#gns theory

[zedecksiew]

GNS is not a Theory; it is a Tradition

This post is a brain-fart---me trying to jot a thought, lurking and seeing TTRPG folks react to GNS Theory for the upteenth time.

+

Context:

GNS Theory seeks to frame, understand, categorise, and model tabletop roleplay---and, via this framework, suggest solutions and improvements to the craft of TTRPG design as a whole. Understanding GNS Theory, it is asserted, will allow you to create better-designed ("more coherent") games.

Edwards compares the utility of understanding GNS to that of understanding physics:

I use a physics analogy: prior to the insights of Newtonian physics, bridges could be built. Some of them were built rather well. However, in retrospect, we are well aware that in order to build the bridge, the designer must have been at the very least according with Newtonian physics through (1) luck, (2) imitation of something else that worked, (3) use of principles that did not conflict with Newtonian physics in a way that mattered for the job, or (4) a non-articulated understanding of those principles. I consider the analogy to be exact for role-playing games.

+

"Is GNS Theory right or wrong?" is usually the question when TTRPG folks talk about it. This feels unusual for an art theory---but is perhaps understandable in GNS's specific case.

Edwards presents his ideas as actionable: a science by which you can make better games; principles you can rely on to build your own bridge. It becomes paramount, then, that those principles be factual. Otherwise the bridge collapses.

(Edwards infamously called people who enjoyed "incoherent" games [according GNS standards] brain-damaged, but the less said about this the better.)

Also because nerds are perverts about taxonomy:

Here is a sorting hat that will let us categorise and self-select our fandoms and selves.

We love this tribal shit. "Are you a Gamist? Narrativist? Simulationist? Take this quiz! Argue in the comments!"

+

GNS is two decades old by this point.

It was the chief theoretical framework of the Forge. It guides the work of designers like Vincent Baker and Paul Czege. Game lines like Burning Wheel and its descendants are entirely informed by GNS conclusions about players and player behaviour, resulting in specific strengths, quirks, and frustrating design "solutions".

On the other hand:

From the Noughties onwards there has been any number of interesting and excellent games made without adherence to (or even knowledge of) GNS. Tabletop roleplaying games have flowered much since the Forge's heyday.

+

All that long-winded shit to get to the thought I had:

Rather than asking: "Is GNS true? Does GNS work? Does GNS accurately describe tabletop roleplaying games?"

It is probably more useful to consider GNS as a TTRPG art tradition. A school or movement or genre, that creators and designers have chosen to belong to / define themselves by / work in the lineage of.

Similar to:

Dadaism as a movement; or

Animation that falls within the anime genre due to context and lineage; or

Tanztheater / Pina Bausch's place in contemporary dance; or

How employing Method techniques results in specific styles; or

Music theory, which should be more accurately called the "harmonic style of 18th Century European composers".

But Dada is not the whole of art; nor is anime synonymous with animation. Pina Bausch is just one albeit influential choreographer; nowadays method acting has an antiquated, faintly ridiculous legacy.

Meanwhile, European music theory today is often seen as the scientific yardstick by which all music should be measured, just as nerds are wont to do with GNS vis a vis tabletop roleplaying games in general.

But we should remember that GNS is a lens, one way of considering and practicising the craft of TTRPGs. It is one lens amongst a multitude. Whether it is a good lens is up to you. Some designers have followed its precepts, and made games informed by said precepts; such games vary in quality but share a particular vibe.

A bridge built in the Moorish style isn't necessarily superior or more stable than a bridge built any other other way; but you may find it beautiful, provided you are partial to Moorish architecture.

I think that analogy works for GNS.

[ayo-edebiri]

#Guess who's the only one allowed to stay

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hii ! I wanted to ask if you could do more yandere gangster.

A/N: here's a ramble that is similar to so many other fics/imagines but its ALL I CAN THINK OF RN...

CW: kidnapping, yandere themes, murder, illicit substances mentioned, weaponry, some suggestive thots, general dark content shtuff.

Gangster! Yan who’s the right hand man to one of your city’s oldest gangs, the bosses family operating it since the prohibition era. Their main source of income back then was smuggling alcohol to different speakeasies and clubs, now mostly dabbling in the occasional shipment of opioids or small arms that they can get their hands on. Your gangster! Yan doesn’t handle that side of business, though. He’s been tasked to oversee deals, and the protection of the boss and whatever sweet treat he has on his arm for the evening.

