#PERHAPS INTENDED FOR SHARING WITH SOMEONE UNKNOWN

[ibvix]

AH ... THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS KIND AND THOUGHTFUL CARING WORDS DURING A WEE TRYING BIT !!!

AND, YOU ARE BOTH APPRECIATED AND YOU ARE PURE IN YOUR TRUTH AND YOU ARE FILLED LIGHT AND YOU ARE INHERENTLY EMPATHETIC ...

AGAIN ... THANK YOU FOR YOUR EXTRAORDINARY LIFETIME OF GENIUS ART AND CREATIVE EXPRESSION ... UPON SETTING FIRST EYES UPON A PIECE OF YOURS MANY YEARS PASSED, TO THIS MOMENT WHEN MY EYES TOUCHED YOUR EXTRAORDINARY BRILLIANCE, SO VERY DEEPLY HAD I FALLEN IN LOVE WITH YOUR GENIUS MIND YOUR TRUTH AND I MUST ADMIT TO YOU THAT THE LOVE AND EMOTIONAL RESPONSES EVOKED WITHIN ME DURING THIS LATEST VIEWING, OPTIONALLY AND WITH NO RERET, THE CORE OF MY SOUL HAS BUT IMPLODED WITH THE MOST HOLY AND JOYUS FEELINGS THAT TRUE AND PURE AND INNOCENT DIVINE LOVE HEALS, PURRS AND TRULY LOVES YOU WITHOUT CONDITION

[croquis-el]

Let's talk about how similar Naruhodō and Mitsurugi are in terms of morality and high responsibility in relation to their work.

And how determined they are to put themselves at risk, knowing full well that it could end badly for themselves.

I will talk about how they both share the same moral principles and how they do not allow others to lead them astray from their intended goal.

So, illegal evidence

Now you may be thinking - what the hell, this has nothing to do with the topic

And I will say that everything is just the opposite

I will discuss the use of fake evidence, its creation and responsibility for it, backed up with evidence

Let's start, as they say, from the beginning and pose the following question:

Does Naruhodō believe that Mitsurugi made shady deals, and will he protect him from these rumors?

In the first game of Trilogy, we are introduced to Naruhodō, shocked that his righteous friend is surrounded by rumors of evidence tampering, and how he desperately tries to understand whether it is true (he does not deny the fact of the shady dealings, does not vehemently defend Mitsurugi, saying “no, he couldn’t do that” and is fully aware that this could really happen).

And at first everything seems open and understandable - yes, perhaps it was so, and now Naruhodō's anger about this is clear to us

But then 1-5 happens, which closes a huge plot hole and gives answers to many questions. Mitsurugi has never falsified evidence in his life, which he honestly states to Naruhodō and which is later confirmed in court (he was caught colluding with witnesses and hiding evidence, but not falsifying it).

Now let's get back to Naruhodō and his attitude towards this. Having learned that Mitsurugi did not fabricate evidence on his own (other people above him in position did this), Naruhodō does not rush to defend him, saying “This is a forgery,” but literally says the following: “So it's true. Even though he may not have known it... He really was involved in falsifying evidence” .

In response to the above question: Naruhodō believes that a lawyer is responsible for the validity of evidence in the courtroom, regardless of who provided it to him previously, and will not even try to deny this.

And he’s not the only one who holds this opinion.

Mitsurugi himself also believes that "The police department's error is my error. I am a prosecutor, and I am responsible for it."

Considering Mitsurugi's resignation letter, Akane Hozuki (Ema Skye) doesn't understand why such serious measures need to be taken, even when such serious accusations have surfaced, but without decisive action on the part of superiors. Naruhodou answers her with the following: “Someone has to held responsible. That's how it is in the grown-up world.”

Naruhodō understands Mitsurugi's emotional state and accepts his willingness to resign from the prosecutor's office, knowing that this is not happening in a vacuum. If you used fabricated evidence (not even by yourself) - bear responsibility for your recklessness.

When Naruhodō used the fabricated page from the diary, he understood that no arguments would be heard by the court and took full responsibility for providing the fake evidence (but not for fabricating it). Naruhodou acted according to his own words from 1-4 and 1-5 - he doubted the legality of this evidence, but still used it and took the weight of the punishment upon himself.

We don't know how he felt or what he was thinking in the days after his license was revoked (except he felt "lost" and because someone is too good at hiding his emotions), but even in the thick of the situation, he remained collected and calm, and two weeks later he began investigation to find the person who framed him.

And now to the main thing.

Both Mitsurugi (in the SL-9 case and possibly other unknowns) and Naruhodō (the falsified diary page) unknowingly (but not freed from doubt) used false evidence provided to them by other people

And both blamed themselves for their inattention, recklessness, naivety.

And now a new question - was it that they voluntarily used obviously illegal evidence?

Yes

Mitsurugi, being an acting prosecutor, deliberately used 10-year-old evidence in the investigation, for which, according to the law, it was impossible to prosecute the guilty party. He was well aware that he was taking a big risk and that the balance was between “truth and illegal evidence” and “justice and the loss of truth,” but he still took the opportunity to bring to justice someone who was above the law.

Naruhodō deliberately fabricated evidence as a suspect in the Trump Turnabout case and a disbarred former lawyer. And he didn’t even deny it while in the courtroom. Naruhodō did not claim that the bloody ace was real. He only pointed out the possibility of why this card had to be taken from the crime scene. He used a trick! And he also did it in order to trap the criminal who framed him (more than once). And we know that Naruhodō doesn't forgive two offenses - betrayal and poisoning. He wouldn't have tolerated such an attitude towards himself after the case in which he found himself involved in his 3rd year at university.

Naruhodō would never take another person's guilt after that incident (neither in case 1-2 about the murder of a mentor, nor here in 4-1). Therefore, he could not afford to be convicted and led the trial as an eminence grise. He had to go over heads to get rid of false accusations and he wisely used his knowledge of the law, strictly controlled his testimony, smoothly leading the court to the correct decision, gave his lawyer only the information that was relevant to the case, preventing unnecessary facts from slipping off the tongue .

Now let's move on to the most controversial issue: would Mitsurugi condemn Naruhodō for fabricating a bloody ace? (to prove his own innocence)?

I think not

Mitsurugi in AAI 2 talked about the flexibility of the law, that only a person sets the limits of his own capabilities, that the law grows and develops as a living being, as a person. If the law tries to hide the truth, then it is mistaken.

The truth is Naruhodō's innocence.

If you listen to the law, then the defendants turned out to be the innocent party.

If you push the rigid boundaries, it becomes possible to find the true criminal.

Officially, we don't know what happened in those missing scenes, but I believe that Naruhodō wouldn't have received an ounce of judgment from his best friend, and given the circumstances, he could even help from the shadows (just remember AAI, where he is still at the investigation stage proved the innocence of his friends and colleagues - it is enough that he unconditionally believed Yahari (Larry), Mikumo (Key), detective Gumshoe (detective Itonoko), so Naruhodō cannot be an exception, but more about their mutual trust later). Didn't it seem strange to you that the judge calmly agreed to Naruhodō's request for an additional search of the crime scene, and allowed him to practically carry out his defense on his own, guiding his lawyer in the right direction? Here's a new rhetorical question.

Also with the presentation of the fabricated page - Mitsurugi expresses out loud that he regrets that he wasn't able to help Naruhodō earlier (he probably tried), to which Naruhodō replies that there is no need to blame himself and that it was solely his decision to give up badge, admit the charges and his future without a lawyer's license. Naruhodō believed that he did not deserve pity specifically in this matter, but Mitsurugi proved him the opposite - everyone gets what they deserve, but what Naruhodō deserved was the return of his license and the reliable shoulder of a friend and ally, who strives to do only the best for his friends (and not set them up by trying to ruin their lives because of your own pride).

As the result: both Mitsurugi and Naruhodō strive for the development and evolution of the law, for change the judicial system, for search for truth and justice using all methods available to them. And they are ready to bear responsibility for the course of the trial, for the evidence they provide, for their own words, even if their actions don't meet the standards of the laws adopted in their realities and will lead to terrible consequences for themselves.

P.S. please remember that this happens in their realities, which do not pretend to be reality. Comparing our world and law and their world and law is wrong.

[acapelladitty]

could i request m!reader teaching maximus how to pleasure himself or even teaching him to to pleasure lucy? a first time between them. it doesn’t have to be strictly soft and sweet either. perhaps some teasing, premature ejaculation on maximus’ part. thank you for your time 😊💚

lessons in lust

Pairing: Maximus/M!Reader

Summary: Sick of being so inexperienced around sex, Maximus asks for help and you offer to show him the ropes (pun intended).

Fic Masterlist

In the week since Maximus had strolled into the bathroom you were hiding out in to enjoy a little private time, you had found his eyes burning into the back of your skull on multiple occasions - his face holding back a question he was desperate to ask.

Eventually you had given in.

What?

His answer had surprised you as much as it excited you.

Can you show me how you did that?

And so you found yourself sharing a cot with him, both sitting on opposite ends as something electric and unknown hung in the air.

In nothing but off-white underwear and an even dingier vest, the cloth more grey than anything, Maximus' face was oddly intense - the same intensity it no doubt held when the Brotherhood had him sit through their many lessons - and it was oddly endearing.

"Relax, Max." Sweeping your hands in front of you in a calming gesture, you hold his eye as you gently cup your cock through the fabric of your underwear. "Now, just watch and I'll talk you through what to do."

Pulling yourself free without shame, the way that Maximus' eyes widen fractionally as he takes in your brazen arousal sends a voyeuristic thrill down your spine. Cock in hand, you trail your fingers along your shaft as you tease the skin. Heat creeps across your neck with every stroke and you inhale deeply as you tilt closer to Maximus' position so he can see you as freely as possible.

"Some guys like a strong grip and some like it to be a bit softer. What matters is the friction and how good it feels as your hand glides across the skin."

"Uh huh." Swallowing, Maximus shifts uncomfortably and your eyes flick to the tent in his underwear which he seems determined to hide. "And what about the-" He gestures lower with his fingers, indicating your balls as they hang within their sac.

"Oh, the balls. Well, uh, it feels nice to play with them as you jerk off but they can be sensitive if you get a bit too rough."

"Okay. So not too hard."

Adding that to his mental list, Maximus leaned in closer as he ran a hand across his forehead - the fingers coming away damp with sweat.

"What about women? How do they-" Maximum lets the question trail off, his gaze slightly clouded by some distant thought. He had someone in mind, obviously, but the question catches you off-guard regardless, not expecting him to ask such a thing.

"Women have their own nice spots," you explain patiently as your hand continues to stroke along your cock with a practised ease, "and there's one near the top of their sex parts that feels even better than this apparently."

News to Maximus, his attention split between your cock and your face, he nodded sagely as though understanding what you were saying.

"So, if I find it then I pull it like that? Like you're doing?"

"Oh hell, no. Don't do that." Thinking of the few women you'd been with, you wince on their behalf as you continue to stroke along your cock. "It's too small anyway so you're supposed to touch it more gently."

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah. All right, now I need you to pull yourself out for me." Feeling your balls tighten and your legs tense, you can sense your release approaching and you let go of your cock to stave it off for the moment and draw out the pleasure. "I can already see that you're feeling excited to show off."

Maximus does as told, a shy glance all he offers before his hands dip beneath the band of his underwear to release himself - his cock visibly straining and tenting against the fabric.

Pulling his cock free, the sight of him makes your own length twitch in hand. Different to your own, his cock is slightly larger in both length and girth and a stunning deep colour which looks both velvety and soft as it stands to attention. The tip of his cock is visibly wet, pre-cum leaking from his slit as the excitement of a free show and the pleasure to come has him ready to go.

Your own cock slick with pre-cum you match his movements as he strokes his hand along his cock, mutually masturbating while allowing him to set the pace.

Maximus pauses as his hand rolls over the engorged head of his cock, his spine stiffening as the sensitive nerves there overwhelm him for a moment. He seems to like it though as his lips form into a slight 'o' shape and he repeats the feat, his teeth coming into play as they bite at his bottom lip.

Having no concept of moderation, Maximus chases his pleasure with abandon - his hand moving quickly and messily across his length as he used the pre-cum as a makeshift lube for his hand. It's a show which makes your lose focus on yourself, your attention gripped by how easily he wears his pleasure on his handsome features.

