#so they probably will survive this I don't know

[hylianengineer]

I fell down a research rabbit hole about this - I got the 970s, and I'm in North America. I realized I had no idea what was happening here then, other than that there were Indigenous peoples with super variable ways of life.

More specifically for my geographic area, that would land me in the Mississippian culture. That's the same cultural group that included Cahokia, although not for another 30 years after my assigned time period. But I might live long enough to see it which would be really cool!

Other things Wikipedia informs me I might encounter include: maize agriculture (yay! i love corn), massive trade networks spanning almost the entire continent (cool!), increasing social inequality (boo! probably not worse than today though), and stuff made out of copper (it's funny how colonialism hid that fact from public knowledge).

Oh, and BISON! This is way before settlers almost wiped them out and I'm very excited about the idea of bison roaming the plains. And also kind of scared. They're really big wild animals and I don't want them to step on me. I want to admire them from several hundred feet away, please.

My allergens are almost exclusively native to Eurasia and Africa so I don't have to deal with them! That's really nice. Not thrilled about being hundreds of years before the development of vaccines or antibiotics, but if I have to be in this time, I can think of way worse places to spend it.

I wanna know what the ecology of my hometown is up to before the introduction of Old World species. Also pottery. I'd like to learn more about pottery. Wikipedia informs me they were using shells as tempering material in this time and place, so that's fun.

The decade you’re given is the decade to which you’re transported. Your geographic location doesn’t change; only the time period changes. “Equivalent QOL” means a qualify of life that approximates the life you have now and anticipate being able to have in the future.

[lizziesangel]

AN ANGSTY ASS REQUEST, I wanna cry and I know you are gonna do amazing. Love your writing. Kind of backstory: So.....Reader is the love of Rafe’s life and the only person who has shown him kindness and given him affection. They are kidnapped for some reason, perhaps kept on a boat, and she falls overboard. Rafe escapes. A BODY (not hers, but can’t be certain) gets washed up at some point and she is determined to be dead. So just kind of as back story....you don't need to write that part if you don't want to <3 So present/and well....the request really: Funeral is held and everything. He is walking around for about 2 months, mourning her, being an ABSOLUTE WRECK. He has nightmares constantly about her and when he’s awake, she haunts him still. He is drinking all the time because he can’t cope. UNKNOWN……she survived but was still held captive. She manages to escape and breaks into his house. HE THINKS HE IS OUT OF HIS MIND, DRUNK but it’s such a teary felt reunion when he realizes that she’s real. Maybe he gives her a bath (cus lets be real) and takes care of her (and again, let's be real, she is probably really weak) and is just shaking with relief, happiness and is so soft with her :(

wow, this is such an amazing request, i absolutely love this!!

the salty air was sharp and cold, biting against your skin as the boat rocked beneath your feet. it wasn’t the gentle sway of a calm ocean—it was erratic, violent, as if the sea itself mirrored the chaos that had unfolded in the past few hours.

rafe’s face was bloodied, his lip split and bruises already blooming along his jaw. his wrists were bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his skin as he struggled against them. he was glaring at the men surrounding him, his usual cocky bravado barely masking the sheer terror in his eyes.

“look,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous, though it cracked with desperation, “you’ve got me. i’ll get you your money. just let her go. she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

one of the men, a grizzled figure with a jagged scar running down his cheek, barked out a laugh. “you don’t get it, do you? you think you can screw us over and just walk away? nah.

“you’re gonna feel what it’s like to lose everything.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine. you’d known rafe’s life wasn’t clean—he carried the weight of bad decisions and even worse company—but you never thought it would come to this. the fear in his eyes, barely veiled beneath his fury, was enough to make your heart clench.

“please,” you interjected, your voice trembling as you stepped closer. “please, just let us go. we won’t—”

the sharp crack of a slap silenced you, the force of it sending you stumbling back. rafe surged forward, his shout of rage muffled by the gag they shoved into his mouth.

“enough talking,” the scarred man said coldly. “you want to play the hero, cameron? let’s see how much you care about her.”

before you could react, multiple strong hands grabbed your arms. you thrashed against them, your heart pounding as you looked back at rafe. his eyes were wild, his muffled cries growing frantic as the men dragged you toward the edge of the boat.

“no!” you screamed, your voice raw as the dark water loomed closer. the waves were fierce, crashing against the sides of the vessel, the moonlight glinting off their surface like shards of broken glass.

“rafe!” you cried, your voice breaking.

he was struggling so hard now that blood began to seep from where the ropes cut into his wrists. his muffled shouts were desperate, pleading.

“throw her over,” the scarred man commanded.

“no! please—” you begged, but it was too late.

the cold hit you like a thousand needles, stealing the air from your lungs as you plunged into the frigid ocean. the world above became muffled, the boat a distant silhouette against the black sky as you were swallowed by the waves. you fought to stay afloat, the current pulling at you like unseen hands.

above, rafe was a man undone. he thrashed violently, his screams muffled and his face twisted in agony. “let me go! i’ll kill you! i’ll kill you!” the men barely paid him any mind as they turned the boat, leaving the spot where you disappeared into the water.

“you better hope she’s a good swimmer, cameron,” the scarred man sneered. “and you’d better figure out how to pay us back.”

the funeral rafe held was a quiet affair, not because you deserved anything less, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being a spectacle. the small, secluded chapel was filled with the scent of lilies and a suffocating weight of sorrow. he sat in the front row, shoulders hunched, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the pew.

he couldn’t look at the casket, though it was empty.

the minister’s words were hollow, background noise to the storm raging inside him. “a kind soul, taken too soon…” “beloved by all who knew her…” every word made his chest ache. rafe clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to break down in front of the small group of mourners.

afterward, when the empty coffin was lowered into the ground, he stood motionless, staring at the fresh mound of earth. a few people offered condolences, their words shallow and meaningless. he didn’t respond, barely even acknowledged them. what could they say? no words could bring you back.

once everyone left, rafe stayed behind. minutes turned into hours as he sat on the damp grass, staring at the grave as though he could will it to undo itself. he whispered apologies to the air, his voice breaking. “i should’ve done something. i should’ve stopped them. i’m so sorry, my baby.”

the days that followed bled together into a haze of grief and self-loathing.

rafe couldn’t stand being at home. every corner of the house reminded him of you. the couch where you’d curled up with a blanket and a book, the kitchen where you’d danced with him to music only the two of you could hear—it was all too much. he turned to the only thing that numbed the pain: alcohol.

whiskey became his constant companion, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart. he barely ate, barely slept. the nightmares wouldn’t let him. every time he closed his eyes, he saw you falling, the cold water dragging you under while he screamed your name. he’d wake up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, the echo of your voice fading into silence.

he stopped answering his phone. friends tried to check in on him, but he pushed them away. he couldn’t face their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of them telling him to “move on.”

how could he move on when the love of his life was gone?

the two-month mark came and went, and rafe was a shadow of the man he used to be. his once meticulously styled hair was unkempt, his clothes rumpled, his face hollow from lack of sleep and too many sleepless nights spent drowning in liquor.

he spent most of his days wandering aimlessly, haunted by memories of you. he would catch glimpses of you everywhere—in the stranger who had your laugh, in the perfume that smelled like yours. his heart would leap, only to crash when he realized it wasn’t you.

one evening, he found himself on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore. he sank into the sand, letting the cold wind whip against his face. he stared at the horizon, the sun dipping below the water in a blaze of gold and crimson.