When a ‘project’ goes haywire, he’s there to settle things. When someone needs to be taken care of, he oversees it while his boys do what they need to. And when there’s a witness to a particularly unsavory part of business, he personally sees to shutting them up. 

That’s why he didn’t have a choice but to watch you, to learn your morning routine and stare intensely when you perused the grocery isles indecisively. The boss put him up to it, to dispose of every flaw in their seamless operations; countless times he entered your backdoor, breaking the lock you had just replaced due to his previous endeavor, watching you curl up in warm white sheets and smush your face against your pillow. Standing outside wasn’t an option anymore, his shadow from the window disturbed you, and it blocked the trickle of moonlight on your dewey skin. 

Even with the small pistol in his hidden coat pocket, the crowbar he ued to pry the door open, the compulsion to rid you of what you had seen to appease his leader could not overtake the complete desire to rub his face into your chest, to have your thighs wrapped around his head like a sea of warmth, needing that earthy scent of your skin that somehow calmed his screaming heart to completely surround him. 

What drew him to you was how alone you had been-- at home, at the scene of the crime, when you were out and about. Who would miss you? Who was there to take care of you? What would be the purpose to killing you? You hadn’t even gone to the police yet, despite the millions of questionable asks you submitted to reddit and looked up online for what to do after seeing a man’s murder. 

The roughly edged gangster found it endearingly cute, so foreign to the life he had led. You had no way of stopping him if he completed what he was supposed to, no one to turn to if you suddenly found yourselves at the hands of a shady group of men who used you as a drug mule. 

Gangster! Yan knew the kind of underlings his boss employed, easy men on probation or past druggies who wouldn’t think for a minute to stop from gobbling you up on the side of the street if you just so happened to walk down the wrong alley. Seeing as you had stupidly yet to make a distinct change your route after witnessing his gangs work, it could happen any day now. 

He couldn’t let you fall prey to the men he didn’t have a leash on, nor let you continue to live in such suffocating solitude with that neutral look on your face forever. Even if it was only filled with fear from now on, from him-- he’d give you a better life than what you lived.

It was too easy to take you, too easy to drag you to his car, too easy to put you in the decent condo he had been paying for the past decade and barely came home to. Now, he had just realized, he’d have a real reason to come back home. He couldn’t just sleep the night away in shitty bars just to wake up to the next day of work. He had to take care of you, feed you, make sure you bathed. 

Gangster! Yan was almost as surprised when he gave you the cold shoulder, heartlessly teasing you for your stupidity in walking down a known drug-trade neighborhood, for not having realized that he had stalked  you every. single. Day. as you were blind to his heavy, broad shadow of scars and grimaces.

You were so quietly willing to appease him, to scoot to his lap when he demanded it with a threatening hand over his pocket, pretending as if the empty space was a weapon. “Please don’t kill me” you asked neverendingly, every meek breath expecting a slap or a shove off. But the criminal held onto you tighter, hating the reminder that you weren’t a willing pet. 

Even when your eyes faded back with ecstasy, your arms thrown around his shoulders with a grip that only a lover could offer, he saw the flinch you gave when he bent down to kiss you. 

Even with his harsh spats that he throws at you for your mistakes, his belittlement, you are his comfort doll when he’s deal with hardships for the day. When the horrible things he’s done starts to get to him and the alcohol doesn’t drown it out,  or when one of his drop-offs go to shit, you’re the one he bee-lines for for to rant to, to make you stroke him and nod at how hard he’s worked. But his possessiveness is soul-crushing. His grip is painful when he holds you at night, his kisses rough against your mouth with his chain-smoker breath and chapped lips that haven’t been touched in ages.

But with you, he’s learned to take better care of himself. He already has you, wants you in every way, but he needs you to want him, to need him. So, coming home to shower, geling his hair back like he did as a young rookie, shaving his 5 o’clock shadow, he’s made himself into the perfect, respectable man-- or wannabe bad boy. But no amount of grooming could change your perception of the blood stained gangster that kept you in a cage before you were trustworthy enough to be chained to the bed. 

“I’ve killed for you, who else could say that?” 

“Been thinkin’ bout you all day, waiting here for me. Came home as fast as I could so you wouldn’t be lonely. A nobody like you can’t be left to your own devices for too long.”

“Won’t let no other fucker get a hold of you, you’re mine-- through and through. I’ll kill us both before something seperates us.

[cut-aare]

I need to watch the movie...g

[depravitymoon]

Favorite Darling Types

Author’s Note: I have made a favorite Yandere types post before, so here’s the favorite darling types. Well, it’s more like darlings I want to see more of. I’m tired of Y/N being so generic. I know Y/N is suppose to be vanilla, but people can sprinkle in a bit of flavor, can they?