Before too long, his sexual inexperience showing in how quickly he reaches his peak, Maximus' breathy grunts dissolve into a sharp moan and he comes all over himself; his release arcing in thin ropes across his hand and cock as he gazes down at himself with open interest. His brow is furrowed and you smile at how tense his features seem until the satisfaction of his release smooths him out.

"And it explodes every time?" Maximus asks shakily.

"Every time." Painfully hard now and aching for your own release, you continue to edge yourself as you answer his honest questions. "It's salty too. You can taste it, it won't do anything bad."

Experimentally, Maximus brings his fingers to his lips and tastes his own release with a heated expression, one laced with curiosity. It's a flavour which he reviews with a shrug.

"It's," he pauses, "different."

Suddenly struck by just how weird and intense and so fucking hot this whole scenario is, you match his dopey grin with one of your own as you roll your thumb across your cockhead and settle into your own arousal.

"Yeah. It's definitely different."

[salllzy]

The consort #3

Looking at him again, hurt and in more ways than one. The way that he leaned against the bar sent a thrill down their spines. They knew that hidden under the jacket was a small fluffy black and red tail, it was hard to look at him, to know that their relationship with him had failed. Neither of them when he had started looking at others or rather that had been what they had initially thought, they knew that truth now. It had never been another lover, it had been his daughter that he had been visiting. Thousands of questions raced through their minds, why he had never told them? Didn't he trust them? Had he ever intended to tell them? At first, they hadn't thought much of it, they knew that he was an Overlord and that he had a job to do. But there were times when he had stayed out a bit too long, so in the end they had asked someone to look into what he was doing. Perhaps they had been overly paranoid, but neither of them couldn't shake the feeling of being lied to. Then they saw the photos, Alastor hugging some unknown doe demon, kissing her on the cheek. Going on walks with her. At the time the evidence had seemed so concrete, that Alastor had been cheating on them, that he had no intention of committing to the relationship with them. It had been a painful but necessary thing, to remove Alastor from their lives and their home. Neither of them had wanted to listen to the lies and excuses that he would no doubt come up with. But hindsight as they say is twenty-twenty. Perhaps if they had let him explain then they wouldn't be in the situation that they were now, the way that Charlie was looking at the deer demons with envy in her eyes as Alastor hugged his daughter. Everyone was aware of the five-foot rule that Alastor had, no one was allowed to touch him. Not any more. Over the last couple of days Lilith had tried to get close to him, but it hadn't worked. He had kept a polite distance and always seemed to be busy whenever she tried to speak to him. Lucifer had gotten mostly the same results. Lucifer had tried to approach Alastor's daughter, he had thought that perhaps she would be a better way to get Alastor to talk to them. It hadn't worked. She had been all polite smiles and veiled threats, threats that Lucifer knew she would go through with. Not that they would do much damage to him, but if someone else was to get caught in the crossfire? Then it wouldn't look good for them. She was vicious, devious, cunning and unfarid to get her hands dirty. She was doing everything in her power to make sure that neither he nor Lilith were able to get anywhere near Alastor. If she wasn't using such methods against them? Lucifer would be proud, but as it stood, she was an obstacle and one that wasn't moving. Lucifer knew that she wouldn't budge, not unless Alastor asked her to do so. But they couldn't get close to Alastor to speak to him. They had fucked up they knew that, but neither he or Lilith had ever stopped loving Alastor. As much as it pained him to admit? It was the truth. They needed to talk to Alastor, to set things right. Perhaps he would never give them another chance, perhaps he had washed his hands of them completely. But this open festering wound that they all had? It needed to be addressed.

He and Lilith had wronged Alastor, they knew that now and while they couldn't take away the pain that they had caused Alastor, they could admit that they were wrong. Lucifer loved Alastor and he knew that he always would, that the relationship that the three of them had once shared had been one of the most wonderful things that he had experienced. Through their own folly and actions, he had lost that, they both had lost it. They had tossed away one of the good things that they had found, and for what? Baseless rumours and photos that hadn't given the full picture.

[canmom]

what's the book for? part 2

[here's an intro where I talk about the three hour video essay that inspired me to do this]

[here's the first part where I argue that there's a big difference between the actual thing you do in an RPG and the book that tells you how you're allegedly supposed to be doing it]

So if the actual TTRPG games are mostly learned by observation and practice, what is the something that RPG books claim to give you in order to enable that?

Here's three things I can think of.

This isn't intended as a Forge-like categorisation of games, most RPG books offer (or claim to offer) all of these to some degree, ideally in complementary ways...

A ruling reference - RPG book as legal system

In the intro to a typical mainstream RPG book, this is typically the explanation that is given.

Over the course of a telling a story together, all sorts of weird edge cases come up where you might not want to simply make a call on how it should resolve. Moreover, consistency is valued, for both challenge and narrative reasons.

In this case, the RPG book is a big collection of rulings for specific situations. 'What happens when a character falls off a cliff?' You can look it up. It's like legal precedents. This is how a lot of the stuff in the early D&D books started - stuff that someone had done, and a referee had made a ruling, and it got written down. Then it would get systematised, unified, and streamlined so that it's easier to remember and extend to new situations.

A lighter game avoids special cases and just suggests a general procedure for resolving situations of uncertainty, conflicts etc.

This angle doesn't tend to cover procedures for how the game is physically run - how to go about setting up the scenario, who should get priority when speaking, etc. etc. - beyond perhaps offering prebuilt modules to inspire you. In older games, most of that is stuff you pick up by watching. In newer games... well, hold on.

A grab bag of interesting prompts - RPG book as inspiration in the moment

Most RPG books have flavour text; many also have tables of weird shit you can roll on or select when building a character, character sheets full of interesting abilities, descriptions of NPCs and so on. A select few RPGs like Unknown Armies and Chuubo's Marvellous Wish-Granting Engine have really distinctive prose too.

The aim of all these tools is to give you something to latch onto when you're in the moment and you need to think of the next thing to say. It's also to get people onto some shared understanding of what this game is all about.

This is where the bulk of many RPG books lies. It's explicitly the aim of Apocalypse World's MC moves. Many one-page RPGs are nothing but lists of evocative names and description elements, and a short snatch of prose.

Prompt tables and lists of names are popular in just about every tradition of RPG design - trad, storygames, OSR, all use them. Sometimes they're the most memorable thing about an RPG, like Dark Heresy's crit tables.

Sometimes pages of tables is the RPG - in recent years, card-based games have become popular, using a regular deck of cards which indexes into a big table of events, each of which is like 'here's a short description. how do you respond?'. This type of game has a great deal in common with storylet-based interactive fiction like Fallen London.

Prompts don't have to be short, though. Arguably an adventure module can be pretty much this - something you consult when players arrive in a new place to get an idea of who they should meet for example.

In D&D, the Monster Manual is straight up a book of real freaky guys you can put in your game. It also has stat blocks for them, of course, but the descriptions and pictures do a lot of work here to make them concrete.

This is why I describe the pictures in Lancer as load-bearing. The pictures help - or are supposed to help - grease the wheels of imagination when you're trying to imagine mechs.

This function of RPGs is a large part of the angle you're playing if you tie the game to a particular genre, setting or IP.

A machine to guide you to a specific experience - RPG book as auteur blueprint

So here's the newer flavour.

RPGs can be one of the most feelings-dense forms of art that humans create - it's your story, with your characters. This is something that tends to arise organically after you spend a long time with a character and 'get into their head'.

However, there is often a desire on the designer's side to structure the game to bring about a particular kind of emotional experience more directly. From horror games to games self-consciously 'about' colonialism, abuse, romance, etc., these games try to give you a particular experience, similar to what a film or book gives you - or indeed, a computer game.

Here are some examples:

My Life With Master is an older Forge game. It's about the 'Igor' servant characters in a classic horror movie, billing itself as 'a roleplaying game of villainy, self-loathing, and unrequited love'. It presents you with an emotionally charged scenario and mechanics that try to push you towards specific drama - if you want to be critical, a firm instance of the incentives and buttons oriented design that Huntsman was talking about, sometimes quite explicitly saying 'this mechanic was designed to...'

Dog Eat Dog is a game 'a game of imperialism and assimilation on the Pacific islands', with the DM reimagined as a colonial power adding more and more restrictions and the players as native people who will inevitably break its rules, until they are eventually pushed to 'run amok' (fatally), or assimilate. It's a game whose entire argument is more or less spelled out in the book itself.

But games don't have to be this narrowly scoped to have this kind of aspiration. Something like Apocalypse World still wants to bring about certain kinds of interaction, laid out quite explicitly as 'agendas' for the MC and players. It is strongly 'opinionated', in programmer terms.

Even a very flexible game can take on this model. Fiasco is a very abstract structure, designed to set up a chaotic situation like in a Coen Brothers movie. Microscope is designed to give you a fractal zoom in and out of a fictional history. These games are almost all procedure; Fiasco has some fantastic prompt tables, and a clear way to cook up your own, but the bulk of it is the stuff it tells you to do with scenes and dice.

These could be seen as games on an auteur model, with many of the emotional beats of the scenario already rigged up in advance. You get this type of book to experience a good/meaningful story - with a certain amount of flexibility in the details that gets you more attached. If there is a GM/MC/etc. they have instructions to facilitate the expression of that story.

...well, I refer to it as an auteur model. Thankfully not everyone is Ron Edwards! Apocalypse World has a whole chapter about how to modify the game to your taste, or build new games on its framework, and that - plus its conceptual simplicity - probably played a role in its hundreds of derivatives. 'Hacking' games was well established as a practice in the storygames milieu right from the early days. Probably the vast majority of games put out on itch.io are simply hacks of an established framework, very few offer real innovation.

Despite this, the offer of these products is still that they'll tell you how create a kind of verbal machine to realise some very specific thing.

Secret fourth thing...?

I can't think of others right now, but I hate presenting a list as exhaustive unless I can prove it's exhaustive. It's very likely there's some other function a book can claim to perform.

However, to summarise, you look at an RPG book to get:

a consistent set of rulings to handle situations of uncertainty

a set of prompts to help inspire your imagination when you need inspiration

a carefully designed procedure to lead you to a specific experience

The third thing is kind of a different beast to the other two, huh? You might be thinking that the first two are trad games and the third one is post-Forge 'story games', but it's really much older than that. Paranoia is a great early example; there are shades of it in many games published in the 80s and 90s. Not all these games are affiliated with the Forge and its diaspora either - take for example Jenna Moran's games and Bliss Stage.

Story games are not books either

The Forge and its diaspora led to a lot of games being printed, and launched the careers of many an 'indie TTRPG designer', which was not really a thing you could be in the same way before. It would be easy therefore to think this was the main contribution: we should assess it on the basis of the printed games that resulted.

However, nothing says you have to use a book to pilfer from their idea pool.

The really interesting contribution of the whole movement, to my eye, is that it calls our attention to a facet of TTRPGs that had often been left implicit. Who speaks, when? Who gets the 'narrative authority' to make the final call on what becomes 'true'? How do you organise time - do you frame scenes, use flashbacks, cut between different characters? What makes a dice roll exciting? How do you work out what would engage the other players, and communicate your own interests? Are you trying to help your character win, or are you more like a writer who might choose to make them suffer? How do you make a compelling character arc? What can be changed around behind the scenes to make a better story?

These are all aspects of 'play', the thing that you do at the table. Any given TTRPG group will settle on its own implicit or explicit approach to this kind of thing.

Different RPG books will tell you to do this or that. Some games will tell you to set stakes, or make failure interesting, or make choices that act as 'flags' to show what you're looking for.

But these tools are not tied to any specific game. You don't need the 'permission' of a book, nor can a book stop you doing it. A book may lay out a procedure that makes it easier, may introduce you to an idea that you haven't heard before, but once you have the idea, you can play with it however you like.

The way I approach a trad game like D&D, from either side of the DM screen, has become very different after my sojourn into the world of story games. A lot of what I liked there, I kept doing. Other inspiration comes from outside of the 'hobby' entirely, in related milieu like improv comedy.