“i don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered to the empty expanse of ocean. his voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief crushing him.

for rafe, the world had stopped the moment you disappeared. time dragged on, but he remained frozen, lost in a limbo of regret and longing. he didn’t know if he could survive without you.

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

his nightmares were relentless. every second he closed his eyes, he was back on that boat, watching helplessly as you were thrown overboard. the icy waves swallowed you, your desperate cries for help echoing in his ears. he’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he reached out for you in the darkness—only to find cold sheets and empty space.

you weren’t there, and the realization gutted him every time.

the only way he knew how to cope was to drown himself in alcohol. bottles littered the floor of his house, their contents his only escape from the crushing weight of his grief. the whiskey blurred the edges of his pain, but it never truly numbed it. instead, it left him hollow, stumbling through a life that felt meaningless without you.

the storm outside was fierce, rain pelting against the windows and wind howling like a wounded animal. rafe sat slumped on the couch, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. he stared blankly at the television, though he wasn’t watching it. the sound was muted, the images flickering across the screen as if mocking his apathy.

the sharp sound of glass shattering upstairs jolted him from his stupor. for a moment, he froze, his foggy mind struggling to process it. he shook his head, muttering to himself, “you’re losing it, rafe.”

but then he heard it again���a faint creak of floorboards. His heart began to race, adrenaline cutting through the haze of alcohol. grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon, he stumbled toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

he pushed open the bedroom door, his breath hitching at what he saw.

you were there.

at first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind. you stood by the window, your body bruised, your clothes torn and soaked from the rain. your hair was a tangled mess, your face pale and gaunt, but it was you.

“rafe…” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

“n... no,” he muttered, shaking his head. his grip on the lamp tightened. “you’re not real. you’re not—”

“i am,” you interrupted, taking a shaky step toward him. “i got away. i—i’m here.”

the lamp fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. when your knees buckled, he lunged forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.

the moment your weight fell into his arms, he knew. you were real.

a sob broke from his throat as he held you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides as if afraid you’d disappear again. “you’re alive,” he choked out, his voice raw. “oh, my God, you’re alive.”

“i am,” you murmured weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. “i am.”

rafe carried you to the bathroom, his arms trembling with relief and adrenaline. he set you down on the edge of the tub, his hands shaking as he turned on the water, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“i... i need to—you need to get cleaned up,” he said, his voice unsteady. he avoided your eyes, his movements jerky and unsure. “you’re freezing. God, you’re so cold.”

you didn’t protest, too weak and tired to do much more than nod. he helped you out of your soaked clothes, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness.

once the tub was filled, he eased you into the warm water, his heart breaking at the way you winced. he knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed away the grime and salt from your skin. his hands trembled as they ran through your hair, untangling the knots with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

“i thought i lost you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought you were gone forever.”

“i almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your damp hair. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not letting you go again. i promise.”

after the bath, rafe wrapped you in the softest towel he could find and carried you to his bed. he brought you water, food, anything you might need, though you barely managed a few bites. he sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

that night, for the first time in months, he didn’t have nightmares. Instead, he fell asleep with you in his arms, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound he needed to finally find peace.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey

[txrully]

Hi Hi !!! I really love your fics

Can I request a gn reader who loves to manhandle the BL boys (Kinda like aggressive affection).

Thank you, and have a good day :D

CANT ESCAPE MY AFFECTION!

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary bluelock boys with an s/o who loves aggressive affection

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning lowercase intended , gn reader

·˚ ༘ ꒱ a/n idk how - but im pretty sure this flopped :sob: so sorry nonnie :( <3

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

isagi is kind of taken aback at first, because he’s more used to subtle affection (kinda), but when you pull him into a bear hug and start giving him smothering kisses, he’s so down.

he’s always flustered, trying to return the affection but not quite knowing how to keep up with your energy. when you go in for a kiss, he literally freezes, and you have to drag him in.

"yoichi, c'mere, i don't bite! >:/ "

"w-wait, can’t you, uh, just take it slow- 🥲"

"nope, i'm coming for you whether you like it or not!"

"i... okay? 😅"

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira lives for it. he’s all about that playful, chaotic love. he’ll give you the most dramatic responses and egg you on.

if you get overly affectionate, he’ll tease you by trying to run away and play “catch me if you can,” but then he’ll let you tackle him because he loves the aggressive attention. it’s like his personal sport.

"bachira, i'm not letting you go today!"

"haha, i can totally outrun you! try me!"

"watch me catch you!"

"ah, you did it! but only because i let you."

"you're so annoying, i’m kissing you anyway."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

to put it simply... rin’s not used to this level of affection ( at all ), but once he realizes you’re serious about it, he melts 🫠. he’ll let you drag him into all the kisses, but he might act like he’s annoyed at first.

he’ll do that thing where he crosses his arms and smirks while you’re all over him, but secretly, he’s a little soft on the inside. once you start kissing his neck or leaning on him aggressively, he’s completely done for.

"ew, stop that."

"i’m literally hugging you wdym. D:"

"do it again."

"i- fine by me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi is lwk confused at first ( :x face and all ), but when you pounce on him and wrap your arms around his neck, he just goes with the flow. he’s so relaxed and chill about the whole thing, and honestly? he really likes being adored.

he might just let you do all the aggressive cuddling, because it’s easier than fighting you. if you push for more, he’ll pretend to be a little annoyed, but in reality, he’s soaking up every moment.

"sei, you’re stuck with me today, deal with it."

"can i, like, not deal with it?"

"nope, too bad."

"…fine. i’ll just enjoy the cuddles."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo is the most dramatic when it comes to aggressive affection, but he’s secretly obsessed with it. if you hug him from behind and cover his face in kisses, he’s all “oh no, how will i survive?” but he loves it.

he might complain, but he’s always the first to pull you closer and make sure you’re comfortable. even if he’s acting all sophisticated, he’s a softie for your wild love.