Prize Winner - Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. You are not a good person. You have done some terrible things and the Yandere is a karmic consequence of your actions. Works great with a sadistic yandere.

Triple Digit IQ - You attempt to be smart and use the situation to your advantage. Maybe even outsmarting your yandere for awhile.

Fight Back - While most darlings are captured with ease, you’re the exception. You cause a whole cat and mouse games before getting caught. Even then, you’re putting up an extremely good fight.

Ditzy/Bimbo - You’re colorblind, so you cant see the red flags. All those signs that your lover is a yandere? Nope! Can’t see them!  This one’s more for comedy, but still entertaining.

Bad Boyfriend - You have a psycho ex you want to be rid of. Too bad your hero will just be the new psycho lover and will sure to never be the ex.

[okthatsgreat]

one quick edens garden thought before i go to bed finally but i am so happy they dont make damon dispute how strong eloise is. in her ftes it is established very quickly that she can overpower him and there isnt a moment of him going "but shes a girl??/?/??1??" he just straight up goes Yeah She's Gonna Kick My Ass. she has the physical advantage and is gonna Kick my Ass. bare minimum i know but honestly thank god eloise is getting rightfully clocked as a beast

[ringzgukgak]

okok LISTEN. ALL jokes aside-

i need you to really think about how you would really respond to both of these real tattoos in real life upon seeing them on two real people

(and also please explain your reasoning i beg of you but no pressure)

[skrrtscree]

I really need to draw her more, she has a great design 🥲💗

[toxintouch]

It would be so fascinating if the cult that Unnamed was raised in is a remnant of Vere's cult from when he was being worshipped as a god.

[libraryraccoon]

How I see Twisted Wonderland

After my reblog on a post, I decided to do a post where I say what I think of Twisted Wonderland.

Spoil for the books under and 6. English isn't my first language, sorry for the bad english.

Before all, what i say in the reblog :

In the game (this is just my impression), those with magic take themselves much higher than those without magic and believe that they can't do anything.

Let me explain, in the game there are a lot of moments where Yuu's opinion is never taken into account, but also where he is almost never allowed to do anything on his own, even when he could be useful. For example, in the Masquarade event, they don't let Yuu climb the tower even though if he had, it would have been much faster. The flowers wouldn't attack Yuu because he don't have magic (if I remember well, the flower only attack people with magic and Yuu saw them like normal flowers because he don't have magic), so he would just have to go up the stairs like a normal person and then ring the bell.

And as for Yuu's opinions being often ignored, well, the entire game is an example itself. The choices have no consequences, Yuu is just there to fill the void, that's all.

And also, Crowley never listen Yuu. In book 2 he even threat Yuu for playing a detective (I dont remember exactly the book or the reason, but I remember he had threat Yuu at a moment).

Also I would just like to say that the students never had consequences for their actions (Overblot, actions before/during Overblot, Ruggie during book 2, ect..), I don't know if it's because of the social class or because they are (except Ruggie) rich, or just because Crowley is a really bad director.

And how people act with monsters too. Like, they always make fun of Grim, don't respect him, and think they're stronger than him (they do this with most of the other students, but I notice it especially with Grim). And that made me think that the monsters are maybe not really strong/smart in Twisted Wonderland (that's just a theory, I have no real proof exept how people act with Grim).

Now that it's done, I can continue.

The social class.

I think we all know the social class, but I want to add it.

From most powerful to weakest :

-Royalties (example : Malleus, Leona)

-People with money (Riddle, Vil, most of the NRC students)

-Normal people (Trey, Ace)

-Poor people (Ruggie)

For the people with magic, they also have another social class I think.

-The most powerful (Malleus)

-Powerful magic (most of NRC)

-Normal magic

-Not a lot of magic/"weak" magic (Fellow Honest)

-No magic (Gidel, Yuu/MC)

The people with "weak magic" are the one that can't pay for magic lessons.

Because, yeah, NRC is a private school, and like for all private school, you have to pay for it. The students have to pay for their food and dorm uniform, that's canon, Ruggie that haven't a lot of money have Leona' dorm uniform.

We don't know much about public magic school, we don't even know if that exist in the game. NRC, RSA and Noble Bell are all private magic school, so maybe all the magic school are private.

That's maybe for that that there is a lot of people with magic that have weak magic, because they can't have lessons for that, Fellow is a good example.

