continuity of her being and her limbs.

Asa may have transformed her flat, her home, but she hasn't lost her bearings, because each of these girls has become the home of the other.

While Denji denies the duality of his being, Asa is embracing it.

While Yoru, even without her arm, feels her strength reaching its peak thanks to her completeness with Asa.

Now, don't you think that making room 606 a weapon whose number symbolizes the status quo is just the beginning of hostilities?

To be obsessed with victory, even if it means leaving your mark, isn't that the definition of waging war?

Or is it just playing a card game ?

[angelatmidnight1]

I just started Baldur's Gate 3 and would love some ler! tword hesdcanons for Astarion if you're feeling inspired? I saw some of his lines on YouTube Shorts and he's literally the reason I'm now playing, Lord help me. 😭🤣 I'm super early game(like, just met him, Shadowheart and Gale) but I do know what species he is, and know a certain something he tries at camp at some point- 👀

I will definitely write a tword fic for him at some point because the need for him to wreck me is strong, but some headcanons to encourage me to keep going to see the story, as I adjust to the gameplay and how it works would be so appreciated! ❤️ Again, only if you feel inspired for it though, no pressure and I hope you're staying hydrated lovely! 😊

A/N: Sure! Astarion's the reason I bought the game too. I saw a few clips of him on TikTok and added the game to cart 😅 I have a reader/Astarion fic somewhere in my drafts, but please tag me whenever you create yours. I'd love to see :D

Anyways, here's ler!Astarion. I hope I captured his personality okay. I'll add a tiny warning that this may come off a tad spicy, cause it's Astarion haha, but it isn't NSFW.

Ler!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“Darling, you’re ticklish? Aha, how adorable.”

Astarion’s had a couple centuries to practice the art of gentle, and sometimes ticklish, touches. Of course he takes up the opportunity to work his craft. 

He’ll say the sweetest things to beckon his lee closer, with fleeting touches along sides and hips. “Come here, my dear. I promise I’ll be as gentle as a babe. Just a bit closer, hm?”

More words, sweet as honey, until he has his lee pinned under him. No matter the position, he wants physical contact the whole time. “Mm, I always did enjoy how you looked beneath me.”

He loves it when his lees become shy and flustered. It encourages his flirtatious antics even more. But, if they don’t? That’s okay. He loves a good challenge. 

Astarion’s touch is deliberate, but light and teasy. He takes his time to find the spots that make his lee squeal, and claws over it with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My, you are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?”

Eye contact is huge with Astarion; he drinks in his lees’ every reaction to his tickles. Every little giggle, gasp, squeak. His lee has never looked more beautiful, and he’s sure to tell them just that.

Speaking of drinking, it’s too tempting not to think about all of the blood pumping through his lee’s veins while he tickles them. He won’t drink without permission, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in other ways.

“I could eat you right up, darling. And you know what? I think I will..” 

Astarion knows how to use his fangs with just enough pressure to tickle, and if he’s especially close with his lee, nowhere is safe from his nibbles. 

His favorite place to nibble are necks, but he’s also fond of ribs, hips, and thighs. He’ll love if his lee is especially sensitive to his light biting. “Gods, you are delectable. And those precious little giggles of yours just make you all the more sweeter.~” 

He could tease and tickle his lee all night, but if they truly need a break, he’ll ease off…just expect him to be a lil’ pouty. 

“Stop? Already? But, I was having so much fun. And I can tell that you were, too. Must we end our playtime so soon? …Oh, fine. Just promise I won’t have to wait too long before I can have you again.”

Of course, Astarion doesn’t always have to have an easy time with his lees. He loves it when they’re stern or, if anything, when they don’t want to admit how ticklish they are.

“Pft, if you’re not ticklish, then I’m not a vampire. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather cute. You can look a beast dead in its eye, so long as it doesn’t wiggle its claws at you, hah.”

He, like most, if not all vampires, loves a good hunt. He can and will pursue obstinate lees for fun. Having stealth on his side is a huge advantage. 

His fancy, airier voice turns growly when he’s on the hunt. And, those honeyed words become devilish taunts. 

“You might want to run faster, darling. I’m right behind you.~ Perhaps if you surrender, I’ll be merciful.” 

