#Lost Roleplay

[whiteprissybitch]

it’s crazy how difficult it is to find roleplay partners in the year 2024, i wish it was 2013 again 😭

[roleplayfinder]

hello! i know it's a long shot but i recently rewatched LOST and i'm dying to write about it. my favs, and the ones i want to write for, are sayid and daniel but i'll consider trying my hand at pretty much anyone to scratch this itch. plot-heavy preferred but will consider most ships, including ocs. (let's leave the kate/jack/sawyer triangle in the 2000s where it belongs, though.) i'm 30 and prefer to write on discord. :)

.

[johnmurphysgirl]

[prpfz]

♡ hello! i know it's a long shot but i recently rewatched LOST and i'm dying to write about it. my favs, and the ones i want to write for most, are sayid and daniel but i'll consider trying my hand at pretty much anyone to scratch this itch. plot-heavy preferred but will consider most ships, including ocs. (let's leave the kate/jack/sawyer triangle in the 2000s where it belongs, though.) i'm 30 and prefer to write on discord. :)

give a like and anon will get back to you

[ask-hollowknights]

The Broken Vessel is currently under the watchful care of the Nailmaster, Oro.

[hiromicota]

Earlier today, Paizo announced long awaited books for their Asian inspired continent Tian Xia. Unlike many other companies attempting projects that large, Paizo went out of their way to hire damn near every Asian TTRPG writer in the business.

 I’ve worked on ~100 books & games. I’m often the only Asian on a project. It’s rare to have more than 1 other Asian on a book with me.

The Tian Xia books?

There were like 40 of us! 😲

I’m really glad that Paizo took the time to do this right. 💚

Players are going to see what a difference that level of representation makes when they get their hands on Tian Xia & see the massive diversity of Asian cultures & experiences reflected in the books.

I’m not just talking about countries or ethnicities; there’s also different stories of identity — diasporic groups, immigrant experiences, people reconnecting with their heritage, refugees, people finding & making places of belonging, … The sheer breadth of Asian experiences and identities represented in Pathfinder’s Tian Xia team and in our books is astounding. 

This is why representation matters.

[probablybadrpgideas]

Changeling: the Lost but you're doing fine.

You're not sure what everyone's so upset about, you've got cool fairy powers and everything's great. Your keeper took you out for ice-cream

[vintagerpg]

Lost Pages loves grimoires. The Book of Gaub (2021) is their most ambitious grimoire to date. It’s an expansion of the systemless magic system initially laid out in Wonder & Wickedness and Marvels & Malisons. Casters can cast one of these spells for every level they are; they can ignore the casting rules as well, as the risk of catastrophes (of which the book provides 100 horrific examples that serve as both a warning and an invitation). There is also a bunch of monsters, adventure hooks and magic items as well.

The main attraction, though, is the hand of Gaub, or, more accurately, the seven fingers of Gaub, which amount to seven different collections of seven magic spells. Gaub is not really defined, but we can intuit from the awful nature of the magic here that whatever it is, it isn’t pleasant. So we have the Finger Under the Floorboards and the Finger That is Not There and the Finger Gnawed to the Bone and so on. Each is written by a different author — I don’t recognize most of the names aside of Lost Pages’ own Paolo Greco and Charlie Ferguson-Avery (Into the Wyrd and Wild), but that’s OK since there is no clear credit for who wrote what anyway.

The result is extremely grimoire-ish. The names of spells are deeply obscure: “Deartuate,” “Filodictate,” “Visamnesium.” Most are accompanied by an evocative micro-fiction. The spell descriptions, however, cut through the foggy obfuscation with clear prose. That last spell, for instance, creates, after a week of labor, a fixed sigil within a building or structure that will erase all memory of the place and what happens there when a person sets eyes on it. That’s not super horrible, though. But “Pamphagous” is: that causes the victim to have a ceaseless hunger for the duration of the spell, and to eat anything within reach, even if it would kill them; they’ll rise as hungry undead if they die while under the spell. Now that’s nasty.

[kabutoden]

if aradia's death was just in-character for a long roleplay, what's the deal with tavros and terezi's disabilities? did vriska have anything to do with them?

She Did Do Those Things. vriska no!!!!!!

