#shit ilya has said to me

[joanofexys]

Hi! Sorry for randomly dropping anon into ur inbox, but I’m kind of in love with ur oc’s and I was wondering if you could tell me more abt Ilya? Ik u said they’re just some guy from Penn state and for some reason that really intrigues me lol.

Never apologize I love anons and I'm so flattered you like my little guys. Also sorry this is gonna take a minute and there will be many typos cause I'm typing one handed on my laptop while eating an icecream/my cat tries to steal my icecream bar, not that you needed that info

ANYWAY litte recap on Ilya:

22 years old

5'5

he/they, transman

youngest of 4, has all sisters

Played for Penn State

Now plays for Olympic Court

Goalie

Number 7

I haven't decided on what he majored in yet

Yeah he really is just some guy. He's the only athlete really in his family. One of his older sisters ran track in high school, but otherwise their family is full of musician. Dad is a middle school orchestra teacher, mom is a music professor, his sisters all went into the arts. He can play a, quite frankly, ridiculous amount of instruments and he enjoys them all but he's not particularly passionate about it.

His parents signed him up for little league exy because he saw exy on the tv once and wouldn't shut up about it/was begging them to play. His parents just wanted all of their kids to be happy so they caved very quickly and Ilya developed an intense passion for the sport that obviously never went away.

Ilya's oldest sister (Liliya) is 7 years older than him, the other one 4 years older (Kateryna or just Kat), and the sister after (Tanya) that only a year and a half older. They're all incredibly close despite any age gaps while also very much having a dynamic of lovingly bullying each other

Ilya kind of always knew he was trans and they were always in a safe space to express it. His parents used to joke that they had "3 girls and an Ilya" and they didn't even bat an eye when as a kid he went straight for the "boys clothes" and asked to be called a prince instead of a princess and only responded to being called a boy. At school it was different, in elementary school other kids didn't care but the teachers could be weird about it, and then as a teen other kids started getting mean about it. But his parents and their sisters were always accepting and they filled their house with enough love that Ilya never thought about being closeted or pretending to be someone he wasn't.

He gets recruited to Penn State's team as their starting goalkeeper as an openly trans athlete. His team's respectful for the most part. There are some people who just don't seem to get it, but they're never outright rude or transphobic to him. There are sometimes snide remarks and something Not Cool said on accident and Ilya is always quick to correct it and most of his teammates are decent enough to apologize and try to do better

And he talks A Lot about being a trans and generally queer athlete. He's happy to be one of those people out and proud for everyone who can't be. Ilya has always, unapologetically, taken up space. Not even focused on his queerness, just in the way he exists as a person. If he's in a room you're going to know he's there and you're probably going to know their every thought as well.

They care a lot and they take everything to heart. They're very much a "don't cry cause you'll make me cry" type of person. He's much more willing to take on people's pain and share their burdens than he probably should be.

And he has zero filter. While he's absolutely paving the way as a queer athlete and he has a lot to say to the press about that his press time also has to be limited because he will just say shit. He has insulted other teams, insulted specific players, shared information that he definitely shouldn't have, said "fuck" on camera too often to keep count, and a lot more. He is keeping the Penn State vs Edgar Allan Ravens twitter discourse alive and well with all the shit that comes out of his mouth

He makes his best friend his junior year. She's a sophomore named Alice and she's a defensive dealer. Her sophomore year she comes as trans, MTF, and Ilya is the first person she tells becuase he's one of the only queer people she knows. After that they're pretty much attached at the hip and Ilya would kill and die for her. Her family isn't super accepting so he takes her home with him for the holidays. His family becomes hers and they're more than happy to add one more girl to the family.

Ilya makes court right after he graduates and it's with Jude, Em, Mara, Florian. you know the drill at this point. They're the ones I never shut up about. And I think I'll largely be repeating myself and I don't want to be annoying with that so we'll stop there

Some other fun things about Ilya though:

he never learned how to ride a bike. he will never ride a bike. fuck no (he fell over and scraped his knee once and despite all the balls to the head playing exy that was his breaking point for some reason and he never got on a bike again)

he's a cat person

he teaches Florian ASL and it's the main they talk to each other cause Florian likes to go nonverbal

they were such a huge fan of Jude it took everything in them to not be starstruck when the two first met

the two instruments they stuck with were the violin and the piano

they have an addiction to strawberries

is almost always playing jazz music on a vinyl when they're home/have people over

he has a shitty autograph and Flor has begged him to "get better handwriting" since he signs so much stuff but he's fine with it being an unreadable disaster (Florian's autograph in comparison is gorgeous)

he is an unapologetic foxes stan after they win finals

[stinkrascal]

—

TRANSCRIPT

picture one ilya: SHIT! PISSFUCK! GODDAMN IT ALL TO HECK! anastasia: are you winning, buttmuncher? ilya: this game sucks butt!

picture two caspian: ...that's the first game? you're at tree tops, aren't you?

picture three ilya: i can't beat these stupid monkeys! and i can't find the last stupid dragon!

picture four caspian: it's on the island. ilya: i can't get there! caspian: gotta go backwards on the speedways. you can glide to it. it's counterintuitive as fuck—oh, sorry.

picture five ilya: that's okay. i know adults get to say cuss words. momma says i can only say one cuss word a day, but sometimes, i say more. caspian: straight up.

picture six ilya: hey mr. caspian, you said you know how to find the last dragon, right? can you beat this level for me?

picture seven caspian: um—sure.

picture eight ilya: okay! wait right here! i'll be right back!

picture nine anastasia: sorry about ilya. he's such a dork. caspian: no, he's cool. got a good taste in games.

picture ten anastasia: i think he likes you. it's actually kinda cute.

picture eleven caspian: ...

picture twelve ilya: mr. caspian! caspian: hi. you don't have to call me that. ilya: yeah, but i'm polite. except i lied to you, so i'm sorry about that. caspian: oh? ilya: yeah, the truth is, i'm actually an artist. caspian: oh. that's cool.

picture thirteen ilya: here, i drew this myself, but you can keep it. caspian: wow. thanks. it looks good, little dude. ilya: yeah!

picture fourteen caspian: here's your controller. ilya: whoa—you beat it already?! whoa... you're a real gamer... hey, mr. caspian, are you dating my sister? caspian: um—no.

picture fifteen anastasia: stop being annoying, you little shit! ilya: i'm not annoying! do you think i'm annoying mr. caspian? caspian: no. ilya: ha! see, buttmuncher? hey, do you know what lyme disease is? caspian: yup. ilya: yeah. i got it last year. it sucked butts. but i'm better now. caspian: that's rough.

picture sixteen ilya: yeah, but i'm tough now. hey mr. caspian, do you have ADHD? anastasia: [ laughing ] caspian: dunno. ilya: yeah, 'cause i got ADHD, and momma makes me take medicine for it so i do good in school. except i hate math. math sucks bad, and isn't good. caspian: true.

[whump-tr0pes]

Aqua Sancta

Lux in Tenebris masterlist here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 of a (no longer little) arc of Dee having a fever

This comes about a month or so into the First Recovery arc.

Author’s note #1: Thank you so much to the kind reader who left a wonderful comment on this fic on AO3 and singlehandedly resurrected this arc after almost two years. People don’t realize how some kind words can inspire someone to write again even when the Juice(TM) isn’t flowing like it used to.

Author’s note #2: This chapter is heavily inspired by a piece written in response to this prompt. I was so sad to discover that the blog has since been deleted, taking with it one of the whump pieces that absolutely got me my start.

Content warning: sickfic, fever, delirium, demon whumpee, past torture, nonsexual nudity, misunderstanding whump, language whump, past religious abuse, religious themes, past burns, ‘it’ as a pronoun, past drowning, manhandling, begging for death

~

The demon was screaming. Ilya had never heard such a sound in their life. It was as if an animal was being torn apart, horrible broken wails piercing their skull and making their skin crawl. They forced themself not to slap their hands over their ears, forced themself instead to hold their hands out to the demon that was crouched against the bathroom door.

