#so only solution is to of course draw more !

[theresattrpgforthat]

This is kind of a weird one I guess but do you have any recommendations for urban fantasy games with crunchy combat that can utilise battle mats or terrain? ideally ones where the general population don't know the fantasy elements exist. Something with a vibe like fighting monsters and gangs in abandoned malls and subway stations instead of dungeons.

I wanna build terrain for an urban fantasy game but all the ones I see seem to be ones where combat isn't a huge focus, or they're very rules light, or combat is super deadly so you don't have an opportunity to screw around with positions a lot.

Thanks -w-

THEME: Urban Fantasy w/ Combat.

Hello! This is a pretty tall order, and I think that what you're looking for is closer to a war game than a ttrpg. I'm going to include a few tabletop games here, since that's my thing, but I'm also going to show you a little bit of what I found from the Wargame Vault, in case you find that to be a little more in your wheelhouse.

CAIN, by Tom Bloom.

Humanity is cursed, host to a roiling psychic sea barely understood or controlled, a phenomenon arising purely from the darkest portions of the human soul. While most humans are blissfully unaware of its presence, others are more sensitive. When it grows wild in these hosts, SINS appear, terrifying supernatural monsters that are anathema to reality itself.

CAIN is the solution, the global supranational shadow organization dedicated solely to the hunting and execution of sins. It’s mission is clear, its purpose steadfast. Is there anything better than a good hunt? Just think, you’re all set to slaughter to your heart’s content.

YOU are an exorcist, a powerful psychic soldier and tool of CAIN, honed and wielded for one purpose: WIPE OUT THE STAIN.

From the same person who brought us Kill Six Billion Demons and Lancer, CAIN is definitely focused on the hunt of something that regularly, everyday people can't see. The game uses d6 dice pools, and draws on a lot of narrative cues that I've seen in places like Blades in the Dark, so I don't know if it's necessarily as map-oriented as you'd like, but there might be something tactical in the choices your characters might have to make.

CAIN also puts a fair amount of stock in something called a Category, which is a scaling system to help you determine how effective any given action might be, depending on your character vs the type of supernatural power they are up against, as well as an exorcist's level of skill, the number of people involved, or how much of an area one might need to cover. The game definitely feels like it will reward you if you manage to attain some system mastery, so if you like that kind of challenge, you might like CAIN.

Majestic 13, by Snarling Badger Studios.

MAJESTIC 13 is miniatures-agnostic tabletop wargame where you command an elite team of alien hunters in a secret war to protect the Earth.

To the public, the modern era of alien encounters started in Roswell, New Mexico, on July 8th, 1947, with reports of a downed alien craft, which were quickly retracted and replaced by the story of a weather balloon. The public remains suspicious but accepts the story and moves on. Conspiracy theorists claim the government absconded with alien bodies and technology and hid everything from the people. Both stories are, of course, wrong.

Secrecy? Check. Monsters? Check. Terrain & combat? Absolutely check. Majestic 13 is not necessarily an urban fantasy game, but I think that you could swap out the aliens for fantasy monsters and you'd be pretty darn close. This is also a war-game, so it's definitely focused on the logistics of a drawn-out fight, rather than narrative beats. I think perhaps one of the biggest drawbacks of this game is that it's designed for only 1-2 players, so it would be difficult to bring this to a larger table.

Mad as Hell, by SoulMuppet Publishing.

Mad as Hell is an anti-capitalist demon-hunting exploration of activism and community. Play as Radicals, members of various Communities, banding together to fight the literal demons of capitalism.

The only way to kill demons is to understand what quiet violence created them in the first place, work out how to solve that problem, and turn it into a weapon. You might kill a demon of mouldy water with a purifier, a demon of poison-laced diet drugs with its own reflection, or a demon of bigotry with a pride flag. Unless you address the root cause of the problem, the wound in the world will continue to fester, and the demon will be reborn, free to wreak havoc. To defeat the demon truly, you need to make meaningful social change in your communities and help those around you.

Mad as Hell is rules-light, but it's also a combat game, where demons are representative of the evils that have arisen from a wounded world full of damaging power structures. You hunt these demons to protect the communities you are part of, and also to help combat the distress that arises from living in such a fraught environment.

I'm recommending this game mostly because it carries the fantasy setting that you're looking for, as well as focusing much of the game on conflict, although the conflict is probably less about a strategically-managed battlefield, and more about using what resources you have to solve what problems you can.

Right now the game is preparing to kick-start later this year, but the quick-start (linked above) is free to download. You can also download the Radical's Handbook if you want some in-world commentary from various contributors.

Dark Streets & Darker Secrets, by Old Skull Publishing.

Dark Streets & Darker Secrets is a Street & Sorcery Rules Light Role-Playing Game with an Old School spirit, just like its predecessors: Sharp Swords & Sinister Spells and Solar Blades & Cosmic Spells.

It’s a game about modern adventures in the world we live today, only with a layer of supernatural weirdness and horror. Characters are people who have found out about the mysteries and horrors that exist in the world and have decided to do something about it, be it battle it, join it, or simply explore its possibilities in any way they see fit. They will battle evil cultists, corrupted ghosts, bloodsucking vampires, and frenzied werewolves, or maybe they will be the horrors of others.

Dark Streets & Darker Secrets feels like a great option for GMs who want a bunch of tools to help them generate interesting adventures for their players. The game itself feels liked it draws from quite a bit of OSR sensibilities, which means that if there is strategy, it will mostly revolve around creative uses of your environment and the items on your person.

I'm not entirely sure whether or not terrain is something that would add to OSR-style games or not, but combat in this game system is pretty comprehensive, with rules about movement, cover, multiple attacks, and using spells. If you want to learn more about this game, you can check out this review on Questing Beast about the game!

The Secret World, by Star Anvil Studios.

An age is ending, and the darkest days are already here. Ancient enemies cast their avaricious gaze upon our world, threats both mortal and cosmic–once thought merely myth, but horrifically all too real–reveal themselves as the clock counts down towards apocalypse. Now, the “Bees,” the Chosen of Gaia, must step forth to defend the Earth against these dire threats. At the same time, they must work with secret societies who support the bees in their efforts to save humanity from unspeakable horrors.

In The Secret World: The Roleplaying Game, the players are those bees.

The Secret World requires the Savage Worlds core rulebook in order to play; it's a setting more than it is a standalone game. It's all about secret societies fighting against apocalyptic forces. Mechanically, I find Savage Worlds to be "crunchy" and I certainly wouldn't call it rules-lite… but it's also not exactly tactical in nature. Mechanical bonuses are awarded to characters depending on how you as a player role-play, and characters are built through a point-buy system, rather than through an advancement path often seen in class-based games.

That being said, the fact that the game tracks movement through pace means that having some kind of map or terrain to track your progress would be very helpful. The kind of weapon your character holds determines how much damage you might be able to do, and you roll for damage, meaning that you can't count on dealing the same amount of damage every time. If you like trad games, I think there's a lot you might like in both Savage Worlds and The Secret World.

When Nightmares Come, by Osprey Publishing.

When Nightmares Come is a tabletop miniatures wargame about modern day monster hunting and occult investigations. Players will form a team of paranormal vigilantes; self-taught occult specialists and monster hunters who call themselves the Nightwatch. These self-appointed members of the ‘watch look to tackle the supernatural horrors and investigate the strange disturbances that plague their city.

The core of the game, using the Action Dice Pool with its multiple die types, is fast and bloody, with tiered enemies, flexible player classes, quick combat resolution, and straightforward mission objectives.

When Nightmares Come also contains a roleplaying element that allows for non-combat challenges and dramatic encounters. This system uses the same dice types as the core game’s Action Dice Pool and emphasizes quick resolutions. This narrative system adds a fresh dimension to the core miniatures experience, particularly in longer campaigns where the promise of different foes and new story lines encourages long-term play-ability.

This looks like an excellent game for folks who like to play the underdog, combining the combat of monster-hunting with an investigation that point to plenty of mystery and hidden enemies. The publisher of this game also mentions a narrative system, which allows for dramatic encounters that might allow this game to straddle the line between war-game and TTRPG. Another great thing about this game is that appears to be some supplements designed by to community to help you get started, such as The Loa of Lockwood Court, and Gang Tags and Elder Signs.

Finally...

If you like what I do and want to leave a tip, you can check out my Ko-Fi!

[nutsack90]

i NEED to draw her more shes so awesome

reading the team up missions inspired me..

[seospicybin]

SEOSPICY UPCOMING POST.

COCKY.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself.

Preview under the cut!

...

Chris Bang is a name everyone in the company knows. As a product manager, he’s known for his reliability, innovative ideas, and ability to bring projects to life. He’s respected, well-liked, and a natural leader. A social butterfly who effortlessly navigates through the office, friendly to everyone he meets.

You, on the other hand, have only ever interacted with him in passing—polite nods, brief greetings when you cross paths in the hallway. So when you receive an invitation to meet him in his office, you can’t help but wonder why he suddenly wants to talk to you.

A few minutes before four, you find yourself lingering outside Chris’s office, nervously shifting on your feet. You check your watch, heart thumping. A little after four, Chris finally appears, offering an apologetic smile.

"My apologies for the delay," he says. "Please, come in."

You follow him inside, settling into the chair across from his desk as he takes his seat. He folds his hands on the desk, studying you for a moment before speaking. "Thank you for coming. I wanted to discuss something regarding your research."

You nod, trying to keep your curiosity at bay. "Of course. How can I assist you?"

Chris watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. The slight shift in his posture draws your attention—just enough to make you hyper-aware of the space between you.

“What specific criteria are you looking for in a participant for your product test?” His voice is even, measured, but there’s something in the way he asks that makes your breath hitch for just a second.

You clear your throat, straightening in your seat. “The main requirement is that participants need to have a genital size above average.”

His lips quirk up slightly, though his expression remains composed. “And what qualifies as above average?”

You’re certain he already knows the answer, but you respond anyway, keeping your tone professional. “Anything more than 5.5 inches when fully erect is considered above average.”

A beat of silence stretches between you. Chris doesn’t say anything immediately, just sits there, tapping a finger lightly against the desk, his gaze flickering over you in a way that makes the air feel heavier.

Then, finally, he exhales, tilting his head slightly. “I may have a solution to your participant problem,” he says, his voice lower now. “I would like to volunteer.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second. “You… what?”