[starmocha]

We're waiting on vampire Sylus, but they gave us a nomad instead

[whiteprissybitch]

Whew, haven’t been on here in a white! For the first time, I watched Lost. I finished it about a week ago and immediately started rewatching that. Sayid is my favorite character EVER, and I really grew to love Shannon. I’m devastated she was killed off so early! Even though the show came out 20 years ago, there is surprisingly not a lot of fan fiction about them! So I guess I’m going to dip my toe back into role playing, it’s been about 2 or 3 years, so I may be a little rusty 😅 All that being said, feel free to message me if you’re interested in playing Sayid Jarrah across my Shannon Rutherford!

[johnmurphysgirl]

Sneak peak at upcoming first chapter on BNW LOST: Whatever Happened, Happened. A discord roleplay server that I invite all you lost fans to join in on, even if you're just interested in being a spectator!

[asmrrpaddict]

In voice alone, because… well, you’ll understand. Throughout most of today’s Lasko’s HBS video, I couldn’t place why the voice sounded so familiar (other than being Erik of course) then it finally hit me!!!

LASKO IS MR. MILO JAMES THATCH!!!! I kept picturing a nerdy lanky type guy with glasses. Something about the voice tonight other than the actual words because Milo (Disney Milo) is a PG rating guy while the audio was… not.

As I’m writing this it kind of cracks me up thinking about more, somewhat grasping at straws, connections.

Kida: Milo’s love interest, associated with the color blue and her home was taken by waves = Dear being Lasko’s love interest and a water elemental.

Rourke: bad guy who pretended to be a good man just wanting to help Milo and who sacrificed Helga to save himself = Kody who pretended to be Freelancer’s friend until he betrayed their trust and sacrificed who knows how many to save himself during the Inversion.

Go with me now on this one.

Helga: woman who “seduced” Milo into going to Mr. Whitmore’s then teased him later when they met again and all around made Milo nervous = Gavin. They had their first… encounter then Gavin proceeds to tease him every chance he gets.

Vinny: a man who likes explosions and can get a bit away sometimes, but ultimately just wants to settle down comfortably = Damian a fire elemental who can get carried away with multiple things, but who just wants a nice life with Hux and helping human borns.

Audrey: a capable woman in her own right who doesn’t take crap and worked hard to get to where she is, but she isn’t always taken seriously as a young woman = Freelancer someone who has struggled being human born and has had to work hard to prove they are equal to those born with powers and does their own thing no matter what anyone says.

Mole: dirt lover who loves to dig holes = Huxley an earth elemental who loves to dig holes. That is the only way I’m comparing our boy Hux to the creepy troll.

The King of Atlantis: grumpy old man who wants people out of his way = Jett from the Department wanting to be left alone by (Redacted) Milo and Lasko.

Bonus points:

Helga and Cookie’s conversation about the food groups = Gavin vs Hux and Freelancer’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Because I loved his character so much I’m really need a way to include him that I’m reaching for a connection:

Dr Sweet: doctor who loves what he does and is loved by all = Sam a healer who loves it and is loved by all but Quinn and Alexis, but no one cares what they think. 😆

I hope Erik got some inspiration from this amazingly underrated film!!!

[diary-of-a-demigod]

here are some beds at camp:

this is the makeout in the forest so you can pretend no one sees bed (location: if your really that desperate, youll find it)

leo swears to the gods that he sleeps better like this (i do!!!) but we’re pretty sure hes just exhausted (location: under one of the workbenches in bunker 9)

clarisse keeps trapping tired campers in here, we think its her way of showing she cares? (location: changes to follow tired campers)

leo made this as a gag gift for jason but now he, jason and piper have sleepovers where he apparently gets trapped between them as they both attempt to cuddle him to death (location: cabin 1)

[4a-t5u]

This reminds me of you

CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SECOND??? OH MY GOD.

[elryuse]

Hey can I ask for yandere xiaoting ?

Devil In Disguise

YANDERE XIAOTING X MALE READER

Xiaoting, a vision of flawless beauty sculpted by stylists and fueled by caffeine, pushed open the familiar door of her favorite cafe. The air, thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans, was a welcome escape from the sterility of her practice studio. But today, the enticing scent was overshadowed by a different kind of allure.