"reo, i’m not done yet!"

"oh nooo, i’m going to be suffocated by love!"

"you’re so dramatic."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

chigiri is a bit flustered at first because he’s not sure how to handle all your aggressive affection, but he’ll warm up to it. he loves being loved—he just needs a moment to process.

if you’re all over him, he’ll take it in stride. he’ll laugh it off and act cool, but you can totally tell he’s enjoying it. maybe he gets a little shy when you shower him with kisses, but he definitely melts into your arms when you do.

"chigiri, you’re not getting away today!"

"what do you mean? i’m always getting away!"

"not today, my love."

"you’re a menace." ( lovingly )

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori is soft about it. like- he doesn’t even try to escape. you could probably lift him off the ground with a hug, and he’d just be like “okay, this is happening.”

he loves the attention, and he’s so gentle back, giving you the same level of affection in return. he might blush a bit, but he’s more than happy to let you shower him with attention.

"yo, hiori, you're stuck with me."

"uh-huh, i’m fine with that."

"you’re so cute when you get all shy."

"you’re the cute one here."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou absolutely thrives in this environment. he loves being manhandled, basically. if you aggressively kiss his neck or give him a bear hug, he’s probably gonna pretend to act like he’s annoyed, but secretly? he’s loving it.

he might challenge you, though. like, “you think you can take me on?” but deep down, he’s ready to be held, kissed, and adored however you want.

"i’m gonna keep kissing you until you can’t breathe."

"oh? bring it on, i’ll kiss you back harder."

"you’re such a brat."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae acts as cool as ever, but when you pull him into a tight hug and kiss him aggressively, he’s completely unbothered. he won’t show it, but you can tell he really likes it.

he might keep his face neutral, but his hands are definitely moving to pull you in closer, and he’ll even wrap his arm around you to make sure you stay put. he won’t say it, but he’s so happy to be adored by you.

"you’re clingy today .. more than usual."

"you bet i am. deal with it."

"oh well."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser is such a dramatic baby. he acts like he’s too important for aggressive affection, but the second you throw yourself at him, he’s all “yes, this is exactly what i wanted.”

he makes a big show of rolling his eyes, but you know he’s loving every second of it. he even tries to one-up you sometimes, like, “you think you’re the only one who can be aggressive with love?” and then he’ll pin you down in return.

"i’m gonna smother you with kisses, just you wait."

"pfft, i dare you."

"watch me."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness might seem shy about your affection at first, but he’s totally into it. he doesn’t push you away, but he might give you the sweetest smile when you throw yourself at him.

he’ll pull you in and let you cuddle him as much as you want, and when you kiss him all over his face, he’ll blush like crazy but still hold you tight.

"ness, stop looking so cute while i’m trying to kiss you."

"i can’t help it… :') "

"you’re gonna be the death of me."

© txrully

do not copy/translate/repost/plagiarize my works in any way.

ⁱᵈᵏ ʷʰʸʸʸʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵐ 🫠

[quimichi]

≡;- ꒰ ° Sick fuck... ꒱

TW: NSFW - MDNI, name calling, slight cnc, yeah thats it???

character: Nam-gyu x F!Reader

summary: You pressed 'x' now you'll face the consequences of your actions

word count: 4.724

a/n: look, for some reason, he was my fav, idk why, idk how, its how it is ok???? I can't take myself seriously lol. I rarely write smut, I'm probably HORRIBLE at it, but we need the content for him ok??

Nam-gyu dragged you into the female bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. You try to free yourself from his grasp, but there's no use. "Hey-! HEY-!! For fucks sake guards-! If you don't do shit, why are you even here-!" you keep yelling as he struggles to shove you into a stall.

He shoved you against the cold wall of the stall, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. Leaning in close, his black eyes flashed with anger and lust as he growled, "Listen up, you little cock-tease. Next time we vote, yeah? You'll press 'O", understood?" His other hand groped and squeezed your breast roughly through your shirt. "Mmm, but maybe this is what you wanted all along, huh? To get me all worked up and desperate for your tight little body?"

He crashed his lips against yours in a brutal, kiss, biting and sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to make it throb. "Strip," he commanded coldly, releasing your wrists only to start tearing your clothes off yourself. "Now! Before I rip them off and fuck you on this filthy floor." With one quick motion, you slap him across his face. "Fuck you-! I don't even fuckinh know you, so what do you want from me?! I pressed 'X', and?! We keep playing the fucking game anyway!" you shout at him. Nam-gyus eyes flashed with rage as you slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sting of your palm against his cheek made him see red. He grabbed your wrist in a vice-like grip, twisting your arm behind your back and shoving you face-first against the grimy bathroom wall. His body pressed firmly against yours, pinning you in place as he leaned down to growl menacingly in your ear.

"Listen here, you fucking slut," he snarled, his hot breath tickling your neck. "I know for a damn fact the longer we play, the more people wanna press fucking 'x'. And I wanna keep going, so after the next round, the next vote, you'll press 'o'. If you don't, I'll make sure I kill you, and not a fucking game." His rough hands immediately found their way to your tits, groping and kneading the soft flesh harshly as he grinded his hardening bulge against your ass.

"I'll fucking ruin you," Nam-gyu hissed venomously, giving your nipple a sharp twist through the thin lace of your bra. "Scream for help and see if anyone gives a shit. They all probably jerk off to ya. Now, are you going to be a good girl and do as you're told, or do I need to get rougher?" "No-!" you stutter out, "you got your point across-!" You're 90% sure you'll die in the games anyway, after seeing the first you knew you wouldn't survive. Better play along now, than suffer even further with whatever he has planned. If you're lucky, he just did all that to scare you off...at least you hoped so. Playing tough wasn't so easy....

Nam-gyus grip on your wrist loosened slightly as he sensed your submission. He kept you pinned against the wall, his hips still pressed firmly to yours as he leaned in close, his voice a low, threatening rumble.

"Damn right I got my point across, baby," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "As a reward, we're keeping you save next game, hm? How's that sound?" He slid a hand down to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly as he grinded his now fully erect cock against your backside. "Now, since you've been a bad girl, I think you deserve to be punished. Lucky you! You'll get both, a reward and a punishment. Aren't I nice?"

Nam-guys other hand slid under the hem of your pants, pulling them down. "Cute, did you know this was my favorite color on you, hm?" he teased, hot breath tickling your ear as he rubbed your clit through the fabric of your panties.