“I want to be a participant for your product test.”

You blink, your mouth opening slightly before snapping shut. Your grip on your pen tightens as you try to process what he just said.

He nods. "I see potential in your product, and I believe in its success. More importantly, I want to contribute to the company’s innovation."

You stare at him, still trying to wrap your head around it. "How exactly are you going to be a participant?"

Chris leans back slightly. "I ask that my involvement remains anonymous."

Your throat feels dry as you nod. "Alright. But how are we going to conduct the test if you want to remain anonymous?"

He watches you carefully before answering. "We can arrange to do it outside of the office, in secret."

Without another word, Chris pushes himself up from his chair and moves around the desk. He stops right in front of you, leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you, waiting.

And that’s when it happens.

For the first time, you really look at him—not just as a well-respected product manager but as a man. The sharp cut of his jaw, the slight crease between his brows, the way his fitted white dress shirt does absolutely nothing to hide the definition underneath. How had you never noticed before?

Your eyes trail lower before you can stop yourself, a fleeting glance—until you realize exactly where you’re looking. The bulge against his dark slacks.

Heat floods your face as you snap your gaze back up, praying he didn’t catch that momentary lapse in professionalism.

Chris doesn’t comment on it, but there’s something almost amused in the way he tilts his head. He extends a hand toward you, expectant.

“So? Do you agree to this arrangement?” he prompts.

“Yes,” you regret for answering too quickly, making you sound way too eager. When in fact, you're just glad to finally solve the problem but also, yeah, okay, you can’t lie, you're a bit curious about something, about Chris.

Your fingers wrap around his, and as you shake hands, you feel it. The shift. The undercurrent of something you can’t quite name just yet.

...

COCKY full fics will be released this Friday, March 7.

Or you can read it early on my Patreon page!

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 31

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n massive, massive shoutout to @rainfallingfromthesky and @kokinu09 who proof read this chapter and the next one at least four times, cheerled, encouraged, and came along to writing battles until it was done (and of course, another shoutout to them for helping with every single chapter of this fic, they're the real ones <3)

previous | masterlist | next

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"I'm fine," you insist in the face of Chan's concern, even though he hasn't said anything yet. "We really have to go, you know."

Chan doesn't move. Neither do his eyes, not even to track the staff that file past and out the door, the managers glancing back at the two of you. You nearly think that they’ll intervene and save you; but they only look at you without catching your eye and then depart, leaving you alone with him as he guides you back to the couches in the corner of the room, the arm around your shoulders just stiff enough that it is impossible to escape.

Not that you have the strength to pull away from him, your knees shaking just from the effort of lowering yourself onto the couch. Weak, as usual, as stupid as everything else you're doing. 

"We really don't," Chan insists. "We're not getting any awards - it's not like anyone's going to miss us."

"There are cameras," you point out stubbornly. "And Stay watching. And it's rude to just disappear in the middle of a show-"

"And you don't look like you want to go out there at all." His voice cuts across you smoothly, his mouth quirking in a half smile despite the grave set of his eyes and the pinch of his brow between them. 

A sigh escapes your lips, heavier than you'd expected when it feels like you can't draw a proper breath in. "I don't," you say slowly, trying to wrest control over the way that your voice trembles, the near slip of those tears that keep on threatening to fall no matter how angrily you choke them back. "But I have to at some point, so we might as well just go."

"Or we could just stop for a minute," he suggests. 

"Or we could just go, because if I sit here for too long I'm going to cry and then it’ll be even harder when I do."

The words escape all in one breath, emptying your chest out as fast as you can fill it. You hope that they might take some of the tension that twists there away with them and relieve the pounding of your heart in your head - but the feeling of horror in your gut only grows as you say it, threatening to overwhelm you. Too late, then, to escape it. You should have slipped out the door when you had the chance, instead of hanging back long enough for him to catch you.

The thought breaks the dam you've been so carefully building in your mind, plunging you into the depths of the anxiety that gropes for you with both hands. The tears fall with the first small sob that hiccups from your throat, your lip bitten against it. A moment later, Chan's arms draw you into his chest, his body a warmth you can cling to in the storm. 

"You can cry if you want," he tells you over your head. "You don't have to worry about what anyone will think."

"I do have to worry about what they think," you mumble into his shoulder, your eyes closed against the truth and the bright lights of the room. "My whole life depends on what they think. That's what sucks." Another sob shudders out on your breath, tears dripping into the fabric of his shirt. 

"It's only one performance," he begins, a hand rubbing comforting circles into your back. "There'll be more, and your dance will be just as perfect as it usually is-"

"That's not what-" You cut yourself off just as quickly as you'd stopped him, pushing away from him as you gather the right words in your mind. "The mistake was - was fine. Not fine, but not...there was a fan sign on the barricade that was...directed at me. And it's really stupid, and I don't know why it made me so..."

The rest of the words stick in your throat, your voice trailing off mid-sentence. You fill the space it leaves by slashing furiously at the tears that track down your cheeks even as more fall to replace them. "You're not stupid," he says, when he's sure you're done talking yourself into a corner. "You're a person who's been going through something really hard lately, and you're allowed to cry about it if you want to." His hands reach out, squeezing yours. "You didn't even cry on stage. How's anyone going to know what their favourite idol does backstage?"

"I'm nobody's favourite idol," you sniff. 

"You're my favourite," Chan says, so earnestly that you almost believe him. You manage a smile at the skip your heart takes anyway, and reach up to wipe away your tears.

"Am I?" you ask, sniffing again. "I feel like I'm so annoying sometimes."

"Well, you're not." He pauses, fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes as he looks at you. "Neurotic, maybe. But not annoying."

The words do what they're supposed to do - startle you right out of your tears and the choke of your breath for a moment, your mouth falling open in disbelief. "Neurotic?" you repeat incredulously, and you don't even fight when he laughs and folds you into his arms again.

"You think that's more unbelievable than me enjoying spending time with you?" he asks as he pulls you close, his arms a security you hadn't realised you'd been missing.

“Maybe you should get on your knees and profess your undying love for me more often,” you answer in a droll voice, the sarcasm stinging like acid on the back of your tongue even as you say it. You don’t know where it wells up from; you don’t feel very funny right now, or even satisfied at the noise he makes when you say it.

“Answer the question,” he says instead of answering you.

A sigh exits your mouth instead of a laugh; you try to let some of the tension in your chest shudder out with it, try to find your centre of balance and a calmer trail of thoughts in your mind. "I never know what to believe," you mumble to him; not a truth that you've intentionally hidden from him, but one that you've been ignoring for yourself as well, in case acknowledgement of it made your life unbearable. "So many people say so many things about me every day...and I know I should just ignore it and listen to you, but…there’s so much. I can’t look at anything without seeing it. And some of it must be true."

Over your head, Chan's breath exhales long and slow, like he's trying to hold something in. You wish you could see his face - but his arms won't let you go, not for something as silly as that. "I think you're overcomplicating it a bit," he says, and sighs again. "Just because someone makes up a hundred nasty facts about you, it doesn’t mean any of them are true."

"And you're not biased at all?" you question, because it is easier than taking what he says to heart.

His answer is firm. "The people on the internet that hate you aren't biased?"

"I don't know." Your breath is ragged, in and out of your chest through lungs wound up too tight to do their job. Even here in his arms there is no escape from the writhing darkness in your gut, the thoughts that storm the walls of your mind. 

"I'm sorry," you spit out when you have the strength to do it, another sob welling up in its wake. "I don’t know. I just...it makes me so angry sometimes. That's all. I just need to calm down - and think about it-"

"You know, if you need a break..."

"No!" Your answer is so sudden, it breaks the close of his arms around you, your hands slipping from the flat of his back as you sit up straight, staring at him with that fire from your chest burning in your eyes. "Stopping won't fix anything. I don't want to stop."

Chan's gaze never wavers, compassion writing itself into the crease of his brow. "You can't go on like this though."

"What else am I supposed to do?" you ask. "It's like you said when I debuted; it'll get better eventually. I just have to keep waiting."

"You shouldn't have to wait," he answers. "We just have to change something. We should have done it a long time ago."

"But what?" The frustration burns at you like a knife in your hand, past the maelstrom of sorrow and self-indulgent grief that had you in its claws before. "I don't know what they want. I don't know who to be for them."

Chan blinks at you. "You don't be anyone. You just be yourself."

"But they don't like me."

"Then you be yourself for yourself, and you stop caring what other people think."

A derisive snort escapes your throat before you can stop it, your eyes turning away before he can catch the sharp edge of your gaze, the anger that's not really directed at him. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," he says, too soft. Too encouraging. 

"No," you say again, the force of the word propelling you to your feet. "I can't. I have a company, and a contract, and all those people watching. I can't even pick what clothes I wear, or where I go, or who I get to film with. I can't say anything without a script because I'll say the wrong thing. I can't."

"You can't live like that either."

"You think it's better if every message Felix gets is about whether we're dating? That I just let them call me easy and - and a slut, because I want to wear a dress? Or shorts? Or they keep boycotting our albums until JYP decides we're more trouble than they're worth?"

"Yes." You don't miss the way Chan's eyes harden as you speak, his jaw clenched as if there's something he doesn't want to say held between his teeth. Your voice trails off at the sight of it, fear running up your spine at the thought that he might be angry at you - but when he turns, there is only the same patience there in his eyes that has been waiting for you this entire time. 

"I don't care how ugly it is," he says, slow enough that every word burns itself individually into your brain. "I don't care, and you shouldn't either; and if we have no fans that can love you and we all end up going home, I won't care about that either."

It takes a moment for the sentiment to fully settle in your brain, working around the horror and the shock of the determination on his face, the way that your heart stutters and squeezes in your chest at the thought of a future where Stray Kids doesn't exist at all - where he gives it away just for you. It makes no sense, when you look at it from that angle. What mind would he have to be in for that trade to seem fair; you, for the entire group? You, for his career, his dream, everything he'd ever spent his life on?

"Y/N," he says, watching you with eyes that say far more than his mouth will. "I want you to be happy. That's all. I don't care about the rest."

"I'm not going to hurt the group just for my own happiness," you tell him. "I'd rather be miserable forever with all of you than out alone or in some other group."

"You think that you being miserable doesn't hurt us too?"

He catches you off-guard again, your mouth agape and your balance unsettled, your feet shifting to catch you. Slowly, you sink back down onto the sofa next to him, your head in your hands. "You make it sound so easy."

