#Need to write a character like this someday

[moonlitbeth]

the Valleydream Bloom yapping session, hear me out on this one please. share your thoughts, too!

as someone who lives for lore and every little reference, i'm always picking apart each piece of content we get in the game. but tbh, i mostly do it in my head, since my brain's too overwhelmed to turn those thoughts into words. it's basically a cliché detective board with red strings connecting one clue to another (you got that It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia reference).

but i can't stay quiet after finishing Valleydream Bloom. perhaps it's becoming a bad habit to say that each new Sylus' card is better than the last, but honestly? that's a pretty logical conclusion given how their relationship keeps evolving.

after Where Hearts Live, i saw some discourse popping up abt the recent cards starting to feel "repetitive" — flowers, grasslands, them lying in said flowers and grasslands. but here's the thing: when you have one limited myth and one anecdote, with scattered hints and fleeting phrases open to a thousand takes, there's only so much room to work. and yet, Sylus' team keeps delivering and adding new layers to his character, expanding old themes into fresh ones, and leaving more clues for future content. that's top-tier writing and clear devotion to his character, my dears. ppl have gotten used to fast, easy-to-digest content that's stripped of any real depth. a nod to a character’s core topics? that's gold, not just some shiny fluff. and Valleydream Bloom hit me with such raw honesty and bittersweet ache that i needed to reread the story three times through tears.

we got everything we wanted, from the story itself to the kindled part. the main story Sylus is back, delivering this perfect power couple dynamic with MC — playful and so well balanced with the Sylus we see in the beginning of the card, who goes to the movies and puts his beloved's comfort over his own (tho i can't help but laugh imagining this grandpa grumbling abt his knees after).

and the part where he buys the castle after the mission? that detail isn't even abt his absurd wealth, it's abt his long-term intentions and faith that what’s deep-deep inside matters more than what’s outside. that someday, once MC's memories return, they'll both share the true meaning of that castle and the secret spot next to it.

🐉 and now to the main course... (the course is quite chaotic)

Sylus repeatedly cut off parts of himself that defined who he was, but now, he's embraced every piece — the "dragon" parts of his attire, the book of myths, and the undeniable traits of his true nature. but most importantly, the words he says:

"This is the perfect place for dragon tales. Dragons make homes in flower-covered valleys. If a dragon knows it will die soon… It flies to a valley far from its kin and waits alone. In the dragon's final moments… flowers will bloom from its body. Only when the flowers cover every bone does the dragon pass away."

it's not a dragon tale, but his tale, his story. at least the happiest part, wrapped in careful metaphors, told in a place that mirrors his final resting spot, where he died in MC's arms. the valley of the past has become the valley of the present.

and please, this? It flies to a valley far from its kin and waits alone (present) — We fly over the black obsidian chapel and crash into a valley filled with blooming datura (myth).

it hurts. even in their shared dream in Abyssal Blossom, before "justice" was ever served, he showed her this valley, almost as if he knew what was coming. and right before his death, he took MC there again to share the solitude of death with his beloved.

also, the idea of death that gives birth to new life — flowers that bloom from the dragon's body. his body nourished the soil and turned death into beauty. given that, it feels like the whole Blossom Escape event fits Sylus so perfectly (i mean, this man's soul smells like flowers).

this post is getting so long and chaotic that i can't fit all my thoughts in (i did warn you). but i'll say this — the card is a major piece and not a filler banner. huge kudos to the writing and dev teams, they deserve a round of applause, while we deserve a solid pat on our backs, because i can't stop thinking that smth painful and heart-wrenching is coming soon for us, Sylus mains 🐦‍⬛

[eleventhhourfactor]

Heard a fellow writing homie needed help✨

Bowser- 💋

Peach- 😭

Mario- 🎧

Luigi- 👽

Yes, these are all Mario characters, but hey, I'm a sucker for that kind of angst!

The way I have three windows in a group open to do this shit…it looks ridiculous, but not the same level as Eric Barone's original desk setup.

Anyway, with this ask game in mind, let's get into these scenes! I'm gonna get a bit experimental with these, so bear with me. It'll be well worth the read.

Seriously, @creativesnek, this is the kind of start I've been waiting for. Thank you so so much for humoring me. Let's do this thing.