"Sick fuck..." you mumble, more to yourself than for him to actually hear it. Nam-gyu smirked cruelly as he heard your mumbled insult, clearly amused by your feeble attempt at defiance. "Yeah, I'm a sick fuck, but I'm YOUR sick fuck," he taunted, punctuating his words by shoving two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt.

"But you aren't a healthy minded bitch either, look at how wet you are." he chuckled darkly. He pumped his fingers in and out of you roughly, curling them to rub your walls with each thrust. You try to swallow down moans and gasps, but you can't. It feels too good and for some reason...you even enjoy it. He quickly turned you around, shoving your back against the wall. His thumb found your clit and rubbed the sensitive nub hard, making your legs tremble and your pussy clench around his digits.

"Listen to this desperate cunt sucking on my fingers like they're my cock," Nam-gyu laughed mockingly. "You can't get enough, can you? Don't worry, I'm going to give this pussy exactly what it needs."

Having fun never hurt anyone, right? After all, you're a sick fuck too...

[officeobject]

Wait I did NOT expect you to ACTUALLY reply ... anyways, I have a niche personality, so I'm probably the best person :) ... to write "okay" to and never reply to forever! I also don't know what you mean by publicly shamed, due to it being so specific, and I also have no concept of death nor suicide, for better or for worse, but like, I do know, that they're then friends by title, and not ACTUAL friends - and like, I can only offer generic advice or make my own plan, and what I would do, as someone who could never be in that same situation ever due to the alignment of my personality and the obscure irrelevance I often fall under when it's the bottom line for people, is to get more bitches. Actually, maybe I'd even get new bitch and make him fight the other ones and watch or something - like I once had a friend who said he'd fight some shithead from my life and like, yeah, that's platonically attractive wow, and like, yeah, if possible then hit-able - but I shouldn't encourage violence, which allegedly isn't the answer, and I do not condone violence, and like, you're probably a teenager, so like - well first of all, I don't expect you to take what I write too seriously - like I don't expect you to actually see me as a human being all of the time, but also, like, just do whatever the feck other teenagers do to be happy and survive or whatever - I don't know, if I think about it for too long, I will hate myself, and possibly get into my addiction - lots of things in my life are about me I guess, and if they aren't about me or what I like for TOO long - or if not enough attention, brain will get mad.

And like, I'll TELL YOU, that what I really wanna say is how sad that is and that help exists, and like, sure, I do mean that, but like, I can only not-personality myself into someone nice, or make it all about me and my rambles and crappy advice.

Like I do NOT get people who can just give advice, or say they're here for someone, and then this just IS, in their personality - like, I'M just with a concern for humanity and a fear of unintentionally killing someone, and THEY, are just here, FOLLOWING THEIR PERSONALITY, WHILE, being all smoothly nice, or awkwardly helpful?! Like I could NEVER!

So over all: I'm sorry to hear that, have you tried talking to someone about it?

[cassafrasscr]

I keep seeing people be like, "Ashton needs to stop acting like he's still a nobody with no power or agency. He's a level 15 Barbarian with a Titan shard and Luxon powers."

And like, yes. Ashton is EXTREMELY powerful. That's objectively true. And they're definitely not a nobody anymore either.

But here's the thing. Ashton’s spent their whole life until relatively recently with various boots on their neck. And the last time Ashton tried to step out of the role of a downtrodden gutter punk - to be a somebody, to be powerful, to be a hero - they got in way over their head. He fully bought into the same hubris that got his parents killed, literally blew himself up, and almost ruined all his friendships. Especially with abandonment being one of Ashton’s biggest issues, of course that would be a setback in his personal development.

Ashton leans so hard into being a nobody because it’s safer than being a somebody. If he’s not powerful or important, his mistakes won't have the same effect as they would otherwise. If you don't matter to anyone, you won’t be able to disappoint them.

Of course, that doesn't change the actual facts - Ashton IS powerful, and he matters a great deal, both to the Hells and to the fate of Exandria. I just think they're not in the right headspace or environment to really reckon with that in the way they need to. Especially since, for the most part, they never really asked for any of it. Ashton got their abilities (Titan and Luxon) because of circumstances outside of their control (his parents messing with powers they didn't understand, and Milo pouring a Potion of Possibility into his brain while he was injured and unconscious).

Plus, having power means having more of an ability to hurt people. We know from episode 40 that he worries about potentially turning on and attacking the Hells (or about one of the others turning, in which case he'd probably have to fight them to protect the rest of the group). They also worry about their body/powers being a ticking time bomb that could go off at any time. Not to mention, almost immediately having a panic attack upon finding out that they’re half Titan.

So, yeah. I'm not really surprised that Ashton would take one look at the idea that he's powerful and important and run the fuck away. Especially after all the fallout from Shardgate. Obviously, burying his head in the sand about it isn't going to help them learn to deal with it, and there are definite parallels with Ludinus in this. It's not a rational response to the situation, and the rest of Bell’s Hells are in a similar boat - especially since they've all spent most of the campaign feeling overwhelmed and utterly inadequate for the monumental task ahead of them.

Hopefully, they all survive this and can really start to unpack the nature of their relationship to power. Preferably with the Exandrian equivalent of a therapist, lol. 😅

[nosyp]

you know in ss1, the player go in pair and play marble again each other in the 4th game? Let put yuu and the twst boy in that situation. Please

First years first :P I'll post the rest later. (Remind me if i don't)

Ace Trappola

Ace is definitely nervous but tries to hide it with his usual cocky attitude, as he usually does. He’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and even in a situation as dire as this, he’d try to keep his confidence up. He might joke around to deflect his fear, acting like he has the situation under control. But deep down, Ace knows how serious this is, and it bothers him that he could lose you.

What Happens: As the game progresses, Ace would likely try to play it smart, using his quick thinking and humor to distract you or throw you off. But as things get heated and you begin to get closer to winning, his facade cracks. If you end up winning, Ace would be shocked and frustrated, but his competitive nature would kick in and he'd actually start trying a bit, but not enough to win. If he somehow wins, he’d probably try to act cool, but you'd sense his relief. Either way, he wouldn’t want to be responsible for your loss, so he’d try to find a way to ensure your survival if he could.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is fiercely loyal and would be devastated by the idea of playing against you. He’s not the type to be manipulative, and the very thought of playing this deadly game against you, someone he cares about deeply, would tear him up inside. He’s not great at hiding his emotions, and that would show through in his reactions during the game.

What Happens: Deuce would probably try to talk his way out of the situation, looking for loopholes in the rules, trying to convince you that there must be a way to survive without playing. If it’s inevitable, he’d give it his best shot, but you can tell he’s uncomfortable. If you win, Deuce might break down emotionally, poor boy would be overwhelmed by the guilt. If he wins, he would feel terrible, likely making an emotional apology and begging you to stay alive as you lay on the ground, blood all over both of you.