You can hear him shift in his seat, and then the warm press of his palm on your back. "It's not easy," he says. "But it can't be any harder than the torture you're already putting yourself through."

You hum in response, all of the fight you'd had before draining out of your limbs at once. Fatigue fills the space that it leaves; not just the ache of your body from months and months of endless dancing, but the ache of your head too, your thoughts sluggish and slow and reluctant to believe that any alternative option he's offering you could be a viable solution, even if, in your own common sense, you know what he's saying is true.

"What if I say I hate dancing?” you ask in a moment of weakness, the words a whisper on the edge of your breath that slips from your tongue before you can swallow it again. “Not - not hate it. But…right now…”

"Then stop spending every waking hour dancing," he says, suspiciously calm. “Pick the setlist for K-Con. Don’t dance again until we start practicing for Kingdom.” When you lift your head to look at him, you find him struggling to smother a triumphant smile, the urge to say I told you so writhing under his skin. "As long as you're not doing it to please a bunch of people who have decided they hate you."

The intensity of his gaze, the absolute sureness in the way he speaks, is uncomfortable, a heat that you can't bear. “Think about it,” he says when your mouth remains closed, speaking the promise for you.

"Don’t we have to go?" you ask, your mouth dry and your voice as weak as your body feels. You’re not sure how you’ll even rally the strength to walk all the way back to your seat, or if you’ll be able to feign attentiveness for the rest of the time you sit there.

"Probably," Chan admits - and then pauses, his eyes searching your face. "Once your makeup is fixed."

You blanche, dabbing at your cheek with one hand as if you can fix it yourself. "Is it bad?" you ask.

Chan shrugs, his hand moving in a so-so gesture. "If there weren't cameras, you'd be okay."

Cameras. Of course - they waited out there, along with the people, and the fans that would be wondering where the two of you were when the rest of the group had returned so long ago. A little of the old dread creeps in at the imminancy of that walk. You're surprised to find that it isn't the same all-compassing fear that you'd felt before; just a small gasp of the breath in comparison, a squeeze of your chest that is soon overruled by the squeeze of his hand in yours as he stands and crosses the room to the door, to find the team that are dutifully waiting outside. 

The thought stays with you as they fix your face, along with all the others he's given you to dwell on in the time since; the fear, and his devotion, and the way that small squeeze of your hand sets your heart to fluttering instead of pounding heavily against your ribcage. In the moments you have before you walk out the door, you wonder at what it is he's thinking that you are missing, but you cannot figure it out, not on too little sleep and such high emotions.  

Later, you promise yourself as you walk out of the room, his hand squeezing yours again when the manager that leads you turns his back. You don't have the heart to pull away from his grip until you reach the edge of the darkness that lines the passage from side-stage to the seating that you and other idols inhabit, clinging onto him like a lifeline in a raging storm even though you know it is dangerous. Just be yourself, he'd said; and you want to hold his hand, and so you do, and you don't think on why that is, or what other implications it might have. 

---

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[mochatsin]

School Play

There’s another school play in which you act as the main lead because Simeon thought you’d be perfect for the role, there’s no need to cast anyone else (much to Asmo’s dismay). He’s seen your performances before, and you’re one of the easiest actors to work with compared to the brothers that constantly got their lines wrong during rehearsals. Simeon can get frustrated, and it seems that the brothers feel the same way, if not terrified of the angel’s sudden change in attitude as soon as he plays the director. You’re just relieved he’s not that way towards you.

Of course, who wouldn’t want to see a play written by Christopher Peugeot himself. The theme was a thrilling love story wherein the hero would have to go through a long journey to rescue the one they love, which was you. They would meet so many characters that would either support the hero or become an obstacle on his way to defeat the cruel lord that locked you up. 

You’re the main love interest, and you sat on the side watching as everyone else in the room debated and fought each other on why they should have the main lead role, why they should be the hero who would rescue you. Seeing as how the atmosphere in the room is starting to have murderous intent, Simeon finally thought of a solution that would be fair to everyone. Draw lots. 

That’s how you ended up with Solomon as your hero, and Barbatos acting as the main villain and the rest playing a support role. They either help Solomon with the journey or act as one of Barbatos’ minions to try to stop him from his advances. Everyone could only blame their luck, though to say that Solomon was happy about his part is an understatement. Meanwhile, Barbatos does adore the parts where he keeps you all to himself, however he does not enjoy the scene where he had to terrorize a town since Diavolo’s character, a commoner (which he loves to play), is one of the victims that the hero finds which eventually sets the tone of the play to move forward. It takes a lot for Barbatos not to run to his master’s side while he was acting out his death.

Solomon is always ready to rehearse his scenes with you, and when it’s about lines talking about you, Simeon is impressed at how quickly he can memorize them. But then again, if they’re all about how much he adores you then it’s not difficult to remember at all. Lucifer and the others hate playing supporting characters where they have to hear about how much Solomon loves you. It’s bad enough they had to play the role of helping him, but there are several minutes of dialogue with his character telling them how important you are to him and how he needs to find you quickly! It took several practice rehearsals for Mammon to say his lines without sounding so forced or annoyed at him when his role is to literally help Solomon through the journey. 

Levi is quite happy with his role as the costume designer because there’s no way his envy wouldn’t flare up if he had to stand there and listen to that. That would’ve flooded the stage if he lost all control, so he decides to use headphones and blast music when it’s Solomon’s scene and only take it off once it’s you.

Satan would play the role of the narrator, and while he normally enjoys the part he got, it’s quite irritating that he has to tell the love story between you two, even if it’s merely a work of fiction. His claws threatened to tear holes into the script, but he kept himself calm and collected. They decided to put a leather cover binding to avoid that happening, and Satan actually likes how his own personal script looks like a book now. 

Lucifer is questioning why Simeon would write such a piece, given how most lines are so sickening and romantic. The angel wanted to tell a tale of lovers that could overcome everything, though he omits the fact that he really did have you in mind when he was writing this. Maybe he projected a little too much of his feelings, but the play still had more elements regardless that a lot of the audience would be able to enjoy. The action, the drama, and the tension that could keep everyone at the edge of their seats. 

What Simeon did not expect is for the brother’s self control to snap. Maybe he should’ve thought about that when he wrote down that kiss scene. It’s a page he kept between you and Solomon, as he knew that rehearsals would’ve been a disaster if they knew how the story would actually end. Of course he did ask for your permission, if this is something you’re comfortable with and he would rewrite the part if he needed. You don’t mind, and you understand why this was kept private. 

So when the day of the play came, everything was going smoothly. At least according to Simeon’s high standards.

Solomon and Barbatos really do seem to play the perfect role. A good villain doesn't need to yell, it comes with the composure they bring in the story that sometimes people wonder if Barbatos is really acting. The fight scenes were also phenomenal whenever Solomon would use some sort of imagery magic to make it more realistic, sparkes and effects flying in the air as they fought until Barbatos eventually fled, claiming defeat but he will be back for you one day. 

What the brothers thought was a successful play became something they dreaded when you and Solomon continued the scene. These were lines they’ve never heard before, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess where this was heading. Satan is furiously flipping through the script trying to see where this was coming from, but this part was hidden from the Avatars on purpose. 

“Oh how I longed to hold you like this in my arms.” Solomon says as he pulls you in an embrace that lingered longer than the brothers would like while they watched from backstage. 

“Did you truly miss me that much?” You say, meant to be a half tease to the hero as you returned the hug. It’s a romantic reunion that the audience has been waiting for. 

“More than you could ever think.” Solomon sounds so convincing. He says his lines as if you two were truly apart for so long, that there’s disbelief in his voice like this was all a dream and he would wake up to find that his journey is not over, that you were still locked away. But he has you in his arms, and that’s all he needs to ground himself. “Each time I see the crescent moon, I’m reminded of the smile that graced your lips. It pains me whenever I turn to my side and realize that you’re weren’t with me.”

Solomon brushes the hair away from your face before cupping your cheek, looking at you so lovingly that you feel your heart skip a beat, almost forgetting that you’re acting out a scene. But to the sorcerer, he doesn’t need to act. “Tell me, will you grace me with those lips?” He asks, and that’s the cue for you to slowly lean forward to seal the deal. 

“HOLD IT!” 

Both if you freeze before turning back to see Mammon pointing the sword prop at Solomon. The sorcerer is confused, and perhaps a little irritated that his moment with you was ruined. It would’ve been a perfect way to end the play. “What are you doing?” Solomon asks with furrowed brows. 

“That’s my line! Get ya grimy hands off em!” Mammon growled, taking a few steps forward. 

“You’re not even supposed to be part of this narrative.” Solomon reminds the demon, warning him for ruining the scene. 

“You claim that as so,” Satan says as he appears by his brother’s side in a puff of green flames, looking quite pissed. “How dare you rewrite the ending to your liking, and then use the Narrative as your shield. You should be ashamed of yourself, filthy thief.” the demon hissed as he threw the script he fashioned into a book  across the stage. The brothers fully believed they were deceived with the script, and that Solomon had something to do with it.

The audience are now all captivated at the scene unfolding before their eyes as they watched the Narrator throw the book across. Perhaps the book told the whole scene, and that Solomon actually rewrote the ending according to his will since they assumed that script was an actual prop to keep the story going. “Was the hero actually manipulating the whole scene?” “What a crazy twist!” “Wait, so who's the real lover?” “Were they tricked to think that Solomon was the real love interest?!”. Whispers rang in the air as they were all made to believe this was still part of the play

That might be the only way for them to salvage what could’ve been a successful performance: to keep acting. Solomon reluctantly lets go of you before standing up to face the two demons. “I can’t believe you all would cause a scene, after all we’ve been through. After all they’ve been through.” Solomon says as he gestures to you, who is just as confused as the crowd. 

“Ah, so you acknowledge our efforts and yet you get to keep them for yourself?” Belphie steps in on the other side of the stage, with Beel following behind him. “Kinda greedy isn’t it? Even greedier than him.” Belphie says while pointing at Mammon. That somehow got the audience to laugh. 

“That’s pretty selfish too, and that’s coming from me!” Asmo finally chimes in, holding onto his tulle costume while he stomps into the stage. He wouldn’t let his brothers steal all the spotlight, and there was also no way he was going to let Solomon just kiss you like that on the stage. If it were him instead, you both would be the talk of the week! “Honestly dear, that’s quite a big low. Even for someone like you.” 