This is something the OSR milieu seems to understand quite well. Everything is expected to be mixed, matched, and interpreted by the needs of your group. Posts will be framed as mere advice, which can be picked up and applied regardless of context.

But that all depends on a certain amount of common ground as to 'what the game is'. There is an authoritative DM who runs the scenario. The emphasis of the game is probably on exploring some kind of ruin and surviving in a dark, decaying fantasy world populated by various factions at odds with each other. Players control flimsy characters whose survival is not guaranteed, but if they live long enough, they can become major powers. There is a heavy strategic aspect: you are trying to use your resources to survive and get something. This is the general shape of a 'prototypical OSR game'.

the shared context of storygames

Story games form their own subsubculture, but they do not have this level of shared context. Instead, a different kind of shared context is kind of implicit in the milieu.

Here's how things go at the London Indie RPG Meetup Group, which I've attended a couple of times: a group of nerds gather in a pub. People will pitch games with a couple of sentences; then people will form groups and play that game as a one-shot session. Someone will have a book, or printouts. Most players will not have heard of the game before.

In this kind of context, a lot of the quirks of story games make sense. 'Read this out' paragraphs, rapid character creation based on selecting prompts, simple mechanics designed to push you into drama as quickly as possible: all of this stuff is perfect for a one-shot game you play once or a few times. This type of game is not really trying to 'take on' trad games.

But then there's the 'middle ground' kind of game, which are closer to a 'trad' game - a game master, persistent characters each controlled by one player, multiple sessions, progression - but also instruct you to do something more experimental by trad-game standards. This includes Apocalypse World and its derivatives, Blades in the Dark and its derivatives, the Burning Wheel/Mouse Guard lineage, Jenna Moran's games... and so on.

It's this point of overlap where things get sticky and it all becomes a bit tense. Since, well, story game fans can be quite evangelistic - and part of that evangelism depends on a dismissively book-determinist view of trad TTRPGs. But conversely, trad players can be quite reluctant to imagine there is any other way of approaching this whole activity, and dismissive of any other approach. I do not like it, Sam-I-am.

So you end up with a situation of camps, with both groups bristling at the sense that they should be compelled to give up the thing they like to do it the way they consider inferior.

And if you want to criticise the other camp, what do you do? Pick up their book and criticise it as a product, according to your sense of what a TTRPG book is for. Which seems hopelessly besides the point when a book is such a small part of the story.

I've played trad games, story games, OSR games, 'freeform' forum games, LARP, MMO roleplaying, improv comedy... Not as much as I'd like of anything, but enough to get a sense of the many ways we can do this 'roleplaying' thing, whether by explicit rule or implicit convention.

So the puzzle I now have is, if there is to be a book involved, what is that book there to do? What really makes for a good RPG book? Are there other ways to get that thing? How do you game design honestly?

We'll try to address that in part 3 of this series, coming... sometime soon, hopefully!

[cefalodankovsky]

Kaeya's story would have a pretty big plothole if he's telling the truth (Or in other words why Kaeya is probably lying his ass off) An analysis.

Major spoilers for caribert and Kaeya's character story.

Addendum : This is mostly for fun and to explore Kaeya's character and interactions, I'm not God, I can be wrong about things.

Important things are marked in orange and specific commentary on some elements of text is marked in purple.

Also while I do believe Kaeya is lying in Caribert and is generally an unreliable narrator, if you believe otherwise and can still make sense of his story please tell me, I would like to know other points of view or things I might have missed.

It is first said in Kaeya's vision story, he fought with diluc the day his father died. The reason why is quite simple, he told Diluc he was an agent (or pawn, depending on the nuance of the translation) planted by Khaenri'ah to serve their interests (and by the wording of the text, he had an idea of what the "ancient plot" meant). He comes clean and then fights Diluc as "his true self".

There was a side to Kaeya that he kept hidden from the world: In truth, he was an agent of Khaenri'ah, placed in Mondstadt to serve their interests. His father had abandoned him in this strange and unknown land to fulfill this mission, and it was Master Crepus and the city of Mondstadt that had welcomed him with open arms when they found him.

If Khaenri'ah and Mondstadt went to war, which side should he support? To whom should he offer his assistance: his birth father, who had ruthlessly abandoned him? Or his adoptive father, who had loved him and raised him?-

Quite a dramatic thought, makes it sound as if his mission will inevitably end in a war between the both of them, partly backed by Mona's voiceline

As a brother, he should have shared in Diluc's grief, and yet as their father lay dying on the ground, he had hung back behind his brother, that ancient plot running through his mind.

The use of that ancient plot instead of the ancient plot, or an ancient plot. makes it sound as if there are multiple ancient plots he is aware about, perhaps not the actual intended meaning but it's a fun thought, like how many ancient plots is Khaenri'ah directly involved in??? (probably a lot)

Consumed by guilt, Kaeya knocked on Diluc's door. As the rain poured down, the shroud of secrecy was washed away and all lies were revealed. Kaeya had finally come clean.

This is all fine and makes sense, Diluc feels betrayed and out of anger and residual sadness from his father's death, and strikes against someone he considered a brother, this causes a big rift between them and is a focal point in their relationship. Let's see how this character story is contradicted by the Caribert story quest, probably on purpose.

In Caribert Kaeya claims his father sent him to mondstadt to perhaps find happiness.

Kaeya: My life had less and less to do with Khaenri'ah as I grew up, and so I started caring less as well.

Kaeya: I used to believe that I had inherited some sort of duty from my father..

Kaeya: But then I began to wonder... Maybe my father left me in the peaceful land of Mondstadt for no other reason than simply to give me a happier life...

Then he didn't ruthlessly abandon him or send him to mondstadt to fulfill Khaenri'ah's goals, which contradicts everything previously established.

Kaeya: A happy life sounds good to me, of course. Even if it means being cut off from... certain things.

He sounds unsure, it's unclear If he wants to be cut off or not from those certain things, but what is he talking about?, If he doesn't know about the Alberich's involvement in the abyss order then what is he being cut off of according to him?.

It is implied Kaeya is just sugar-coating things, partly out of denial, partly out of a need to not reveal all his cards to the traveller, so I'm not going too in-depth with this section individually, as I believe it to be a clear cut lie in story.

And then the conversation with Dainsleif happens, and things get even messier.

Dainsleif: Tell me... what do you know about the significance of that name, "Alberich"?

Kaeya: Ah, you've decided to join us? I was wondering how long you planned on listening in. I believe I've seen you before in Mondstadt... Dainsleif, if I'm not mistaken?

Nice deflection buddy, almost as if he knows that If Dainsleif continues with that line of thought then some uncomfortable things will be revealed

Dainsleif: So you remember me (was he in Mondstadt to stalk Kaeya?). Then we are already acquainted, Kaeya Alberich... descendant of the Abyss Order's founder.

This means two things, first while the abyss is older than Khaenri'ah, the abyss order is a direct product of it, the sinners that are all that's left of Khaenri'ah according to Kaeya?

Kaeya: ...

Traveller: The Abyss Order...?

Paimon: What!?

Dainsleif: I take it that you weren't aware of this until now, Kaeya, or you wouldn't have been so forthcoming with your surname.

This is the part that always fucks me up, it makes a point for Kaeya being unaware of the implications of his surname, but also if Kaeya is telling the truth about not knowing anything about his father's motivation or goals for leaving him in Mondstadt, then what is his character story talking about, what the hell did he tell Diluc.

Do the character stories have information the character in story doesn't?, who's narrating the stories then?, Are they impartial?, are those kaeya's thoughts about his father's motivation?, Because that also contradicts what he says in Caribert. Or did he think his father was just working for Khaenri'ah which in his mind was a completely different thing from the Abyss order???, Then why did he have suspicious information explicitly from the abyss order like the title of the leader?, Which no other character apart from Dainsleif has (who would obviously know that)

I generally just take this as Dainsleif taunting Kaeya and trying to make him fall into a trap, because it makes the most sense.

Kaeya: Oh, my... that's quite a lot of baggage for a surname, isn't it? Though I must say, it does confirm an old suspicion of mine. I suppose that was why my father left me in Mondstadt after all... (How does that confirm anything, How does it improve your understanding of the ancient plot your father sent you to fulfill, in text it is said he was aware of the mission and was an agent or pawn, you already knew why your father left you)

Dainsleif: I'm surprised that you take me at my word without the faintest hint of skepticism... (Aka why are you lying you obviously knew this)

Kaeya: Well, perhaps what you told me just happens to answer some questions I carry in my memories. And, in any case... I recognize your eyes...(nice change of topic)

Okay the nicest interpretation I can give is maybe he knew his father was part of the abyss order but not that he was the descendant of the creator of the abyss order, but then what is the ancient plot he was sent to complete and why him?

Kaeya: You're a pure-blood Khaenri'ahn, aren't you?

I'm not even going to get into the, is Kaeya a full blooded Khaenriahn? thing or not because frankly I lack the information of the traits of a full blooded Khaenriahn. And in the best case scenario it just gives extra information on his mission.

Dainsleif: Very clever. (Thanks Dainsleif for actually being concise, even if you are most definitely hiding shit as well) Forgive me for being direct, but I sincerely hope this new knowledge doesn't change anything. If you've already let go of your ties to the past... then keep it that way.

This is just a barely hidden threat, if it's a don't get involved threat or keeping up the charade and clearly stating you are against the abyss order threat, is left up to interpretation

Paimon: Kaeya... You're not involved with the Abyss Order in any way, are you...?

Kaeya: Hey, hold on now. This conversation has taken a rather sudden turn for the deadly serious... and I'm afraid that as someone from Mondstadt, I'm not accustomed to this sort of atmosphere...

Deflection again, and identifies himself as someone from Mondstadt which in this conversation is also a double way of saying, I'm not a threat.

Kaeya: So what if I know my ancestry? Do I strike you as the type who would be bound by that kind of thing?

He changes his position again, "well even If I knew I wouldn't do anything for the Abyss order", which is weird because even by the kindest of interpretations he is terribly conflicted (Mona's voiceline, His character story, the fact this conversation is taking place to begin with)

Kaeya: Relax. I'll be just as delighted to hunt down the Abyss Order tomorrow as I have always been.

And how delighted are you, really?, And does this really make no change to you, almost as if you already took this into account?.

Traveler option 1: I trust you, Kaeya.

Traveler option 2:I think... I guess.

The real problem with the Idea that Kaeya is fully genuine about having no connections to Khaenri'ah or knowing about the Abyss order is that apart of all his info from his character story being wrong or unexplainable apart from the excuse of, well he had absolutely 0 context about anything , which would be strange especially for a character as Kaeya known for always having the upper hand info-wise. But that his fight with Diluc would make no sense. What did he tell Diluc?, That he was from Khaenri'ah and his father left him in Mondstadt to try to maybe make sure his son has a happy life far from the stress of Khaenri'ah (Stress like a mission or an ancient plot)?, How would that be a betrayal of any type, and how would that revelation show a hidden part of his true self?. If Kaeya knows nothing about this, then the emotional core of his story is ruined, because he would have never been conflicted when Crepus died, He would have no reason to be loyal to Khaenri'ah or the abyss order apart from his father being from Khaenri'ah, a father which abandoned him ruthlessly (or maybe not, who knows), The sinner's are all that's left of Khaenri'ah voiceline would just be meanspirited for no reason (because if those sinners were working for the abyss order, then it would make sense that he were critical of them), and His fight with Diluc would make no sense.

So in accordance to this, I believe Kaeya is lying about not being aware of the implications of his surname and the reason he was sent to mondstadt.

Thanks for reading if you have made it this far, and correct me if I'm wrong about something.

[taeskooksbin]

I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE ; kth

→ 𝖲𝖴𝖬𝖬𝖠𝖱𝖸 . kim taehyung, your love interest has been cheating on you for so long and despite knowing it all, you're still somewhat not able to leave him, why?

→ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 . cheater!kim taehyung (male lead) × love interest!reader (female lead)

→ 𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖱𝖤 . cheating au.

→ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 . lowercase intended, heavy angst with shitty writing, the reader is kind of dumb, some filmy scenes that may give you the ick.