Jack Howl

Jack is a bit of a wildcard in this scenario. He’s strong, but his loyalty to you would outweigh his desire to win the game. The thought of betraying you in any way would be inconceivable, and even if he tried to play the game, it would be with the intention of protecting you.

What happens: Jack might try to go along with the game, but he would hold back, not fully engaging in the competitiveness. He’d be subtly looking for ways to sabotage his own chances of winning to ensure you stay alive. If you won, he’d try to hide his relief but would be secretly grateful. If he lost, Jack would never forgive himself, feeling utterly defeated. His protective nature would kick in, and he’d probably do whatever he could to help you survive.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek is the type to be headstrong and always follow orders, and that would apply here as well. He’s fiercely loyal to his friends, especially to Malleus, but when it comes to you, he’s equally protective. Sebek would be frustrated and angry at the unfairness of the game, but he’d be determined to win in order to protect you and make sure you don’t die.

What Happens: Sebek would probably get frustrated with the rules, insisting that there must be a better way to solve this. He wouldn’t want to hurt you, but his competitive nature would push him to do whatever it takes to win. If he loses, he’d be livid and full of regret, blaming himself for letting things get that far. If you win, Sebek would be relieved but very likely to make a big deal about it, demanding that you owe him for saving you.

Epel Felmier

Epel would be upset at the thought of playing a deadly game like this, especially if it means going against you. He’s proud of his strength, but the emotional strain of playing against someone he cares about would weigh heavily on him. He’d try to keep up a strong exterior, but it would be clear that this game is affecting him.

What Happens: Epel would probably try to make light of the situation, joking around to hide his nervousness. However, as the game progresses, his fear and frustration would start to show. If you win, he’d be relieved but probably wouldn’t say much about it, trying to hide his emotions. If he lost, Epel would be hard on himself, feeling like he let you down, even though it wasn’t his fault. He’d likely try to comfort you if you were upset, even though he’d be struggling with his own emotions.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho is paired with you for the marble game. The tension is palpable as the life-or-death stakes hang in the air. Despite being a robot, Ortho is deeply attached to you, making the game particularly difficult for him. His logical mind tries to process the game, but his emotions for you complicate things.

What happens: Ortho starts off trying to stay calm and rational, trying to play the game without hurting you, using his analytical skills to predict outcomes. As the game progresses, Ortho struggles with the idea of possibly having to hurt you to win. His emotions begin to show as he tries to find a way out, offering to lose on purpose or come up with a compromise. If he wins, Ortho feels a mixture of relief and guilt, unsure if he made the right choices during the game. If he loses, Ortho becomes upset with himself, feeling like he failed you, but immediately focuses on making sure you're safe, trying to reassure you despite the storm going on inside him.

[ranticore]

What are some mythological monsters from Siren? Are any of them actually real? 👀 (some visual references appreciated if you're able...)

i was going to save this to draw something but don't think i'll have the time to work on it

some mythological monsters (really limited list tbh you can imagine that almost every community has their own take)

false phocid/doppelganger/mirror self/etc - this creature can be glimpsed at a distance and appears very similar to you, baby phocid, but you must never swim out to greet them. the mirror self will only swim further and further away, tempting you to follow, until it traps you in unfamiliar territory or even an evil maze, a place that resembles no place you've ever been before. moral of the story: don't trust strangers/teaching basic fear of the unknown

Tel!am - this is more of a godlike being than most mythological monsters, and can be found in the stories of people from the southern hemisphere. Tel!am is the seafloor itself, which is why deadly aerated water, which seeps up from cracks in the seafloor, is known as Tel!am's Blood/Breath/etc. Tel!am is asleep most of the time but wakes during rare high tide events, during which they rage against the moons and smash up any land/infrastructure/people that happen to get in their way. moral of the story: if there's a high tide forecast you need to get the fuck out of there

Odr - kind of an inverse of Tel!am, supposedly Odr was a giant selkie from the northern hemisphere who took on various heroic challenges to prove their might. They shaped much of the ice-caps by fighting monsters and enemies there (every stroke of their fighting spear would carve a new mountain or whatever, that kind of tale) before growing so sleepy that they curled up and fell into a slumber at a point in the icecaps now known as Odr's Sleep, became buried in snow, and is now only exposed during low tide events. the world as we know it will probably end if the tide gets low enough to reveal Odr entirely, causing them to wake. moral of the story: if there's a low tide forecast you need to get the fuck out of there

Kin/Ruler of the High Tide/Ishmael - in the western continent it is believed that there is a common ancestor for all phocids who arose from this region and that's how we got phocids, who were born when this ancestor raised a high tide. which is straightforward enough. but as people spread further and further from the western continent and settled more remote places, the legend grew legs and kind of morphed into 101 different cautionary tales about a morally-neutral trickster character who, again, might end the world if he raises another high tide, or might birth a new generation of sirenians. moral of the story: you guys should be writing your history down better probably

The Endless Kattakati - this one comes from zetas in the eastern continent. In the past it was common for zeta packs of up to twenty individuals to all be in one kattakati (i.e all of them were considered to be One Single Entity, like a culturally eusocial rather than biologically). there are surviving stories of a potential future, like a different fork in the path of history, that resulted in every single zeta being in ONE kattakati. a single person with tens of thousands of bodies. whether or not this idea is a comfort to them varies of course; the more traditionally-minded might think it sounds very peaceful, while those more integrated with outside cultures and people might see it as a frightening tale of assimilation and loss of individuality. some say that it could happen in the future, too, if only they could sum up the will to try. moral of the story: peace and community are within reach if only we set aside our differences more/oh god oh no oh fuck

longwing visors in general - with each one being tied to a specific character, some of them do happen to be monstrous in nature. flying monsters are a common theme - usually based on recreations of the large, winged metal caskets in which many visors were first unearthed. these creatures were said to plague the first generations of longwings, ruling the skies and attacking anything around them, until mysteriously they all died, transferring their powers of long-distance communication and foresight into the visors inside their bodies. moral of the story: sorry you got stuck with a visor with monstrous baggage i guess you're kind of a monster now too

the Night-time Professor - if you join the university at the Spire as a new student you might hear stories of a strange apparition that flies through the hallways and lecture rooms at night. that's actually a ghost of a scholar who got sick and died while working on his thesis, but that's no fucking excuse for not turning your work in on time so he's STILL out there working on it and won't be allowed to pass on until he's finished. moral of the story: we don't accept sick notes and you're not getting that deadline extension

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I haven't read any cozy fantasy, to be fair, but because these posts are mostly talking about the fundamentals of good writing while the fundamentals of cozy fantasy are taking more of a backseat, I feel comfortable throwing in my pov. I agree with all of the above, but I think we should probably add on discussion of why tension works even when stakes are low.