Simeon is just thankful that Lucifer and Levi didn’t even chime in on this monstrous mess of a show, he has their pride and anxiety (respectively) to thank for. Despite the sudden improv show, it seems that it captured the audience’s attention… just not in the way that he hoped.

Solomon is now putting you behind him with a magic spell flaring by the palm of his hand. Nothing harmful, just something that’s more flashy than anything. The other demons are closing in on you both, trying to make up lines on why you should choose them. Of course, a fight breaks out and everyone in the audience cheered for whoever they were rooting for to win while you stayed behind and watched the chaos unfold. 

It took one wrong spell after another for the boys to lay on the ground, groaning after Satan and Solomon’s stun lock spell collided into something bigger that it affected everyone in the stage except you since you stayed behind. You wondered what you could say or do to salvage this as the audience is watching intently on what happens next. 

Thankfully, Lucifer finally steps on the stage, calm and collected as ever while he tries to avoid the groaning actors. He played as one of the Barbatos’ henchmen that Solomon defeated, so seeing his reappearance was definitely a shock to the crowd. You prayed that Lucifer has a plan on getting you out of this mess without ruining the play you all worked so hard for. Luckily, Simeon told him a few lines that could salvage the play and save you from the embarrassment.

He grabs your hand and kisses the back of it, a small smirk appearing on his face before he continues. “I’m here to collect you, under my master’s orders. It seems that he was right, that none of these heroes were ever deserving of your heart.” Lucifer says while he stares at his idiotic brothers with discontent, managing to stay in character just like you hoped. “Luckily, we don’t need to rely on cheap tricks and underhanded tactics.” 

Solomon groans, rubbing his eyes profusely but his vision won’t focus yet due to the spell. “Don’t listen to them…” He says, desperately trying to reach out to you. Lucifer only lets out a low chuckle as he watches how pathetic the hero has become.

“Come with us, and we’ll be sure to prove them wrong.” His line is full of confidence with a slight mischief, and the crowd cheers as the lights go dark and the curtains drop, signaling the end of the play. 

What should’ve ended in a happy love story became some sort of twist. People now assume the hero might’ve manipulated the scene which they find amusing if the good guy of the story was not who they pictured to be, and the villains may actually have a shot of winning your heart. It’s the talk of the school, and people are praising Simeon for writing such a crazy plot twist, which he finds a little frustrating since it’s the only part he didn’t actually plan. He’s not sure if he wants to thank the brother’s recklessness or not. 

Even after Simeon explained the hidden parts that were reserved just for you and Solomon since he expected something like this could happen at the rehearsals, he never really anticipated that they would jump in the scene like that on the actual performance itself. Now he has to write another play in the future as many expressed their wish to see what happens between you and the dark lord Barbatos. 

Needless to say, many of the brothers were strung upside down by their feet after the show.

[neverfilth]

"Bloberta made Clay drink so-"

OKAY, BUT DO YOU KNOW WHY?

Let me explain

'Help'.

A very important word when describing Bloberta.

First, it is integral to understand that Bloberta feels torturously alone and unwanted. Her friends are all getting married while she has no one.

She isn't clever enough to help Censordoll.

Her own family leaves her out of the family choir. 

And the only crumb of validation she is offered is from her mother.

“Why don't you help me out and… Clean your room?” Note even the slight pause her mother has, as if she doesn't even know what to do with Bloberta.

Next, we see her trudge to her room. And what does she hide under the covers of her bed?

A flask.

She turns to alcohol when she is confronted with how unwanted she is. But where did that draw to alcohol come from?

We know she comes from a home where she is ultimately ignored and seen as valueless by everyone except one person.

Her Father.

I have a lot of thoughts about Bloberta and Raymond's relationship (the one scene where they interact just UGH LIVES IN MY HEAD) but the main thing to get away from it is that she associates the act of drinking with her Father.

A man who, without alcohol, is unable to speak his mind at all. He drinks to better tolerate his situation and his wife, who clearly doesn't value his words or opinions.

But Bloberta is very receptive to her Father, she greatly values his company and his thoughts and she finds comfort in being around him. She feels like someone cares about her and values her even if she knows he can't change anything.

Notice that despite her desperation to speak with her father, to form that connection that would validate her, she can't even touch him because she knows doing so would break the frail connection they have currently. Her Father is so reserved that at this point, any unexpected emotional reach would immediately cause him to shut down and retreat. Demonstrated just by him closing up immediately after she told him she loved him.

So how does this affect Blobertas perception of alcohol?

Well she says it herself.

"I think it helps us to be better people".

This rationality was reinforced by the small acts of kindness her father would show her.

And we don't have any reason to believe she is lying about this because up until the night of the reception, she's experienced nothing that contradicts this belief.

Bloberta's reliance on alcohol can be seen as her reaching for a solution to her need to feel wanted. She knows she's left out, both by friends and family. But if she believes drinking can make you become a better person? Then of course she would drink, because maybe then someone will want her.

What does she say directly after that?

"My Father drinks.”

Further insinuating her belief that he is good and he is the main reason she sees alcohol as a positive force.

She thought it would genuinely help Clay.

There's that word again.

Importantly, notice her clear anxiety and tenseness in her beginning interactions with Clay. From her first question, their conversation began falling apart.

So what happened?

Just after the wedding, she was almost suave in the way she invited Clay to the reception.

Why was she so nervous now?

Well, in her eyes, this was her chance.

After an undisclosed time of having no luck she finally convinces a handsome single man to have some semblance of a date with her.

She NEEDS this to go well.

So she's obviously anxious and stressed, and that's showing, but she figures that some drinks will make it easier for both of them. She's full panicking because she feels it's just so normal to drink, especially socially, and she can't understand why he wouldn't drink. She has no frame of reference for that mindset.

Things are already awkward between them once they settle in, and its not getting better. So of course she is going to fall back on what makes things easier for her.

And initially things are looking up.

Suddenly Clay's more talkative, and more receptive to what she's saying.

He's complimenting her.

He says she helped him.

The one thing she wants more than anything is to feel useful, she wants to be able to fit into that role that everyone expects her to so that she can be of worth to someone.

She isn't worth it to her peers,

she isn't worth it to her family,

but she could be worth it to him.

This only reinforces her resolve. 

This is it.

She is going to finally find her place to fit in, and everyone will welcome her with open arms as she finally finds her place in the role society has chosen for her.

But it's not that simple.

Things go south quickly, Clay doesn't want these things that Bloberta has to have. 

But she needs them.

To Bloberta, those things are proof of your value. The value society, friends, and family place on you.

Who would she be if she couldn't attain that value?

We again recognize that Bloberta has a fixation on being helpful. Helpfulness is the clearest indication of one's value, after all.

After being turned away by Clay, she immediately returns to a default ‘helpful’ act, cleaning. Just like her mother would tell her to do. But this was still her only chance, and Clay had already told her she had helped him. If she could only help him again, then maybe she had a chance at the real value she craved.

Once her anger passes and Clay sobers up, she returns to him and paints herself as ‘helpful’ as possible. She's desperate for that validation again, and if he would agree to her help then everything would certainly be fine.

She is practically begging him, help becomes a plea for him to save her from the pain of her day to day.

She hopes more than anything he will accept her and make all her pain go away.

He does accept, but in exchange, her previous world view is shattered.

Drinks don't help you become a better person.

They just help your true nature come out.

[haikyuuharemdreams]

Rich!Sakusa headcanons ✨

- Sakusa Kiyoomi is not good with words.

- He tries!! He really, REALLY does. But he definitely does better at showing love through acts of services and buying you things that reminds you of him.

- You live in his head rent free, so feel free to simply imagine how much that simp man has actually spent on you. He never minds, of course, money’s is of no issue to him.

- When you show up at his penthouse crying over an upsetting incident that occurred at your workplace, he rushes over to you.

- He has 0 idea what to do. He stands there like 🧍🏻‍♂️

- You wipe your tears away, attempting a forced smile that really isn’t convincing anyone. You tell him that it was minor, there is no need for him to worry and that you’ll be fine.

- It doesn’t matter, though, whether it had truly been minor or not. What matters is that you’re crying, that it pains him, and he feels helpless. He doesn’t know how to fix your problem.

- He sits you down and tries to find out what had happened. You tell him, tears pooling in your eyes and making their way down your cheeks as you recounted the events.

- He thinks, like you said, it was minor. He gets why you’re upset, but it really is a small matter that requires a simple solution. He offers some words of advice and pointed out what you could’ve done better. He also offers to support you in any way you need regarding your workplace situation.

- This only makes you more upset.

- You just wanted some reassurance and words of comfort!!! You just wanted him to express that you’re not incapable and incompetent and careless and stupid and useless!!! But no!!!

- You don’t blame him; you know he’s not the best with words. You know he doesn’t do comfort. But, it hurts.

- You simply just apologise, and hurry to take a shower to cool yourself down. You are too overstimulated and emotional to be capable of communicating how you feel to him without possibly starting a fight.

- Man is, however, confused. He genuinely thought he did a great job at being there for you; he even told you that he wants you to be his wife (disclaimer: he never explicitly said that; he mumbled to you that he’ll support you if you decide you don’t want to work ever. Unfortunately, you didn’t even pick that up.)

- He follows you like a puppy, confused. He wants to ask if he did anything wrong, but you aren’t even acknowledging his presence.

- “Y/N, please, darling.” He knows you like it when he calls you by a pet name. “What’s the matter?”

- His cooing softens your frustration. You turn around, and as you begin to tell him how you feel, you start sobbing. Your words are muddled, but he manages to pick up the gist of what you’re conveying.

- He hugs you, and you go limp in his arms, all tension melting away. He ignores your protests of being unclean and caresses your back. He murmurs comforting words in your eyes, telling you that he’s sorry, validating how you’re feeling and rebutting the negative beliefs you had about yourself.

- He draws up a bath for you and helps you to remove your clothes before his.

- It’s an intimate moment between two people who love each other, okay, nothing MORE!

- He gives the best bath 💯

- He dries you off, blow drying your hair as well, and wraps you up snugly in a towel before doing so for himself. He holds your hand when he’s done, leading you out back into his bedroom.

- He big spoons you in bed, and strokes your hair till you fall asleep.