It – he – was naked, bathed in sickly sweat, his eyes wild and fixed on the bathtub filled with water. Gooseflesh rippled over his body as he huddled and twisted away from Ilya. His fangs were descended and bared, but he cowered away, fingernails scrabbling at the door. Dara stood at Ilya’s shoulder. She drew in a deep breath, let it out. The smell of ozone momentarily washed away the smell of sweat and fear in the bathroom.

“Dee, please,” Ilya breathed. “We aren’t going to hurt you. You just… you just need a bath, Dee. You’re sick. We just need to bring your fever down.”

Fevered eyes locked on Ilya’s.

“Non intellego,” Dee sobbed, voice strained and broken. “Non intellego, obsecro ignosce me, obsecro, numquam ego facito iterum, obsecro dice m-mihi quid feci iniuriam, numquam ego facito iterum—”

Ilya glanced at Dara. “What—”

“It’s begging again,” Dara said through her teeth.

Ilya took a hesitant step forward. “Dee, no—”

They were cut off by a heart-rending shriek. “NON. Non facio… Si vis recitare verba tui ordinis, ero… Est…? Pater noster, qui es in cœlis—”

“We don’t need you to recite the goddamn Pater Noster, demon,” Dara said through her teeth. “Is that what they…? Jesus Christ…”

“Wh-what?” Ilya breathed.

“—sanctificetur nomen tuum: Adveniat regnum tuum—”

“Stop,” Dara ordered. The demon’s recitation ceased, but it continued to whimper and sob with every shuddering exhale.

“What is it?” Ilya said, glancing between Dee and Dara. “What is that?”

“It’s the Lord’s Prayer,” Dara said darkly. “It’s part of the catechism. Normal shit for us, but… if demons are around when that stuff is said, it hurts them. And if he was forced to… recite it… Jesus fuck, is there nothing these motherfuckers didn’t do to him…”

“Obsecro,” Dee sobbed. “Miserere, angelus virtute, faciam quod vis, sed obsecro, ni aqua sancta, faciam QUID…”

“Shush,” Dara snapped. She rubbed her temple. “It’s probably almost as painful for him to recite the catechism as it was to be burned by the holy water.”

“Oh, no,” Ilya whispered. They pressed their hands to their mouth. “Dee…”

The demon looked at them blankly, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Obsecro,” he rasped. “Obsecro, virtute.”

Ilya took a shaking breath. “So what do we…?”

“I think we just… do it,” Dara said. Her jaw worked. “It’s not going to understand until it’s actually in the water. Not in its current state of mind.”

“H-his,” Ilya breathed, trembling. They blinked tears away and swallowed hard. “H-he said that they… m-made him drink it, too.”

Dara could have been made of stone beside him – a statue on one side of the room, a snarling creature on the other. An eternity seemed to pass before she shook herself and muttered, “I’m going to slaughter those motherfuckers someday.”

Ilya spared a glance at her. “But—”

“Let’s just handle this right now,” she said with a bite to her voice. “Let’s just… get them… him… feeling better. We need to get this fever down. It might be why he’s acting like this in the first place.” She adjusted her soft leather gloves. Ilya nodded took a step towards the demon.

His slitted pupils blew wide. He snarled and snapped at them.

Ilya gasped and fell a step back. Even though there was still a full step between them, there had been power in the bite.

“D-Dee,” Ilya breathed.

Dara huffed out a breath. “That’s enough,” she grumbled. She strode forward and seized the demon with her gloved hands.

The demon let out a scream that lanced Ilya down to their soul. They could do nothing but watch as Dara took Dee’s wrists in one hand and wrapped her other arm around his chest, holding him tightly against her so that he could not turn his head far enough to bite her. He twisted and writhed in her grip.

“NON,” he shrieked. “NON, OBSECRO!” He snapped uselessly at the air and kicked out at nothing.

“Dee, it’s… it’s okay,” Ilya said weakly, reaching out a hand to comfort him.

“No,” Dara snapped. “He’ll bite.” Ilya drew their hand back. Dara effortlessly carried Dee, screaming and writhing, to the bath.

“OBSECRO, OBSECRO, NECA ME, EGO MORTI DE MANIBUS LIBENTER, OBSECRO VIRTUTE, OBSECRO.” Ilya’s head was throbbing with Dee’s screams. Dara lowered Dee over the bath. He drew his legs up to his chest, suddenly trying to cling to her. He sobbed his heart out and tried to bury his face against her shoulder. She held him out away from her, avoiding his teeth.

“Dammit,” she breathed.

“Just do it,” Ilya said flatly. Their chest ached, but they forced themself to look at Dee. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with them over Dara’s shoulder.

“Ilya,” he croaked. “Help me.”

Ilya bit their lip and looked away. Dara held the demon out away from her and quickly lowered him into the lukewarm bath.

The demon convulsed with a scream when he hit the water. Bathwater spilled over the side and onto the tiles. Dara kept a firm grip on his wrists and on the back of his neck as he scrambled to escape the bath.

Ilya rushed forward and fell to their knees beside the tub, no longer caring about the risk of Dee’s fangs. Dee’s hands were balled into terrified fists in Dara’s grip, but Ilya covered his hands with their own.

“Dee,” they said urgently. “Dee, look at me. Feel the water. Is it burning you?”

Dee whimpered and found Ilya’s eyes, confused and frightened out of his mind. He shivered under Dara’s hands and froze. Ilya could tell that her grip on the back of his neck would leave bruises.

“Careful, Ilya,” Dara said through her teeth.

“I am being careful,” they said back, quelling their anxiety, the anger that flared when they saw how tightly Dara was still holding Dee even though he was no longer fighting her. They reached out a shaking hand and stroked it through Dee’s hair. It was soaked with sweat and splashed bathwater. “Dee,” they murmured. “It’s okay. We would never, never hurt you.”

Dee’s throat worked. He blinked, his chest still heaving. Slowly, slowly, he pushed his head against Ilya’s hand. The same rumbling sound Ilya had heard before filled the small room.

Dara blew out a breath. Dee turned away from it and blinked as if she had breathed cigarette smoke in his face in the close quarters. As slowly as Dee had moved towards Ilya, Dara released his wrists and neck. There were bruises where her fingers had been. Ilya swallowed hard and tried not to look.

All at once, Dee slumped against the side of the bath. Dara’s hand shot and seized his hair as if she was about to restrain him again. Ilya shot her a glare, and she returned the look. Ilya quailed and shifted their eyes away. Dara released Dee’s hair and stood.

“I’m staying in here,” she said firmly. “In case he… gets frightened again.”

“That’s fair,” Ilya said. They gave her a grudging nod. “I get it.”

“Eva is changing the sheets right now,” Dara said. “And after we get him back in bed, we can feed him. I think that will help a bit.”

“Yeah,” Ilya said distractedly as they drew their fingers through Dee’s tangled and sweaty hair.

“Ilya,” Dara said, and Ilya looked back up at her. Her brow was furrowed. “It… it is dangerous. You know that.”

“He,” Ilya said as they set their jaw. They looked back down at Dee. He was shivering violently, but he seemed so exhausted that he could barely hold onto the side of the tub.

“He,” Dara corrected. “Sorry. Old habits. But my point still stands.”

Ilya nodded. “I know,” they whispered, and the admission burned their tongue like guilt. “But he’s dangerous because he’s scared. And I…” Finally, they raised their gaze to Dara again. “If I can, if it’s… possible, for him, I want to show him he’s safe. And that he doesn’t have to be scared anymore.”

The demon under Ilya’s hands moaned softly and heaved a wracking cough.

  Translation of the Latin lines here:

“I don’t understand,” Dee sobbed, voice strained and broken. “I don’t understand, please forgive me, please, I will never do it again, please tell m-me what I did wrong, I will never do it again—”

…

They were cut off by a heart-rending shriek. “NO. I don’t… If you want me to recite the words of your order, I will… Is that…? Our Father, who art in Heaven—”

…

“—hallowed by Thy Name: Thy Kingdom come—”

…

“Please,” Dee sobbed. “Have mercy, virtue, I’ll do whatever you want, but please, not the holy water, I’ll do ANYTHING…”

…

The demon looked at them blankly, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Please,” he rasped. “Please, virtue.”