Behind the counter stood a boy with hair the color of dark chocolate that seemed to absorb the warm light filtering through the window. His eyes, a deep brown that held a warmth that sent a shiver down her spine, were focused intently on the espresso machine. He was handsome, yes, undeniably so, but it was his smile – genuine, unburdened by the pressures of fame that she carried like a second skin – that truly captivated her.

"Can I get you something?" he asked, his voice a pleasant baritone that rumbled in a way that made her knees weak.

"Hmm," Xiaoting purred, leaning against the counter. Her stage persona, a mix of icy cool and smoldering sensuality, came naturally. It was a shield, a carefully crafted armor that protected her from the emotional onslaught of constant scrutiny. Here, though, in this tiny cafe with its worn wooden tables and mismatched mugs, it felt heavy. "Idk.. Surprise me."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine once more. "Coming right up," he said, his smile widening. As he worked, she stole glances, memorizing the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he steamed the milk, the way his fingers danced across the espresso machine with a practiced ease. Finally, he slid a steaming cup towards her, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Here you go," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "Hope it surprises you pleasantly."

"I'm sure it will," Xiaoting said, her voice a husky murmur. "By the way, I'm Xiaoting."

He smiled, his name tag reading "Y/n. Nice to meet you, Xiaoting. So, what brings a beautiful girl like you to my humble cafe?"

The question was simple, but it sent a jolt through her. Rarely did people see beyond the mask she wore for the cameras. An idea, delicious and dangerous, sparked in her mind.

"Just looking for a little escape," she said, her voice tinged with a calculated vulnerability. They talked for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was only a stolen half-hour between customers. She learned about his dreams of becoming a musician, his love for classic novels that she'd only ever seen adapted into movies, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at a particularly bad joke she told. It was intoxicating, this taste of normalcy, of genuine connection.

But as she went to leave, her heart plummeted.

"Hey," Y/n called. "I don't usually ask this, but…" He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a napkin. "Would you like to keep in touch?"

A thrill shot through her. This was better than she could have hoped for. But then, a girl, blonde and bubbly, linked arms with Y/n, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey babe, sorry I'm late!"

Xiaoting's smile froze, the warmth in her replaced by a chilling emptiness that spread through her like ice. "Girlfriend?" she croaked, her voice devoid of its usual playful lilt.

Y/n's face fell. "Oh, right. This is…" His eyes darted between them, confusion etched on his face. "This is Xiaoting, and…"

"No need to introduce me," Xiaoting cut in, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness that tasted like ash in her mouth. It was a performance, a carefully crafted mask once more, but this time, it was fueled by something far more potent than practiced charm. "It's lovely to meet you. Y/n tells me wonderful things about you."

The lie flowed effortlessly, a seed planted in the fertile ground of the girl's insecurities. Later, alone in her luxurious apartment, the mask shattered. Rage contorted her face, a terrifying transformation that would send shivers down the spine of anyone who witnessed it. A mere pop star, a nobody, dared to have someone she desired? The thought was an insult, a challenge to her carefully constructed world.

The following days were a blur of activity. Xiaoting, the master manipulator with a team of loyal and discreet individuals at her beck and call, orchestrated a flawless plan. A carefully placed photo, an anonymous tip to the tabloids that fueled the ever-hungry gossip machine, and a manufactured public meltdown on Y/n's girlfriend's part did the trick. Days later, Y/n, heartbroken and confused, found himself sitting across from Xiaoting in her opulent apartment, a stark contrast to the cozy cafe.

Y/n stared at Xiaoting, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Tears had carved glistening tracks through the caked-on makeup his ex had insisted on before their "emotional" break-up video.

"It's all a lie, isn't it?" he rasped, his voice raw with betrayal. "The cheating, the whole thing."

Xiaoting, perched on a plush velvet sofa, her designer dress impeccably styled, reached out and squeezed his hand. Her touch, usually electric, felt cold and calculating. "Oh, Y/n," she cooed, her voice dripping with manufactured sympathy. "Don't listen to the media vultures. They just want to create drama."

Her practiced smile didn't reach her eyes. Y/n, however, blinded by grief and the subtle shift in her demeanor, clung to her words like a lifeline.

"She seemed so genuine in the video," he mumbled, his voice thick with despair. "She even had… proof."

A flicker of triumph passed through Xiaoting's eyes, masked by a concerned frown. "Proof that can be easily fabricated, darling," she purred. "You know how these things work."