- Sakusa, though, is unable to fall asleep. After all, the ring is ready in the drawer in the nightstand beside you. He was just finding the right time to propose to you, and you’ll in for a very pleasant surprise !! upon rising.

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival Part 5

Customer Service Prowl.

Credit to @keferon for creating the tf mecha AU!

———————————————————————

The door behind the tactician hissed shut, isolating him from the outside world.

Prowl had a short walk, 11.2 clicks, to the communications terminal. He took exactly as long as was necessary. Not a click sooner.

Injury warning messages were manually silenced. He’d neglected his own self repair for lower priority tasks before. This was no different.

Shutting Tacnet off from working on the Jazz Mystery was a greater struggle. It’d been so long since Prowl had gotten to work through a puzzle like this, it had him booting up long dormant scripts he hadn’t used since working as a detective. The mental stretching warmed him up. It felt good. But it wasn’t what was currently required of him. He shut off that branch of his processor too.

Tactical estimates only.

For now.

Like packing up his room, Prowl “got into uniform”.

Optic hue shifted to within the parameters of the socially accepted spectrum.

Doorwings lifted high and almost pressed together, neither spread out in intimidation nor lowered in submission.

Helm tiled forward 24 degrees to cast the maximum level of shadow over his features while not obscuring vision.

Prowl reached the terminal like a silent storm.

He nodded the minimum angle required to be interpreted as bowing for the manifestation of War resolving on the screen.

“Lord Megatron.”

He glared from beneath his chevron, pricks of light in a darkened room.

“What are your demands?”

———————————

The course of action Megatron required tactical support for was frankly amateur. The solution incredibly simple.

Sentinel Prime had once more prodded the leader of the revolution into a vengeful fury, so now Megatron wanted to, of course, retaliate violently.

The correct course of action was to not engage.

It was clearly a trap designed to whittle away their limited resources, which would have been idiotic even if the Quintessons were not a factor in the equation. Since they were however, it lowered Prowls opinion of both leaders even further that they’d even considered reigniting the civil war at a time like this.

No, what truly challenged Prowls strategic prowess wasn’t the request itself, but how to tell Megatron “That is an idiotic idea and how dare you expect me to entertain it.”

The trick, after much trial and error, was to not tell him at all.

“There are 24 optimal targets for a retaliatory attack Lord Megatron. 8 of which would yield material gain if taken and 3 of which would yield additional territory.”

All three of the territorial land grabs overlapped with the material gains category. However, when phrased correctly, it both implied even more options for Megatron to pick through and forced him to choose from plans Prowl had decided in advance.

Megatron gave the illusion of consideration.

He selected the land grab options, for the obvious purpose of irking the standing Prime. It took one to know one and megalomaniacs despised having their property made smaller. Stolen goods were numbers on a page. A map was a picture of what was lost.

“Very well. For the most expedient retaliatory strike, the mining depot on ES 9-B33 will be ideal for your conquering.”

Prowl had the mining depot mission lined up for close to a vorn. It was on the edge of Cybertronian territory, minimally guarded and would provide the Decepticons with a cache of ever needed raw materials. And while it was a great boon for their small faction, to the sprawling colonial power of Cybertron, it was hardly worth notice.

Which meant Sentinel and the Functionalist government shouldn’t waste resources on restarting the Civil war (66%).

Megatron, satisfied in his ignorance, ordered Prowl to draw up the assault plans immediately.

Prowl was sorely tempted to tell the deception to “do it himself” and not just to get him out of the picture for a time.

It was a very rare thing for Tacnet to come up with 100% certainty. However, Prowl could say, with terrible absolute certainty, that nothing short of a true Prime, or maybe an exploding star, could take Megatron in a fight.

The mech had forced Prowl to reset his parameters of what a cybertronian could physically survive no less than 13 times. At least 5 of those being assassination attempts from Starscream, whose preferred method of execution was “beyond all reasonable restraint.”

Until further notice, Megatron was an immovable piece of the board that required skillful circumvention.

“The plan will be drafted in 4 breems Lord Megatron.” Prowl dipped his helm and did not break eye contact until the screen went dark.

Prowl connected to the communications system, pinging Soundwave for the most recent updates on ES 9-B33, layering the new information over his original outline.

Once received, it required only a fractional amount of processing power to run through which decepticons were available for action, filter out those not suited for the job and sort the minutiae of coordinating supply ships to reroute to arrive at the depot as the assault team would be wrapping up.

Will softened by boredom, temptation won out and Prowl turned the bulk his processing power to Jazz.

Details laid out plainly, it painted a concerning picture.

Jazz was a highly skilled combatant, he solely exists to kill Quintessons by his own admission.

And he loves music.

Jazz speaks a language neither Prowl nor Bluestreak have ever encountered, Jazz himself having never interacted with Common, let alone standard Cybertronian.

Jazz was exceptionally sociable, even going as far as to try and play card games with hostile organics. Yet even pressed chassis to chassis, not once did Prowl detect an EM field.

And he’s a shameless flirt.

Jazz had many unusual physical attributes, such as abnormal ranges of motion, multi jointed legs, and in spite of all his injuries, Prowl hadn’t seen so much as a drop of energon.

Jazz possessed a disturbingly high pain tolerance, and was at best accustomed to substandard medical treatment, if not outright abuse.

And he’s never felt a kind touch before.

When Bluestreak had asked about him, Prowl had told his brother that Jazz was an alien mechanical lifeform and to not harass him unnecessarily. Between his physical bizarreness and lack of common knowledge among cybertronians, it was a natural conclusion.

But something hadn’t been quite right ever since Prowl had rescued the mech. There was this nagging inconsistency with Jazz’s behavior.

He was very curious about Prowl, yet seemed far more in awe of the other alien life forms and ships they’d been traveling with. There was also the immediate (and somewhat overwhelming) familiarity with which Jazz conducted himself around Prowl.

It was almost as if…

Jazz doesn’t consider Prowl to be alien (88%).

If he thinks Prowl is the same species as him, then would that mean Jazz doesn’t realize he’s the alien?

Unless.

An alternate, unpleasant theory began to weave.

Unless Jazz isn’t an alien at all.

Prowl finished the assault plan and sent it with a harsh hand. Re-opening his comms to the backlog of messages from Bluestreak, he scrolled back to something his brother had said when he’d been repairing Jazz’s visor.

BLUESTREAK: [WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF.]

Too far.

PROWL: [Please do not comment aloud.]

BLUESTREAK: [Is he really fully in recharge? Just like that?]

PROWL: [No. Jazz is still conscious. He’s not completely limp either just… very sedated.]

BLUESTREAK: [Just from holding his face? C’mon Prowl, that’s weird. This is weird. You found a weird, weird mech who definitely has a thing for you.]

PROWL: [He does not have a “thing” for me.]

BLUESTREAK: [Oh yeah? What are you getting from his EM field then?]

PROWL: [Nothing. He doesn’t have an EM field Bluestreak. Jazz is an alien and likely doesn’t have all the same traits as a cybertronian.]

BLUESTREAK: [Are you sure? I mean, the anesthetic worked fine. And he looks pretty cybertronian to me.]

BLUESTREAK: [Maybe he has field atrophy? You had that once. I couldn’t feel you even if I was touching you.]

That was when Prowl had been apart of the decepticon High Command. He’d spent multiple Vorn isolating himself, doing nothing but churning through battle plans and inventory logs and reconnaissance reports with little rest. Then there was the first time he crashed.

A minor setback at first. Almost immediately Prowl went back to work. Over and over again, he’d bypass previous limitations of the decepticon military. With each success, the bar was placed a little higher, with is successive crash, the recovery took a little longer.

There were always improvements to be made. He’d long moved on from the most needed structural changes to continuously finer tuned modifications to how the entire faction operated. He sharpened Megatrons rebellion scrap into keen edged blades.

Prowl did anything for the edge.

Even down to the smallest percent.

Even down to the smallest decimal point of a percent.

At Prowls worse, when he had just started to tip over to spending the majority (51%) of his waking time in recovery from continuous Crashes, he had come up with a strategy that would give the decepticons a 0.04% advantage in the long run against the Quintessons.

Repairing critically damaged ships was not cost effective. If a ship’s structural integrity fell beneath 14%, Prowl had instituted a script to cause the ship to self destruct. Therefore causing maximum damage to surrounding attackers in a final blow.

Prowl stared at his reflection in the black glass.

You couldn’t see the break in his nose anymore, Smokescreen had punched him in the medbay so it was fixed fairly quickly.

0.04%

Bluestreak was stuck in the medbay for a quarter of a Vorn.

Prowl straightened, optics returning to his default blue. The injury warning messages eeked back into his processor, causing his doorwings to shake briefly before Prowl allowed them to drop.

If the Functionalists had someone like him in their employ, then Jazz may not be an alien at all.

———————————————————————

To all the folks who picked up on the clues, good job! There’s no Optimus and there’s no Autobots. Yet.

There’s more to how Prowl got into his current situation later and I’m sure Jazz will be “totally cool” with Prowls past life choices. And current life choices. And general sense of ethics.

Bluestreak knows Prowl’s responsible for blowing him up and uses it to blackmail him constantly once their relationship got better again.

(Cybertronian timescales are weird, but a Vorn is basically a “year” for them, and fifty years for a human. A breem is pretty consistently 8 minutes.)

-SSTP

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

So there’s something about Pekka Rollins that has bothered me literally since I first read the books and I think about it every time I read them okay and it’s this line:

“Who is Pekka Rollins?” Matthias asked, turning the ridiculous syllables over in his mouth. Kerch names had no dignity to them.

And this catches me out every single time because Rollins is Kaelish. As far as the reader knows for definite, “Pekka Rollins” is a Kaelish name, not a Kerch name.

Now, don’t get me wrong, we’re of course aware that Matthias is very sheltered from understanding the global scene and may simply have assumed that Rollins is Kerch because he lives in Ketterdam and runs the Dime Lions (this is the only piece of information he knows about him at this time) but I think this is unlikely considering that it was on a mission to the Wandering Isle that he met Nina and we know that, although he doesn’t speak Kaelish, he knows how to recognise it well enough that he knew Nina was speaking Kaelish and not Kerch or Ravkan (at the time he was monolingual, as he would later only learn Kerch by necessity in Hellgate).