Now that the social class are done and the school too, how people with magic act.

People with weak magic are for the most angry (book 5).

But people with powerful magic ? Oh man..

They are all arrogant and think they are above everyone. Even those of the RSA in a way, but less than those of the NRC (no real proof, just my opinion that I had after the Halloween event with Fellow and the fact that they were all so disconnected from any evil things/had pink glasses).

The only one that are maybe not really arrogant are those from Ignihyde.

They are arrogant, but not that much.

Why i think that ? Cause we don't see them-

Nah, cause they all are introvert and we don't see any Ignihyde student exept Idia and Ortho.

They all are in their dorm, they never leave it. I'm pretty sure they do like Idia, a tablet going in class or a mini robot and they still are in their dorm. Only present IRL for the tests.

So yeah, I can't really have a opinion about them. But, seeing how they are described, I think they are one of the less arrogant mages.

The Black Mirror and the Mirror.

We don't know anything about it, all I have is theory.

First, I don't think they are the same.

I don't know exactly what is the Mirror, we saw it at the start and it make us come to Twisted Wonderland. That's all we know about it.

So, here's my theory :

Maybe the Mirror is a god. The god of Twisted Wonderland.

I EXPLAIN

The Mirror make us, semeone of another world, come in Twisted Wonderland.

Only semeone with a lot of power can do that, I think.

Like a god.

Especially that we don't know much about the gods, so maybe it's a god that have been forget with the time, who wants to be known again, and what could be better than bringing someone from another world ?

Or, that join a theory about the all game, it's like a judge.

For those who know the death theory, it's similar, maybe the Mirror is the judge of the death, and Twisted Wonderland a court. Like, after the third year/at the end of the NRC, depending on how our life was in Twisted Wonderland/in the court, we go to a afterlife that is either nice or bad. (Idk if it's a real theory, I just thought that after reading the death theory, maybe it's a part of the death theory that I haven't read.)

It was for the Mirror, now, the Dark Mirror.

I think we all agreed for saying that it's the mirror of the evil/beautiful queen.

We don't know much about the Mirror of the Evil/Beautiful Queen, exept that it can say who is the most beautiful. But, maybe it can also say things like how are people/their soul.

And in that case, the Mirror of the Queen and the Black Mirror are the same. But people used it differently.

Also, the Black Mirror can bring people from another place, right ?

And when it say "his home isn't in that world" (something like that), maybe all that Yuu/MC had to say was "It's [...]. Don't search it in that world." And maybe the Black Mirror will bring Yuu back home just like that.

Nah, cause he literally say It's not in this world, but that doesn't mean he can't bring him home in another world.

Idk how to explain it, sorry. I just know that Black Mirror know too much, much that we think. And i'm sure he can bring us home if we say to not search it in Twisted Wonderland but in another world.

And, in the death theory, maybe he tell who is kinder than the other. Maybe some dorms (like Ignihyde, Scarabia) are dorm with kinder soul/death than other (like Octavinelle), and the Black Mirror tell who are kinder than who by giving them dorm. (I go too far, I know, I stop.)

And for the death theory, maybe Overblots are when people are too bad.

That was all I wanted to say, others things/theory have been say by other people, I won't repeat it.

[emmyrosee]

IM GOING TO SAY THIS 😘 AND THEN IM GOING TO RUN. 🏃🏻‍♀️VERY FAR AWAY, 💃DO NOT LOOK AT ME, DO NOT PERCEIVE ME OKAY??? AVERT YOUR EYES AND FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED. I’m exposing myself here again 🤩

…so I would like to be chased… by one of our boys… yes I said OUR. 🤧 BY KUROO. THE FIRST BOY IN HAIKYUU I FELL IN LOVE WITH.

but. I want him(.) to just give you a look?? randomly??? that screams “run” EITHER when he’s in a playful mood (maybe he’ll work you up a bit first, get you into the same playful mood he’s in with some teasing. bc we all know HE’D BE SO GOOD AT THAT. SLY MF.) OR bc you’re in a super high energy mood and need to be dealt with. and you get chased around after, adrenaline SO high. what happens when you eventually get caught? who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ (he knows)

and and and he might just make it fun, if you manage to hide from him, he’d turn it into a game somehow. Literally do not look at me please. stop it, look away. I’m embarrassed for some reason. But if I’m gonna expose myself I’m at least gonna do it where I feel SAFE (your ask box). And Ik I won’t be JUDGED (bc we are of similar mind when it comes to our boys I feel like). (and maybe after the makeshift hide and go seek game there’s cuddles on the bed and super sweet kisses and just lots of softness from your big baby of a bf who just wants to have childish fun with you :((( cause he loves having fun w the love of his life ☹️) this was a mess bc for some reason when I’m sappy like this I cannot articulate what I want to say properly :(

THIS IS LONG WOW!!! and once again, NO RUSH AT ALL!!!! PUT IT ON THE BACK-BURNER ITS TOTALLY OKAY!!!! it’s just a funky little thought after all 😋

anon <3

GOD I LOVE OUR BOYFRIEND!!!!