Astarion gets a huge ego boost if he manages to get a stubborn lee laughing. "My name sounds wonderful on your lips. But, I would love to hear a 'please'."

If he has to hunt his lee down, it'll be awhile before he lets them go. "You're all mine, tav. Laugh for me~."

[ofallthingsnasty]

Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺

Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...

tw.yandere, violence, minors dni

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)

He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.

You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.

And if it’s really dire - you get the belt. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 38

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warning: Another all smut no plot chappie! (feat. Heat kinda; also feat. everyone's favorite: inappropriate use of devil fruit power)

Sticky Situations

It was only curiosity. You weren't a pervert. It's not your fault sound travelled easily through the walls. You were walking past Kid's cabin when some distinct noises beckoned you to press your ear against the door. Did people do this when me and Kid were...?  Maybe you should bring up the subject of sound proofing certain rooms. There was a string of groans and grunts that sounded like Kid. The other person was Killer, telling Kid to relax. Heat rose to your face listening to Kid's cursing and demands that Killer go harder. You batted your ear, as it was starting to itch. Wait. In a split second, the door opened and Kid was tugging you in by the ear with his devil fruit. 

"Tsk." Kid pointed to your ear, "Might wanna take that off if ya don't want me to know yer peeping outside the door."

Your eyebrows knit together, puzzled. "Why aren't you both naked?" Kid had his shirt off. That's it. And they didn't have time to get dressed before Kid pulled you in. 

Kid barked out a laugh. "Forward aren't we? If ya want us, all ya hafta do is ask."

"No that's not-. I thought you guys were..." You made sex gestures with your hands and moved your eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Even Killer laughed at that. "I was helping Kid get a knot out of his shoulder."

Somehow this was more embarrassing than walking in on actual sex. "I see." Now the noises made sense. "I'll see myself out."

"Not so fast." Kid pulled you by the ear again until you were in front of him. "I know yer avoiding me since Killer spilled the beans that I was gonna yell at ya." 

"Noooo." Lie. You weren't scared obviously. You really didn't want to get sucked into some kind of 'you need to be more careful' bullshit. 

"I'm not gonna yell at ya."

"You're not?" Before you knew it, you were bent over his knee. "Hang on a minute. Let's talk about this."

"We could have if ya didn't avoid me." Kid tugged at your pants until your ass was exposed. "The time fer talking is over," he said with a sinister chuckle.

You played along gladly. The last thing you wanted was a serious conversation. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling. This would be fun. Snooping had its perks.

"Fuck ya giggling about?" Kid cracked you on the ass with his metal hand, hard enough to leave a mark.

You yelped. "I love when Captain Kid is mean t'me."

Killer crouched in front of you. "Count out loud or he starts over." He tapped the chin of his mask. "How many, Kid?"

"I think 10 should do it." Kid added, "Oh and ya can't heal it either or I'm gonna do it twice as hard next time."

Smack!

"One," you still giggled. 

"I don't think you're doing it hard enough." Killer mused.

Smack!

"T-two." Your grin faltered.

Smack!

"Three." 

By the tenth spank, the bottom of your ass was cherry red. Kid's hand was so big its print took up most of the space. Tears pricked at your eyes and you yelped at him even resting his hand on the tender area. It was going to have a nice bruise tomorrow. 

"Not so funny now, is it?"

"No, Sir." He thwapped you again and you yipped. "What was that for?!"

"Fer being a little shit." 

"Eleven. You didn't count that one." Killer looked at Kid. "Looks like you gotta start over."

"Wait that one didn't count! Please don't." You gave Killer your best puppy dog eyes and turned to look at Kid to do the same. "I'll be good. I swear."

Kid tugged your pants back up and flipped you up to sit on his lap, earning a whimper from you. He grinned, "What's wrong, princess?"

"We're not fucking?" Was this not foreplay? 

"This a punishment. Fucking is a reward." Killer patted your head.

You stared at them incredulously. "You're kidding right?" They both had shit-eating grins across their faces. The real punishment was winding you up and doing nothing about it. You stood up angrily. "You wanna play this game? Fine." You were going to get them to crack before you. They wanted you to beg and you weren't going to let them have the satisfaction.