And thinking about the name “Pekka Rollins” it doesn’t sound all that Kaelish… does it? Our examples of Kaelish names include “Fianna” (Nina’s Kaelish pseudonym at the Ice Court), “Colm”, “Eamon” (Dime Lions member), and “Harshaw”, but not many others to my recollection. Kaelish names are inspired by Celtic languages and Celtic names, as far as I can tell usually with more Irish and Scottish Gaelic influences than Welsh, Cornish, or Breton (but please note I am by no means an expert and I sadly do not speak any of these languages), and we can see this trend in our examples. But can we see it in “Pekka Rollins”? Or does this name favour the structure of Kerch names? “Kaz”, “Per”, “Wylan”, “Alys”, “Hiram”, “Gert”, “Henrik”, “Jellen”, and so many many more examples, we are overflowing with examples of Kerch names (if you are wondering about more examples I’d recommend checking out the Grishaverse wiki there’s a full list on there of all the characters mentioned from each country, but note it doesn’t include any pseudonyms as far as I’m aware), that tend to favour more separated syllables and harsher consonant sounds than, say, “Fianna” where the name runs quickly together, pronounced to have two syllables when it would probably be said with three by someone Kerch who only saw it written down, with more emphasis on the “yah” sound of the “ia” than the double “n”?

So is it, in fact, possible that “Pekka Rollins” is a Kerch name? A chosen name, by a man who fled his home to restart his life in a new city, with a name that matched it? Is this supposed to imply yet another parallel between Pekka and Kaz?????

I have no idea, this is purely theoretical, but considering that they are narrative foils and we can draw many, many parallels between them and this line is always on my mind, it’s personally my favourite solution. If you agree/disagree or have a different theory, let me know! I love stuff like this so much, it’s so interesting to see what different people think or how we might have read certain details differently

[multiverse-menagerie]

Perchance… could I request the bg3 companions with a Tav who has a bleeding heart? They’ll do what they need to do, kill who they need to, etc. but they still are easily tricked by just basic human kindness and often feel guilty for killing folk and whatnot. They’re ridiculously caring towards the party as well, often putting their needs above their own.

Karlach

Karlach gets it. She really does. But she’s been through (literal) Hell and has learned to be a bit more cautious

But she adores how much you love and trust people

I almost see her as someone who would go behind after you to set people straight if they conned you or anything like that

Something about it is so heartwarming ;) to Karlach, watching you take care of everyone - herself included. She wants you to look after her forever while she does the same for you

Shadowheart

almost disgusted by your altruism, in the beginning. She sees no point in it and points it out readily to you

Deep down though, even in the beginning, she likes it and almost envies you for it. She feels bad for speaking down to you especially after she’s had time by your side

Shadowheart enjoys being doted on and care for. She enjoys that you treat your friends like family and that you’re all carving out a little place for y’all

She’ll pout if you’re fussing over someone more than her, though she tries to deny it

Lae’zel

Similarly to Shadowheart, I think at first Lae’zel would find your actions unnecessary and dragging. She’s on a time crunch and knows where she needs to go, and helping all these people isn’t helping y’all

I’m not sure Lae’zel would ever truly warm up to being so willing to lend a helping hand. But I think she would appreciate and commend (and come to respect) you for being able to care so deeply for others (she’s not so certain she’s capable of that magnitude)

Forces you to take care of yourself and won’t hear shit about it; no she didn’t cook this meal just for you to ignore it bc Shadowheart needs to traumadump some more, eat you doofus

Gale

Gale finds it endearing, if a little worrisome. He’s happy to let you fawn over your camp mates but he’s draws the line at being so easily swayed by strangers

He tries to be diplomatic when he’s urging you away from suspicious individuals bc he really doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you need to change, he’s just trying to protect you to his best ability

Gale’s not particularly used to being doted on, but it’s almost…relieving, in a way. Refreshing?

He does work very hard to make sure you’re taken care of as well, cooking good meals and forcing coercing you to bed at a reasonable time

Wyll

heart eyes

Wyll himself sees (or wants to see) the world through rose colored glasses so he’s enamored that you do

He’s also probably one of the only ones to really understand your guilt over killing, even when necessary. He’s happy to talk you through your emotions over it and never hesitates to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing

flusters when your attention turns to him, but doubles it back in repayment to you

Astarion

Astarion seethes at first. He hates your tender-heartedness, hates how kind and soft you are, how loving you are with everyone, it’s just grinds against him

As he sorts through his trauma (and comes to appreciate your care, towards him and your friends at least) he stops whining about it…as much

He will absolutely shut someone down if they’re trying to use, manipulate, or fool you. Astarion only refrains from more…permanent silencing solutions because he knows you wouldn’t like it

He does, however, preen under your attention. True, no-strings-attached care? It takes him a long time to comfortable with it but he cherishes it

Halsin

While he certainly adores your tenderness, he tries to caution you over being too willing to blindly believe someone

Halsin is happy to comfort you through any remorse or guilt of course, but is quick to remind you that this is simply the way the world works

Watching you take care of your little band of misfits makes him melt. You care for them and then he cares for you when you come to him at the end of the day

Halsin would carry your burdens for you if he could, instead he’ll travel by your side and help you help others (while giving you looks that make you swoon let’s be real)

[thewertsearch]

Ah, the Sylladex. Across the entirety of my long, long journey through this comic, you've remained my oldest and dearest friend.

I honestly thought you'd run out of ways to surprise me - but as usual, I underestimated just how far you can really go with punch-card alchemy.

You flip the card over and look at the back. The thing about this modus you think is really cool is that instead of showing a completely useless wobbly garbled code on the back, it itemizes the components which could be used to create it!

The comic has just given us a way to reverse-engineer item recipes, which was one of the only missing pieces left to slot into the alchemy system. Back in Act 4, John was convinced that this was impossible, but Sollux solved it off-panel, and now we know how he did it.

This is pretty crazy, isn't it? We can deconstruct items now, allowing us to disassemble any object, and take a peek at the concepts that it's synthesized from. The potential utility here is insane. If this modus works on ghost images, we could tear apart a Kernelsprite, and see what makes it tick. Hell, we could tear apart a Genesis Frog.

...we could tear apart Skaia.

Just another wonderful innovation by your favorite company. It releases many products of an experimental nature, often with applicability to other kinds of technology and products which haven't hit the market yet.

But, of course, this wonderful innovation comes with some serious strings attached. I'm sure it was given to Jane for a reason, and she'll undoubtedly end up using it in a way that causes problems for us, and solutions for Lord English.

Ayy, it's the Matriorb!

Granted, this doesn't really help Kanaya recreate the thing. The orb's code was never that hard to obtain - just draw it on Jade's Pictionary modus, or something. No, the real issue is that the Matriorb is virtually inimitable, and as a result, its Grist cost is astronomical. Plus, it requires a type of Grist that we've never even seen before.

Edit: Wait, hang on. That's not the cost of the Matriorb, that's how much it would cost to use the Matriorb to make the hat. Strange, that the same item can have multiple Grist costs - but nonetheless, my point still stands. The Matriorb is probably too expensive to alchemize casually.

I suppose there's nothing stopping us from editing the Matriorb's code to try and make it cheaper. Like, perhaps we could scale down the recipe somehow, and try to just synthesize a single troll's genome, rather than the genetic base of an entire race. That would be a lot more affordable, and still useful.

You captchalogue your FAVORITE HAT, which is also your ONLY HAT. You spent basically your ENTIRE CHILDHOOD in this hat, pretending to be hard boiled detectives and whatnot.

I guess it sort of makes sense that the Matriorb can be used to make Dad's hat. The orb represents Alternian parenthood, and the book of prophecies it was merged with could represent the future. Combine those two concepts, and you get the future of parenthood, from the perspective of Alternia - in other words, the parenthood of humanity. So, the merger yields an item representing a human parent: Dad Egbert's hat.

Don't ask me about the potted plant, though. I haven't the foggiest.

[niuttuc]

Weird Magic: the Gathering effects: Fourth edition

Starting last year, and on three separate occasions, I've ran polling games listing weird magic the gathering card effects among which hid one fake one, to see how easy it was to figure out. It's time for another!

Like previous instances, this is intended for people who aren't experts at magic and would recognize all the cards instantly, more as entertainment for people outside the game, but I've been told it also works for plenty of actual magic players. There are certainly effects there I didn't know existed in specific before pulling this poll together.

As last time, only the current text of effects is used, not necessarily the one printed on the card. Limited to cards that exist in paper, and are legal to play in at least some tournament formats. Though I did expand in previous polls to text that's part of keyword rules or that's part of the current reminder text on at least one card, and that might apply here as well.

This time some of the cards are less obscure, but I wanted to include them because they're flavorful bits of text. Without further ado...

I will give one bit of context for people who don't play the game at all: your library is what your deck of cards is called while a game is going.

EDIT: the poll is over, time to add the solution under the cut on this message! It is also available in a reblog here, if you prefer that.

First, the Correct answer, and then the rest by order of voting percentage.

Whenever this creature becomes goaded, it fights up to one target creature (35.4%)

This first answer was the correct one, as was recognized by the majority (most of which, I assume, are Magic players who recognized the rest.) It was written as something that makes flavorful sense, and inspired by both Goad and the old mechanic of Provoke using similar meanings. Provoke later evolved into Fighting.

As mentioned, I like this effect, I ended up making a custom card with that mechanic while waiting for the poll to be over, though the wording is slightly different and that won't be in this post.

--

This creature isn't a creature (17.5%)

This text doesn't appear printed on any card, but it is the current text of Weeping Angel from the Doctor Who set following a templating update of cards to avoid using their own name to refer to themselves, except for legends. Of course, within larger context. I've seen some people guess Gods from Theros as the source of this text, but since they're all legendary, they use their own names still, or a shortened version rather.

This is such a nonsensical line to be on a card that I knew it needed an inclusion here.

--

Put a +1/+2 counter on target creature. (10.7%)

In the early days of magic, stats-buffing (or stats-reducing) counters weren't relegated to mere +1/+1 and -1/-1 counters. There were some +2/+2, -0/-1, +0/+1 counters and more, and when they mixed it made tracking the size of a creature with them a nightmare, so they stopped doing that. During that time, exactly ONE card, Armor Thrull, was created that put a +1/+2 counters on a creature. Neat and also weird!