So here’s the thing right? Here’s what’s cool about Kuroo- arguably, the only thing cool about Kuroo bc he’s a dweeb.

Basically, his entire life, he spent messing with people, but his real practice and the reason he’s so good, is because of Kenma. His first victim, but also the one who he learned the art of body language and subtleties about communication. It’s something Kenma warned you about when you first started dating, but judging by the immediate ruffle Kuroo have his hair, you know Kenma wasn’t being too serious.

So, because of the pudding head I adore so much, Kuroo knows exactly how you’re feeling regarding certain play fighting tactics, or if you’re not in the mood when he can then go gentle and just have you in his arms.

He’s cool like that.

For example, just four days ago, you clearly needed a small jostle of playful affection, some playful attention, but you were so busy to ask and just let it go. But tetsuro knew better; he could see the way your breath would hitch when he’d make you laugh, or bring you food and gently rub your back. His touch seemed to jostle you; you just wouldn’t give in.

He’s fed up, and he’s gonna make you give in, he’s made that clear.

“Hey booger,” he hums, strolling in and hooking his chin over your typing shoulder. His eyes flick to the glass of water he poured you hours ago, seemingly untouched and sweating onto the coaster. “Have you taken a break yet?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Liar.”

“Do not start with me, Tetsuro,” you mumble, putting pressure on your temples. “I just need to bang this out and be done with it. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

He goes silent. And you pause your fingers before looking over your shoulder at him.

He’s not happy.

“Did you just sass me?”

He can practically hear your heartbeat pause in your little chest. Still looking at him, you shake your head. "Are you sure? Because, like, it feels like you sassed me."

He sees the cogs in your head turning. He sees the way you're trying to fight back your smirk.

"So you can figure out when I'm sick of you."

"Gonna make you real sick of me," he snarls, and just as he makes a threatening dart towards you, you shriek and dash away, abandoning your work and searching for a place to save yourself.

Because you know Kuroo is going to save your work. And tidy up the space, and book mark your page, all before making true on his promise and sprinting after you.

And like... you're never hard to find, and that's indicator #2 that you want this more than anything.

When he finds you on the opposite side of the bed (like, seriously? you have so much better than that in the arsenal), he just manhandles you onto the bed, your smacking palms and kicking feet doing little to deter him.

“Tetsu!” You squeal, writhing uselessly under his heavy grip. His hands only tighten as he shakes you playfully, back hitting against the pillows and mattress.

“You! Are! The best! Thing! In! My life!” He chants between words, ignoring your giggles and squirming. “Stop! Sabotaging! Yourself!”

"I can't help it!" You titter, trying to bat him away as best as you can given your pinned position. "I-I-I just want things done!"

"They'll get done!" He growls playfully. then, like an absolute asshole, he buries his face in your neck and fingers into your ribs, "fucks sake, when was the last time you peed, dawg? Huh? Maybe I should just make you do it now."

"NNNAAAAOOO!" You howl, so loud his own ears hurt, but he doesn't stop his fingers, nor the nibbling of your neck and ears that're light enough to tickle but some will definitely stain your skin.

OOF BUT THEN????BU-BUT-BUT T H E N???

He lets you get away.

For one second, he pretends that the knee to his gut hurts, and he's out of commission for the next three seconds, and it always gives you enough time to scurry away to another room.

He knows you're not going back to your work set up. You're at your own mercy when it comes to needing his playful side, and he hears you down the hall, giggling in anticipation as you try to hide.

"Gettin' too old for this shit," he chuckles to himself, then strutting down the hall to look for you.

he just. i just. i he. just he i.

KERNFWIDNBWIEFBQ

[candlekiss]

Wips!!

Hey again!!

First of all— oh my god?? I didn't expect such a warm reception to my first post and I'm so so grateful to all the ppl that liked my art shsjsjjwje I'm unbelievably happy 😿💗

Second— Inspiration hit full force so I have many wips!! However color theory is kicking my ass too… and even harder than inspiration… I won't be posting until I get the hang of it. ;;

Sooo have two wips meanwhile!