You left in a huff, nearly hitting Heat with the door as you left. You almost walked past him, turning on your heel to see his red face. You cocked your head. "Heat," you started in an accusatory tone, "what did you hear?" It was a bit hypocritical to be mad at him for being a pervert. You weren't mad. But maybe he could help you. Several thoughts went through your head: you could fuck him and get relief that way, he could help you concoct a revenge plan, possibly combine those two things in some way. You didn't want to make Kid and Killer jealous, you just wanted them to crack first. 

"N-nothing." He wouldn't meet your gaze. 

"Are you busy?" 

He straightened up, "No. Can I... help you with something?" He wasn't going to say no to a quickie.

"I need intel." 

It started with you wearing the tiny black leather shorts and the deep red corset top you had bought a while back with Heat. You knew it would drive Kid wild to see the bruising on your ass peek out from the legs of the shorts. Shorts was a strong word. They were closer to panties than shorts with the way your cheeks weren't completely covered. Heat didn't mind helping you. He would win, too, watching you slink around half-naked. You could feel Kid's eyes devour you from wherever he was. Another time, you wore a leather harness adorned with metal accents under your clothes, with panties to match. You knew Kid could sense the metal with his power and feel every curve along with your body heat. It was taking everything in him not to play with the metal bits, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself. He was about to crack. What pushed him over the edge was the night you wore a metal butt plug and had a matching metallic egg in your pussy to dinner. Heat helped acquire the items from Kid's personal collection. Kid could feel every time you clenched to keep the egg from falling out and every time you squirmed for friction. He had broken out in a sweat on his forehead.

Kid was vulnerable to the obvious things. Killer was more difficult because his expressions were hidden and you couldn't tell if it was working. In the mornings you would ask if he needed to check and make sure you didn't heal the bruises. You took one of the shirts he had let you borrow and made it into a skin tight babydoll crop top with your fruit. You wore that, sans bra, and some little jean shorts once to help him in the kitchen, "accidentally" brushing against him whenever the opportunity arose. Another time, you enjoyed a popsicle when you were sunning yourself on deck while he happened to be at the helm. You about caused him to have a heart attack when one afternoon he came to prep dinner and found you sitting on the counter in a tiny skirt, legs parted just enough that he could see you didn't have panties on. What really got to him, was at the same diner that had Kid sweating, you sat across from him and rubbed at the crotch of his jeans with your feet. Heat let you in on a few fantasies that Killer had. 

What did Heat get out of it? Well, you let him know when the plan was going into action so he could watch, using your fruit to make a tiny peephole in the wall across from Kid's bed. 

Once you knew you had them, you excused yourself and let yourself into Kid's cabin. The smirk never left your face as you ran into Kid's closet to get one of his old feather coats. You were going to strip in the closet but wanted to pay Heat back appropriately. You donned Kid's coat and laid on his bed. You didn't have to wait long, as the door flew open and Kid stepped in with his first mate close behind. You didn't miss the way Kid's eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of his coat. 

"What the hell do ya think yer doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Kid grabbed your chin. "Ya know exactly what I mean, doll." 

You hummed with a smirk on your face, rolling on your back so the coat fell open.

Killer made a noise of appreciation before stripping his shirt and sliding behind you with his legs caging you in.

You almost regretted wearing Kid's coat because otherwise you would have been able to lean into Killer's bare chest. Still, you let your head rest on his shoulder, arching your back to push yourself up high enough to put your lips to his neck. The rough skin of his hands running down your body gave you goosebumps. They stopped to knead at your breasts, your hips, your thighs. It was clear Killer had a penchant for the fleshier parts of your body. Small moans left your lips as you pressed them against the skin of his neck, every so often giving him a nip. He moved your legs to rest on the outside of his, spreading you wide open. A thick finger circled your entrance, making you whine. 