→ 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤 . to people who are reading this, can someone please give me a tut on how I add my masterlist to my account? lmao I'm so bad at this 😭

→ 𝖱𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦 . none

𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ 𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ 𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖸𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 𖤐 𓈒࣪  ᭡ ˖ 𝖯𝖨𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳

“You and me we made a vow

For better or for worse”

The memories, still fresh in my mind, the day we got married, room our vows to be wedded to each other our whole life with no uncertainty. I never knew we’d come to this point where the happily established relationship is at the verge of breaking off, I truly never did. But I suppose that's life, unexpected things?

“I can't believe you let me down

But the proof's in the way it hurts”

If it were a few months ago, I would've never believed, oh hell, who would've? we were so happy and content together then how? ‘you’re my only one’ ‘if I ever do something just slap me and remind me who was the one with me all along’ ‘i love you, forever and always’ I suppose they were just void words, nothing else.

“For months on end I've had my doubts

Denying every tear”

The memory is still as fresh as an undone bruise, in my mind. When he accidently left his phone at home and I found messages from an unknown woman, usually it would've been normal and I believe myself to be an understanding one.

However, you can't be really understanding if your husband gets a message somewhat like ‘thanks for the night, meet tomorrow again?’. I chuckled at my stupidity cause I still thought that it was a misunderstanding, every night slapping myself back to reality, whenever I’d cry over that.

“I wish this would be over now

But I know that I still need you here”

I don't want to live like this anymore, not anymore. But can I really leave him? No. All the happy moments we shared together flood back in my mind whenever I’d think of leaving him, concerned about difficulties and troubles he’d face.

But is it really him who needs me? Not at all, it’s the other way around. At this point I’m way too dependent on him to leave him, way too used to seeing his face, making breakfast, sleeping together, referring to myself as his wife.

“You say I'm crazy

'Cause you don't think I know what you've done”

He cupped my face, “You’re behaving really crazily these days, what is happening?” I can't feel the concern, it's the annoyance which is lacing off his voice, covered up as a facade of ‘concern’. “You really don't know?” I smiled with moisture building up in my eyes while he looked at me in confusion.

“But when you call me baby

I know I'm not the only one”

He frowned, “What are you talking about, baby?” I could hear myself chuckling bitterly internally, but I did not dare to do this infront of him, I shook my head lightly with a smile, “Nothing” I smiled, like always.

“You've been so unavailable

Now sadly I know why”

“I was calling you the whole day, why were you not picking up? what if it was something important?” I yelled, “I was busy” Busy sure, perhaps busy giving company to her? I could laugh at my misery at this point, however I'm way too exhausted to even do that, the after effects of crying myself to sleep every night I suppose?

“Your heart is unobtainable

Even though Lord knows you kept mine”

I smiled gleamingly as soon as he stepped foot in the house, running over to him and holding his wrist while dragging him to the kitchen, “What is happening?” He spoke with confusion and gasped at all the dishes in the house; however, as soon as he was about to speak, he got a call.

He excused himself and walked to the corner and then swiftly made another excuse and walked out of the house. What he didn't know was how I was following him, after hearing the faint ‘Happy Anniversary’ through the call.

“You say I'm crazy

'Cause you don't think I know what you've done”

I saw him walking inside a house, I knew who lived there and not wanting to hurt myself anymore, I walked to move out until I saw the two silhouettes, the guy keeping an arm around the girl’s waist and the girl wrapping her arms around his neck, they both swayed to the music elegantly and finally my tears made an appearance on my face, finally.

“But when you call me baby

I know I'm not the only one”

The way back home, it was getting hard not to earn judgmental stares from everyone. When I reached back home, I broke down after trying too hard to hold the sobs. Even choking on my own tears many times, I threw every picture of ours, shattering them all in pieces.

“I have loved you for many years

Maybe I am just not enough”

I walked to the kitchen and saw the pleasant dishes, all decorated with love and walked to the fridge, I opened and saw a homemade cake, ‘Happy Fifth Anniversary’ was written on the vanilla cake.

I smiled bitterly, my salty tears falling on it, ruining the whole taste and it was getting harder to breathe now, I kept the cake on the kitchen top and walked upstairs to find my inhaler.

“You've made me realise my deepest fear

By lying and tearing us up”

I opened every cupboard and then when I found none, I opened our cabinet which was locked, I opened it only to find my unused inhaler which was beside the divorce papers with his part already signed, and that was enough for me to break now.

“You say I'm crazy

'Cause you don't think I know what you've done”

Taehyung walked inside the house only to find the horrendous view, shattered pictures, the house all messy, blood drops all over the floor. He ran inside the kitchen only to find his wife sitting on the dining table with an emotionless face, she looked crazy to him.

“But when you call me baby

I know I'm not the only one”

I looked up only to find him standing with a shocked expression and smiled, walking towards him I held his hand, “What is all thi—” He started but I cut him off, “I hate you” I whispered, he frowned,

“What are you talking—” He started as his voice rose but I smiled and pulled him closer, the music was playing and soon enough the same song was playing while he and she were dancing.

I chuckled, finally he knows that I know. I forcefully made him reenact the same dance steps they did while I was watching, keeping his hand on my waist, I wrapped mine around his neck and started swaying while looking at him with a sad smile.

This was it, this is the end now. He walked to the living room and saw the divorce papers lying on the table with her sign, and soon enough she walked out of the room with a suitcase in her hand. He realised now, what role she played- fuck that, what huge role she played in his life. But would she stop to give him a chance now? Never.

# ask taehyung

# ask y/n

[themelongum]

Rehearsals with Eren

multi-chaptered rating: explicit main pairings: eren/reader; jean/reader AU: college; band

A dent to the left. A dark spot of unknown origin almost in the middle, not centered just enough to annoy a perfectionist. With my legs hung over the armrest of the old couch, I studied the ceiling of the Jaegers’ basement, giving myself a rest while the others experimented with the new tunes.

The red coating chipped off under my fingers. Not that I intended to ruin anyone’s couches, but the thing was already ramshackle, with the top layer hanging by a thin thread, begging to be detached. Anyway, this couch—and the basement itself—looked way out of place compared to the furniture upstairs, clearly indicating they didn’t care much about it.

“Are you done lazing around?” Eren’s voice cut through my train of thoughts, full of irritation.

Propping myself on the elbows, I turned to meet his frown with one of my own. “What? You were busy anyway.”

“What Eren wanted to say,” said Armin, glancing at his friend, “is that we’re done with the break. And if you’re ready, we can continue.”

“Yeah, sure.” I sent him a smile, springing to my feet and approaching the mic stand. “The same one?” I looked between the guys, and they all gave me a nod—well, almost all.

We had been rehearsing it for quite a while. And though this Arctic Monkeys’ song was among my favorites, singing “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” over and over again could easily make me hate it if we weren’t sprinkling some other songs in between. Yet, practice was essential, and besides, the vocals were quite uncomplicated, so I didn’t have much demur, especially since it did sound better with every new try.

From the moment Armin’s bass and Connie’s drums kicked in, I merged with the music, tapping my feet and bopping my head to the rhythm. Singing the lines with due confidence, I would lock eyes with Marco whenever he joined my voice. Sometimes my gaze would find Armin’s instead, and the same joyous smile would be shared between us.

Everything went fine. Until it didn’t. Caught up in the moment, I let my eyes land on something—or rather, someone—they weren’t supposed to land on. And on the most inappropriate line they did. And at the exact moment he was looking at me. On the inside, I was dying; on the outside, I finished the line, still holding Eren’s gaze.

It was after I averted my eyes, though, that the embarrassment really kicked in. Not that I had done anything embarrassing. Looking at my bandmates during the performance was only natural, wasn’t it? Yet there was some sort of implicit agreement that Eren and I were supposed to refrain from any expression of cordiality or camaraderie, and I was quickly reminded about it.

Occupied with those thoughts, I forgot to take a breath when it was necessary, so the next couple of lines came out rather weak, my voice slightly trembling towards the end. We weren’t even half into the song when the guitar stopped, causing everyone else to halt as well.

“It doesn’t sound right,” Eren said. “Something is off. And you,” he said, turning to me, “keep messing up.”

I was about to retort—to say that it was just once, that I didn’t keep messing up, that he should’ve continued playing instead of making a scene. But I didn’t say any of this. A wave of self-doubt washed over me, and the little bell in my head rang that maybe I was wrong. I did mess up. And perhaps I was messing up all along without noticing. Perhaps my judgment was corrupt. What did I even know at this point?

As the feeling of self-consciousness took root in my body, I wanted nothing more than to hide from all the gazes in the room. So, I fixed my eyes on the worn-out carpet underneath my feet and bit the inside of my cheek.

“I messed up a little towards the end. That’s probably why it seemed off,” Armin said.

“Maybe it’s enough for today?” Marco suggested. “We’ve been here for a while now, and we’re all just tired.”

This proposition made my shoulders drop, releasing the tension I wasn’t aware of prior. My eyes met Marco’s as, with a serene expression, he sent me a subtle but nonetheless amiable smile.

“Yeah, that’s enough.” Connie stood up from his seat. “I need at least four hours of ‘Call of Duty’ after this.”

“It will have to wait, though. We still have a project to work on…” Armin said, taking off his guitar.

In an instant, Connie’s face dropped. Following Armin and Marco, he trudged upstairs, groaning and lamenting about “this stupid project”.

Same, Connie. I almost forgot about it myself. Not even half of my initial enthusiasm was left. It all seemed jarring now, and the prospect of staying in this house any longer steeped me into a state of despondency.

Walking up the stairs, I could hardly discern Connie’s silhouette a few steps away due to how dark it was. So, when I felt someone’s presence right behind me, my heart skipped a beat and my breathing halted.

“No offense,” Eren said in a low voice, inches away from my ear. “You just needed to pull yourself together, so that’s why I said that.” He drew back and moved past me, leaving me puzzled.

another little something read the whole thing here or here for more content

[insurrection-if]

🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

"When an MC drinks the blood of a Gifted, they become connected to their heart, mind, and soul. They may feel past sensations, experience current emotions, or become foreign in their own skin."

Me, thinking: MC constantly drinking their beloved (main/minor) Gifted!RO's blood = ultimate intimacy 👀👀👀 Fite meh!

Aight, kidding aside, I wonder how would ROs react to that, especially on the early stage when they just met MC and, due to a valid reason, have to give their blood. Then they find out about the side effects O.O

Add to that, later on if a RO is secretly and deeply crushing on MC and has to give blood, I don't doubt that they would be in for a treat. Imagine the awkwardness and blushing and embarrassment 😈😎👌

(*´∀`*) Haha, I mean, some ROs would hold the opinion that it’s quite an intimate experience to be so helplessly vulnerable to this empathic experience with their partner / crush—others, well, are not too keen on it!

Ah, I fear I might veer into spoiler-y(?) territory since “revealing thoughts and emotions they most definitely did not want revealed, including romantic sentiments” is a planned possibility within the narrative for those drinking from their intended ROs. Mm, in more generalized terms I guess, the run-down for the HAWKS ROs would be:

Early Stages

In the case they had been unaware of the side effects prior to offering their blood (for a valid reason) . . .

Sigmund

Sigmund would be pissed, to put it lightly. It is too reminiscent of violations he has experienced in the past, whether they were attached to the antics of the Gifted or instigated by purely mortal whims, and he's practically grinding his teeth to dust as he holds back all he aches to shout. His glare is piercing, sometimes intended for Mockingbird themself and other times (when reason finally surmounts the blind rage he feels towards this unconsented exposure) simply towards the circumstances that forced them both in such a situation.

He will find a time and place to corner them somewhere, to interrogate them on what they had seen and . . . and, perhaps, what they had felt - what his gift felt like when experienced by the hands and heart of another.

"Next time," he more so growls than warns, "you will trust me to keep you safe: with or without the blood."

It is no question which scenario he truly demands you abide by when danger comes again. At the very least, his vow for protection is fully intended to be true. But whether he truly may prove enough on his own, without you to fight with his gift alongside him . . . that is a risk, a test of faith, you must be willing to take.

Imka

Imka would be more focused on her concern for Mockingbird’s emotional and mental well-being after undertaking such foreign sensations from others, not fully processing that those sensations are rather private to her. She worries their lack of mastery over her gift isn't worth of cost of adopting the burdens she never intended to force upon them, and she quickly insists on carrying a sense of blame for imposing this pain(?) onto Mockingbird.