--

Redistribute any number of players’ life totals. (9.1%)

A very unique effect, Reverse the Sands is rarely worth the inclusion in any deck, but it is quite impactful. Printed in a game before commander hit big, expecting two players most of the time, it wasn't that different from other life swapping effects, but with Multiplayer becoming such a big part of the game nowadays, it's fun to have around.

--

Your devotion to each color and each combination of colors is increased by one. (7.5%)

Devotion is a mechanic found in the ancient greek mythology setting of Theros within magic, caring how deeply you commit yourself to any given colors by encouraging you to play harder-to-cast permanents of that color. In the latest return to Theros, there is one card, Altar of the Pantheon, that has a weird effect of artificially altering your devotion without any cost shenanigans.

--

If this creature would be destroyed, regenerate it. (5.8%)

Mossbridge Troll has a unique effect of just ALWAYS regenerating for free whenever it would be destroyed, be it by damage or destroy effects. In practice, it's mostly a fancy version of indestructible.

It also allows me to mention Mossbridge Troll from Shadowmoor is the creature associated with Mosswort Bridge from Lorwyn. Each of the five original Hideaway lands in Lorwyn had an associated "awakened" creature in Shadowmoor! Not the most obscure fact, but neat to know about.

--

Other creatures are Food (3.9%)

A delightfully flavorful (well, except for all the salt) piece of rules text from Ygra here. Everything is Food for the Eater of All.

--

1/1 named Legitimate Businessperson. (2.9%)

Witness Protection is a pretty normal design, but changing the name of the creature is a really neat touch that just adds a bit of flavor and makes it a card dear to many. It's funny how a small change like that can make a boring common into a card many remember for years to come. It even made its way into the "core" experience of the game through the Foundations expansion later on!

--

You draw cards from the bottom of your library rather than the top. (2.6%)

Another appearance from Doctor Who, this time with River Song, who has an ability that is pretty flavorful, but in practice doesn't do much, since the cards at the bottom of your library are just as random as the ones on the top. Or are they? It's marginally easier to set up the bottom of your deck than the top of it, and to create loops with that and cards that put stuff back onto the bottom of your deck from your graveyard.

Unfortunately, that easily devolves back into infinite extra turns, which is very flavorful for a time traveler, but generally frowned upon in more social environments.

--

Whenever another creature you control dies, investigate. (1.9%)

This one isn't that weird, but I wanted to include it for just how flavorful it is to investigate the murder of your creatures. Except of course you're likely the one to be doing the murdering for all those sweet clues. Oops?

This effect does not specify nontoken creatures, which means it's actually quite easy to make bucketloads of clues with it. Or an infinity, if you turn your clues into creatures themselves, so be wary of that because it's easy to end up in an infinite loop you can't stop, which causes the game to end in a draw, drowned in clues.

Protection from everything (1.6%)

Protection from everything has appeared on a few cards, but the most iconic (though not the most played, that'd be Teferi's Protection), is Progenitus, the first to feature it. A giant creature that's almost impossible to cast and can't be cheated into play from the graveyard, Progenitus has impressed many a player!

Unfortunately, it's both clunky to actually use and not immune to everything. While EVERYTHING does mean everything, Protection has a relatively narrow definition in the game rules, and Magic is a game where very specific rules matter. Getting rid of a Progenitus is difficult, but far from impossible. Any effect that blankets destroys or exiles all creatures will remove it just as easily as everything else.

Venture into the dungeon. (1%)

Venture into the Dungeon was one of the main mechanics for the first D&D set Magic has done, Adventures in the Forgotten Realms. They revisited it later on in the second with a slight variation. While flavorful, the mechanic involved a lot of extra baggage involving having three extra Dungeon cards to pick from each with several abilities and to plan a trip through them and... It ended up seeing just a little bit of play, and not being the designers' best work, even if it had a LOT of flavor.

Thank you for participating and reading through all this! See you in the fifth edition if I ever put it together!

[lorena-art]

Ok, 2025 has just started and I decided to go back to my beloved TIMBERN and the au's I love so much. It took me like a week to finish this and I'm happy to see that I haven't gotten as bad at drawing as I thought despite not being able to practice as often as before.

Ok, now the context. It's not very long, since I drew this scene on impulse. It's another Bernard/Dionysus AU with the added bonus that Tim in this case is the reincarnation of Ariadne and the only thing that prevented an angry god from turning everyone in Gotham into animals. After his rude awakening Dionysus was completely furious but all that was forgotten immediately he saw Ariadne, as beautiful and stunning as when he met her in Naxos crying over her new body. Of course, Tim doesn't remember any of this and just happens to have seen his friend Bernard get stabbed to death by a cult of madmen and collapses in grief and guilt because he was late again. Only for the body to rise up, still bleeding and chest open screaming in Greek with a deranged grin. I don't have much more to it than that, really. The scene in the picture is Dionysus/Bernard just waking up and getting déjà vu about his first meeting with Ariadne on the Island of Naxos where she was abandoned by Theseus. I was reading up on them and I imagined Dionysus meeting a very reluctant and angry Ariadne, who is crying at being abandoned and the God decides he wants to see her smiling face and will do anything to make that happen. Now in Gothan the myth is coming to life again. Dionisio wants to court his wife (who is now a husband, and that doesn't bother him at all) and Tim trying by all means to keep him entertained while the others look for a solution and he's being influenced little by little to remember what was in the past.

(what Bernard/ Dyonisus is shouting is "Ariadne!!", but I don't know any ancient Greek so this comes from Wikipedia)

ok, that was all, I hope you liked it 💕

Below is the image as I really imagined it, with Tim crying and recreating much more the first meeting between the two.

[avelera]

I do have one thing and one thing only to say about the Neil Gaiman revelations.

Others more articulate than I have gone into detail on the horror of it. It should go without saying that fans across every fandom linked to him are horrified and each dealing with the revelations in their own way. My thoughts below may seem, I don't know, pithy in response but I'm not trying to address the enormity of what happened or offer any sort of solution, or comfort, or anything but my own confusion on a particular, perhaps even silly point. This is just my own moment to grapple with an aspect of the revelation that just won't get out of my head.

Here's a thing I don't get. It's a stupid thing, even ridiculous, but it haunts me:

Why remake the comic issue "Calliope" in the Sandman show? If you're N.G. and you know what you've done?? How could you be so fucking stupid? Or is it pure hubris? Why in the world would you update it so Madoc bore more similarities to current N.G., with such similar crimes of hypocrisy, using progressiveness as a mask over such crimes of sexual abuse?? Why wouldn't you try to distract or at least not bring such direct parallel attention to what you've done in your own story??

Writing Calliope in the first place as a younger man is one thing. The Sandman comic is edgy and dark and a story like that fits the 90s era grimdark tone. And many accounts seem to point to him not having committed any of those crimes back when he wrote Calliope. His ability to commit and get away with such abuse, perhaps even his interest in doing so I don't fucking know, came later, once he had money and power and influence. Sure, take that as you will, I don't claim to know, but most of the accounts seem to be from after he was 40 and he wrote Calliope long before that.

But the Calliope update in the Sandman show so specifically seems to draw parallels between Madoc and Gaiman. Like, there's a whole bit about how Madoc wants any shows or movies based in his work to have at least half women and people of color, Madoc is posing himself as this progressive feminist and the disgusting hypocrisy of it of course is that he has a woman he's abusing locked up in the attic.

I remember watching that scene, while watching this remake of Sandman that is, of course, more than half women and people of color. One of the biggest dudebro complaints against the Sandman show was that Lucienne got genderswapped and Death was played by a black woman. Like, you're watching the show where the acclaimed author's works are getting a progressive facelift, in the episode, with a fictional author, who is demanding the progressive facelift for film versions of his work, while he's being a vile predatory hypocrite with a woman locked in the attick.

I remember watching that scene and thinking, astounded and rather anxious for him, "My god, Neil must have absolute ironclad certainty that he has never done anything that can be construed as sexually inappropriate if he's making this update to the characters with parallels that could so clearly apply to him as well! He must be totally wholesome, faithful to his wife, and careful around fans. He must be 100% dead certain that he is above reproach because even a whisper, a false accusation of impropriety, one unhappy fan at an event, could make this episode look like the rankest hypocrisy. Why would you ever dare remake Calliope, and remake it so specifically to model after Neil, if you're Neil, unless you're 1000% certain Madoc's update doesn't apply to you at all?"

Like, even the most squeaky clean person in the world has gotta hesitate a bit when drawing a potential parallel between themselves as the author of the work and a villain in the work, and saying "This is me if I was a bad person." RIGHT? Like you've gotta have a moment's hesitation, even if you know none of it is true, before you dare risk drawing such parallels and literally updating the work into the script to make it more like you. Even if you know you've never done anything wrong in your life as an author, when you create Madoc, who is an author, who voices similar views to things you've said, you've gotta have a moment's hesitation just in case people misconstrue that the other villainous stuff applies to you too, right?

I think there's a part of me that like... understands obviously that there's evil in the world but sometimes what makes me additionally angry is when evil is stupid? Like when really obvious fraud is committed, or when the coverup is just really blatantly false. And this kind of falls into that category of like, what were you thinking drawing attention to your own potential abuse of power with fans, how your own progressive ideals could be rank hypocrisy over a mask of horror, that you could be saying all these feminist things while keeping a woman locked up and assaulted in your attic, almost literally, why would you even dare put that-- I mean, I daresay, confession out into the world and make the parallels so obvious, to actually update the parallels to be more like you now! Why would you dare do that?!

I can only imagine two answers:

It wasn't Neil. It was the other show creators who came up with the idea, because they truly thought Neil was above reproach (or maybe they did know some element of the truth and it WAS a warning but that feels less likely with him as executive producer that he'd let that in) and he couldn't cut it from the story without raising questions about why he wanted this rather salient update to the character removed without raising questions, especially if Orpheus & Calliope plot was going to a big thing later in the story.

It was Neil's choice to put that update in and it is some sort of twisted confession or he didn't see the parallels or he truly didn't think anyone would spot it or know?? But again WHY make Madoc progressive in such a specifically similar way to Neil?! Madoc didn't need to be progressive! He didn't need to say his films should be adapted to be more diverse the same way Neil did, in a show that was adapted to be more diverse! You didn't need to make the parallels to Neil so goddamn glaring, you could just adapt it directly to the comic and avoid the possible parallel! Why risk it??