Kid sat at the foot of the bed, sans clothing, lazily stroking himself and watching Killer play you like a fiddle, using his powers to alternate moving the egg and plug around. Fuck you looked so good wide open, pussy glistening and Killer had barely touched you. He wasn't going to give in to your teasing until he saw you laid out in his coat. There was no way he could let that image go to waste. As soon as Killer was done finger fucking you, he was going to dive in face first. Kid didn't understand how Killer held out this long without fucking you proper, but if you had taunted him as well as you taunted Kid, he was probably close to giving in.

Killer could feel his dick throb in his jeans, leaking precum. Every time he felt your cunt clench against his fingers, his cock strained against its confines. He could feel you squirm more and more against him as he worked a second and third finger in. The hand that wasn't occupied was lightly closed around your throat. He liked listening to the way your moans get raspier when he added pressure. 

"Killer... please." You rolled your hips into his hand, pressing your clit harder into his thumb. "M'close."

"Go ahead. Cum on my fingers. Cum so your captain can watch." 

The low voice in your ear and the breath ghosting the skin of your neck sent you crashing over the edge. "Oh f-uck, Kill-er." He held your legs open as they threatened to squeeze together. You twitched as he pulled his fingers back, opening your mouth so you could suck the juices from them. You whined when they didn't come, looking down to see Kid cleaning them off instead, leaving red stains at the base of Killer's fingers. You hadn't even felt him climb up the bed. 

Kid yanked you down a little so he could wrap his arms underneath your legs. "M'gonna wear this pussy like an oxygen mask," he said, more or less talking to himself. For a moment he took the time to appreciate the pink, glistening folds before him, engorged with the increased blood flow and the base of the plug snugly nestled between your cheeks. Then he went to work, groaning as the taste of your arousal hit his tongue. He wasn't kidding. Kid buried his face in your sex, dipping his tongue as deep as it would go, greedily lapping up the juices that spilled when you came. He moved the metallic egg in time with his rhythm, driving you insane. It made his cock hurt how badly he wanted to bury in your walls.

Your head rested on Killer's chest so you had a good view. It was a good thing Kid had you locked in place with his grip because you would be writhing all over the place with how intense the actions of his tongue and the use of his powers were. Every time you jerked away, he gave you a noise of displeasure, kind of a weak growl. The only time he withdrew his tongue was to bully your clit with it, making you buck when he grazed his teeth against it. Your previous orgasm made you incredibly sensitive, and he had you on the edge again already.

Killer was throughly enjoying how much you were enjoying yourself as he played with your breasts. He could tell by the way your breaths caught in your throat and the near incessant noises you were making, that you were close again. "Kid, she's gonna cum. Poor thing can't even form the words to tell you." 

You whined, but he was right. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted for them. The wave of tingling heat overcame you almost immediately after he said that. You felt a brief flood of wetness and heard sloppy sounds as Kid worked you through your orgasm. You panted hard and opened your eyes. You saw Kid put his googles back on his forehead, apparently having moved them down at some point. 

Kid saw you looking, "What? I was in the splash zone."

"I can't fucking stand you." You laughed. 

"Hah?! What was that?" Kid tugged you right out of his coat, flipping you onto your stomach. He teased the butt plug and egg in and out a few times, before removing the egg completely and putting the plug firmly back in its place, earning a squeak from you. "Tsk, wee mouse is overstimulated, is she?"

Killer tossed the coat aside and scooted further down the bed. He grabbed you and laid back flat, so your chests were flush. Then you felt Kid on top of you. His weight sandwiching you against Killer was making you wild. If only Killer would take his pants off, it would be perfect. Kid hiked one of your legs up, burying himself in you. You both groaned at the feeling. 

"I can still feel ya twitching on my cock, dirty lass," Kid teased. "Tell Killer how good I make ya feel. Maybe he'll finally let ya have it." 

You buried your face in Killer's neck, moaning, as Kid started to fuck you. "Feels so good to be f-fucked by a big c-cock." You attacked the other side of Killer's neck so that he would marks to match the ones you had left earlier, taking breaks to moan dirty things in his ear. "Don't you w-wanna stretch me out, too?" You rubbed your hand against the hardness in his jeans. "Please. Please let me." You moaned louder briefly at a particularly hard thrust from Kid. "I love w-hen Cap'n makes me cum all over his c-cock." Even your own dirty words were affecting you. "Let me c-um on your cock, K-Killer." After that, you couldn't form any more sentences. Kid's brutal thrusts had you screaming into Killer's shoulder. 