Only in time, once separate from the immediacy of her panicked concern on Mockingbird's behalf and the shock of the revelation, will she flush horribly in embarrassment for all the unknown exposure she unwittingly bore to a near stranger - a violation she cannot help but think as cruel when she realizes how her most intimate thoughts and emotions had been made vulnerable to this theft in exchange for . . . power? protection? defense? Even if Mockingbird didn’t witness or experience anything truly personal, something she would never have willingly shared, the risk itself is unnerving to her.

Ah, but in that case, perhaps she is selfish to place her privacy above Mockingbird's ability to protect themself as a HAWK, as someone otherwise mortal and disadvantaged against the threats they face. Yet, even still, she cannot help the tears of shame that blur her vision at the thought of their judgement towards the most private parts of herself.

Elouan

Elouan would be conflicted between a cold curiosity to witness firsthand how exactly these side effects manifest in Mockingbird and a desire to keep what lies beneath his surface under lock and key.

He will feign absolute calm and confidence upon learning this, acting as though he does not have a plethora of unwanted skeletons to hide. Ah, is Mockingbird gazing at him differently than they had before? With contempt? Morbid curiosity? Acceptance, perhaps? An unlikely notion, but he entertains it all the same. Nonetheless, he knows it is best to not give reason for suspicions by insisting on interrogation or confrontation over what might have been unwittingly witnessed. In the meantime, he would be best served by building up Mockingbird's goodwill towards him before its current shaky foundations are inevitably torn down by what they will eventually come to see.

And yet, on his end, his sense of trust of them shall never be fully sound after this oversight in disclosure.

Jae

Jae, in the heat of the moments following Mockingbird's consumption of her blood, would purely be on an adrenaline high that fuels a sense of excitement towards seeing just how her gift fares in the hands of another - as novice or clumsy Mockingbird may turn out to be with it on a first try (which makes the entertainment all the better).

Learning of the consequences may first go through one ear and out the other, a trivial detail to be waved aside.

But once the truth settles in . . . her smile becomes sharp, eventually easing as her expression is softened by thought. For a time, the past occupies her present, a force almost alive and encompassing as she considers what you might have seen in the midst of what had been experimental fun to her not so long ago.

"You owe me, sneaky bird," she soon manages to tease through a sigh, her lips now able to lift in a peace-offering smirk. "I wonder what you have to offer that's as precious as my kindly given blood and memories. Two weeks' worth of laundry duty should be a good place to start, no?"

As much as her laughter implies this is no more than a joke, the sudden spark in her eyes suggests otherwise.

If you ever wish to disclose what you had seen, she would not halt your attempts to share. She may interrupt with a joke or correction, some input or rebuttal intended for no one but herself, but the way she leans close with eyes to intensely focused upon you is all the reassurance you would need towards her genuine interest. But she would never be the one to first make this approach for answers, not wishing to disturb the possible past or the fragility of her present by actively sticking her nose in a matter like this.

Mutya

Shit.

She never would have offered her gift to Mockingbird had she known. She would have told them to stay behind her, to not be the hero, to let her protect them.

It's not even the rage towards this unwanted exposure that twists her lips with frustration, stabs at her heart and hardens her glare. It's her damned fear for the danger they pose to themselves that causes her to coil up with a burning anger, an emotions directed at them as much as it is towards herself.

They never should have handled her gift with a mind split like this. The thoughts they manifest are not theirs alone, or risk not being so, and that unpredictability frightens her. Frightens her for their sake, her own, and everyone around them.

This is not a gift Mockingbird should wield if this is the case.

She is not someone Mockingbird should bind themself to in this way.

When all is said and done, it takes all her resolve to not knock some sense into them - the sense they clearly lacked when taking her blood without disclosing the extent of the risk.

From then on, she tries to live in ignorant bliss towards what Mockingbird might have seen and learned from this cursed bond.

Deep Crush Stages

Um, in a rather simplified and very general overview:

Sigmund: I should be enough. He has yet to acknowledge the sneer he wears whenever you drink from him, an expression he instinctively calms when your gaze flitters towards him. And yet, beneath his firm belief that he alone should be enough to keep you safe - to make you feel safe whenever you are by his side - he knows there too lies a selfish fear whenever you drink from his blood. Beneath the worries for your long-term health, the guilt for allowing you to carry his burdens, there lies the fear of his own honest heart. Unrestricted by his will, open and bare to you . . . he fears you will see him for the common man he is. Someone who, weak and afraid, will not ever be enough for you.

Imka: Be gentle, she silently pleas as her blood meets your lips. Please, soul or heart or whatever it is you are . . . please, be kind to Mockingbird. She avoids your gaze when you reunite, quelling the nervous shake of her palms by clasping them together in a hold as tight as her smile. Whatever it is you saw, I wish I could have told you myself.

Elouan: Please, he prays, do not be repulsed by my affection. His blood is yours to take, and he is a fool to leave himself to open to the hurt of your rejection . . . and, perhaps, disgust. As you endure the weight of his soul, he laments on not having been a better man. And though he may never have you, he may at least prove to be of some use to your wellbeing at the risk of his own selfish comfort.

Jae: This feels like a love letter, she muses with a grin, only wincing the slightest bit at the strength of love when she lacks a better word. Written all over my blood is my fondness for you, and you oh-so-conveniently happen to favor my vials. You must think you're sly, she ponders, wondering if you too can sense her amused accusations. I hope you enjoy the ego boost, songbird.

Mutya: Damn it, she internally groans whenever she catches herself thinking about you in the odd hours of the day and quiet moments of the night. With her accursed luck, this solitary intimacy she holds is bound to be shared to you in the midst of some inconvenient battle, dumping onto you her ridiculous wanting in a time where every moment holds a risk to you. She tries to silence these thoughts as she does for her own gift, these fixations on you in your daily and mundane lives, and yet . . . this self-discipline in regard to you, perhaps, will prove be the toughest battle she will ever face in this life.

And as a bonus for the non-HAWK ROs . . .

Early Stages

Fyodor

His hesitance towards allowing a stranger to wield his gift, one that should be directed by his will alone, would actually diminish upon learning these consequences. To have the chance to be understood so deeply by another, a near and supposed stranger they may be, is quite the alluring thought to him. Perhaps they will have greater insight into how his gift might best be translated into a force for good, or simply be tamed enough to be used solely by his will at all.

Please, if you will . . . tell him who he is, who you felt him to truly be.

Please, tell him what he might yet become.

Dearil

Aha, no.

His hand slips quickly, slyly, from the security of his glove. You will not cling to life long enough to sense the coldness of his touch, nor the strength of its bruising grip.

This is not a risk he will take.

Curadora

She quells the sense of betrayal that threatens to arise within her. How hypocritical. The self-given accusation is quick, and true. She is thankful for her mask as it rests atop the storm of emotions that are slowly, patiently, calmed by her will.

Ah, so this is what it feels like to be on the other end of this unfortunate deal.

She quiets her worries, focuses on her shaky trust in this Gifted that relies in equal turn on her blood. It is not as though she is helpless towards fixing this lose end in a harmless manner, one that will not leave her anguished for nights with guilt and fear.

The more accepting she appears towards all this, the easier it will be to lure them close and make matters right once more.

At the very least, she will leave them with the memory of her gratitude.

Retriever

Retriever would be somewhat lost for words at first. Maybe he would first offer a breathless laugh, short and instinctual in balance with his mixed emotions with routine politeness, as he ran a hand through his hair—only to then find himself unsure as to where to rest his hands next, a revelation matched with a throat suddenly too pinched with discomfort and uncertainty to speak.

By the time he collects himself enough to share his thoughts, any thoughts, on the matter he finds himself without the courage to share them with this near stranger.

And so, he settles with asking if they were comfortable through that whole experience, kindly halting any attempt from them to share whatever they had felt or seen.

Lempo

She's delightfully intrigued by this revelation, eager to see just how this mesh of psyches manifests in Mockingbird. She has nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, and so she is happy to witness just how Mockingbird will respond to the truest, deepest parts of herself.

When all is said and done, she will have no reservations towards offering her blood again.

And before you depart, please, let her taste to see if your ambrosia differs in any way from hers. It is only fair, after all.

Bones

In the very early days of becoming acquainted with the MC in childhood, he would have fought tooth and nail to protect his psyche from them. It is not theirs to see, to judge, and much less to feel just so they can use it to hurt him or - worse- pity him.

Mishka

Mishka would sooner kill the MC quickly and quietly before allowing them anywhere near their inner psyche.

Deep Crush

Again, briefly and in a very generalized manner:

Fyodor: He hopes it confesses all he cannot properly convey in words and actions alone.

Dearil: If this binds you more to him, then he can handle the consequences.

Curadora: She worries that, with every taste, you will only grow to despise her more.

Retriever: As long as you like what you see, he's glad to provide. Just . . . please, don't mention what you've seen.

Lempo: She would love to recount every moment of your connection together, enamored with your descriptions of how this bond felt.

Bones: He doesn't want to hurt you like this.

Mishka: Their frustration towards this exposure is restrained by their gratitude towards your survival after such an intense connection.

Thank you so much for the ask! (･⌄･)b

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you know of any creepypasta and/or internet urban legend themed ttrpgs? Not (just) horror, but specifically creepypasta with all the kind of silly stuff that includes like… themes and vibes of common ones that might even make the game silly depending on how you play it? Whether u play as Jeff the killer or have to fight him I’d love to see it lol

THEME: Internet Legends

What I looked for when I tracked down these recs were either a) things that referenced creepy pastas in their description, or b) games that directly connected to internet culture. Have fun with these ones!

Watching Us, by Justinquirit.

Tonight, we are alone together with the Watcher. None of us knows who or what he is, but he has been haunting each of us with his silent gaze. Although he has never approached us, we have imagined what he might do if he did.

Perhaps, if we stick together, we may escape this nightmare.

Watching Us is a game for 2-6 players and takes about an hour to play. Draw cards and answer their prompts, then invoke the Watcher's image. Together, slowly uncover the face of the entity that has been haunting all of you.

This looks like an excellent way to slowly build up the terror of something that’s been following you for a long time. It’s built on For The Queen, which is a game that relies on a story that’s built slowly over time by answering questions. This game was also made for the Fucked-Up Guy Game Jam, which has a number of other ttrpg items that may fit into the creepy-pasta mold about eerie human-like entities that won’t leave you alone.

Chase the H0ll0w, by Brandon Leon-Gambetta.

A game of fear and isolation for 3 to 5 players who would go into a bunker in the woods to follow something horrifying.

Chase the H0ll0w is a secret identity roleplaying game that tells a story similar to creepypasta fiction over the span of about two hours. It is intended for 3 to 5 players with one of those players taking on the role of game facilitator.

Players portray a group of internet sleuths exploring an abandoned or hidden place that is haunted by something terrifying and strange. They will be attempting to learn enough about it to solve how to get it to stop chasing them and (hopefully) to get their friend back who was already taken. 

This is a game in which each player is going to take on a secret role that will also likely determine their objectives throughout the course of play. If you want a game that will challenge you to out-last your friends, this might be worth checking out.

Contact from Unknown, by Speak the Sky.

..the graveyard shift 24-hour store clerk has too many teeth (pale like the moon, which is losing its shine)

...the airport never gets any night flights but there's always arrivals (in the moon-shaped terminal)

...the public-access astronomy TV show that starts at 3:33am and plays backwards (with a weird fixation with 'lunar songs')

Why doesn't anyone see this? Nobody seems to care. So, you turned to the best store of esoteric knowledge you could find - pseudonymous night owl weirdos in online chatrooms for paranormal investigators. Luckily, you matched with someone else in town, but it sounds like you might have different ideas about what's causing these things to happen. Still, someone is better than no-one. Now you just need to swap your knowledge, share your insight, and see if you can find the truth that's out there.

Before it finds you.

Contact from Unknown is a 2-player role-playing investigation game of dark lunar mysteries, esoteric chatroom weirdos, and gut-feeling horror that's designed for play via online messaging apps!