Given all of the GBBO mentions, let's liken writing a story to baking. So what differentiates a cake from bread from a biscuit from [insert thing here]? Mostly ratios. Cakes and breads and biscuits are all made with the same fundamental ingredients, for the most part, but the ratios of each differ greatly between them, as do some of the techniques used. A more traditional fantasy is mostly plot-driven. That's one ingredient. Of course, you still need character and setting and all the rest, but because a traditional fantasy tends to use a big window into its world, you'll need lots of plot and worldbuilding in the mix. There is The Quest or The Prophecy or The Villain's Downfall or The Hero's Redemption or whatever, and these kinds of story tropes require a lot of moving parts to get to the end. Character is still important in a plot-driven book because it will enrich whatever that plot is, but the big window you're opening will swallow up the characters if you're not careful to get the other ratios just right.

But a cozy fantasy isn't like that. The window is much smaller, and so the ratio of ingredients necessarily has to change. Tension vs stakes is a great way to think about that ingredient mix, but when you're shifting your main base, you also have to shift the ratios of the other ingredients or it's going to turn out wonky. With a smaller window generally comes a smaller (though no less important) story. We don't see as much of the world in a cozy setting, so focusing too much on worldbuilding might crowd out the other elements in the story and overpower them. What tends to fit well in a smaller window is character. But if you want to create tension instead of stakes--and it is incredibly important to know the difference between the two, as the above post illustrates well--you can't rely on plot so much. Tension is all about character.

The reason tension works in GBBO is not just because the characters care about the outcome, it's that we bond with them and care about it also. We want it to go well for them. (Or at least, go well for our favourites lol.) So with bland, uninspiring, nothing characters, even introducing tension isn't going to work well if readers have no reason to root for your characters, and wanting to see good in the world just won't cut it. In the case of the fantasy coffee shop idea, why do we care that this coffee shop survives? What makes the character care? What is the thing (or things) that makes the character get out of bed every day to run this shop? It doesn't have to be a big reason, either. It's not like it has to be to honour the memory of their dead mother whose dying wish was to own a shop like this, it needn't be dramatic. But it does have to feel like a real reason this person would be so motivated.

A different cozy genre that does this well is cozy mysteries, and those are all about characters. We always know there's going to be a murder (or at least the appearance of one). So that part of the plot is taken care of. What the author of a cozy mystery must do, then--besides solving the mystery--is tell us why that murder matters. The only question an author needs to answer before writing a cozy mystery after they've answered whodunit is why they did it. And you can only do that through the people that are still alive. The worldbuilding may contribute to it, but the murder doesn't matter except as it relates to the ones who are left in the aftermath.

Something I've noticed in recent years is that some authors are starting to approach independent stories like they do fanfic. To some extent, that's fine because good writing is good writing is good writing. One of the biggest differences between independent stories and fanfiction, however, is that fanfiction doesn't need a reason to exist. You can write that cute scene with no stakes and no tension and people will read it because it's like a deleted scene from the original, and it has all of the canon to support it. The existing canon is the primary reason fanfiction exists.

Independent stories are not like that. They must have a reason to exist outside of "this is cute and I like it." We readers don't have access to the world in your head in any other way than through the published material, and it's an author's responsibility when writing independent stories to give us that access. You have to show us why we should care, and if you're spending too much time worldbuilding and plotting and dialoguing and not enough time making us care about the people in the story, we're not going to be any wiser at the end, and tension vs stakes vs anything else isn't going to matter.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[thelonelyshore-if]

Assuming we’re not romancing the RO how good of a wingman would each RO be?

This is such a fun ask; answers under the cut c:

Beck: I don't actually think they'd be great at it tbh. They can be pretty charming and would totally hype you up, but they're also distractable and the second the other person even mildly annoys them they'd be like 'red flag, you're actually not good enough for my friend ://'

Croft: the mental image of this made me legitimately laugh. Bad. Croft would be a VERY BAD wingman. They not only completely lack charisma but they'd think the entire thing was pointless and stupid. They'd insult the other person to their face and then wander back over to you like 'they weren't interested. can we please leave.'

Jay: would be a great wingman tbh. They love their friends so they wouldn't hesitate to talk you up to the other person. They're normal and charming/friendly enough to not scare them off with bad vibes. They want the best for you. Best possible wingman of the group.

Perri: has pretty bad social anxiety so the idea of talking to a random stranger--even if it's to help you out--would bring them close to tears. If they were playing wingman and the other person was someone they know, it would only be... slightly better. They Do Not Like Talking To People.

Ravi: would be awful at it but oh my god can you imagine. He'd actually try, unlike Croft, but he'd be so offputting and strange about it. Probably he'd immediately start telling the other person about the time you almost drowned, and then be like 'they have an incredible proclivity for survival :)' and then would walk away feeling proud of himself.

Yasmin: in theory would be the next best after Jay...but she's terribly direct. She doesn't have much interest in subtly so instead of quietly hyping you up and being chill about it she'd straight up just be like, 'my friend is interested in you; they're gorgeous and cool. go talk to them.' She most likely thinks she's better at it than she actually is.

[eyes-of-the-watcher]

i feel like if john were to get a body he'd experience dysmorphia... probably even some sort of pain and derealization

assumedly, with the way that canon is going, if john *were* to get a body it would be kayne's doing. i feel like he'd most definitely find a way to fuck john over in someway, give him some form of chronic pain or illness. i don't suppose "fuck over" is the right word, more like... play a sick joke. i don't feel like the literal embodiment of chaos would do much better, anyway. kind of like with the theory that arthur never gets his eyes back, or never gets full feeling/control back of his left leg and arm.

i feel the dysmorphia would come along with him knowing he could never become his full form again. he's stuck in a *human body* now, afterall. he's not some mass of tentacles or otherwise: he's human. it'd probably be less so because of his time sharing a body with arthur, but at least then he had found a way to take back that old part of himself. he found a way to project, to embody what he was as the king once more. and it is *mildly* implied that john, while a part of arthur, still held *some* power from when he was part of the king—or at least supernatural abilities—when he wasn't projecting from arthur. hell, it's even implied that part of the reason arthur survived through everything was *because* of these abilities. as a human, which is what he has said he wants to be, he would be without it.

and as far as the depersonalization goes... i feel like it was something he experienced even while he was with arthur. sure, it probably became less of an issue overtime. he probably got used to looking at reflections and seeing arthur rather than what he looked like as the king. but i feel like it'd be even worse in his own body, especially if he'd gotten used to seeing arthur everytime he saw his reflection. hell, seeing arthur as a seperate being from himself is probably jarring. seeing his reflection—seeing *human john's* reflection—would probably fuck him up. at least the first few times around.

not related to any of this i feel like he'd also have separation anxiety. as much as they bicker, there's a lot of times (especially in the later seasons) where we see john and arthur being tender with one-another. and after arthur dying on john (the one time he really died—from the witch), i feel like it'd terrify john to not know if arthur was still... alive. i also think this is why john is so concerned about arthur has he is right now. he doesn't want to lose him again.