You felt Killer grab your wrist and guide your hand to his length, which at some point, had been partially freed. It was still within his underwear, though it was much more manageable when it wasn't under the tough denim. Gripping him through the fabric, you jerked him off. You could feel his girth pulse under your hand. Just thinking about having it inside you made your pussy clench. You whined in protest when Kid repositioned you, tugging your hips up and back, pushing your top half down. You couldn't wrap your hand around Killer at this angle, and with the way Kid was pounding your cervix into oblivion, at the same time playing with the plug, however you could feel Killer's erection against your stomach. Under your own cries of pleasure, you could hear soft huffs from under Killer's mask as the motions of Kid fucking you caused your stomach to rub against Killer. You felt his hips move as he rubbed himself against you even more. There was something so erotic about him so desperate to get off that he was thrusting against your stomach. That in itself caused the coil in your core to tighten, but when you heard him moan and felt his cock throb against you with a sticky sensation spreading on your skin, the coil snapped. 

This orgasm was the most powerful one of the three that they managed to give you. You shook as the pleasure took over your body, cunt gripping Kid so tightly that it forced him to his own climax. He pulled your hips tightly to him and ground his cock up into you harder. Your mixed fluids spilled onto your thighs. You could feel your walls flutter with aftershocks. Rolling  off Killer to the space next to him, you looked down at the mess on your stomach. 

"Damn, Killer," You said, looking at the mess on his own stomach to match. Kid spread your knees to look at his fine work and bent down to press his tongue into your overly sensitive clit. You jumped and he laughed at you before trailing his tongue up to lick a stripe through Killer's semen. 

Kid stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya wouldn't get so pent up like that if ya let one of us take care of ya more often." He looked like he was in thought.

You looked up at Killer. Smug with the fact that not only did you tempt him but you did it enough that he let you touch him, too.

He seemed to know what you were thinking and sat up, running a hand over your cheek. "Soon, breadcrumb." 

You were both startled when Kid banged his fist against the wall. "Heat! Ya fuckin pervert!" Kid could sense the various metals that made up his outfit, caught the same way he caught you. He touched the small peephole. Kid squinted. "What's this?" He immediately rounded on you. "Yer a sneaky one. Now I get it." 

Killer cocked his head to the side, intrigued by Kid's outburst. 

Kid continued, "Yer working with Heat!" He looked at Killer. "Heat was helping her behind the scenes and she made it easier for him to watch in exchange!" Kid laughed darkly. "So that's how ya got yer hands on this," Kid used his magnetism to move the butt plug, getting you to yelp again. Kid nodded, clearly thinking about what to do with this information. He looked at you. "Ya wanna wear it so bad? Ya can keep it in until I tell ya to take it out." 

It turned out, Kid had Heat in the same situation as you. Realizing it when you both paused at the same moments during the day when Kid decided to fuck with you, trying to contain twitches and moans. Or at meal times when you both jumped in your seat. One particularly good moment, which Kid was quite proud of, was when he made you and Heat spar, playing with both of you while you fought. He could tell you both went off somewhere together afterwards, probably to relieve each other. He released you from the punishment after that, satisfied with the show he got. 

Next Chapter

[gachabastard]

Limbus Company Sinners as Fallen London Companions

Smashing my two hyperfixations together like dolls and making them kiss. What I'm seeking (lol) to do here is not to conflate the Sinners to existing Companions, but rather create Companions based off of them instead. If you know both things then this won't take any explaining.