Y/n nodded numbly, his mind reeling. Xiaoting leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper. "You deserve better, Y/n. Someone who will cherish you, who understands you. Someone like me."

He looked up, his gaze searching hers. In that moment, a flicker of something dark, something possessive, glinted in her eyes. But Y/n, lost in his emotional turmoil, missed it.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered, defeated.

Xiaoting's smile bloomed, genuine this time. "Then believe in me," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous possessiveness. "Believe that I can make you happy."

And in that vulnerable state, Y/n did. Blinded by the illusion of comfort and the toxic sweetness of her words, he allowed himself to fall into her carefully constructed web.

Days turned into weeks, then months. Xiaoting, the idol with a seemingly perfect life, became his haven. But the haven was a gilded cage, its bars disguised as luxury and affection.

His phone calls with friends became "intrusions into their healing." His attempts to pursue music, his long-held dream, were dismissed as "unrealistic distractions." The outside world became a blur, filtered through Xiaoting's carefully curated narrative.

One evening, amidst a candlelit dinner, Xiaoting casually mentioned a camera crew arriving the next day to film a "day in the life" segment.

Y/n froze, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "A camera crew? Here?"

Xiaoting, all innocence, feigned surprise. "Oh honey, didn't I mention? It's a surprise! They want to showcase our beautiful love story."

His unease morphed into terror. The manufactured reality she'd created suffocated him. But before he could protest, she reached for his hand, her grip a vice.

"Don't worry, darling," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling sweetness. "It'll be perfect. After all, the whole world deserves to see how happy we are, right?"

Y/n's pleas were drowned out by the manufactured sweetness of her voice. Trapped in her gilded cage, his future stretched before him, not a haven of love, but a prison built on lies and a terrifying obsession.

The camera crew bustled around the apartment, their presence a suffocating weight on Y/n's chest. Every stolen glance at Xiaoting confirmed his growing suspicion. Her smile, practiced for countless interviews, seemed strained around the edges. Her eyes, usually sparkling with manufactured cheer, held a glint of something manic.

As they filmed their "candid" interactions, Y/n fumbled for words. Xiaoting, ever the professional, filled the silence with fabricated anecdotes about their whirlwind romance, peppered with possessiveness disguised as affection.

Later, after the crew departed, the air grew thick with a suffocating tension. Y/n, his hands clammy with unease, finally found his voice.

"Xiaoting," he started, his voice barely a whisper. "It felt… staged. Everything."

Xiaoting's smile faltered for a brief moment, then reappeared, wider and somehow colder. "Staged? How silly, darling. It was just a little awkwardness, that's all."

He wasn't convinced. The way she'd hovered over him, her touch lingering a beat too long, the way her gaze flickered to the phone whenever it buzzed – it all screamed control.

"Can I… can I call my friends sometime?" Y/n asked, his voice small.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Xiaoting's face, quickly masked. "Oh, honey, you know how the media is. They'd twist anything into a story. We wouldn't want them to paint a wrong picture of our perfect relationship, would we?"

Y/n swallowed the retort that rose in his throat. He felt a growing sense of isolation, a gnawing loneliness that her constant presence couldn't fill.

Days blurred into weeks. Phone calls became a distant memory, replaced by Xiaoting's curated schedule of "romantic outings" and "couple interviews." He was a prop in her meticulously crafted narrative, his own dreams and desires pushed further and further out of reach.

One night, while Xiaoting slept, Y/n stumbled upon her phone. A morbid curiosity gnawed at him. He knew it was wrong, but the need to understand his situation overpowered his conscience.

His breath hitched as he saw text messages exchanged with a private number. The messages were cold, calculating, filled with instructions about manipulating interviews and maintaining their "perfect" facade.

But what truly sent chills down his spine was the final message: "Target successfully isolated. Phase two: public declaration."

Y/n's blood ran cold. He wasn't Xiaoting's lover; he was a pawn in a twisted game orchestrated by a woman consumed by a possessive obsession. Fear, sharp and primal, clawed at his throat.

He knew then that he had to escape. But how? Xiaoting controlled everything – his access to the outside world, his finances, even his reputation.

He spent the next few days formulating a plan, a desperate gamble fuelled by a newfound strength. He started subtly leaving messages for his old bandmate on social media, hidden in plain sight within innocuous comments. He pretended to be enthusiastic about Xiaoting's upcoming album release, subtly planting seeds of doubt about their relationship in interviews.