Bowser - Bloody Lip 💋

Things would be easier if his minions would leave him alone. It was bad enough that he'd had his ass handed to him by Red, who'd been especially fired up about the circumstances he'd walked into. It had gotten worse as they got into it, trading blow for blow across the cobblestone arena of his dungeon as Peaches, his prize, watched from above.

No. Plumber boy just had to sock him in the jaw, at just the right spot to nick himself with his own fangs. It was enough to make him seethe, and he'd already lost it at a handful of troops who'd come to check on him and discuss the casualties of his latest conquest.

"Figure it out yourselves!" he'd roared, turning them back out into the halls.

Imbeciles, all of them. It was like they wanted him to keep feeling the pain of wounds reopened. He wiped away the blood on his lower lip, wincing when the split-open scab peeled off into the smear on the back of his hand.

Someday, Mario would get what was coming to him. Bowser would make sure of it. Someday, he'd spill the so-called hero's blood for all the world to see.

Peach - Acid Tears 😭

She needed to stop crying. Whatever was afflicting her was burning itself into her cheekbones, no doubt etching permanent paths down her face where a river's worth had long since fallen. At the same time, she couldn't hold back from the corrosive spillover, which had eaten away at her silk gloves and the skin beneath as she tried (and failed) to keep her composure.

She wanted to call down to Mario, fighting ever so steadfastly, to tell him that there was more to this than they could've ever imagined. Bowser had been nothing more than a red herring in this whole ordeal; their efforts would be best conserved for later on. Her attempts to shout left her reeling in pain, stumbling back against the bars in utter frustration.

Down below, Mario and Bowser continued to fight. She knew fully well they wouldn't stop until somebody was knocked unconscious, and they were running out of time. She got to her knees and bowed low against the floor of her cage, trying not to wince as her burned skin brushed against the cool iron.

She took a breath, one that hitched in her throat, and called forth her tears one last time.

Mario - Burst Ear Drums 🎧

His ears had been ringing long before the fight. It made it hard to guess what was coming, but Mario could work with it—especially when it came to a square-off with Bowser, who was nothing if not somewhat predictable.

It all came down to timing—making his moves before the vertigo could take hold. He wasn't even looking down like when Luigi was struck with the spins; too many steps to the left would do it, so he ducked to the right whenever he had the chance. One chance would lead to another, eventually giving him an opening.

When the opportunity finally showed itself, he took it, socking Bowser right in the kisser. As the mighty dragon Koopa fell to his knees, Mario directed his momentum into one last jump, clambering up the bars for the mechanism on top. With a twist, the chain clinked around an unseen pulley, hurtling down before Mario pulled them all into a far slower descent. He climbed down when the cage settled against the cobblestone, prying open the latch as Peach rushed into his arms.

He sank to his knees, stroking her hair as she cried into his shoulder. Her tears ate through the cotton, but he paid them no mind. In his pockets lay the solution to all their problems—the first of which would be the neutralization of his Princess's acidic tears.

Once he got home, he'd sort out the rest.

Luigi - Alien Infection 👽

It hurt to be alone, but he knew it was for the best. Whatever was ailing him had forced him into bed long before Mario had set out, snaking its tendrils down the bedposts and up the walls once the door was locked.

It was getting harder to stay put, to keep himself away from others. The infection was crying out to the living things outside these walls, trying to ease Luigi's loneliness with the promise of togetherness.

Luigi was scared of what it promised, what that would entail for his friends and family. To share a mind, to be everywhere at once, even as his decaying body hung from the rafters, his growths emitting infectious spores?

No. He couldn't let this thing win. Never mind how alone he was, with no one to share the experience with. No one to sympathize with, to feel the life seeping out of him, feeding something greater than himself—

No!

So long as he could help it, he'd hold down the fort. Let the sickness ravage him, so long as he kept the kingdom safe.

One way or another, he'd be back together with everyone he knew and loved.

[homoromantixx]

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[purgaytorysupremacy]

oh nuts. a life experience has given me a new layer of perspective on Cas's homosexual declaration of love to Dean.

recently I had occasion to tell a person I had feelings for them knowing full well they didn't feel even a twinge of the same thing for me. while the whole thing was a decidedly unpleasant experience, I kept laughing at myself internally bc I didn't want to say "the happiness is just in saying it" like fucking Castiel over here. (we don't need to talk about it, it's fine.) (I am happier having said it and it's kind of bullshit, but I digress.)

because the thing is, the happiness isn't in just saying it, right? the happiness is in the having. I made a whole TikTok "proving" that the Empty didn't come for Cas when he confessed his love, but rather when he realized Dean loved him back. even for Cas, the happiness was in the having, not in the saying, however brief it was.

and I've always been one of those people who rolled their eyes at the whole concept. why would the happiness be in just being, in just saying it, if it's right there in front of you to have. and then it hit me like a tonne of bricks (as I was washing my kitchen counters).