For people who know Limbus Company but not Fallen London: Fallen London is a browser game made by Failbetter Studios. It is an alternate history of an 1800s London that has sunk deep below the earth into a subterranean cavern known as the Neath and is now overseen by the mysterious Masters of the Bazaar. You begin the game as a Surface-dweller who has recently descended into the Neath for certain reasons, which you are able to decide for yourself and act upon as you progress through the game. Companions are "equipment" of sorts that you can equip to increase (or lower) your character's stats. A full write-up of FL's mechanics could be another three separate posts on its own, so I recommend the wiki's Beginner's Guide and other resources therein to understand the mechanics I'll detail here. If you enjoy the writing in LCB you will most likely also love FL's writing. Please play it, it is awesome. (And lmk if you do, I'll add you as a friend and definitely not stab you in the back)

For people who know Fallen London but not Limbus Company: Limbus Company is a mobile game made by Project Moon. It is the third in a series of games, preceded by Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, which are both available for purchase on Steam, though Limbus Company can be played independently of these if you want; the player avatar is an amnesiac so things are generally explained as needed (though Lobcorp and LoR are also very good and I recommend them, but you do have to buy those, so). The game centers around a department of the titular Limbus Company, the Limbus Company Bus Team (often shortened to LCB), the twelve individuals referred to as Sinners who make up the team, and their amnesiac Manager named Dante as they brave the ruins of the old branches of Lobotomy Corporation to retrieve strange objects known as Golden Boughs. All of the major characters in LCB are based off of classic literature (for example, Dante is based off of Dante's Inferno). If you like FL's writing you may enjoy LCB, but it is a gacha game which turns a lot of people off. For character info you can visit the Fandom wiki (yeah I know, it's a Fandom wiki), and if you want to read the story so far without playing the game you can check out this github page which contains all of the story text.

And if you don't know either...I don't know why you're reading this, but I hope my explanations and provided resources are enough to help you understand it regardless.

Okay, wall of text out of the way, let's get into the actual point of the post. This isn't meant to be balanced or anything this is just for fun because I'm diseased. Also LIMBUS SPOILERS THRU CANTO VI sorry.

Starting off with Sinner #1, Yi Sang:

Mirror-Marred Litterateur In the Mirror's glass, he observed endless possibilities. One such possibility observed him back. Watchful +4, Glasswork +2, Bizarre +1

Reasoning: Honestly? I thought about Sang Yi chilling in Parabola and that colored my whole concept here. But for real the whole Mirror thing is too perfect. Yi Sang defines Glasswork.

Sinner #2, Faust

Hell-Touched Engineer She hasn't the eyes of a devil, but builds infernal machinery previously unseen outside of Hell. Claims to know all outcomes, but shares precious little. Dreaded +2, Artisan of the Red Science +2, Decreases Nightmare build up

Reasoning: Something something Faust something something Mephistopheles something something her base EGO heals SP.

Sinner #3, Don Quixote

Dreaming Knight The only weapon stronger than a dream is delusion. Dangerous +5, Mithridacy +2, Increases Scandal build up

Reasoning: DQ is so skilled in Mithridacy she's got herself convinced of untruths, man. She's also allowed little a Scandal. As a treat.

Sinner #4, Ryoshu

Bohemian Blademaster Her masterwork blade is her brush; her enemies, her canvas. Legend has it that even the Boatman respects her work. Dangerous +4, Dreaded +2, Monstrous Anatomy +1

Reasoning: I feel like this one's pretty self-explanatory. I added a point of MA since I feel like she'd want to be a bit knowledgeable in monster anatomy for Art Reasons

Sinner #5, Meursault

Chained Stranger "The Neath is a prison," he says matter-of-factly, "And I am here because I am meant to be." Despite this, one could swear they saw the sun reflecting off his eyes. Persuasive +2, Respectable +3, Reduces Scandal build up

Reasoning: Hehe did you see what I did there. I referenced the thing. Anyway aside from being pretty blunt, he's probably the best candidate out of the whole group for Respectable.

Sinner #6, Hong Lu

Bright-Eyed Debonair New to the Neath, from an affluent Surface family. The Neath's many delights confuse and excite him. Persuasive +2, Shadowy +1, Kataleptic Toxicology +1

Reasoning: I think Hong Lu being new to the Neath fits with him being sheltered in canon. Also +1 KA cuz you know that boy is hittin that Honey. The Honey-Dens of Veilgarden already know him by name.