Each of you plays a paranormal investigator who's realised there's something terribly wrong with the moon, and the only other person in town who also knows is a fellow night owl in an internet chatroom... unless they're actually in on the mystery too. It's up to you to find out the truth and live to tell the tale. How do all the local urban legends and assorted weirdness in town figure into the mystery? Is the force behind everything merely alien or truly malevolent? Play to find out!

This is a great two-player game for making up and tracking down urban legends, especially if you don’t necessarily want a horror element. The two of you will put together clues together while on an internet chat-room, as you figure out whether the street sign parasites are connected to the new kid who everyone already knows, or whether both are just signs of something bigger… and weirder. This is also perfect for play between two people who can’t share the same physical space.

[paradise-in-k4]

The Gap in the Evening, Entry ⑨: Nameless on Purpose?

Our wanderings seemed to lead us to the mansion where Patchouli lives, although Suwako’s warning was still fresh in our minds as Koakuma showed us to a fairy that seemed to take a liking to us. It appeared that she too did not have a name, as we were told that her neighbors often called her “Daiyousei” which is Japanese for “Greater Fairy” in English. The reason she remained nameless besides being called a greater fairy was different from Koakuma’s, as if she intended to keep her name as it stands now. It would be another mystery for us to crack, one that she was willing to entertain us with.

Everyone has an identity. A name. Something that makes you unique. As for her, she says that names limit the power she can use. And because her working name depicts her as a greater fairy, it could be inferred that she possesses an ability that makes her more powerful or capable than other nearby fairies. And while I myself am not familiar with fairies, this is ultimately her decision… a right that we in our society have a say in invoking for ourselves and our identities. While there are things that can change easily like a nickname and how you dress to express yourself, there are things that take time and money to change in your life. Such facets include your birth name, the job you work, where your home is, and even your education, although these are only scratching the surface. As for Daiyousei, she wasn’t willing to look into it herself, nor was she interested. She was, however, willing to share a few things about herself after we shared some details about the Parallel Satellite Incident. Perhaps she could name a few solutions that we would never see ourselves, even with the advice and insights of a mountain god.

-Renko Usami

——————————

Muse Notes: Daiyousei

Title: Nameless Greater Fairy

Universe of Origin: L1

Size (headcanon): Considerably short; 3’0”

Species: Fairy

Pronouns: She/Her

Age (headcanon): At least 150, potentially older than the Hakurei Barrier, immortal

Personality: Daiyousei is cheerful and sometimes mischievous just like the other fairies, although she often has her timid and shy moments that are only eclipsed by her kind demeanor to everyone. Although she often acts this way, that doesn’t stop her from being a strong leader/senior figure amongst the other fairies when she has to, where she adopts the darker, bolder, more courageous tone that comes with it. Whether she’s feeling strong with the support of the other fairies or is actually stronger from being empowered by magic or similar, others will sometimes refer to her as DIE-yousei during these moments because of her willingness to do things like punting a youkai in the shins to prove a point.

Occupation: None(?), Part-time Fairy Maid

Home Region: Misty Lake

Ability: Unknown

Bullets: Similar somewhat in appearance and behavior to established patterns like Cirno’s Icicle Fall.

Life Energy: Fairies are composed of life energy, and Daiyousei is supposedly the most powerful amongst all of Gensokyo’s fairies, so she might have an ability related to nature or life force in some way.

Too Many Unknowns: Daiyousei’s name and actual ability are still unknown, so speculation is prevalent. Things we know about Daiyousei are broad observations recorded in the Lost Word Files.

Teleportation?: True fairy magic? Or something that only looks like teleportation?

Shapeshifting?: She dropped a heavy weight on someone ONE TIME after hearing a story about fairies in a foreign land from Cirno who heard it from the Scarlet Devil Mansion, and now she’s turned it into a Spell Card. Was it magic like this? Or was the “8T Weight” 3.0 bullet line recorded in her Spell Card all talk?

Magic?: A broad term we’re using for surface-level classifications. The specifics are unknown, but it’s said that she did experiment with fire magic in her bullets at least once under the suggestion of Fujiwara no Mokou. Speculations from an alternate file suggest that she also had the ability to borrow elemental powers from other fairies and spirits including those of ice, water, wind, and even pure life force that had been tainted by the Scarlet Mist.

Possessions:

Blue Dresses: A set of small blue dress that fits Daiyousei. Some of them have complete sleeves, while others just have a space for an undershirt to fit through.

White Shirt: Small shirts that Daiyousei wears underneath her dress. They’re usually short-sleeved.

Small Shoes: Child-sized blue shoes. Cheap, long-lasting, and eco-friendly.

Socks: Small but long and soft tube socks, which Daiyousei sometimes wears without shoes. They go up to her knees.

Yellow Ribbons: Accessories for Daiyousei to wear on her vibrant green hair and on the collar of her sky-blue dress.

Maid Uniform: A complete uniform worn by the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s Fairy Maids, crafted by Sakuya Izayoi. She wears it when helping pinch-hit for some of the Fairy Maids that work there, working part-time in the mansion for a bit of money, or if she’s going incognito for some other reason.

Muse-Specific Headcanons:

It’s possible for more than one Daiyousei to exist in the world since the name is generic for greater fairies, and this could just be one of them.

Everyone questions how Daiyousei got her hands on a maid uniform. She won’t say how she did it, but she will sometimes talk about her work experience in the mansion.

After hearing about Junko’s foiled invasion of Gensokyo/the Moon from Koakuma, Daiyousei thinks about whether she wants to forego a definite name beyond her general classification of Daiyousei (Japanese for “greater fairy”) since- according to people like her and Junko- names bind power.

She is a key member of “Team ⑨” consisting of her, Cirno, Wriggle, Rumia, and Mystia, although she might be the smartest out of all of them.

Daiyousei was unprepared at first to adjust to the new Spell Card rules, especially when Reimu came by during the Scarlet Mist Incident. Since then, Daiyousei came up with a few cards of her own, including a few that are focused on supporting her team and herself instead of subjecting her opponent to a bullet hell.

Blog-Specific Lore Notes:

Daiyousei is aware of- and helps cover for on occasion- a defensive sub-faction of fairies formally stationed on the West Mountain called the Armored Fairies. Not a bright point for her to talk about, but she might talk about it with friends who have a slight inkling of understanding them.

During the Frost Miko Incidents, Daiyousei along with the Three Fairies of Light were all pressed into service for the Hakurei Shrine by Yukari while Reimu was considered absent. While this blog takes place after those incidents were resolved, she still wants to follow Reimu and Marisa if they go on a similar adventure again. Spoiler alert, they will.

She only recently heard about the Parallel Satellite Incident, and she was willing to share what she knew about it and some possible solutions with Renko and Maribel, although Reimu would share in this information as well when Daiyousei went with them on an investigation into the West Mountain.

Spell Cards: (All taken from Lost Word because none canonically exist in Touhou)

Swap: Changeling

Hoax: Cottingley Fairies

Wind Sign: Sylphide the Elemental (A6)

Lake Sign: Viviane the Guardian (A6)

Everyday Magic (Last Word)

Camellia Titania (A6 Last Word)

[un-owen23]

Chapter Unknown #1 "Contemplation in Pain"

Well, how should I tell everyone about the things happening lately?

I mean, it’s not that I have someone close enough to me personally; who would comfortably expend twenty thousand words in both bullshit and insight; who does not mind listening to my repeated complains about a specific problem no matter how annoying it is; he who will keep giving obvious advice specifically matched to my problem with a hundred per cent effectivity in solving yet never offended when it constantly denied by my overly-illogical reasons; well, such friend is a ghost to me.

So, I guess I have to settle everything by my own hands… by my limited capabilities in thought and execution; including the responsibility to face the after taste.

“I know it’s wrong.” I reminded her; only with the intention to show that I am on her side. “We seek happiness. You pray for it. You realize that he is unable and probably will stay unfit to answer your expectations; then it’s time to take it as a lesson.”

She was confused; maybe not really confused. Most of the times, she said that I was right; yet her hesitation won’t end with just every seemingly brave action she took. She was never satisfied with the results. Doubt was always bugging her heart; and it created a time bomb which would end up destroying everything we build; including me.

“Can you please just… go away from me?”

It was always between the bad and the good; the truth and the deceit. Her mind circulating on many that were incomprehensible for her cognition. Since it was a new experience in her days as adult; which path should she take to reach the contentment and not regret?

“I am in a relationship with someone. It’s true that I have dissatisfaction in him. But, it’s just not right… doing as we please… it’s going to hurt him?”

“I am in love with you.” I whispered only the truth. “I’ll do better in anything. Don’t we share the same vision? Don’t you think that I can help you… assisting you in reaching your dreams?”

“I don’t know…”

“Please… just give me an honest answer…”

“What is honesty when I don’t know which is right and wrong…”

“Then, will you trust me?”

It was never intended for manipulation. In fact, it was through me that she could have built her awareness to any manipulative intention; including the possibility that she grew up with such treatment. To the best of my own consciousness; I would never use anything transcribed as a new attempt for manipulation in my words and actions toward her. Everything was meant to build a secure and healthy relationship based on mutual consent.

Perhaps, I should have stopped at the moment before everything is started.

Well, you have me as your friend, now… what’s done is done… you have learned your regrets and it is now the time to face the music…

“Can you just shut, up?”

I wish… but don’t you want a friend, huh?

I am here to be the one you wanted the most… now, just tell me everything, pretend that I know nothing about it… I’ll give you a friendly suggestion and if you’re too coward, I’ll do all the acts of whatever you want; deliver the justice…. a sweet revenge… or perhaps… prostrating for a come-back?

Who is he; the one talking inside my head?

Well, it’s a long story that will be uncovered in time. He is currently living in me. Yapping in the middle of my overthinking; commenting on the dialogues played in my head each moment of my relapse. It happened so much it felt like I was chatting with a real person. Though he was always in between reality and fantasy; one thing for sure, I am not hallucinating.

From now on… call me the other you…

Try to look at the mirror and make a grin… even if you are unable to do so, I will do it anyway… you will see the other you that is not you… you will see me…

Talk to me about anything… I’ll do anything for you… I will drag your wildest dreams into reality… including the worst of the thing you have ever imagined to the person who hurt you…

“Ah… what was that?”

Murder?

“Hmm, it’s a thing I can do by myself. I don’t need you.”

Hahaha… that’s it… the pride of a criminal, eh?

“It’s another to settle later…”

Why would a heartless murderer like you lost to the pain of broken heart?

“That’s why I’m still a human…”

How does it feel to be heartbroken?

“You can read my mind; can’t you just feel what I feel? You are living inside me; you are literally me. Can’t you feel the pain?”

Hmm…

A long conversation may that be. A painful relapse may happen. An unwanted companion singing inside my head. They were just packed in my own self; within me while the physical manifestation of me was sitting still in the corner of my working space. In one of the rooms in the third floor of C building intended for student clubs; this room was meant for the department of advocacy of the student councils; in which I acted as their advisor. It’s a nice room with a good ambience and there was an extra space for me separated from the main room; with a door directly connected to the corridor to make sure that there wouldn’t be mutual disturbance with the students; the advisor room which mostly unused due to the absence of its role taker. I’ve designed it to be fully functional for me with my chair, desk, and gadgets installed; and the good thing is that it has the window facing the far ocean in the north yet could still give me some breeze to clear my mind.

Ah.

Didn’t I mention about my main occupation as a teacher, before?

Well, before we strolled in another unfortunate relapse; my name is Amir. Almost thirty with a long list of experience which mostly boring. I grow up as an ordinary person with nothing to boast about. I am just one of the many; very, very ordinary type of person who would be easily forgotten upon my disappearance. My circle is very limited to people who were in the same class as me; working in the same office; or living in the same building; yet none of them got too close in the inside. Some easy variables to measure the claim included our mutually limited access to each other’s purses; and the fact that they would find difficulties in a task of describing me in two thousand words essay.

As a solitary person who rarely depend on others; I build enough anxiety upon facing pressure from social interaction. So, it was always a trait that whenever I was put in the center of crowd attention; flight is my foremost respond. Closest acquittance might stop guessing about my next action which was always the same… I do follow up any problem with my own approach…

So, you say that you have a dark side which is unknown to everyone?

“Right. Though there is always an exception who is fated to bond with me through that one irregularity.”

It must be your late father… and the one who was sent beside him on his last moment…

True.