Omg bike rider Ada??

Ignore the eye burning orange I swear it's not gonna stay like that for long,,

And Leon!! CW nsfw-ish? It's not meant to be nsfw at all but it contains partial nudity so just in case.

I really liked the anatomy in this one ngl...

Anyways that'll be it for now. I'll try to finish these soon, any thoughts/tips are appreciated :3

bye bye!!

[uzi-x33]

before I go to bed here’s what I think is gonna happen in the newest chapter of bsd:3 first off I think it’s gonna switch perspectives from atsushi to either Dazai or ranpo (im hoping and praying for more ranpo content I need my silly, or more soukoku I miss them) i feel like it’d be rlly interesting to see where ranpo is, is he with Poe, did he find yosano, is he with Poe and yosano and r they all with Lucy and kyouka? PLEASE I NEED ANSWERS ASAGIRI🙏🙏 if it is going to switch back to soukoku however, im expecting them to have a long heartfelt conversation (ik that’s not gonna happen and im delusional but shh) in reality I think if I’d switch to skk it would probably js be them trying to escape the prison (aren’t they still there, like bro??💀) I need my answers asagiri please 🙏😭😭 also please give me ur theories on what u think is gonna happen in the newest chapter I wanna hear them!! (Like- put them in the reblogs or in the comments idc js tell me ur theories grrrr)

that’s it! Also srry for any grammar or spelling mistakes lmao it’s 10 pm💀💀

[sentientsky]

Crowley + Attachment Style

I was talking to @actual-changeling the other day about attachment styles, and they confirmed my idea that Crowley is, contrary to popular belief, not someone with an anxious attachment style. Rather, like Aziraphale, he exhibits signs of a fearful-avoidant/disorganized attachment style (just in a slightly different and less obvious way). I’ve had this draft kicking around since September (??? October?? time is an illusion), so enjoy my silly (not-so-little) ramblings. TW // discussion of child abuse (not explicit) Okay, I've seen a couple of discussions surrounding this (cue me doing a frantic, sleep-deprived Tumblr Literature Review approx. five minutes ago), so this is just me tossing two pennies into a fountain, shrugging, and walking away. I totally see how Crowley could be interpreted as having an anxious attachment style. At the same time, as someone with a fearful-avoidant/disorganized attachment style (thanks, dad! <3), I believe there's space to explore that as a possibility.

My credentials, you ask?? Decades of trauma and an intimate knowledge of what it's like to have a disorganized attachment style (I'm WORKING ON IT, okay?? lol). Also a fuckton of research. All sources will be linked because I am a professional (&lt;- LYING). Okay, so let's do a quick crash course on attachment theory as a concept itself, and then shift into manifestations of disorganized attachment style (I'm going to call it "DAS" for short bc I'm tired). I'm doing this as a formality, because let's be honest. Would you be in this fandom without having had experienced at least some measure of childhood trauma? What is Attachment Theory? (source) "Attachment theory, in developmental psychology, [is] the theory that humans are born with a need to form a close emotional bond with a caregiver and that such a bond will develop during the first six months of a child’s life if the caregiver is appropriately responsive." There are a variety of attachment styles, each of which differently predicts how an individual will react in interpersonal situations according to how they were raised. While there are, obviously, further nuances to this, a core group of four feature most prominently:

Let's go deeper. What does it mean to have a DAS? In short, a DAS (also known as "fearful-avoidant attachment style") often comes about as a result of childhood abuse. The child relies upon the caregiver to ensure their (the child's) survival. However, when the parent is abusive (physically, emotionally, verbally, etc.), this obviously poses a threat to the wellbeing of the child. So they develop this deep-rooted sense of distrust and fear. It helps me to think of it as a flame: you want to be warmed by the heat of the fire, but if you get too close, you'll get burnt. Consequently, you're trapped in this wavering "too close", "too far" situation. One of the best explanations I've read with regards to DAS is from this source:

Separation and abandonment (though most likely to produce an organized form of attachment, such as anxious or avoidant) can lead to the establishment of a DAS:

(source) After experiencing abuse and abandonment in Heaven, and again as a Fallen angel, Crowley has, like Aziraphale, been exposed to conditions that would create this particular attachment style (for a further explanation of Aziraphale's DAS, see this post). However, as I mentioned in the above linked post,

In contrast, Crowley has a more nuanced, consequentialist view of morality. Having Fallen, having intimately known the depths of what both Heaven and Hell are capable of (e.g., his time in Hell post-1827), he isn't living with this unpredictable "parent"--he solidly understands that the existing system is fundamentally wrong.