Sinner #7, Heathcliff

Bereaved Ruffian He knows the backstreets of London like the scars on his hands. He remembers that which the world does not, and waits. Dangerous +8, Shadowy -3, Chthonosophy +1

Reasoning: Oops Canto VI colored the fuck out of this one oops oops oops. Happy Firmament Day btw have some Chthonosophy. :)

Sinner #8, Ishmael

Zeefaring Pathfinder She's hunted the most feared creatures known to the Zee, losing her way to chart a path for her mad captain. Her compass will see that she never loses sight of her path again. Zeefaring +2, Monstrous Anatomy +3, Increases Nightmares build up

Reasoning: Ishy-Fishy you were made to embody Zeefaring and MA.

Sinner #9, Rodion

Lacre-Drowned Cardshark Born in a run-down corner of London where the Lacre falls thickest at Sacksmas, she knows a thing or two about cards. She wouldn't mind teaching you...for a price. Persuasive +4, Watchful +6

Reasoning: Heart's Desire vibes. That's it.

Sinner #10, Dante

Timepiece Manager An infernal timepiece ticks away where a head should be. They have no memories of their own, but they can never forget again. Chthonosophy +2, Steward of the Discordance +1, Dangerous -5, Reduces Wounds build up

Reasoning: Congratulations Dante on being the only bitch to not have the Discordance because the Discordance isn't real. Ummm I went off vibes here but tbh I think Dante should decrease your Dangerous by way more actually. Hell, let's make then decrease Dreaded too. Let's make them a Weasel of Woe.

Sinner #11, Sinclair

Unrealized Prodigy Young and anxious, jumping at every shadow. His potential is very promising. Dangerous +6, Dreaded +1, Increases Wounds build up

Reasoning: Sinclair may be baby. But he is Scary Baby.

Sinner #12, Outis

Commanding Oneironaut She's led the forces of Parabola to victory more times than you could count. Don't ask her any questions. Dangerous +8, A Player of Chess +2, Glasswork +1

Reasoning: Everybody shut the fuck up Parabolan War General Outis is everything to me, you hear me. EVERYTHING. She favors the Chessboard, obviously, with that +2 to APoC.

Sinner #13, Gregor

Metamorphic Veteran A large insectoid pincer sits where a right arm should be. He'll talk about pretty much anything but the details around that. Seriously, be careful around that thing. Dangerous +5, Shapeling Arts +3, Bizarre +2

Reasoning: You had to know Gregor would be the only bitch to get Shapeling Arts. Look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't. I wanted to give him Persuasive due to his amicability but also he actually. Sucks at being persuasive like canonically, so. Dangerous it is.

BONUS! Vergilius

The Red Gaze The most feared Fixer in the Neath. Whatever could you have done to strike up an alliance with him? Watchful +30, Shadowy +30, Dangerous +30, Persuasive +30, Greatly reduces Nightmare build up

Reasoning: He's the Red Goat I ain't gotta explain shit.

anyway hope you enjoyed even though you definitely didn't. i have a headache now so i'm gonna go consume painkillers and caffeine and go run mirror dungeons in lcb for that limbus battle pass.

[soaps-mohawk]

RORY I NEED OPINIONS (please)

Something popped up on my page and it was about Ghost.

The person who posted proceeded to say how they've had enough of the mischaracterization of him. And other people in the comments have said the same. How whenever they see Ghost written as a cold mean guy, they think, "oh you've never read the comics or played the games."

Now, I'm not here to bash anyone. I just wanna know what you think of people who write OOC {insert character}? Or what do you think about it in general?

Okay, this is one of the things that bothers me the most about the mainstreaming of fandom and fanfiction.

The whole point of fanfiction, is to write the characters however you want to write them. Fanfiction does not have to stick to how characters are presented in fandom. Some might choose to, others might not. Some might choose to in certain fics, and then not to in others. OOC exists as a term for a reason. It's okay. You can write/draw/headcanon/whatever any character however you want because that's your interpretation, or because it's how you want the character to be in whatever situation you're putting them in.

I know I said I was done talking about this, but this circles back around to the whole dark fic issue. "X character wouldn't do this" according to who? The fandom police? That's the whole point. The whole point of fandom and fanfiction is to present the characters however you want. That's always been its purpose. Fix it fics, OOC, crack ficks, dark fics, AUs exist for a reason. Not every character has to act exactly as they do in canon. If you want that, then just watch/read/play the canon media and stay out of the fanfiction side of fandom.