You told me that you are a murderer… and in fact, I saw one of your crimes…

I understand… there is no secret between us…

You may as well know everything about me…

“Save that for later. Fairy tail or legends. I don’t care about such thing. And if you are truly someone who descends from heaven, why don’t you have one miracle that I want to use the most?”

Hahaha… you’re still talking about that?

Come on. I am not here to please your desire. I am just roleplaying as you. And since you retired being a murderer; you decided to follow the career as English teacher; perhaps I should learn to be a caring and supportive person; not a gloomy and lonely you.

Isn’t it an irony?

“I mean… you should ask me about the audacity to stay here and live with the survivor of my atrocities? Guiding them to be a kind-hearted adult; preaching about righteousness and justice while I am constantly living in hypocrisy?”

What does it matter? You will atone your sins… maybe karma is playing its part now…

“It is both too easy and too difficult as a karma…”

Your indescribable emptiness…

The void left in your heart that would never recover…

Minor pain is constantly annoying your day and night…

And you have weird obsession in someone whom normally should disappoint you…

“I was just trying to run from the fate of a sinner. Washed my bloody hands by living as an ordinary me; among the average; I told my father that I was going to stop. I found someone worthy living with despite all the boredom and deadlock; I am in love. Please, let me tread my own future free from the history of bloodshed. I want to thrive in the future with full of happiness; and I want to be sincere to my own self.”

Hahaha…

Such conviction never bore me, really!

Ah, and you experience it!

Aren’t you feeling great that your unwanted twist is actually happened?

The one you afraid the most!

“It’s the commitment. It’s the devotion. Nothing but the best intention. I am truly in love. Love brings me the common sense; a common dream of humanity; peaceful life. Harmony.”

Hahaha…

And you are betrayed…

“Though, they don’t shatter. All the dreams and hope build to be side-by-side with here. I still have the vision for the endless happiness after this long chapter of pain!”

A mere daydream…

Your love is no longer unrequited…

The vision is different…

For her… the peaceful and comfortable life is fulfilled without your presence…

Time proves… that the fact lasted more than your time with her… it is what is happening…

“A life of pursuing ambition… is never an easy one… this pain and experience are a mere test to prove my sincere feelings. I have a firm believe that God will grant me the happy end.”

Again… the audacity to mention God…

Hahaha…

“Laugh at me.”

I feel bad. Inside, you must be crying a lot. Behind that stern and stubborn mask. I feel pity. I want to give you the best advice if you wish to hear; well, why don’t you just move on?

“Move on? What is that? It’s been months; won’t be long until a year; perhaps it will last longer than my happiness when I was with her; but no matter what happens; it stays. Isn’t it the meaning of being sincere? I am… staying true to my own feelings… My heart, my words, my actions; they will stay in harmony… to reach into her heart once again… to bring back what was once lost…”

Honestly…

You can live better than to chase such foolish ambition…

There are a lot of conclusions you could withdraw from your current affair… why would it turn into a new battle?

Is there any alternative… an easier outcome?

“I don’t know… most of the times… I just want to die…”

Poor child…

You’ve showed me your strong confidence… an unwavering ambition…

Beautiful. Though, I can also see your broken soul… and your fragile mental state…

You have regressed into an incapable person…

Love is blind; it takes all of your senses; retards you; leaves you as an empty shell that moves only to follow your foolish ambition. It must be the best that we’ve met; that our destiny aligned! You can go on crying… sulking in your suffering… Now, just give me your body and let me take over… as a payback for the contract that we signed… I will help you face your reality…

“I will just rest for a while…”

Crying in your lonesome day and night…

After all the rejections you faced from the one you loved the most in this world, you must come to the conclusion that her feeling is gone and it will be forever irreversible. Unlike you, she doesn’t love you. All the determination will end up as nothing. They will only be rewarded with this incurable disease you are currently suffering. So, follow me, succumb the will of dying for an extra moment that you will never forget.

Living as the one who isn’t originally from this world…

“You sure talk a lot… it pains me to know that you’re also saying the truth about me… I have told her everything… I have done everything… and there is no answer from her… I have begged for her return… I told her my compromise… I promised her all the best she can get from me… I apologize to her already… and I forgive her… I will always love her… but there is no reply…”

Except for the silence… and indifference…

Even more painful than a coup de grace…

All the pain turned the world and the sky appeared darker; the temperature decreased a little and the cold embraced in blanket of sorrow; the melody of the wind and the rain shuffling in the playlist of sadness. I had no other desire but to stay with her; I never wished for a new beginning; I wasn’t capable of accepting an alternative ending; I rejected this current reality. Everything I had; I put it in the stake; for my last mission in this world; I will let this unknown live as me; while I wait for the good news; for the day when she loves me; the way she loved me last year.

Or until you die…

Another relapse happened along the melting sorrow… a small stream created from the droplet produced in my tear duct… through the terrain of my tired face… I could remember well her words for my birthday…

“I wish for you happiness; I wish for your well-being; stay with me forever. I will help you, stand beside you for everything you wish to achieve; I will always be your first friend. I’m not exaggerating; I will try to answer all your effort and kindness equally. I know your struggle; and I will make sure you are not alone. There are so many places for us to go, so many experienced we have yet to feel together, and so many dreams for us to pursue together. Please, stay with me… forever… I love you…”

Sadly, it was the only one birthday I spent with here…

Without even one word turned out to be true…

It is still happening… nothing for sure…

“How come… someone who was in love with me… lost it like there was nothing…”

So many great tales started with broken heart…

As long as you are still breathing…

There is still hope…

“Thank you… though such words never help me better…”

Yeah… that’s why…

Just sleep…

Let me do the rest… while you are waiting…

“Yeah…”

I will protect you from the despair and nightmare…

Become the you who is frightened by your own reality…

Someone told me the story. He said it was just a legend that never got too popular that many would forget. Though he claimed it to be real; it stayed unproven. The story was about a fallen star who descended to the earth some centuries before today. It was story about a creature with skin as pale as snow; the sapphire color of his eyes said to be able to attract rain and winter; and he was blessed with multiple miracles to make him stand above the realm he visited. He wandered alone to the many universes he visited; to read the story treaded by each civilization; to make friend with the souls of the living creature; to join them as one of the characters; to witness the ongoing existence; and perhaps to end as one of them. This friend called him as the unknown.

I have the name…

He assumed different form each time he blended with the civilization. Sometimes, he materialized into his own flesh and blood; the other times, he would just love to coexist with others; forming a mutual symbiosis with specific merits and demerits to both of them. His role was never limited as a figure with superior power that was mysterious and untouched by the common sense; but also, a normal human being who lasted without legacy. Among the roles he played in this world; there were the wise king who brought prosperity to the kingdom, evil tyrant who brought calamity within his reign, black magician who devastated the land, part of adventurer who journeyed to the new world, war criminal who committed genocide; rich merchant who ruled the world, a scientist discovering novelties; a low-ranked soldier died in the war, slave tortured to his death, farmer suffered famish, and so many others throughout generations.

Currently I’m just playing the role of a sad man… a lonely high school teacher…

“What is it that you seek?”

Hmm, I don’t know… I’m just going with the flow… and once this world gets boring, I’ll just fly to the next one…

“Is there even any?”

Well, my story would just be equal to any fiction you’ve read… you can’t even prove the truth in my words no matter how you try… just take it with the grain of salt…

“At least, don’t make it boring. I still need some entertainments within my slumber.”

Hahaha… fine…

A moderately strong force knocked the door of my room. A shadow passed for a glimpse in the corner of my eye; it was a student who came from the next room. Relatively tall figure for a teenager girl stood behind the door just in the corridor. One of my students.

“I know you’re here.” She said, upon seeing me opening the door. “Here you are. All the students’ data you asked. I’ve shortlisted the problematic one, not me, of course. Alice said that you’re going to help them, since we don’t want their scholarships to be revoked. So, what’s your plan?”

“Hmm, me? Isn’t it Alice, idea?”

“Something related with working in the community, for the pacifists. She said you’re going to help them find a good community to volunteer?”

“Ah… did I promise such thing?”

“Hey, stop being irresponsible. Anyway, I don’t want to discuss about it when no one is here. I think everyone is going to be busy, so, I’ll be going to volunteer in the library. This place gives me creepy feelings.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll review each of their problems, but Alice should initiate the meeting and the follow up. Is that what we promise?”

“Alright. Anyway, I’ll be going first.”

Nana is my student and a member of the Student Councils’ Department of Advocacy. She is a good friend with Alice, the coordinator; and the unluckiest member due to her discipline. She spent most of her extra times working in the school library. Just like me, she preferred somewhere silent with no one to disturb her.

You’re quite easy to talk, huh? Despite your introverted nature, and twisted background.

“Outside the perspective of administrative works; I am a good teacher, you know?”

Well… I still think I can do better…

“With all your knowledge about me, are you going to keep my personality and everything about me to stay as it is; or you’re going to be an entirely different persona?”

Mostly the same…

“Hmm… I wonder, if you know everything about me including my feelings; can you feel it too? The pain? The suffering? Or, at least, do you have some empathy for me?”

I do. I am you, after all. They don’t pain me, though.

“Are you implying that they are not real?”

No. It’s different. The psychology and physiology of human don’t seem to work the same on me. Some people may tell a story to romanticize an immortal who falls in love; who feels the grief of losing; or suffers the same drama as you human; I don’t. I am built different; and I think, the true immortal won’t be as weak as you.

“Oh… that makes more sense…”

I met the worse.

And I will do the worst for you.

[gemkun]

@oneireth said : [ SIX ] : “ being physically attracted to you doesn’t mean i’m in love with you. ” sh cae and dancae :wubbaboo peek: ↬ * [  DIALOGUE PROMPTS  ] :  feelings are complicated. 

      ⸻       is   that   a   sentiment   he   was   supposed   to   be   unaware   of   ?   his   confusion   draws   ,   apparent   in   the   furrow   of   his   brow   ,   and   the   lines   that   firm   ,   chiselling   his   stern   profile.   these   .   .   .   conclaves   with   the   stellaron   hunter   ,   were   never   intended   to   be   anything   more   than   surface   level   attendances.   absent   was   the   inclination   to   delve   further   ,   submerging   into   unknown   depths.

  he   shares   it   ,   as   intense   as   the   troublemaker   before   him   ,   with   arms   extended   forth.   caging   the   dragon.   a   vehemence   that   carves   in   his   penetrating   stare   ,   akin   to   the   coarse   waters   that   ravage   intruding   vessels.

  a   hand   presses   to   a   chest   ,   where   fingers   begin   to   spread   evenly   ,   granting   him   a   larger   area   to   exert   his   strength   against.   ❝   i   find   it   hard   to   believe   you’re   capable   of   loving   someone   in   the   first   place.   ❞   brutal   ,   perhaps   ,   as   he   relinquishes   from   their   physically   twined   bodies.   liberating   himself   from   the   enemy.