…

“NO,” he shrieked. “NO, PLEASE!” He snapped uselessly at the air and kicked out at nothing.

…

“PLEASE, PLEASE, KILL ME, I’LL DIE AT YOUR HAND GLADLY, PLEASE VIRTUE, PLEASE.” Ilya’s head was throbbing with Dee’s screams. Dara lowered Dee over the bath. He drew his legs up to his chest, suddenly trying to cling to her. He sobbed his heart out and tried to bury his face against her shoulder. She held him out away from her, avoiding his teeth.

Continued here

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[morgana-ren]

I'm starting to think Astarion is your golden child in this AU. He's always seems to be descrobed as the level headed mature one compared to the others! I know thats not true, So let's dirty him up a bit. Give me some vile gross tidbits about your version. Give me some violent delights about this boy

Oh god, you are RIGHT. He is actually the golden boy for the funniest reason.

Hilariously enough, it's because he has a lot of love and support and affection from his brothers. His trauma is acknowledged, and he was he most open to working through it, and he has a lot of support for a work in progress mentally. He was able to talk about it and although Corvus and Reaves and Ilya are very toxic in some ways, toxic masculinity with each other isn't it. They'll happily love and support him. Corvus especially is very good at caring for someone when he loves them, and he loves Astarion and his chosen 'family' to the point of embarrassment on his part. Part of taking Astarion under his wing and making him his responsibility was helping him deal with his trauma, and he acknowledged that, and he did it. It was important to him.

Because of this, Astarion ended up a bit... Healthier than everyone. He had somewhere else to focus his sadistic tendencies rather than on himself. He's still a complete bastard, but it's not trauma-fueled.

Now, it's a double-edged sword, because the people helping him weren't exactly healthy. He worked through it, but uh.. aside from a lot of talks with his brothers, it was very much not in a healthy way. That being said, he's one of the only ones who has achieved his revenge, taken back control of his life, and is genuinely content with the way things are. Cazador is dead, he has taken back his agency, and he has worked through his issues.

He has control of his body, his life, and who he keeps around him. It didn't make him a compassionate, and kind person (good luck with the present company) but it made him healthier and less vindictive. It made him capable of rational, healthy thinking when needed. He understands people better. He can understand plight and trauma.

He has to be the voice of reason because everyone else is still plagued by their issues. Everyone else is still, in one way or another, still actively suffering.

Corvus's 'father' is still alive in a lot of the aus, and he cannot rest and cannot be complacent while he is alive. That is his living nightmare. He still lost everyone he loved because of his 'father'-- his siblings, his true parents, people he chose to love, etc. He was literally put through hell and came out forged in fire. He's still angry and ambitious and suffering underneath all that domineering, hateful shit. He wants the throne because that is the only way to end it. His 'father,' his fear, his endless cycle of hate. He feels like with all the power, that is literally the only time he will be safe and will have enough power to keep everyone he loves safe-- and he buries that underneath power hungry bullshit. It's part of why he turned Astarion into a fully honed vampire lord weapon-- so he could protect himself because he loves him. Corvus very much is suffering underneath all of that ballsy veneer. Don't get me wrong, he's a son of a bitch, but it stems from intense trauma. He became this way because he needed to for survival and the survival of everyone he loves. He cannot rest until he feels safe, and he is so paranoid at this point-- even through all this power-- I don't know if he ever fully will without a lot of working on himself. It is tied in to who he is as a person, his theological beliefs, all of it.

Reaver never ever dealt with anything. He lost the two loves of his life, inadvertently abandoned his children, and became a selfish, wretched motherfucker to cover his overwhelming pain.He suffers consistent night terrors and cannot be alone with himself, self medicating and killing to soothe the agony of it. He accidentally killed one wife, and then he watched another woman he loved wither and die and refuse to stay alive with him because he was such a bastard that they were literally ideologically opposed because of who he made himself. It was his own fault and he cannot face that. He killed everyone he loved, all of his family, all of his friends, all of them accidentally but still selfishly and foolishly and to cope with that, he has to lean into being a cold, unhinged, ruthless murderer. He believes that, aside from his brothers, he will spend eternity alone, with him passing the world by as an immortal monolith and plague of humanity and that the only thing that matters is temporary hedonistic pleasure because it's all he has. He has given up on every being truly happy. He does not want a wife, or children, or any legacy but death that is his Industry and his gun. He does not want anything else that will pass on without him or inevitably see who he is. He has made his existence a giant flashing warning sign. A harbinger of pain and suffering and a warning to keep the fuck away or you too will die. Pleasure and death is the only constant. He was already a bastard when he met Corvus. He has stayed one out of sheer stubbornness because unpacking it all just might kill him, but they do get him to open up occasionally.

Ilya never dealt with anything. To put it simply, he died in his prime trying to prove himself, and never let that go. When he died, he went hollow. He went straight to work in the hells and that just made him worse. Seeing the worst that reality had to offer and having his own experiences to boot. He realized that nothing truly means anything and that anything that has ever mattered was either taken away or abandoned him. Even death cannot spare you pain. The only person he loved, he will never see again, and even in death, there is no release. The only certainty is pleasure and that is all that matters. He came to a similar conclusion as Reaver. He makes a very rare exception for his brothers (and truthfully he expects them to abandon him later as well to be completely honest,) but he became extremely averse to relationships and any form of love and care because it ends up stabbing him and causing more pain than if he had just.. stayed away. He is in a self-imposed bastard isolation chamber. He will outlive everyone. He will lose everyone. It always blows up in your face, even if he doesn't outlive them. He finds happiness in shallow, foolish things, and he is staring down the barrel of eternity, same as his brothers, with no true love and experience waiting for him. He thinks that this is all there was and all there will ever be. He will not find love, or happiness. It will always leave him in the end. The only thing that he has are things he can control wholly.

Corvus and Ilya? They went through literal hell. Manifestations of fear and the horrible wretched things that made them who they are. They had to be there, but don't think it didn't impact them.

Reaver? He did this to himself. But he is so far gone, so past the point of being able to heal, that any attempt would probably unwind him. His wounds are scars he would have to cut open to restitch and reset himself.

Asto though? Asto's wounds were fresh. They were still there. Corvus found him, gave him the catharsis of revenge, and then helped him take back his autonomy. Gave him the agency of complete choice. Pushed off his seduction attempts once he understood just how bad things were. Helped set him right and realize that he didn't have to do this, and this his body, his mind, his personage are entirely his own. It wasn't too late for him. Corvus made sure to ensure that he never had to do that again. If he never wanted to touch another person, he never had to. Not him, not Reaver, not Ilya, not a single soul. Asto put in the work to be better and they helped him along the way.

Their love was not conditional. He helped him get the means to protect himself from ever being a slave again, and unleashed him. Completely untethered. No conditions. Just love and care for someone. He didn't expect his soul. He didn't expect anything in return. He just wanted him to be okay-- a rare show of selflessness for Corvus, mostly because he saw himself in Asto at first. And then he grew to genuinely love him.

All of them are suffering. But Astarion's demons? They're dead. He got his revenge. He got his time to heal. He has people who love and care about him. He has had time to work through it all.

That made him the inadvertent reasonable one. He hates it so much, but sometimes he must be the rational one and the voice of reason because everyone else is so utterly broken. They take shit too far. They have difficulties acting like normal, reasonable, rational adults and making normal decisions. Asti-boy had time to work through a lot of his bullshit, and he's just a bastard cause.. he can be. He enjoys it. It's the way he lives. There's very few unaddressed, deeply rooted reasons left. It's just how he likes to live.

Don't get me wrong, he very much is a twat. He is. Is absolutely is. He's not squeaky clean or level headed by any definition of the word. Any at all.

But when it comes to the others, he is, in the strangest way, the 'oldest' and 'most mature'-- (even though llya is technically the oldest if you want to get very strange and technical, but it depends how you quantify 'age' because he died and just sort of resumed living as a fiend, with Reaver following, and then technically Asto, with Corvus having more life experience and only being slightly behind in numbers.)

So when it comes to gross tidbits, I need a little bit... more to work with. He's just as gross as they are. He's very much a 'part of the group' and is really only rational when all else fails or something is going very wrong. He absolutely will join in the chaos and be a prick when he wants to-- and he always wants to.