Cas really didn't think he could have Dean.

at all. in any capacity. he really, truly, and honestly felt to the depths of himself that Dean did not have any twinge of similar feelings, that this really was a Hail Mary shot-in-the-dark. and I think me, personally, really didn't understand that about Cas. that his belief in his love being unrequited was that unshakable.

something else I've been pondering is how audiences have so much more empathy for fictional characters who share traits that IRL they find objectionable and unappealing. but the thing is about fictional characters is that we follow them around in their most private, vulnerable moments. we see Dean mourning Cas when he dies, literally killing himself because he can't live without him, but it's so easy to forget that we're the omniscient ones here.

Cas never knew.

Dean's whole thing was pushing him away, keeping him at arm's length, making it seem like whatever heroic thing he does for Cas he'd do for anyone. he downplays how important it is for Dean to share the Deancave with him, to show him his favourite movies, share his favourite songs. he acts like the things Cas does for him don't mean that much to hide how much they do mean. he uses "we" whenever he even gets in the vicinity of expressing a feeling. "We were worried." "We're glad you're back." "We needed a win." "You're our brother." The audience knew the difference. We saw how he'd clench his jaw or swallow hard or make a face that said "God, I'm being such an idiot". Because we saw him in those little moments. We got to see the cracks in the mask.

but Cas never knew.

the self-hating angel of Thursday was never going to think it was all a way for Dean to protect himself. obviously, that's the delicious tragedy of it all, but what I think I realized at the end of all that is Cas confessing his love to a Dean who didn't love him back wouldn't have worked. Because the happiness really is in the having. If happiness was just in saying it, then The Empty would have come before Cas even finished getting the words out of his mouth.

so Cas's plan wouldn't have worked if Dean didn't love him back.

this is just me yapping on about my own nonsense, but I do think it's really interesting. there's contentment in "just saying it". there's freedom and relief and an unburdening. I think one can argue that it makes being happy in the being easier. there is certainly some joy in telling a person you think that highly of them. but true happiness?

nah.

true happiness is always going to only be in the having. Cas didn't understand the difference until he experienced it, and by then, it was too late.

[metanarrates]

Saw your post about people not understand interpersonal harm in regards to the new girl post and I'm intrested in your views on it because I really do feel the fandom in general has a tendency of sorting characters into reductove boxes of victim and perpetrator when the reality of the system of power within deltarune is that often times characters will be both.

Take for example spamton, some people will talk about how he sucks and how they dont understand why anybody likes himw hile others talk about how he is a victim of circumstance and his suckage as one might say is simply an effect of that.

In comparison the reality is much more intresting, spamton is in a weaker position of power that leads to him to be taken advantage of, but his response to that is deciding the only way to nwver be victimised again is to become the victimiser (or become an enabler to other victimisers like in snowgrave)

Bro thinks he can win at capitalism, he thinks he's a temporarily embarrassed billionare, he thinks if he just becomes powerful enough no one can hurt him

(Its no coincidence to me that this is the view of other characters aswell, such as chara and susie)

What adds more complexity to this then, is not only can all characters be responsible for causing harm aswell as be harmed is that they can be that way regardless of action or inaction

As seen in the new girl post, susie is the one who took action that harmed kris, and noelle's inaction is what allowed kris to be harmed.