At times, he does experience what appears to be ambivalence (or, more likely, a sense of deep-rooted loss and abandonment):

However, the Final Fifteen emphasizes that this lingering mindset is overridden by the acknowledgment of an innately harmful structure:

Having established this, what does Crowley's DAS look like + how does it differ from Aziraphale's? Well, in my research, I would posit "compulsive caregiving" plays a role. Compulsive Caregiving What is "compulsive caregiving"? It's a form of DAS that emerges as a result of specific developmental conditions. Having their needs (or QUESTIONS) ignored or else punished by a caregiver, a child may learn to "never ask for anything", and instead care for others, often sacrificing their own wellbeing/needs for the sake of the other party (see further explanations below).

(Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4)

Here, we can see how Crowley might fall into the category of "compulsive care-giving". Both he and Azi try to protect each other to a severe degree, but Crowley's compulsivity might be a bit more apparent in this regard. He's learned not to ask for the things he wants (avoidant manifestation), but he also feels a desperate need to prove himself and protect Aziraphale through compulsive caregiving (anxious manifestation). It's only with his back pressed against the figurative wall in the Final Fifteen (or on the brink of Armageddon in season 1) that he is able to say it plainly. The Push-And-Pull of DAS As has been discussed so many times previously, this idea of ambivalence also features prominently in the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale themselves. There's a constant push-and-pull in their dynamic, as evidenced below: Aziraphale refers to him as a friend, he compliments him, exists in close quarters with him, etc...

But he also pushes Crowley away and consistently reiterates the categorical black-and-white thinking of Heaven/Hell.

[Disclaimer: I acknowledge that this wavering attitude, while infuriating and unfair to Crowley, is also largely as a result of religious trauma; Aziraphale needs some serious therapy. As we see exhibited throughout the Final Fifteen, Aziraphale still believes that Heaven is, fundamentally, good (or at least holds the capacity to become good). This doesn't negate the fact that he loves Crowley, but it does impact the way he views the two of them and their relationship, causing a significant strain and eventual break in their bond].

So we have the root, we have the manifestations within the other party, but how does this DAS figure within Crowley's character itself? Manifestations of DAS in Adulthood

Speaking from personal experience, DAS can manifest in adult life in several ways. In the present day, I tend to (But not always! I'm getting better, lol) attach myself to people who are touch-and-go; who variously show me affection and disinterest (*cough cough* my ex-bsf). Often, when I felt like the other person was pulling away/withdrawing, I would also pull away. Because my caregivers flipped between rage and calm, venom-spitting hatred and comforting affection very, very quickly and very, very easily, I had to constantly be on edge, anticipating my next move and ready to go into resolution/fawning mode ("compulsive caretaking") at the drop of a hat. And that notion of push-and-pull, "never really knowing where you stand" is what I grew up thinking of as love. This pulling away in the face of perceived rejection can also point to issues with self-esteem...

SIDEBAR: CROWLEY AND SELF-ESTEEM The way Crowley is written with regards to his trauma responses is so interesting and also so real to me. We have this entity who has spent the better part of six thousand years (likely more, because we don't have a definitive timeline for the Fall) believing he is so thoroughly and utterly unwanted as to be pushed to the underbelly of the Universe, hidden away amongst sulphur and agony and absence.

Speaking as someone with ah...childhood...uh. issues (sure, let's call it that. why not?), after being told that you are disgusting, horrible, unworthy, etc. so many times, you begin to believe it. And because, as children, we're forced to rely on primary caregivers, often the only way to maintain that connection lies in the internalization of that unworthiness, to the point where it's difficult to separate you from these ideas of worthlessness. And because you've experienced it so consistently throughout your life, you also come to anticipate rejection; you look for it everywhere, feeling as though it's right around the corner. Therefore, to kind of pre-emptively avoid emotional harm (or because you feel unworthy of asking for more or for reassurance), you cauterize the figurative wound and pull away. We'll come back to this idea in a couple moments! Returning to the main point, let's look at these markers of a DAS more broadly:

(source)

Let's go through each of these, step-by-step. Again, remember, not all of these symptoms have to be present all of the time. These are the ones I see most prominently in Crowley (of course, please, please, please feel free to correct me or build on this! i'm in NO way an expert).