[ihatechosingnames]

A few days ago, while I was walking back home from work, I started daydreaming and at one point I had a potential fanfic in the Batman fandom.

It all started with the death of the Joker by the hands of a very angry and tired and devastated civilian.

I went through a minimal backstory for this man, a retired army/navy man, who tragically lost his entire family (wife, daughter, son in law and two grandchildren) to the Joker in some sort of stupid game with the Bat (like you have tot minutes to choose who to save but the Joker is cheating and they all die) and since he already lost everything, why not making sure his family's killer tots in hell.

And I argued against myself about why it should be a civilian, a nameless one, to do the deed.

Batman cannot kill the Joker, because by doing it he stops being Batman. In UTRH he says "if I start, I will never stop" and it's kind of a disservice to the human and caring side of Bruce (which we are seeing less and less through the years) who wanted to help and care and believed about the sacrality of life (every life is precious). That man will break if he kills someone even by accident. In UTRH he sounds more like someone who is one murder away from becoming the worst serial killer in US. What the fuck. And instead of turning away from a life where the choice to kill or not is dangling in front of his life every single time, he keeps dressing up as a bat because through violence they can resolve their inner issues.

Nightwing is another one that cannot kill the Joker. First, he already did that, it's time for another to take his turn. Secondly, he is so much like Bruce but without being all dark that for him it will be twice as hard to accept that he did something like that. Yes, when he killed the Joker he was angry, he wasn't pulling his punches and the Joker kept goading him with Jason's and Tim's (supposed) death by his hands. He was devastated by Jason's death (in a more visible way than Bruce's) and the mix with grief, hate, regret and despair, knowing that another Robin died by Joker's hands again, made him snap. That will probably make him the most sympathetic to the story of the civilian who shot the Joker. Because once upon a time, for a brief moment, he felt the same fury and grief and hate against the Joker.

Jason, in my opinion, shouldn't be the one to kill the Joker. He was killed by the Joker, it's not on him to find justice or to enact revenge on him. And it also seems that half of the time, when he isn't thinking about being the Better Batman that Gotham needs, he is probably thinking that he is back from death only to get revenge on the Joker. If he kills him and survives good, if he kills him and he dies, I don't see Jason fighting to stay alive. His first plan in UTRH was prepped that or only two would walk out or none of them. It wasn't just "kill the Joker yourself or let me kill him" plus "if you want to save the Joker you have to kill me", Jason had prepared plenty of explosives to go all out. That was a test for Bruce, but also a moment of truth for Jason (please choose me) and Jason, for all his plans to be the Better Batman, to seize the criminal empire, he was more than ready to explode alongside the Joker and Batman if it was required. If this behaviour isn't slightly suicidal, I don't know. That's why I think that seeing the Joker dead by the hands of someone who did it to take revenge for his family, it's going to give a breakdown to Jason. And the brain, to metabolize that right now the only reason Jason is alive, his revenge, is dead (and it wasn't even Bruce), needs time to think so he checks out. He needs to find some other reason to explain why Jason is back from death and is still alive. Could it be able to send Jason in a dissociative state where he is still functional but also "no one is here"? I don't have a degree in psychology, but definitely will study more on the matter. It's very likely that some sort of revaluation for the brain will translate in a breakdown with lashing out.

And back to the mystery civilian I was debating around how he will be able to kill the Joker:

1. he waits until the Joker escapes again and just shoots him and then he goes to the police to get a death by cop kind of suicide.

2. it's a more collective effort since he is not the only one who lost someone to the Joker and so we have a group of civilians that all helped the mystery man to do the deed, by either helping the Joker escapes or helping the guy infiltrate Arkham and shoot the Joker in his own cell. And then he shoots himself.

Either way I don't see him alive, he already lost everything important, he lived his life and he did his job. Now, the only thing missing is going back to his family.

But what I actually wanted to focus on the fanfic, because this is just the context, is the argument that will follow between the vigilantes. How their own personal beliefs and experiences should actually weight in this matter. Who they are to judge someone. And there will be some judging.

Because Bruce will never believe that just some civilian wanted to shoot the Joker. He is so paranoid that he will not believe that it was simple for revenge. There must be a plan or something like that.

Meanwhile Jason wants to go and scream somewhere, far away from Bruce and the stupid case. And it's clear that Bruce is thinking that Jason is behind this because, in his mind, no one wants the Joker dead like Jason (there is actually a line).

[lockpickingliar]

We ran out of tags so I guess we gotta do this in the body of the post. Sorry.

Not sure who's at the helm right now muse-wise, but it's nice to see the acknowledgment. It's probably Cookie or Gemini or another who's experienced Chapter 4. Kichi? Moonpie? Joker? Maybe it's several of us in a lump. We do that sometimes.

But anyway. It's like...

Yeah, Gokuhara and Iruma were important to us.

Then imagine our turmoil when we figured out that Iruma was planning to kill us.

It makes sense. She could lie about whatever she wanted with the program without us around. Aside from the fact we were carrying the trials when it came to lies, we were the only one who knew anything remotely useful about the program because we helped he set things up and had an opportunity to snoop beforehand. Without us to contradict her, she could say whatever she wanted and she'd get away with it.

Everyone would die, so it had to be done.

But then imagine our NEW turmoil realizing we couldn't just get the job done ourselves.

If we wanted to avoid the program altogether, then everyone would think it suspicious of us. They all had a hate-boner for us for whatever reason, so any complaints from us would be regarded with suspicion at best and malice at worst.

If we tried to kill Iruma ourselves, we'd die because of the way she programmed our avatar. Iruma's not stupid, she knew who she was dealing with and wanted to room for us to be able to fight back at all.

So we had to get someone else to do it.

And the only person who left who listened to us at that point was Gokuhara.

Maybe we should have made our own post. An X on Y Essay or something, we don't know. Not a lot of people take kindly to the first person speech on analysis posts we've seen.

But we had to say it.