Regardles whether you take action or not youre still a participant in this system of power, and you are now unable to seperate yourself from it

Many people have come to conclusion that by playing this game, by our presence, by our *action*, in this game as the player we are causing harm, but reminder, if we give up, if we fall into *inaction* the world is blanketed in darkness

Some people only focus on the former and conclude that the only winning option is not to play, but as shown by the latter inaction will just lead to another loss

There is no winning within deltarune's systems of power, and i think thats the point

Anyway if i had infinite time i would like to make a youtube essay on the topic because man i feel like a lot of people ignore this aspect of deltarune, granted im not 100% confident in my conclusions here but i feel like im onto something

yeah! you totally get it! deltarune is a game that depicts entrenched systems of power and characters will react to the harm they recieve in those systems in various ways incl. hurting other people! there is no winning! and you've hit the nail on the head with spamton - it's honestly SO refreshing to see a nuanced opinion on his character because of what you've just described.

i think wrt the new girl post - a lot of people are also taking the interpersonal harm described as being serious & unrecoverable? like, oh, noelle is a bad person and irredeemable for watching it happen and not taking it that seriously, or toby fox is writing susie ooc for being mean to kris and then later becoming friends with them, and like...

it's a plot point. that susie is a character who acts like a bully out of demonstrably bad personal circumstances. she's heavily implied to be neglected to the point where she's food insecure. it seems like no adults are looking out for her. she picks on kris because she feels insecure by them seeming unintimidated by her. this is the beginning of her arc. she learns to be kinder afterwards. she is, like you described, acting within a world that has made her feel powerless and alone, and is trying to gain power in an immature and mean way so she won't be hurt anymore. it's not irredeemable behavior lol

and tbh. kris doesn't seem that bothered. that's not to say bullying is okay - it isn't - but i honestly feel the fan reaction is kind of overblown? noelle doesn't take it that seriously, imo, partly because kris doesn't seem to take it that seriously. there could be hidden complexities involved and maybe they are much more hurt than they let on, but I don't like the idea that this renders noelle and susie forever bad people? they're kids, they fuck up sometimes, and it seems like kris is pretty happy being susie's friend even after that. if there's lasting harm, I feel like the narrative is going to be able to unpack that. I don't understand the discourse most of the time here.

i guess sort of my end statement here is that a lot of fandom, esp in deltarune, tends to parse "interpersonal harm" as "always serious irrecoverable damage that forever victimizes the one harmed, never forgivable, never understandable as an action taken within a broader context of a character's circumstances, and never capable of being grown past" which is just ridiculous to me on multiple levels. we're talking about a high school bully saying rude things to another teenager, not about someone murdering someone else's dog or something like that. it's teen movie stuff. honestly the discussion is slightly embarrassing.

[redlyriumidol]

I'll be real I have very little intention of playing veilguard atp haha. I'll probably watch someone play through it on youtube and maybe pick it up eventually when it's cheaper. I have been watching a few random bits though, specifically Dorian and Isabela's appearances. The ache in my heart hearing the voice of my beloved Isabela but also girl... the writing.... the dialogue..... I know I need to properly judge for myself at some point in order to be objective, and I'm sure some parts/characters are better than others. I'm sure there are good things about the game don't get me wrong.

But I just have a feeling it would be a pretty big letdown, as someone who has always really really admired and been heavily influenced by the quality of the character writing in dragon age. I almost prefer... not to know, you know? Like if I never play it dragon age can still be good in my mind haha

[feralghxuls]

GUH im in my fucking alpha feelings. if u cant tell

guy who used to be the star of the show. him and omega were The Ghouls for so long. bringing home the bacon. the ghouls everyone looked up to. they were the prom kings. and now omega is a recluse and alpha is a bitter, angry old man (until swiss gets to him anyway. he looked at the most angry fucked up guy and went I Can Fix Him. and everyone around him was like Please Don't. and swiss went. I'm Gonna Fix Him.)

anyways. alpha wasnt always so angry. he didnt always react to everything with aggression, it's just that over time, there was too much change and he didnt know how to deal with it. and in his relationship with omega he first was afraid that omega would leave him, and then became obsessed with the idea. he became possessive and the fear always came out of his mouth as violence.

and then the clergy replaced him. and omega DID leave him. and he was alone and his broken heart grew thorns to protect himself. if he lashes out at anyone who approaches him, he won't ever have the opportunity to get hurt again.