People that get all up in arms about FANFICTION not sticking to canon events and portrayals are ruining fandom. They are. People wonder why creators and fans are leaving fandom, it's because it's not fun anymore. You write a character how you want to write them and there's 50 people complaining in the comments about how "that's not how they are in canon." Yeah? And? That's the point. It's like whole ship thing with people being mad about fans shipping characters that aren't together in canon. News flash, people have been doing that for ages. Since the dawn of fanfiction. People ship characters that aren't even in the same movie or show or game. You gonna get mad about a crossover fic because it's "not canon?"

If you can't accept that FANDOM and FANFICTION aren't always canon compliant then you need to not be in these spaces. Leave us alone and stick to just watching the show/movie or reading the book or playing the game, whatever. You're ruining fandom spaces for everyone. Most of us creators have been in these spaces for a lot longer than the people ruining them. I've been involved in fandoms for 18 years now. Far longer than I should have been, and honestly, if I didn't love writing fanfiction and use it as an outlet for myself so I don't go crazy, I probably would have left too.

These pearl clutchers and mainstream people flooding into fandom that refuse to learn the "rules" and accept how things have been for literal decades are ruining fandom for the rest of us and killing people's passions for writing and creating. Us creators don't have to share. We do it because we want to and because we enjoy seeing others reactions and the interaction that comes from it. We are all very capable of just writing or drawing and keeping them to ourselves. Soon there won't be such a thing as fandom because all the joy will have been sucked out of it. Creators are already leaving in droves because interaction is down to nothing. Add on people getting mad about things that are normal in fandom and soon there won't be anything left. People will be complaining about there being no fandoms and no fanfiction and fanart and video edits and gifs, even though we've been screaming why from the high heavens for years.

[davidthephoneguy]

Welcome to the Ghost Pals au!

So we got some goofy guys here, Time to meet the main cast now that it’s actually my birthday!

Apologies for the technical difficulties before

…….

Just give them a minute the need to get their costume change ready

Ok they’re ready now! Step through the curtain dudes! :D

First up is a new face! Please make her feel welcome :3

Key’s is the dayshift the dayshift employee, taking the place of Jack. She is based off the Australian finger lime which has a caviar looking inside as well as a spiked point on the end, both elements worked into her design.

She actually quite likes performing with the animatronics due to her enjoyment of music. Key’s seemingly doesn’t like talking about her life outside of Freddys or her past to anyone. I wonder what it is.

Key’s doesn’t particularly love Freddys but did used to go there as kid. She is mostly just there for the paycheck, little does she know about how Freddy’s pays their employees.

Oh dear she found out… I’m sure it’ll be fine as long as she didn’t sign the contract- hm looks like she did oh well.

On to the next goober, a classic!

Look its the sad wet cat

David’s the assistant manager for the location, he’s been moved from location to location due to causing accidents for all his previous managers. He’s on his last warning so let’s hope theres no issues this time ;)

Onto the next character in the walls of Freddys

Wowzas look at this lil chaotic kidoo

Jannette came to Freddys on her birthday but got mixed up and joined another certain party group. She became one of the children in the missing kids incident however she has no memory of the event which is probably for the best, I dont think she needs that on her mind.

She haunts the kids cove and creates it into her world of play, quite literally at times.

She plays games and tricks with another being in the restaurant.

And look theres the other being!

The ghost phone cat is back again!

Stevm’s comfy outfit was made through him mix and matching clothes.

He doesn’t think fully alot of the time and tries to just have fun similar to Jannettes attitude with a lack of moral compass. Stevm also has memory issues due to a combination of the phone ai when he was alive and the perception of time in the flipside.

Stevm is rather chaotic neutral and haunts the arcade, he likes pulling pranks and spooking people for the fun of it.

The whole things takes place in 1999 and I can clarify any related dates as I have some headcanoned ones that I dont think are the same as the canon. Except the missing kids incident, that still takes place in 1985.

Well thats the main cast! I hope you like them so far, been workin hard on em and making them work together.

The storyline will be a mix of text posts and images but you all are welcome to interact with them (most likely non canonically)

I’ll reveal more as things go on :3