  ❝   to   admit   attraction   so   openly   .   .   .   i   imagine   you're   aware   that   it   is   not   dissimilar   to   announcing   a   weakness.   from   a   stellaron   hunter   ,   no   less.   ❞

[flamurai]

     𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘. as those fingers dragged across his skin without hesitation, plummeting into curves, feeling where no one else has ever touched. it ushers warmth within his chest, the hearth bellowing revitalized 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 and raising blood flow. temperature peaked, flushing beneath each movement, as if the other were casting pyres alight. tengen was envied for his beauty, often flaunted it with very little contest to be heard from his fellow pillars. perhaps they were at their wits end, and refused to humor him. however despite not seeing his own 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐋 ... he would revel the chance to compliment his friend. no one spoke praise quite like rengoku did, words were without hinderance and always rang true. they began quaint, not overstepping the boundary. but as bonds grew closer, lines began to dither from perspective. finding themselves blushing and averting their gazes. something dismissed as embarrassment, perhaps even platonic teasing.

     honey lashes flicker, visage awed by the sounds another could make that he could lure out such marvelous expressions. rosy lips curved, as they always did when enamored. i want to hear more, it's beautiful. this was uncharted territory, however. a moment in time where he stepped aside, and relented reign to someone other than himself. nerves were wracked, not fearing the unknown but craving direction in their chosen path. there was tenderness in that, letting go and allowing burdens to shift unto those stood alongside you. they shared a spirit in that aspect, offering solace and bearing the brunt when needed. and though fire does not yield to sound, a 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 rarely needs reasoning. they were an idea, an abnormal design that deemed itself divine in nature. it was through their destruction, that they finally coexisted as hollowed husks. no longer defined as anything but themselves.

     hands are stilled by an endearing 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 upon his temple. and so gold captures maroon, brows raising when realization settles. a sheepish chuckle elevates, gaze averted as cheeks reddened. yes, not many envisioned themselves in grasslands with their lover in tow. delving into private matters as the general public lingered did seem rather scandalous. neither intended to keep this a secret, but he was a respectable man and carried morality on his sleeve. ❛ admittedly, i was concerned for that. being outdoors, where others might spot us or worse, hear us being indecent. ❞ he prattles on when nervous, it never misses a beat / his rumbling tune, the way voice echoes without a hint of uncertainty. that apprehension strays when both men stood and he is pulled close, bodies pressing and revealing mirrored 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 for one another.

     shoulder arched in a gentle motion, subconsciously leaning against those words spoken beside his ear. i want you, kyojuro. heart quickened, beating unevenly as lips leave a kiss in their wake. eyes are then steered to meet, searching for answers even before words are spoken aloud. it pleads for acceptance, needs him to submit in a way that doesn’t warrant 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 but to surrender oneself. where mind, body, and soul await consumption. digits are gliding up his wrist, easing that hand into his own. thumb traces his palm, careful and treading delicately with him. ❛ i've always remained in the present, never dared look behind me ... nor could i ever foresee a future that didn't exist. ❞ smile is instinctive, as though his own admittance sparks something elated and profound. ❛ until now, i have never been more certain of anything in my life. ❞

     tengen is the one being guided now, led away by a humble gesture and 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 gaze. ❛ let's walk into that future together. ❞ steps are precise, in reverse as he beckons the man forward then back turns to him. hands would sustain their hold as partitions slide open to greet them inside, removing sandals upon entry. a home seeming so barren, as if not lived in and merely used for the barest essentials : the flame hashira wasn't as lively as many presumed. wounds could heal in time, but scars relented to fade and served as a reminder above the surface. lips 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓 to find those opposite him, extending upright to reach and releasing a breathy sound symbolic of laughter. his stature was horrendous, but they would make due. arm wrapped around the nape of his neck, prying him with a downward squeeze so mouths could thoroughly press. it was brief, noses nudging with a warm nuzzle. he may lack experience, but being attentive was purely intuitive. fingertips splay at the lapels of his lover's robes, curling into fabric, ❛ steady now. ❞ they are mindful, slowly dragging him into a lowering position, to join one another upon the futon down below. just a mess of limbs, and tousled hair upon cool sheets. @chaoslulled

               𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍,       the way that he surrounds himself with three wives, the way he boasts of them and the love that they share.     one must understand where he comes from though, how they have been arranged since he hit the age of sixteen.       they have suffered for him, because of him, no matter the life that he tries to give them.      no matter how he's had his eye on the other, no matter how many times he's had to breathe deep and call upon his own nerves to take over after a sparring session, he has one strong resolve:       they may add on, but he will not subtract the three of them.      no, they have stood by his side for far too long to just merely be cast aside because his heart has finally cracked open, thawed and demanded what he has denied it for so very long.       but he knows how it must feel to have to be fourth, to look at a relationship that is not singular   ––––    even if the three of them already love kyojuro, have been asking about him and the way that they are close.      there has been that sly look in their eye that he hates, the one that he tries to push down and away because it reveals far too much.

               lips against his skin and words of reassurance, and he settles his hand against a firm chest, feels the thundering heartbeat underneath.     there's resolve in them, in the talk, and he wonders how long they have been dancing around one another.      how long they've been pulled close and stepped back, laughing it off with wide eyes and grins, blamed it on adrenaline instead of what it truly was.        he knows it has to have been a long time, given the way that they kiss as if the world is ending.      the way that his chest aches for air but he ignores it, letting out a whimper as his tongue runs along his own, back arching slightly at the very feeling of it.      his arm is strong where it holds him up, keeps his weight off of the other   –––––    only trained through years of having to hone his muscles.        even so, when he feels knees pressing in around him, feels the way that they line up with one another, he feels the soft tremble right before kyojuro breaks away, breathing heavily as his own lips nip along a firm jawline. 

               𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌.     his head feels heavy with want and his body aches just the same    –––––     saccharine sugar as he nips at a pulse point just to seal his lips there next, feel the harsh beat against his own skin.       his eye flutters shut and he gives into the sound of heavy breathing, the way that fingers dig into his skin;     the scent of cherry blossoms streaming around them and highlighting him in pink.      the words make him pause though, slowly pulling back so that he can look at him;      his own chest heaves, brows furrowing slightly as white frames his features.        somehow, as much as he wants to say that it doesn't fit him, he realizes that it does   ––––    realizes that he has never seen past hashira, because that is what he has been taught first and foremost.      even now with injured breathing and missing an eye, he still broods hashira throughout his veins.      he is more than his bastard father in that regard.      but there is part of him that aches, that realizes just how lonely this has all been.       no matter the attitude, friendship, or family    –––––    hashira's dip into the loneliness that surrounds them because that is what is required on the battlefield. 

               he finds he wants to take that away from him.          his fingers splay against his side for a moment, then move so that only his thumb is stroking the spot.      it's not ideal    –––––    he wishes they had done this before all the injuries, before he was out of his depth and out of his prime.        even if hina has smacked him and makio has scolded him, it doesn't feel better.       he always feels a little off kilter, always finds himself trying to work like he used to when he has to account for new things like balance now.        but he swallows hard and pushes himself back into his mind, onto the boy that looks sheepish and shy below him, that shows the openness of want and doesn't know entirely what to do with it.        a moan escapes his lips when his hips rises, swallows hard as he tries to shove the feeling down when their hips rock in just the right spot that sends his head spinning. 

               it takes him a moment to realize that nimble fingers grip the knot and his eye softens a bit, maroon gazing down at flames that are constantly trying to blaze brighter, harder.     he dips for a moment, gentle as he presses a kiss against his temple, against his cheek.      there's a fondness that blooms, that makes him want to pull him in close and kiss him until he stops overthinking.     kiss him until he realizes that he is more than battle, more than flame    –––    that he has always been that for him.       ❝  c'mon, we should take this somewhere else.      not that i'm above doing it outdoors, but i want this all to myself.  ❞        maroon sweeps down along his body now in turn, smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.       he's careful as he stands, not bothering to hide the interest that has stemmed from the encounter.       but when the flame is on his feet, he tugs him in close, nuzzles his nose below his ear.       ❝  i'll teach you.     but i don't want you thinking about what they do to me.      i want you, kyojuro.      not them.  ❞      he leaves a quick kiss against the spot before he pulls back, gaze sweeping against his for a long moment before he cups his jaw, turning him upward so that their gazes meet.       ❝  you're sure about this?      you can back out whenever you need to.  ❞        he sets the same rules that he has set for them all, because if he is going to love kyojuro, he is going to consume him like a flame    ––––     and he needs kyojuro to know that no matter what, he has a choice. 

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Words Create

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.” Psalm 19:14NLT

The tongue, belonging to Debbie, likes to steer my ship into sandbars and hidden reefs, even to catch forests afire, see James 3. Words sometimes exit my lips, which I thought were dead, killed, and buried in baptism.

But if I think what comes out of my lips is bad— watch out for my heart. Jeremiah 17:9AMP “The heart is deceitful above all things And it is extremely sick; Who can understand it fully and know its secret motives?” I’ve spent many hours searching in my mind, questioning the content and motives of the words spewed from the mouth. Why did I say that? What was the motive behind the words? Is this the real idea or is there a real answer? Was I hiding in fear about an unknown? Did I intend to hurt or harm? Have I been intentionally wanting what I’ve been saying? Could I simply have spoken to hear myself?

Words were used to create the universe, see Genesis 1. Words create the life we live every day, Proverbs 18:20. Words can bring forth death to something we want to live, Proverbs 18:21. Words can keep alive something we want to die, Proverbs 10:19. Words are directly tied to receiving from God, Mark 11:22-24.

How do we get what our heart is hiding, and what our mouth is speaking to co-operate in pleasing God? Paul answered this in 2Corinthians 13:5NLT— “Examine yourselves to see if your faith is genuine. caution Test yourselves. Surely you know that Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuine faith.” I’ve been watching numerous Jesus Image services on YouTube. These people throw caution to the wind in abandoned worship of our precious Lord and Savior. Want to please God? Let’s set our hearts and mouths to worship God without reservation, singing, dancing, waving banners, kneeling, falling on our faces as we exalt and glorify King Jesus. While in an attitude of worship, Jesus Image’s pastor asks everyone to examine their own hearts.

No one knows our hearts better than Holy Spirit. By asking Holy Spirit to show us what we’re truly feeling and thinking deep in our hearts, we open ourselves to scrutiny, exposure and conviction. This is a good thing. I’ve seen really ugly parts of me which I didn’t know even existed.

Learn to speak the heavenly language. Speaking the negative news, information, ideas comes as easily as breathing. Did you hear— gossip, equally as easy to speak forth.

If someone dares to say they’re healed without an in-your-face proven healing— that makes the person a liar. Ah— Jesus said we’re to speak and believe the healing finished before we ever see it. Paul called it being like Jesus, “…the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.” Romans 4:17ESV.

Do we call ourselves slaves or free of tyrannical government? God has been saying for two years, He’s set us free of tyranny. Is God lying? Are we declaring what we see and not what God says? Since God creates what isn’t out of the spoken word, which is the more intelligent speech? Should we declare what God says? Perhaps we share the headlines or news of CNN, FOX, or NBC— is that what we really want to see.

Speak what the Bible and God through His prophets say. Align our hearts and minds to make them pleasing unto God. Then we help God to create good for us in the face of evil. It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Holy God we must learn to speak Your language and in Your way. It’s hard for our minds. Help us in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[ladytabletop]

D10 list: on road non combat encounters

The herd of deer blocks the road, their felted antlers stark against the clear sky. They're massive, nearly the size of an elephant each. They pull up great strips of grass as they graze, surveying you with a lazy gaze.

You hear them before you see them: a troupe of travelling singers. Their four part harmony echoes sweetly through the hills. When you finally see them, they're still singing. Four dwarves with beards braided thick with all manner of items - flowers, feathers, sea glass beads, coins, more you can't determine - raise their hands in greeting to you.

It's dusk. You've just started watching for a place to camp when the lights catch your eye. At first, you think they're merely fireflies, but it quickly becomes apparent they are something out of the ordinary. The pattern they make, in a wide array of colors, is beautiful to behold.

The lone traveler is dressed in tattered robes of deep blue. They are older than you expected for someone alone on the road, so far from any town. They carry a heavy pack. 'It is an offering,' they tell you, 'to a goddess almost forgotten'. You notice they carry nothing else.

The man is bandaged and sports a fresh black eye, but he waves off your attempts at help. 'I've had enough of adventurers for a lifetime, in my line of work. I'm retiring. You work for enough wannabe despots, you end up like this. Time to go home.'

The parade of people stretches out for at least a mile. Children walk with livestock, those in finery with those in rags, grandmothers and young bucks, a varied group. One woman explains they had to evacuate their village. 'Not a one lost or left behind, and us fifty miles out already,' she boasts. You wonder how far they intend to travel.

The band of adventurers is travel-worn. Their armor is well-used, their packs expertly packed. They'll gladly share a campfire with you, telling tales of their adventures.

The ghostly figure appears in broad daylight, wavering like a mirage in the desert. It is a young man in harlequin clothes. He sits, writing a letter in a language unknown to you. In minutes, he fades away.

The merchant's cart is laden with cookware, mostly. There are a few odds and ends tucked between metal cauldrons and wooden spoons. Perhaps you'll find a hidden treasure.

The ostrich-drawn chariot speeds by you with barely a shout to warn you. It is followed closely by two riders on horseback, then a pair of massive dogs pulling a cart. Straggling behind, a palanquin carried by two men tries to keep up.

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