The night before the album release party, Y/n finally made his move. He waited until Xiaoting fell asleep, then packed a small bag with essentials. He knew she'd wake up soon, so he had to be quick.

He tiptoed towards the door, his heart hammering in his chest. Just as he grasped the knob, a cold voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Going somewhere, darling?" Xiaoting stood there, her eyes blazing with a terrifying fury.

Y/n's mouth went dry. "Xiaoting, I… I just need some air."

"No," she said, her voice a steely whisper. "You're not going anywhere. You belong to me now."

Y/n knew then that reasoning was futile. He had to fight his way out. He lunged for the door, but Xiaoting was faster. She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

A struggle ensued, desperate and brutal. Y/n, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, managed to break free and sprint towards the window. He threw it open, the cool night air a welcome shock.

"Y/n don't!!" Xiaoting screamed, her voice laced with a chilling desperation.

He didn't look back. He scrambled onto the fire escape, adrenaline masking the fear threatening to consume him. He descended quickly, ignoring the burn in his legs, until he reached the ground and melted into the night.

He knew this was just the beginning. Xiaoting wouldn't give up easily. But for the first time in months, he felt a flicker of hope. He was free, and he would do He sprinted through the deserted streets, the rhythmic pounding of his feet the only sound in the night. Glancing back every few seconds, his heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He didn't see Xiaoting, but the chilling memory of her desperate plea sent shivers down his spine.

Reaching his old friend's apartment, he pounded on the door with shaking hands. Relief flooded him when the familiar face of his bandmate, Mark, appeared. But before Y/n could explain, a car screeched to a halt outside, its headlights momentarily blinding him.

"Y/n!" Mark gasped, pulling him back inside just as the apartment door splintered. Xiaoting, her face contorted with rage, stormed in, a gaggle of security guards flanking her.

"There you are!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom.

Y/n's frantic pleas for help fell on deaf ears. The security guards, well-versed in the art of celebrity wrangling, subdued him with practiced ease. Mark, powerless against the tide, could only watch in horror.

Back in the gilded cage, Xiaoting's rage had morphed into a chilling calm. Gone was the facade of the loving girlfriend. Y/n sat across from her, his wrists bound with silk scarves, the very picture of a dethroned king.

"You shouldn't have tried to leave," Xiaoting said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Now, things will have to change."

A cold dread filled Y/n. He knew then that escape was no longer an option. Xiaoting wouldn't simply lock him away; she would control him. His career, his reputation, his very identity – all would become pawns in her twisted game.

The following days were a blur of media manipulation. Xiaoting, the heartbroken victim, spun a tale of a troubled boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown. Public sympathy flowed freely, further isolating Y/n.

He was allowed to keep his phone, but under constant surveillance. His band, ostracized and pressured by Xiaoting's powerful team, reluctantly distanced themselves. The world he once knew crumbled around him.

Weeks turned into months. Y/n became a ghost of his former self, a talented musician reduced to a silent shadow beside the ever-smiling Xiaoting. He was forced to participate in interviews, his every word carefully scripted.

One day, during a live performance, a flicker of defiance sparked in his eyes. As Xiaoting launched into a love song, he reached for the microphone, his voice hoarse but resolute.

"This isn't real," he rasped, the words catching in his throat. "She's keeping me prisoner."

The music screeched to a halt. Shock rippled through the audience. Security guards rushed the stage before Y/n could utter another word.

But the damage was done. The carefully crafted facade had a gaping hole. Whispers turned into accusations. Public opinion shifted, a seed of doubt planted.

Xiaoting, however, remained unfazed. Public scrutiny was a game she knew how to play. She painted Y/n as delusional, a victim of his own mental breakdown. Her carefully calculated tears and veiled threats of self-harm swayed the narrative back in her favor.

Y/n, isolated and silenced once more, sank deeper into despair. He knew he might never truly escape Xiaoting's grasp. She had woven a web of control so intricate, so pervasive, that it had become his reality.

The story ended not with a dramatic escape or a heroic rescue, but with a slow, suffocating descent. Y/n remained a prisoner, not behind bars, but within the gilded cage of a twisted obsession, his music and his dreams forever silenced by the chilling melody of Xiaoting's love song.