"You find it difficult to open up to others" + "You tend to keep conversations on the surface level because it's uncomfortable to be vulnerable"

"You have a negative self-view of both yourself and others" (mostly himself, in this case!)

"You often dissociate from your emotions" + "You withdraw when you feel vulnerable or emotional" For this one, I'm just going to invite you to read Alex's post here. They phrase it better than I ever could, lol.

SIDEBAR #2: Withdrawal + Good Omens Lockdown @yowlthinks also made an excellent point regarding something i said here. In the Good Omens Lockdown audio clip, we notice Crowley pushing the boundary line, forthrightly offering to come over to the bookshop and stay for a while at the height of the pandemic (see below):

When Aziraphale outright rejects him, Crowley recoils and quickly says goodbye, intending to set his alarm for July. Here, we see the way in which disorganized attachment operates as a fusion of both anxious and avoidant behaviours; despite wanting to be close, he pulls back immediately and (presumably) resolves not to discuss the fact that he lost his flat and is now sleeping in his Bentley. (As my former philosophy professors have tried to impress upon me so many times,) It's important we consider alternative explanations. It could be possible that this is just him respecting Aziraphale's boundaries and returning to practices that seek to remedy the whole "you go too fast for me" issue. However, this kind of behaviour occurs time and time again, establishing a pattern that goes beyond simply protecting Azi's boundaries, and may index a desire to keep himself safe through emotional avoidance. "You have a hard time self-soothing your emotions" [insert lightning scene here]. He's trying, you guys. He's trying so hard, but it's difficult (and i'd genuinely like to get a scene in s3 where he's allowed to be well and truly angry. no, i'm totally not projecting, why do you ask? what are u, a cop???)! It seems that he turns to repression in the absence of actual emotional processing or soothing (until it comes out all at once, in the case of the lightning). This makes sense, as well, considering there have been very few instances in which he's been truly comforted or soothed by others. Not having comfort modelled to him, combined with his pre-existing low self-esteem helps to illuminate why he turns to repression opposed to taking time to care for himself, etc. Broader Implications + S3 Speculation Alright, we're almost done, I promise! So we've established (or at the very least, put forth an argument for) disorganized attachment in Anthony Janthony Crowley. What does this mean in the context of where we left things off at the end of S2? From my perspective, it means that what happened was completely in-character for both of them. Aziraphale's DAS manifests in more of the traditional, hot-and-cold fearful-avoidance. For Crowley, his caretaking compulsivity finally snapped in the Final Fifteen; Heaven is one place he cannot follow, and exhausted, he walks away (only to stand out on the street, further pointing to the anxious/avoidant duality). I would argue that there was no trick, nothing in the coffee, no coded messages, etc. Rather, like humans, they are both shaped by their trauma and responded in accordance with this. (@actual-changeling has some excellent metas where they further expand on the idea that there was no trick involved in the final fifteen: x. this meta too!: x. massive credit to them, as always hehe)

What about in S3? Speaking from personal experience (because the surrounding literature wasn't super helpful haha), a disorganized attachment style must be unlearned, with a few key factors at play: Since DAS is grounded in formative experiences of volatility, the survival of the individual has to be decoupled from the preservation of connection (with family members, partners, friends, etc.); more specifically, your worth and ability to persist is not dependent on maintaining connection with another. This is incredibly difficult to unlearn when you've experienced it for a couple decades, let alone so many thousands of years. t h e r a p y (pls neil, i need an episode where it’s just Crowley going to see a psychiatrist and he breaks down crying and it’s like “oh yeah. that was really fucked up what happened to me”. again. totally not projecting! <- as always, don’t actually send stuff like this to Neil). Okay, finally. We're at the end. I apologize for the sheer length of this analysis. I had to cut it off here, because the original was going to be wayyyyy longer with more discussion/analysis/etc. However. I am TIRED. So here you go! ✨TaH DaH! ✨ (please don't yell at me ajsdlasjkd. i love azi and crowley both so much and this is just my own interpretation/opinion as someone with a disorganized attachment style lol)

[clvudii-launch42]

I just looked back at my old camp fam Gacha Club "characters" I made probably like a couple years ago, and oh god. I spelt Brooklynn's name wrong. I spelt it like "Brooklyn".

Ik this doesn't seem like such a big deal, but lately it's annoyed me sm when people spell her name "Brooklyn", and then I saw this and realized that I used to spell it like that too 😭

You guys can obviously spell it however you want, but it is with two n's, and I ain't doing that mistake no more after seeing this 😭