What kind are you looking for?

There was the 'Asto sleeps with Corvus's fiance' debacle. The 'Asto proposed to the girl first to steal her' debacle. The 'Asto is not allowed around weddings' bit. There's the 'Asto becomes the terror of a small village and becomes a permanent babayka (not to be confused with baba-yaga) for them' incident. Like he's been a real shitheel for years. There are fewer examples of him being level headed than there are of him being a twat. If you're looking for specifics, I got 'em.

Like he is absolutely still a shithead. He's just a bit more... put together than the others sometimes.

[sydmarch]

ok @minetteskvareninova & @caleblandrybones as promised here's everything i can find on the filming of heaven knows what & the whole "pretending to be homeless" thing. surprisingly after not finding any of the old articles i remember reading in my reblogs the first mention of it i managed to find was actually in a more recent interview i was just reading for funsies & didn't expect to be relevant here:

Though he has no formal Method training, Jones harks back to that tradition – especially in this era of actors as bland, gym-pumped corporate ambassadors. He was recommended to intensity merchants the Safdie brothers for the role of Ilya, the blade-hurling junkie in their 2014 heroin memoir Heaven Knows What on the basis that: “He will do what you need him to do in terms of immersing himself.” He hit the New York streets to understand the vagrant’s life. “I was panhandling a little bit and made $150 in a day.” You suspect there may have been the odd Landry Jones fan among the donors. He didn’t, though, as some have speculated online, go as far as shooting up as part of his preparation: “I worked with Malcolm McDowell [on Antiviral] and he told me: ‘You don’t need to do that shit. You can just be an actor.’”

this interview doesn't really get into his experience staying on the street but is kid of like a precursor to the experience that i found interesting bcus i'd actually never read about their first time meeting before:

So you met him in person for the first time when he arrives for the shoot? Josh Safdie: Yes. His agent asked us to put him in a fancy hotel and stuff. We rolled up to the hotel [that first night].

Ben Safdie: Everybody [from the cast] ended up staying at that hotel soon enough.

Josh Safdie: Yeah, he had a lot of people in that room. Everyone from the street was in his hotel room, they were throwing bottles out the window. So, we pull up to this stoop, and he was sitting in front of the hotel and asked immediately, “Why am I staying at this hotel?” And we were like, “Well, because your agent said…”

Ben Safdie: He said, “I thought you guys were real.”

Josh Safdie: “I thought this was going to be like a real situation. Where are Ari and Ilya staying?” It was about five degrees out, and I said, “Well, because it’s so cold, they stay at this Internet café on Eldridge.” He goes, “I’m going there.” I said, “Well, let’s hang out first.” We took him over to Sean’s house, and we watched a bunch of movies. And then I dropped him off back at his hotel and said, “Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to Ari and Ilya.”

But he didn’t go back to his room. He went and found the Internet café and got time on a computer, and stared at Ilya, the real Ilya, while he was passed out. He had known what he looked like, so he just stared at him and watched how he slept and everything. Arielle wasn’t there that night … Then the next day, I introduced him.

Ben Safdie: That first meeting, we were all sitting at a McDonald’s, and Caleb was just kind of witnessing Ari and the real Ilya. He was very careful not to say anything or do anything — he was just watching them. And, for me, that’s when I realized that he was going to be able to do it, because of the way he was watching. Every once in a while he would say something; he knew what to say to get Ilya on his side, not that it was phony in the slightest — he just knows people. That’s what you’d hope from an actor. He would say things and slowly work his way into the world.

also "At this point, Caleb was fully in costume, looked a lot like Ilya. He showered once, the entire shoot, maybe. He smelled horrible." lmao the dedication.

this one also isn't the one i was looking for where they actually talk about his experience prepping for the role but it does get mentioned:

Benny: I heard that on Contraband he got arrested and cost production a lot of money because he was sitting in jail for three days. For Heaven Knows What, he was upset that we gave him a hotel room. He wanted to stay on the streets immediately with everybody. He’s like, “If I’m going to be playing a kid on the streets, I want to be living with them.” Eventually, he found them and hung out in the streets. But when they found out he had a hotel room, everybody went back to his hotel room and he kind of fit in perfectly. You could see him observing and understanding everything.

i SWEAR back in like 2015 i remember reading another interview where they actually talked directly to caleb about his time filming but i cannot fucking find it & i've dug through literally every interview i was able to find for this movie. also totally disregard what i said in my tags earlier about "wasn't it filming for this when he met katya" bcus once i used my brain cells for 2 seconds i realized that doesn't make any sense timeline wise so it wasdefinitely a different time he looked homeless ig (lmfao???) bcus i distinctly remember him saying she thought he was homeless & didn't believe he was an actor but i will be attempting to dig up that interview later rn i need a break from looking at screens bye

[apple9pie]

rule of wolves utterly devastated me (AFFECTIONATE). THE ABSOLUTE GRIP LEIGH BARDUGO HAS ON ME IS CONCERNING

that being said, i gave it 4 stars, just bc the ending felt a little off? like there were some "plotholes" or things that didn't really make sense to me?

1 - they have been at war with fjerda the entire time, and now nina is essentially soon-to-be QUEEN OF FUCKING FJERDA. felt like this shouldve DEFINITELY had more focus, because it would change the dynamic between ravka and fjerda completely. LIKE. THEY HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TYPE OF SHIT FOR SO MANY YEARS. AND WHEN WE GET IT, WHERES THE FANFARE??? ESP ON NIKOLAI, ZOYA AND GENYA'S PART???

2 - personally i was very confused with nina's decision to not only assume the position of a monarch but to also live the rest of her life basically IN THE FORM OF MILA. all i can focus on is that SHE IS STILL IN A DISGUISE. ILYA HAS NEVER SEEN HER REAL FACE???? surely this cant be such a simple, easy decision?

3 - THEY RLY BROUGHT THE DARKLING BACK FOR ANOTHER ROUND LMFAO. honestly not even complaining abt this, his chapters were pretty intriguing to read, but i do have to say, i was kinda hoping we were done with him once and for all.

4 - NOW THIS IS WHERE I REALLY AM COMPLAINING. WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK IS JARL BRUM NOT DEAD. I CANNOT TAKE THIS SHIT ANYMORE, I WANT TO SEE THAT MAN BURN ON A STAKE. AFTER SO MANY MENTIONS ABT HIS HISTORY WITH NINA ETC, WE DESERVED A BLOODY ENDING TO THAT PIECE OF SHIT. I DONT GIVE A SHIT IF HES A "GOOD" FATHER OR WHATEVER. I WANT TO SEE NINA FUCKING RIP HIS HEART OUT.

somone pls lmk if ur seeing what im seeing, bc i might be forgetting some things (esp regarding points 1 and 2). POINT 4 STILL STANDS, ILL DIE ON THAT HILL, NO MATTER WHAT.

[lady-grace-pens]

FOAD Excerpt [9]

Holy shit it’s been 3 months since I shared a raw excerpt. I just hit 70k and it’s my birthday so here y’all go. Where I’m at right now is spoiler station so it was rather challenging deciphering what to post, but luckily my current scene provides for excellent material!

Emily and the gang travel to her childhood home for Secret Plot Reasons, which stirs up a ton of conflicting emotions and leads her to talk with her terrible mother.

Enjoy!

Taglist: @isabellebissonrouthier @wordwizards @flowerprose @serafyyn

I stand before the mausoleum of my childhood: a quaint, unassuming Victorian mano more humble on the outside than in. Hell, the guts may as well be decked out in a string of pearls.

Cal and the rest skip up the stairs with a merry gaiety I can’t understand. My eyes strain themselves at the base of this skyscraper. What little sun we’ve been given is blotted out by the roof. The severity of the task I’ve asked myself to do robs something of my spirit that I can’t identify, let alone pray for a chance of getting it back.

The porch groans from the weight of my first step. The floorboards stick to my feet. As punishment, as I breathe in that familiar scent of potting soil and paint, my first dose of memories is injected into my bloodstream. Cal and sweating glasses of fresh lemonade, MawMaw, hot biscuits dripping with butter and honey. Midnight longings. Fear, heartache, failed efforts, rage both misguided and justified.