[lovevalley45]

my hot take abt the season eight of legends that never was is that. season seven took what made season one a great story and tailored it to fit more with the later season’s vision for the show. like it was a real return to form in a positive way. and i think that s8 could have been the same if they held on with the time cops iii: fixers attack BUT then they had to also introduce a pregnancy plot

[wackywatchdotcom]

really like pomni. great character who i enjoy seeing drawing and contemplating the existence of. want to scrub thru every second of her screen time and study her like a bug cus shes cool and fascinating and i like her a normal amnt

[voidimp]

honestly as someone who never really got into lotr but independently also came up with the idea that the most sensible way to handwave everyone in a fictional setting speaking english & using terms that would have no reason to have originated in that setting is to just pretend its all a translation/localization of whatever language theyre actually speaking, it was such a relief to learn that tolkien also did that. like oh ok so im not crazy for wanting to do it that way. or like, maybe i am, but at least in the same way that a wildly successful fantasy author was, so i think im good

[eyepatchdate]

i can't believe i never posted any of my snk fic. like. i have MULTIPLE NOTEBOOKS of handwritten stuff, and a LOT on my phone but like. i was into snk when i didn't have access to a computer. so almost none of this is typed and so thus also none of it was ever posted.

[amelikos]

A few things about the PR highlights for HZ054 (link). Seems like Friede used to work at Exceed in the past (which is probably related to the Explorers, which would be ironic since Friede opposes them now). Maybe the research he did inadvertly ended up helping Gibeon for his goals? I wonder if he quit because he realized some things were sketchy (if they actually were), or if he really was just bored of it all (also, something about the potential of Friede and Spinel who could have become workplace colleagues had Friede remained there, and if the assumption that Spinel currently works there is true).

PR also highlighted Gibeon (which probably means he is making an appearance in the ep) and the fact he knows Lucius, so maybe we'll get something about them too (something, Lucius and Gibeon's divorce, etc).

The episode will be written by Kureha Matsuzawa, so that's something to look forward to (he wrote Friede's backstory in HZ018 among other things, so I'm glad he is handling the screenplay tomorrow!).

[jupiterjunebug]

For the WIP game: Thinly veiled excuse to replay dishonored?

I will fully admit, this is my uh. Pretty much fucking empty document. It spawned from a friend's first reaction to Akira being "that's a little tumbleboy! If he were born a hundred years ago he'd be in the circus!"

My exact thought process was Victorian circus Catch 2/2 slash UE, then realizing that if I have to familiarize myself enough with the entire Nooj roster to feel comfortable writing what will surely end up an ensemble fic I will NOT have the time to research actual Victorian circuses enough to feel comfortable with THAT. So I decided to make it Steampunk so my history could be bad without my hypercritical brain trying to kill me. And then I realized that loosely steampunk with a magic twist is two skips away from me just writing a Dishonored inspired universe.

Fun secret that is not a secret, Dishonored is one of the few video games that I actually get the urge to replay semi regularly. Definitely in my top 10 and one of the most defensible picks in there.

[skrunksthatwunk]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Majima Goro & Sagawa Tsukasa Characters: Majima Goro, Sagawa Tsukasa Additional Tags: Genderfluid Majima Goro, Mentioned Saejima Taiga, he's not here though, majima gets dress coded (devastating), Solitary Confinement, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, yeah this one's not pretty sorry guys, Homophobia, Mental Breakdown, thinking about sagawa's sparrow thinking about sagawa's sparrow thinking about sagawa's sparrow th, featuring an oc: majima's shitty unnamed landlord, Abuse, look i don't know how to classify it in particular but it's. Not Good. You Know How It Is With Them, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, in a very traditional sense like. the warnings are no joke, Hurt/Comfort, In The Worst Way Possible, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, ooh yeah forgot those tags exist. need those for sure, THE PLOT CAN ALSO BE DESCRIBED AS FIVE NIGHTS AT MAJIMA'S PLUS BONUS NIGHTS, also majima accidentally almost gives himself a gay earring situation, which. in hindsight is not explained well, basically around that time gay men used to wear an earring on their right ear, to signal that they were gay. majima's is on his left he's just scared, and sagawa is either messing with him or an old fart who doesn't know hip gay things, take your pick, Relationship Study, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:

"Woaahh, hold up there, Tiger. What's going on here?" Sagawa said. "What?" Sagawa reached for his face. Majima tensed up as Sagawa's hand brushed the taut cord of his eyepatch. He couldn't tell what he was doing until his hot, sweaty fingers pinched his earlobe. "You pierce this yourself?" "Yeah." "God, it looks awful."

or, in short, majima gets dress coded and sent to gay baby jail

HEY I UH. I MADE A FIC IF YOU GUYS WANNA READ IT. NO PRESSURE OBVIOUSLY

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

Immovable object (my chronic fatigue) vs unstoppable force (my desire to do literally anything other than lie in bed)