It's a stupid thing to get stuck on, I know. But it baffles me, the sheer... hubris of it? The foolishness? I can't control what happened, I can't help the victims, and many fans are grappling with many questions about this but still, holy shit...

Why update Calliope with a Madoc that is so much like Neil, knowing as Neil did how deep the parallels actually went? Why, in the fucking world, would you ever fucking do that??

[eriochromatic]

What are your thoughts on what Silco was like before Vander tried to drown him? I'm seeing these takes on the Silco tag that he was always a bad person and not a real revolutionary, but I don't think that's true. The flashbacks suggest he was coming from a sincere place but became selfish, paranoid, and power hungry (controlling) post-fallout.

LOL I mean you're asking a Silco artist (who specifically likes drawing him in domestic settings) what they think about Silco. so like. no he's not a bad person to me haha.

Of course I'm in the camp that his actions were sincere, perhaps I'm a being a bit generous but I think his actions in s1 are still consistent with that sincerity of wanting undercity independence. We never know exactly what he was going to do once he got his nation of Zaun, so that can be left in the Schrodinger's box of interpretations, positive or negative. But he pretty much agreed to all of Jayce's non Jinx demands like stopping shimmer production and giving hextech back to Piltover. You could even argue that he didn't push back on the blockade that much because he knew he was close to getting independence and could temporarily stop shimmer trade. He specifically says "Jinx will deal with [the blockade]" which is a bit strange bc its not like Jinx is known for her diplomacy LOL. But I think it's because he knows Jinx is currently building a hextech weapon, and the blockade truly won't be an issue once they can just blast through it with Fishbones. Also, that entire scene was clearly there to indicate that unlike the other chem barons who can only see temporary solutions to fix their trade issues, Silco's underlying motivations are still Zaunite independence, not selfish capitalistic gains. Like, Finn clearly did not fucking understand how much power Zaun now has with the hex crystal, he was only focused on blockade hurting his own business.

Honestly calling Silco selfish is the weirdest take to me because the only selfishness we see him display is in relation to Jinx, and his possessiveness is more of a fear of abandonment than actually wanting to control her imo. I guess makes sense ppl might think of Silco that way since we see Silco most often in relation to Jinx, so that colors ppl's opinions. But if you take in account all the scenes that have nothing to do with Jinx… idk I find he's more lenient than the non-Silco fandom makes him out to be. Act 1 his ill will towards Vander was because of ideological and not personal reasons- he was willing to take Vander back if Vander supported Silco's ways. like. thats kind of insane to me. Silco already forgave Vander for ATTEMPTING TO MURDER HIM but was like "you know what's actually unforgivable? you becoming an enforcer bootlicker" idk how much more you can do to show that Silco isn't really motivated by personal selfish reasons (until Jinx came into his life) but revolutionary ones. And honestly I think he himself did not realize how much he loved Jinx until she nearly died, I don't believe for a second he was trying to manipulate her at any point in time. He's just a broken person trying to fix another broken person but like there's a reason why you gotta wear the oxygen mask first before helping your kid, I don't blame him for unintentionally pushing his trauma onto Jinx since it's not like there's therapy in Zaun

So yeah like. I see Silco in a very sympathetic light LOL, flawed and misguided perhaps but doing what he believes is necessary for success… you could argue that under Vander's leadership they would've just continued to be under Piltover's heel forever and Silco at least got something done idk. so I definitely see flashback Silco as someone who's even less culpable of whatever crimes he commits later on, he probably still has a bit of that youthful naivety and hope before the bridge incident fucked everything over lol. and I mean. as much as s2 was a mess, it unfortunately is canon. s2e7 Silco is clearly a well adjusted individual, if he really was a "bad person" I don't think the show would bother showing him in that AU.

Ultimately though I think people see what they want to see, if they already have a bad impression on him the flashback won't do him any favors, they'll just fit his actions into the box they've already given him.

Slight side tangent, there's a visual novel called Umineko (WHICH I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD READ, IT SHOULD BE REQUIRED READING), and a big theme in the story is "Without love, it cannot be seen," and that has really influenced the way I interact with characters in fictional narratives.

Obviously I love Silco as a character, I wouldn't be spending all this time drawing him if I didn't, and I've probably spent more time thinking about him than the average Arcane viewer. If a person watches Arcane and doesn't like Silco, I won't be surprised they come out of it with a surface level understanding of him without really diving deep into his motivations and actions. It's actually pretty funny because the friend that got me into Arcane was one of those Vi stans whose perception on him was on the more negative side but bc I yapped about him so much they've switched over to seeing the more positive side of him. And I mean same with me and Vi, I don't think I would like her as much as I do if it wasn't for that friend haha

[priyajoyy]

Dumb bunny part 2

Dark!shauna shipman x reader x dark!natalie scattorcio x dark!lottie Matthew’s

(Eventual dark characters)

Masterlist here

For more chapters the first 8 are published on wattpad @priyajoyy !! (Same story but with an oc not reader)

"I am so so sorry mr burns, my husband is now parking, he apologises for being late, his meeting got pushed back" you said with a smile, taking a seat next to Harrison Williams, your middle son.

You smiled at the man prettily, the perfect kind that could charm anyone into listening to you.

A little tilt of your head, a batter of your eyelashes, had anyone falling in your pretty little lap.

"Well that's no worries mrs Williams" the elder man responded with a laugh, "we all know how hard you and your husband work"

Harrison grimaced as the man seemingly sucked up to his mother, watching him make the closest the miserable old man could form next to a smile.

And his mother, always the perfect little housewife, laughs along accordingly, not one hair out of place.

"It's only a shame we had to pull him out of work under...such circumstances" the principal said, his scowl appearing again at the end of his sentence.

Ah there he is. The real principal burns that parents only pretend to tolerate for the sake of their children attending a lovely school.

"Of course-" you responded softly, getting cut off by a man entering the room.

Oh brilliant, his father was here.

"What have you done now!?" The boys father asked as he stormed into the office, looking at him as he sat in the seat to the right of his own.

"Honey..." you reprimanded, drawing your husband's attention.

The man looks back at you, sighing before turning to the principal to shake his hand, "Mr burns"

"Mr Williams" the man greets, "thank you for joining us..."

The two of you watched the man intently, as your son slouched in his seat with little interest.

"As you know Wiskayok academy is a very prestigious institution" the man says firmly, pride coating his voice.

"Of course" you responded smoothly, "that's why we chose it"

"Yes well at Wiskayok academy we must insure that we keep it to the standards of our name..." he says cryptically, "and I'm afraid that as of late, Harrison here hasn't been doing such..."

Harrison rolls his eyes.

"He's been disruptive in class, skipping lessons, and his grades have been slipping astronomically" the man continues, "if his attendance or grades slip any further, we're going to have to discuss more permanent solutions..."

Great, your son was going to get expelled...

"Well that won't be necessary will it Harrison..." the boys father said sternly, glaring at the boy who was avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah sure whatever" the boy mutters in annoyance.

"Harrison"  you interjected, your before soft voice, hardening, "apologise to mr burns please"

"Yeah sorry I'll do better" he grimaced out, looking at the old man with as close as a neutral face he could get.

🐇🎀🧸🩰

"Miss Williams?" A voice called out from across the car park.

The two of you were on their way back to their cars, their son begrudgingly following behind with his headphones on.

You turned, your husband too, both finding a shorter brunette with a notepad, rushing over to you.

"Hello?" You responds politely.

"I was hoping to have a word with you?" The mystery woman responds, making you and your husband look at each other.

"Do I know you?" You responded hesitantly.

"Oh no! But I've been trying to get ahold of your office for the last week. no response"

"Normally that means I'm busy..." you muttered with a laugh, an edge in your voice, turning to your husband to tell him, "you've got to get to work, I'll take Harrison home"

"You sure?" The man asks warily, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be fine" you reply with a smirk, pushing your son gently towards the car, who grunts slightly and gets in.

By the time you had gotten back to the other woman, she was still standing there, waiting to talk to you patiently.

"I never got your name" you ask, stepping toward the woman as your husbands car takes off.

"Jessica Roberts, i work with Star-Ledger as a reporter" she tells you.

"Oh I'm sorry I don't do interviews..." you inform her, hoping to end the conversation and go.

"Well you may want to do this one..." she adds, "it's about what happened, people wanna know your story, and I can guarantee you a seven-figure book advance, right now"

"Please I don't need seven figures" you respond in a snarky voice, rolling you eyes, sternly adding, "and I certainly don't talk about the crash"

"The others are talking" she insists as you begin to turn away from her, "if you don't talk they're gonna tell their version of what happened!"

"Of course they are" you state sarcastically, reaching for the handle of the car only to have a hand reach your own.

"Just...take my number, if you change your mind, let me know?"

"I won't change my mind" you say sternly, glaring the woman down with a smile, "now fuck off"

🐇🎀🧸🩰

"I just don't get him" you sigh as you and your husband make their way into bed.

You pull the sheets over yourself as you watch Ben undress in front of you, getting into his pyjamas.

"I mean there's only so much we can do before they expel him" you continue in frustration.

"I imagine that's his goal" your husband responded softly with a sigh, pulling at his trousers as they slide off his legs.

"Jack never disliked school this much, Laura-Lee may not be the biggest fan but she liked her friends and sports and she always gets good grades" you muttered in response, "i don't get why he hates it so much..."

"Well maybe there's something going on" the man says, getting under the covers.

"How would we know, he barely talks to us" you muttered back, your head falling into your husbands shoulder with another sigh, "I just wish he would talk to us..."

"Maybe we can take him out?" The man suggests, stroking your hair lovingly, "go for dinner or something and try talk to him about it"

"I suppose that could work.." you responded with a chuckle, "though not dinner...at least not somewhere fancy, I'm sure Harry would rather kill himself than sit in a fancy restaurant with us and talk about his feelings"

"You're probably right" he laughs back, flicking off the light and shuffling further under the sheets, "hey, don't stress ok..."

"I know" you sigh in response, "I just- if there's something wrong I want to know...I want to be able to help"

"We'll sort it out" Ben responds, stroking your hair softly, adding with a small laugh, "he's an angsty teen I'm sure it's something silly"

"Right" you respond with a humourless laugh, curling under the sheets into your husband's side.

The two of you falling asleep in each others arms, you using the beating of your husbands chest to keep yourself calm from the impending anxiety of your sons troubles.