I haven’t been here since college. Not even to visit. If we require something here, Cal is our faithful carrier pigeon. Frankly, I believe Mother is able to stand her more. It’s just a theory, but I’d understand if it’s true. Her face, her presence, her voice, Cal is nothing short of round edges. That being said, Mother is distant to us both. It’s no wonder why I was so eager to escape into university the summer following my graduation.

Cal’s hand melts off my back. Ilya’s well-meaning smile is blurred in my vision. Pierre stops at my side. He steals my hand with his own weighty grasp. Only he refuses to budge until I step through the threshold before us: an imposing black portal teeming with ghosts of events I can’t exercise.

Holy intent or not, his expectant eyes grate my shoulder. My legs are porcelain as are my lungs. If Matthieu wants a doll, he’s earned one. Pierre must force me through.

From there, they settle into the living room. Cal fetches iced tea, Ilya analyzes each detail of the decor, and Pierre flings himself onto the emerald loveseat, channeling the blasé sophistication of Amory Blane.

Cal returns sooner than she left. One could count it as a blessing, but it means so little to me. I’ve been stricken dumb. I don’t know what to do with myself. The glass she hands me slips from my fingers yet somehow ends up on the coffee table flawlessly intact. Their muttering conversation evidently sparks an agreement, for Cal and Ilya scatter upstairs, leaving Pierre and I to fend for ourselves.

He contents himself on the loveseat, his feet thumping softly against the wooden frame. It’s a vintage reproduction, following the style of the rest of the house. Dark wood, blackened hallways, soulless false grandeur hindering the value of each object.

Potted plants somehow thrive in the cheap yellow lighting of dingy chandeliers. Ravenna handles this aspect infinitely greater. Hideous carpet whispers secrets from the bedrooms and the wallpaper glistens. It seems absolutely everything has some sprawling floral pattern, no matter how subtle.

I skim the edge of a dresser that never housed anything save for untouched sewing supplies, bills, and crayons. Family portraits—mostly distant relatives—leer in their tacky golden frames. Chipping paint and a cocktail of judgment. The funny thing is, I can’t recall having a single conversation with any of these people. Still, their portraits hang…

A hand touches my shoulder. I turn. Pierre’s grin glitters through the shade of his rich brown curls and beard. His presence is a tether to my consciousness, drawing me out of whatever daze I was plagued with. The warmth of his presence bleeds through his laughter.

“Hey. There you are. I’m gonna go raid the pantry for snacks, do you want any?”

“No, just—um… Mother always kept these chocolate oranges in the door of the fridge—”

“Up up up,” Pierre brings a finger to my lips. “Say no more.”

With this, he waltzes into the other room.

The air in this house has always been stale, but without Pierre, I recognize it for what it truly is. Loneliness. The sort that groans and becomes indistinguishable from a twice broken limb. Thumps and creaks beyond those made by Cal and Ilya are simple extensions of that. Houses are built to become homes. This one has failed in its purpose.

As I ascend the stairs to the second floor hallway, I question whether or not this is true. The deep plum walls are barely visible due to the massive array of photographs spanning across four generations, stopping at my great grandparents. Goofy spells, birthdays, weddings, obituaries stashed in corners. Clear evidence of the love that once held these floorboards together.

Is it possible to feel such a strange connection to a place? A mixture so rich with nostalgia, yet equal parts loathing?

I stop by one in particular. My mother in the 60s, posing with her first car. My grandmother narrates the tale associated with that picture, as she told it many times before.

Momma never wanted to be a farmer’s daughter, but she was one anyway. She tried to escape to Vegas after high school, but it wasn’t too long before some bum from Arkansas dragged her back home on his way to Mississippi. Her hair and clothes were a ragged mess. To this day, the thought of her trying something that desperate is… obscene.

The light to her bedroom is a beacon at the end of the hallway. Think not of a sailor’s homecoming, but a Lovcradftian divinity indifferent to her power.

Suppose I should say hello. She is my mother. It’s been a while since either of us shared a glance, god forbid a conversation.

This idea directs my every step. It strings me further and further along until I’m breathing in the rotten grains of the door.

“Come in, Emily,” she calls, expectant. “That is you, isn’t it?

“Yes Mother.”

My acknowledgement came out closer to a raspy breath than a firm declaration. This will likely bite me in the ass later.

I open the door. Stepping beyond the entrance feels like an invasion, so I glue myself to the paneling at my hip. As our eyes connect, I’m reduced to a husk awaiting the slightest hint of an impression. Mother, with her silver curls, sharp features, and eyes of bullets, spares me a laconic glance over the brim of her latest bodice-ripper novel. That's more than enough time for her to formulate an opinion.

“God, you look like me.”

The simplest of sentences, yet it casts my gaze down to the floor in burning shame. I wrap my arms around my torso.

[masked-disciple]

im sure someone has asked this but 696

#696 is delightfully, wonderfully, holy-shit-I-didn't-realize-how-little-art-I-had-of-him-what-the-fuck Hero of Wind and Voices, Tarim 'Laqir' Nakoshima, chosen Hero of Kharos! Pictured here as his recolor.me from 2020, a very bad drawn image from 2014, and a base art from 2012. As you can see, he's always had Generic Anime Protagonist brown hair and green eyes, and has always had that bright-red and bright-cyan motif around him.

When @castcuraga decides he is ready to open commissions, I will give him somewhere between 150-300$ CAD and he will do a fully painted picture of Tarim for me, and it will be glorious, and it will force me to draw a full reference of him, which tbh he really needs.

I know I said 'a few facts'. You're getting a fucking infodump and you will like it, Tsuko-my-dear, because Tarim is one of my oldest OCs, and if I'm not mistaken, my oldest OC that I still use. I think... I'm pretty sure the only older OC that I have is Tranq (Shadow Tranquility is her full name, and I have no idea if she's ever coming back, I won't rule it out).

Tarim has been with me for over a decade, and I love him, and he deserves the world. He was the protagonist for Vocal Paradise, my very first NaNoWriMo novel in 2012. I won that year. I was so proud of myself. He came back for 2017 in Starlight ~ Beginning of the End, which I should reread because the only info I apparently put on NaNo itself was "tarim has to leave the vamps because shit blew up, naitofiara is there," so 10/10, me.

2018, Firstlight ~ The Cultist's Blade opened with "Tarim Nakoshima is dead, the Reihe having consumed him after a Fragment left him in the wrong timeline. [..] Thus, a new group of Twilight Warriors must be chosen." Three years later, Tarim makes his as-of-right-now final appearance in 2012 with Dragonsword ~ His Last Night's Requiem as not only the owner of the titular requiem, but "Not so long after the initial fall of Kagiru Network, two strange young men appear in the middle of the Salem Academy courtyard. One looks Tarathiel Draconis in the eye, tosses her the necklace he had around his neck, and fades to nothingness." which is a pretty metal way to die.

So, now that I've established Tarim's been around for fuckin ages and likes haunting the narrative, who is he?

Tarim is Maradeim! Originally called the Cherchant, which is French for 'searching', because when I was 12 I was learning French so a great deal of the language made it into my writing. The Maradeim are from Ilya Loremmi, the oldest of my original worlds (and very much still a part of the Aethel!), and specifically from the city-state of Isuparingu, which I think is a google-translated-romaji corruption of 'inspiration'? Anyway, they were birthed by the goddess Ivonnu, who's still around, in a fight with her sister Ikuto, who is also still around as Kharos' daughter and being pissy in the woods.

What makes the Maradeim different from ye average elf? Uh, they're grey? Yeah, I know, good question.

Maradeim have been established to be Pretty Rare, so you don't see 'em much outside Isuparingu, and almost never outside the Lorem as it is. Four of the Detan Burata - Zona, Seikyoru (who you may know better as Athena Cykes), Myn, and Rokichi - are Maradeim. To date, Tarim is the only named, non-DB Maradeim character I currently have. (There's two others in my records, Felix and Jaycinda, but I highly doubt they'll ever reappear. I would have to totally rework them, and changing names and designs for characters who didn't have more than that is just making new characters.)

Tarim has average brown hair, spearmint green eyes, gunmetal gray skin, and a jawline sharp enough to slice a man alive. He stands 5'9", would probably be called an otter if he were in a gay bar, and from what I can tell, is the Most Average Maradeim To Ever Maradeim.

He doesn't have parents. Why doesn't he have parents? Dunno. The very first iteration of Vocal Paradise was actually a story my first soulbond, Iban, told me about growing up in the desert. He was making shit up because he was babysitting his younger brother, but I still took it for inspiration. Eventually I moved Tarim to Ilya Ustuxe, I think in 2017 for Starlight, where he actually was an illegal immigrant, worked as a veterinarian for horrors that come out of the woods, and promptly had a super-gay romance with the king, Morcair Rakshara.

Tarim's role has always been that of Protagonist, when he appears; and if he does appear as the Mentor Who Dies, it's because of how his powers and prophecy have always worked.

The oldest prophecy I've ever written was the Prophecy of the Five Heroes, in various forms, and the kicker to it is that people have tried to fulfill it, and crucially, they failed. There's been three generations of Heroes: the first was the Bringers of Hope, the second was the Crafters of Balance, and the third is the Challengers of Fate.

The Bringers of Hope failed so badly that none of them have ever even appeared in any written works: the only thing left of them is their titles, and the fact that they failed. (I know their names, though, and their relationships with each other. Hehehe.) The Crafters of Balance was Tarim, Nyktophotia, Elrua, Akui, and Ikane; who were all actively written out of the narrative when their powers overwhelmed them. They still haunt the narrative. The Challengers of Fate are Tarathiel, Kinefira, Ezra, Saga, Tessa, and Leilahi.

You'll notice that there's six challengers, whereas only five of the other two. Really wonder why the first two groups failed, folks...

Regardless. Tarim is the OG Hero of Voices, and his main magical power is to command the three Alyvian spellsongs - the Reihe, Sterben, and Lautlos - and to reshape the world of travel, Ilya Serina, to his will. He begins using the Sterben, and eventually the Reihe, and only once uses the Lautlos. Contrary to Tarathiel, who primarily uses the Lautlos and sometimes the Sterben, and only uses the Reihe when she purifies her own heart.

Tarim has always been the protagonist, and his job is to be dragged through the Serin into varying parts of the wilderness of the Aethel by the plot, being pissy the entire time and befriending a bunch of animals, sometimes being dragged around by a girl who is supposed to be his love interest and who he doesn't give two shits about. The only person he's shown any romantic interest in was Morcair, who he died on very purposefully and who he kept a lot of secrets from. Morcair's pretty bitter about it, and helps out the Challengers only for Tarim's memory. Lmao.

You'll notice, though, that right up top I said that Tarim goes by Laqir. This is because while I knew from the start what his name was, he has never willingly given his name to another person in his entire fucking life. Seriously. If he weren't sorted under the Ts, I wouldn't have told you his name was Tarim. In my actual files where all his art is, he's listed under Laqir. When I make the wiki, he'll be listed under Laqir as well, and his actual name will only be in the sidebar.

When I write him, he always and only uses he/him pronouns, and only gets named in the narrative after someone asks him his name onscreen, and he has to give it. The first time he did in Starlight (because tbh I barely remember all the shit that happened in Vocal Paradise), it was to Morcair. Tarim panicked, glanced around outside the carriage they were in, saw a road sign for Laqir Lane, and told him his name was Laqir.

What fuckin name was he going by before the shattering of the Aethel? Gods only know. It sure fuckin' wasn't Tarim.

Why he has this issue, I have no idea. But he won't give you his name, just Laqir, and gods only know if Nakoshima is his actual surname either. Prob'ly not. I have no idea why he was orphaned in the desert. He got to Ilya Ustuxe by being a stowaway on a ship as a teenager and is Super Illegally There, but fuck you he's Laqir Nakoshima, consort to the King and Hero of Voices, no one is going to be asking for his passport.

The red/blue thing he's got is something he famously shares with Nyktophotia: that's actually an Alyvian thing, and they both have it through their use of the spellsongs. Tarathiel only does that when she's actively using her powers, and Kinefira simply refuses to use the spellsongs so she doesn't get to be special.

Tarim is a grumpy, generous guy honestly. Dislikes being personable, dislikes being dragged into shit, a very Bilbo-like character tbh? Genuinely very loving, absolutely atrocious at trusting people. Super reliable, though, and has an interest in chemistry.

Tarim is also the actual owner of the Kharosian stronghold on Ilya Kava, as well as a low mansion on a phantom island in Ilya Ustuxe. He stored most of his personal stuff in the Ustux, and most of his Hero stuff in the Kav. The Challengers use his stronghold in the Kav as their primary base of operations in the Aethel, since they don't reeeeaaally want to go to the Ustux and deal with Morcair's grief over Tarim, but Tarim himself is still haunting both of these places in what fragments of consciousness he's managed to plant in them, so he's all smug about that.

It'd be nice to go back and write a few stories for him, tbh. It's been a while, and most of the things he's done in Sagiverse sum up to angrily being written out of the narrative onscreen to pass the mantle to Tarathiel. We should go see what he was up to before that.

[send me a number between 2 and 787 for a few facts about that OC, please send me more these are super fun]

[joanofexys]

Tell me more about these ocs 👀

(Sorry for anon I'm kinda 😅)

you’re all good, hun! anons are always welcome!!

okay okay so I have my main four AFTG OCs

Florian Laska, Mara Fasil, Emiko Moriyama, and Ilya Kostyk

here’s a post essentially rambling about Florian and Mara

key points are:

they were partners in the nest

Florian’s now a striker, Mara’s still a dealer

they play for the US Olympic team

Florian is 19 like Jean and Neil and dropped out of college, Mara is 23 and graduated in 4 years instead of 5

Florian’s an amputee, lost his left leg and maintains it was an accident that happened during practice

they’re extremely codependent still

they’re a PR nightmare, especially Mara

I haven’t actually talked about Em or Ilya much

Summary of Em (she/her):

middle child

25 years old

yes I created an OC who’s a Moriyama sibling sue me

so extremely gay

backliner

also plays for the olympic team

estranged from essentially all members of her family after graduating from EAU

Em’s lovely, not cause she’s a great person but cause she loves her Raven’s fiercely (especially those who have left the team) and she will start any number of fights for them. She’s nowhere near perfect and she should be seeing a therapist but she is trying her goddamn hardest to be the complete opposite of pretty much everyone in her family

I think she gets along well with Renee and once Jean transfers to the Trojans she definitely reaches out to some of them even just to check in. Her and Thea are also good friends. I don’t think she’s worn the color black since she’s graduated, the girl looks like a rainbow and I support her. She’s extremely affectionate with her current teammates which might be partially because of how hard she checks them during practices

I think that’s most of what i’ve got for her

Ilya (he/they):

Is my only non-Raven OC lmao

22 years old

Played for Penn State (graduated in 4 years)

Goalkeeper

If it's not obvious at this point he's a olympic player, i'm basically creating a whole team lmao

transman cause i said so and that's very important to me

has 3 sisters who he's very close to, youngest child

they speak English, Spanish, and ASL and they're teaching Flor ASL

Ilya my beloved. He's such a little shit and I think we're all better off for it tbh. They're so loud and take up space and I honestly think he's the perfect person to show Flor how to do so. I do think he and Florian end up dating at some point in the future cause I think they work really well together.

They are truly just some guy. Grew up in a great and supportive family and they all love him dearly. He's gets on great with most people except for the Ravens and so it takes a minute for him to warm up to Florian and Mara especially and he and Mara still butt heads plenty but he and Florian got partnered together for drills and it was like their little bonding moment

After the events of TKM he truly becomes the foxes #1 fan. He is rooting for them constantly and so annoying about it.

Ummmm idk I have trouble thinking of stuff without specifics to go off of so that's what's bouncing around in my head atm

[stinkrascal]

🌲🐻

TRANSCRIPT

picture one breanna: we finally made it! no bears neither! lucien: that's good. glad y'all are having fun.

picture two lucien: sorry we couldn't make it. breanna: it's okay, i understand! poor bonnie probably don't wanna waddle around the woods.

picture three breanna: y'know, when i was pregnant with y'all, i don't think i left the house, not even once. vladislaus: [ chuckles ] mostly, you slept. breanna: no shit, huh? that sounds right.

picture four breanna: the kids are having fun though! ilya said he's disappointed he ain't seen no bears—he's so rascally! lucien: they're hibernating, this time of the year.

picture five breanna: really? you're just like your papa, lu, you know all kinds of things. maybe when the baby's here we can go to the beach! does bonnie like the beach?

picture six breanna: where's bonnie?! is she around? i wanna talk to her! bonnie: hi, mrs. brie. breanna: hi bonnie! i miss you! we all miss you! bonnie: t-thank you.

picture seven breanna: next time we go on vacation, i'm taking you with us! we can hang out, and i'll make vlad watch the baby, so don't even worry about that! vladislaus: volunteering my time again, are you, my dear? breanna: yes, but it's a good cause this time, promise! vladislaus: hmm.

picture eight breanna: so whatcha doing? bonnie: playing with the cats. breanna: aww, i'm jealous! lucien: don't be, they stink. y'all got any plans for tonight? breanna: i'm gonna drink so much beer! lucien: nice, ma.

picture nine bonnie: [ sighs ] now i'm jealous. breanna: don't be! it tastes like shit! you want a beer, vladdy? vladislaus: i am okay. breanna: aww, you sure? vladislaus: indeed. try not to become too inebriated, my love.

picture ten breanna: ha! me? no way! never! hey, bonnie, after you give birth, i'm gonna give you the biggest bottle of wine i got, promise! bonnie: thank you. that would be nice.

picture eleven breanna: hey, bonnie, do you smoke? after the baby's here, you wanna blow down? bonnie: no, ma'am, i don't smoke. lucien: could you please try not to drug my wife, ma?

picture twelve breanna: aww, don't say it like that! you make it sound so bad. lucien: uhuh. so, did gen, carlile, and nikolai come with y'all?

picture thirteen breanna: oh, nope, just the twins and ilya. annie and klaus brought some of their friends too! i like them, they're nice, especially that tall boy. vladislaus: the loud one needs to mind himself. breanna: who, vaughn? i think he's nice! vladislaus: he is a nuisance. breanna: all teenage boys are!

picture fourteen lucien: sounds like fun. y'all gonna cook tonight? vladislaus: I am cooking, yes. breanna: yeah! we got a buncha food for the weekend! y'all are all so pciky. dunno where you get it from! [ laughs ] vladislaus: indeed, i cannot imagine where our children have acquired such a trait, my love.

picture fifteen breanna: [ laughs harder ] i know! crazy, huh! i'm gonna go help your dad cook—actually, i might call nikolai. have you talked to him any? lucien: nope. breanna: he don't never pick up his phone! lucien: text him, he'll get back to you in three to five business days. breanna: ha! good one!

picture sixteen breanna: oh, you know what! i gotta text carlile back! i ain't never replied! lucien: sounds good, ma. breanna: okay, bye for real this time! love y'all! lucien: love you too. bye. [ hangs up ] god, she talks forever.

picture seventeen bonnie: i like your mom. she's nice. lucien: yeah, makes it impossible to hang up though. did you do anything fun today? bonnie: no. not really.

picture eighteen lucien: did you talk to your internet friends? bonnie: i don't talk to them anymore. lucien: why not? bonnie: [ shrugs ] lucien: there's a writing circle at the community college, you should go.

picture nineteen bonnie: ...i don't know. lucien: you'd have a lot of fun, i'm sure, and you could make some friends too.

picture twenty bonnie: ...maybe. lucien: yeah? bonnie: [ nods ] mmhmm.

picture twenty-one bonnie: i'm tired. i'm gonna take a nap. lucien: oh. okay. ...are you feeling alright? bonnie: mmhmm. lucien: okay... sleep well. bonnie: [ yawns ] thank you.

[pertinax--loculos]

Unofficial WIP Intro

___RISK IT

So I have bad luck doing official-sorta WIP intros, but I want a little bit of accountability (and also to be a bit more active on here), so... here’s a brief dot-point overview of the one that’s currently consuming my brain:

inspired directly by spite (because of a book I read recently that annoyed the crap out of me)

bodyguard/protectee dynamic (ultimately friends-to-lovers, I think)

urban fantasy in a World Not Our Own But Close

magic system TBD, but the MC is Barren (aka, has no magic -- this is kinda a big deal)

incorporating bits and pieces from other WIPs I’ve played with, most significantly the arcane demon dog Shade (who is also a disobedient little shit)

seriously messed up characters who don’t want to process their trauma

murder mystery! Maybe! Sort of! Think urban fantasy fare with the characters investigating something. It kicks off the plot. It maybe is the plot. Who really knows?

magic havers vs have not (read: privileged vs others)

dual POV (in first person! Wish me luck separating their voices ahaha)

loyalty and codependency and love that leaves scars

...aaaand, cuz why the hell not, have a little snippet from the first scene under the cut:

Caden took half a step back. We got within arm’s reach of him just as the shadows solidified into a coherent form.

It looked like a dog, as much as a creature made out of shadows can look like anything. Tall, though, taller than any real example of its breed, which looked mostly like a dobermann. Its shoulders easily reached Caden’s waist. The tips of the pricked ears were level with his chin. The smouldering red eyes  bored into his neck. And the steely metallic fangs, revealed when it slowly opened its mouth, were just the right height to rip out his throat.

The shadow creature made a noise that sounded like a cross between metal in a garbage disposal and a chainsaw. Caden’s step backwards was quick enough that his ankle turned and Ilya had to catch his elbow to stop him sprawling on his ass.

“That’s…” Caden gave me a cursory glance before he fixed his horrified gaze on Ilya. “That’s a—”

“Shade,” Ilya said.

“Holy shit.” What little colour remained in Caden’s face drained. He slowly turned his face back towards the shadowy dog, adam’s apple bobbing in a deep swallow. “That’s a Shade.”

“No,” Ilya said. “Well, I mean, yes, it is, but I meant — Shade.”

The Shade — that Ilya ingenously named Shade — tilted its head. The wisps of shadow that made up its long and pain-in-the-ass tail began to swish back and forth.

Ilya cleared his throat and tried, with great and heavy gravity, “Shade.”

Shade bounced — all four feet off the ground, shoulders at the pinnacle, an expression of joy if I’ve ever seen one — and landed in a play bow. He made a sound similar to an unbalanced washing machine and then turned and bolted off down the alley.

[unhingedbutpretty]

Nyssala's Dear Diary — 2

Somewhere down the Chiontar, 29 Eleasis 1492 DR

Daaaamn diary, no one back home will EVER believe in anything that happened to me in the last ten day. No way.

Shit, even I am having a hard time processing all this weird stuff. This is the first blank notebook we found on the road, and I don't even know how to begin.

So I'll begin from the start: I finally got my day off, and was just crossing the Wyrm's Path when I saw people running. At first I thought that there were some gang causing trouble or something, but when I looked up TA-DAH! A mindflayer ship!

Next thing I know, I was in a pod with a worm squirming behind my eye. The good side (if we can call any of this "good") is that I was not alone. There is a strange sense of relief when you're fucked up, but there's some more people who are just as fucked up as you, you know? Fucked up camaraderie, that is.

So now I have a whole bunch of new fucked up comrades! The first I've met was Jaleem. He's tall, handsome, and has this angry scar in his face that gives him a mysterious look... Almost made me forget he was a seldarine. Of course I haven't told him... [the next lines were carefully scrapped over] ...he's a paladin and all! Really cute.

There's also Ilya, they're half-drow-half-eladrin, a very funny fellow. They said that Jarlaxle Baenre is their father, my blood froze a little bit, I confess. But well, ... [the next few lines are full of erasures] ...as long as I keep my mouth shut I'll be ok, I guess? I wonder how they are so sure that Jarlaxle is their father... Tip off: stay away from them while they're casting spells.

A githyianki threatened us, but we soon became friends. She's strong, weird-looking and a bit bossy, totally my type, but it seems like she's also Ilya's type so I won't meddle, you know?

There's a cleric who openly wears a sharran armor, I haven't said anything about it and no one else brought the subject so I'll just let it sink I guess? Anyway she's a bit annoying and she seems to not like the gith, but I feel some unresolved sexual tension underlying the... [there are a few lines of scrapped, erasured text]

That wizard won't shut up, for Lolth's webbed armpits, it's taking all my concentration to write among his monologue. But well he's a good cook. Side note: WTNH THE WIZARD JUST ATE A PAIR OF BOOTS!!!

The elf pointed a knife to my throat, how innovative for surface standards — he later revealed himself a vampire — who later sucked Ilya dry — who we had to protect from Jaleem because he was so PISSED — even more pissed than Ilya themselves, by the way — I know the type, I met a lot of people like him at the city: all sweet talking trying to blow his charms on us... Any of us. Except Jaleem, of course. Tip off: don't fall for it. He wants something. I hope Ilya is aware of that, too.

The "Blade of Frontiers", how someone so gorgeous comes up with a name so silly? He's that kind of person who is drop dead beautiful but seems to be totally oblivious to it... And his voice, holy shit. He could be heroic in my tent, I'd totally play damsel in distress for him. But I guess Jaleem is already on the run for this one. Oh well.

I wonder if the tiefling's flames would still burn me underwater. I mean, the river is right there. Just an idea. What can I say, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger? I have a thing for people who can snap me in two. Guilty, guilty.

Entry 1

[1800duckhotline]

hi i was wondering if u cld tell us a little abt tisha ?

ah yes absolutely! although be warned there isnt like a lot of DEEP lore about him :-) i have snippets here and there of what will become eventually a more properly founded story.

his main setting as i imagine is the mid-late 90s in contemporary times. he was born in russia (for now not sure where exactly but canonically he also wouldnt know where he is from) and ever since a young age he'd developed a temperament geared towards violence - though not in the sense that he enjoyed it, but rather that it came easy for him to do especially in situations of self defense, mostly against strangers, but i imagined the familial situation also contributed to him developing that 'fight' response to most things that are dangerous. tl;dr he's good at hurting people but he doesn't like it. he just knows how to do it properly.

the family history is muddled 2 me for now, but what i know is that he had an older brother, ilya (still alive in current times where tisha is an adult) and they used to be close. tisha = carrion crow, ilya = magpie.

the big main thing is that due to unfortunate circumstances tisha's "skill" with harming others was amped up once he got involved with some shady folks. again here it's all very muddled, i haven't got a clear idea. but, he's 13 at this age, he's basically being shaped into becoming an assassin for hire. at this age he also starts doing drugs.

some accident happens here where ultimately tisha leaves his home and ilya behind, and i imagined it to be some kind of event where ilya is forced to help tisha hide some bodies - sloppy work for a sloppy newbie at this sort of stuff, but they both get scarred from it nonetheless. in different ways.

that said from then on Tisha grows to be... Tisha. the drugs and repeated exposure to criminal life and activities completely obliterated his memory btw, and as you might guess Tikhon (Tisha is the diminutive form of his name) Igorevich isn't his actual first and last name. He initially used this as an alias when joining in in an attempt to "shield" his family, but with time he genuinely forgot his real name, his family, and so on. personality wise he honestly hardly ever changes? he is a quiet individual who doesn't enjoy making a show of himself, but he gets the job done and doesn't like dilly-dallying more than he needs to. he has self-awareness about him and his situation, he knows most people think he's pathetic and lowly, and he like. genuinely doesn't give a fuck. he isn't proud of it but he has too much shit going on to care about it in a way that changes his life forever.

anyway i think after a good chunk of years he eventually quits working for this 'group' and the transition isn't smooth (which he expected) but he maintains his reputation as an affable and well-adjusted hitman who is available for hire for whoever's willing to pay the most. enters some kind of assassin union which is mostly me putting together my hitman and assassin ocs together bc they'd probably all know each other.

this situation allows him to travel outside of russia, and his situation also allows him to like, bring with him kuobakhaya, who has been present the whole time btw - but since the ask was about him i didn't elaborate on her much. all you need to know for now is that they've been friends since they were children and bonded over feeling like outcasts, so as adults tisha would help her move somewhere else where she can start a better life while he helps her with expenses of various kinds. they are like brother and sister ^__^ he would literally kill to make sure she stays safe and sound and the feeling is likewise. with his help she moves to brighton, UK which is where he also has his "main HQ" when not traveling

but ummm there's not much else to Add, it's a pretty simplistic edgy story i know i know but i was inspired a lot by The Crow for his design, as well as some edgeboylords from 90s comics.

his weapons of choice are mostly tourniquets (to strangle quietly) and silenced guns.

loves crows. literally attracts crows constantly. they LOVE him. he is a literal scarecrow man. they love him and it is mutual

his style and fashion is strictly 80s/90s trad goth. the pierrot eye markings are tattoos.

[stachesmess]

some people should come with a warning notice man

[postleft]

this damn screenplay is the most christian thing i’ve had to write in like. ever. i hate it

[mynameisemma]

Yes, I aware about this moral diminution in Sonya and Marya, I write about this in the tags.

When I say that the Rostovs don't need Sonya (specifically in the epilogue), I mean that a) No adult family member has a significant emotional bond with her b) Sonya could have been replaced by a random governess (the text explicitly tells that the Rostovs took all small favours she was ready to give them with little to no appreciation), and the family would have sighed in relief because Sonya living with them was kind of a silent reminder and reproach of the injustice of the situation.

And yes, I do blame Nikolai, not for marrying a rich heiress or falling out of love with Sonya (In the end, marrying Sonya by that point of the novel would have been catastrophic both for their financial position and relationship) but how he handled relationship with her throughout the novel in general. It was an emotional rollercoaster of "I love you — you know, I might not love the way you want me to — oh shit wait, I've realised I do love you — no, it seems I don't, sorry"). He said to Sonya she was closer to him that anyone else and that he would fall in love with other women within the same sentence while trying to get Sonya reconsider the other man's proposal after her receiving it and making her decision on the delusion that she and Nikolai will be together in the end. Then at the Christmas Party he realises suddenly that he actually head over heels in love with Sonya (he isn't) to the point of announcing their engagement officially, and then he proceeds to not care about her at all while he's away in the army. And it's also worth mentioning that Nikolai cheated on Sonya emotionally and physically.

Yes, his actions don't stem from malice towards Sonya, but rather commitment and responsibility issues combined with inability to reflect on his actions and feelings but he was a shitty romantic partner to Sonya, and that's entirely his fault.

Sonya, on the other hand, is stubbornly delusional about the prospects of her and Nikolai's marriage, the way it will affect the family and their social and economic position in the society. Her main problem and downfall, imo, is that Sonya has very thick rose tinted glasses about the Rostovs, Nikolai in particular, and, most importantly, her position of lack of social and financial resources, which leads her to using the same wrong patterns and the "if I will be good enough, if I sacrifice enough, if I show them how grateful I am, they will recognise me". No, they won't. You can't make who don't love you, love you, and this is the simple truth Sonya can't understand.

Is Natalya the only one to blame, tho? We have Ilya who saw his wife mistreating his eldest daughter and niece and doing as much as staring and blinking. We have Natasha saying Sonya is a "sterile flower" unable to feel things the way she and Marya do, and this is despite having grown up with Sonya by her side, we have Nikolai, whom I already talked about.

Tolstoy's attitude to Sonya is paradoxical: on one hand he admits the Rostovs' mistreatment of her and that Sonya is the way she is specifically because of the said mistreatment but on the other hand he refuses to recognise her pain the way he does in the case of Marya's emotional abuse and seemingly blames her for always keeping in mind her very vulnerable position and making her decisions with that notion in mind.

And yeah, the favouritism is glaring.

crazy that both sonya and marya are defined by their self-sacrifice and even their pride in it but the one coveted object the one thing that they dare to selfishly hope for as a reward for all they have given up is the same exact fucking guy for both of them. its like a sick joke from god. or i guess from tolstoy