It hurt.

It hurt it hurt it hurt.

In one fell swoop we were forced to lose both of our only remaining companions. We would've been content with the 50/50 split and going down with the ship. That would have been fair, we think.

But that's not what happened.

Even then, nothing seems to go out way and we had to survive and reckon with what we'd done.

You all know the rest of the story. How much of a wreck we were after the trial. Our downward spiral after that. Our doubling down.

We were alone. And we always would be.

honestly everyone in v3 who survived up until chapter 5 is such a clown for believing kokichi was the mastermind

[simpjackie]

Hiii, do you have any headcanons of dating shauna in the wilderness or dating shauna if the plane crash never happened and reader met shauna at college?? thank youuuu

Thank you for the ask anon! I hope you enjoy it! Sorry for some mistakes English isn't my first language :D

Warning: the usual stuff that happend in the yellowjackets wilderness. Dating Shauna in the wilderness:

♡Before the plane crash, you and Shauna weren't exactly friends, playmates at best, but you were brought together by shared classes and soccer practices. You only know her as Jackie's everlasting shadow or some lost puppy always following her. However, after the crash, Shauna's nature shines. She's resourceful, always coming up with small solutions to make life a little easier.

♡It started with practical things: working together to gather firewood and sharing small tasks around the cabin. Over time, it evolved into something deeper, a mutual understanding that didn't require words.

♡The turning point in your relationship came one night when you were sitting alone by the fire; she came to you, her face pale, her hands trembling. She admitted that she thought she might be pregnant, and you were surprised (surprisingly). The reality of it, paired with the circumstances of the winter coming, was just so overwhelming. But you promised her and yourself that she wouldn't go through it alone. From that moment, you're at her side – giving her some of your portions, helping her skin animals or shielding her from unnecessary stress when the others argue over food.

♡Your relationship unfolded like a secret meant only for the two of you. She became your refuge, and you became hers. You started noticing all the small things she did for you, like saving a piece of meat or patching up a tear in your university jacket when you weren't paying attention.

♡When Jackie died, it was a turning point for both of you. Shaunas withdraws, haunted by guilt and the loss of her best friend. While the others start whispering behind her back about her talking with the corpse, you are trying to help her, like sometimes coming with her to the shed, sitting in the cold beside her, listening as she talks about Jackie, about the good, bad and complicated stuff. She even told you why she slept with Jeff. To feel seen, not to be just Jackie's shadow.

♡After you burned the body (and ehm other stuff :d), Shauna comes to you a few days later, handing you Jackie's gold necklace with trembling hands. "I don't know why I kept this," she admits. You don't push her for answers; instead, you hold her close to your chest.

♡Nights with Shauna become sacred. She leans into you, her voice soft as she talks about memories of home—her mom's house, her favorite books, the sound of thunder outside her bedroom window. It is her way of holding onto pieces of herself, and you listen like each word is a gift.

♡You became her safe space. The person who sees her not as the strong one or the girl who keeps it together but as someone who needs care and love just as much as anyone else. And despite everything going on, you hold onto the hope that one day, you'll make it out of the wilderness together.

♡In the wilderness, love wasn't grand gestures or declarations. It was survival, shared silences, and the unspoken promise that you'd do whatever it took to protect each other. With Shauna, it felt like enough.

♡I really think although she seems like the tough guy, whenever she's around you, she becomes a huge softie (I mean at least when its only the two of you). She cannot resist you in anything. If you ask for it, she will try her hardest to obtain it for you.

♡She is super duper protective of you and will literally fight anyone at the cabin if they even look at you badly :D.

♡Shauna probably always asks for your opinion when it comes to her ration, whether the shirt looks good on her or whether it would be weird if she wore some of Jackie's clothes… She keeps asking you so she can hear you praising her.

♡You even once talked about names for the babies. It was late at night, and everyone around you was sound asleep. But to your delight, the next day, Shauna did as it never happened because she despises the unborn child in some way.

♡You fought about it that day. Shauna told you that she would be sleeping with Tai in the attic, but you gave her your best puppy eyes and said, "But I can only fall asleep next to you." Shauna's eyes immediately softened. You even heard Van in the background yelling, "Whipped!"

♡Even when she's not big on PDA and will smack you lightly if you try to do something before the girls, coach and Travis, but in the middle of the night, she loves giving your forehead kisses even when she denies it.

Dating Shauna at the college:

♡You first met in an early morning history lecture in your second year. Shauna always sat at the same spot near the back corner, tucked away like she didn't want to be noticed, her head buried in her laptop as she took notes from the lecture. You see her occasionally glancing up, her brows furrowing as she dissected the professor's lectures. Shauna never raised her hand or participated if she wasn't called on, but when she spoke, oh god, you develop a crush just from that; her insights were sharp and thoughtful, and she was really smart.

♡The two of you officially crossed paths when the professor paired you for a final project. Shauna was organized and a little bit of a perfectionist, the kind of partner everyone wanted but never appreciated. You and Shauna spent hours and hours together, changing only the surroundings of the library or the study room. You were surprised by her dry sense of humour and her little habit of doodling in the corners of her paper when she thought you weren't looking.

♡It didn't actually take long for these study sessions to turn into something more casual. One rainy evening, as you both worked late on the project, you asked Shauna if she wanted to grab dinner with you, and to your surprise, when she agreed, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Over the greasy burgers and strawberry milkshakes, you found yourselves talking about everything: her childhood, her love for writing and how she still played soccer for the college soccer team (more to it later). She even told you she hated soccer in high school and that she joined just because of her best friend, Jackie.  And you weren't eating up all of this information.

♡Shauna was hesitant to open up at first, but you didn't care or mind, finding her small quirks endearing. For example, she had these small habits of twisting her necklace when she was nervous and always carried a book in her bag, "just in case." You started to notice weeks into your project that she started bringing you coffee when you looked tired, or you found her little sticky notes in your notebook with words of encouragement.

♡Shauna fell first for you, thought she would never admit it. You caught her stealing glances at you during study sessions, her cheeks flushing pink when your eyes met. She was subtle at first, lingering near your dorm after she walked you to it, her excuses of needing to know you're safe, even when you were capable of defending yourself.

♡You were the one who asked Shauna on an official first date. It was probably in February, and the two of you were walking from your study session. She was rambling about a new book she had read when you interrupted, blurting out, "Do you want to grab dinner with me? Like... a date?" Shauna's eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled, a shy small smile that made your heart skip a beat, and nodded.

♡I think Shana is not an overall jealous person, overprotective? YES, but she still has her moments of jealousy. If someone flirts with you at a party, she doesn't make a scene (like Jackie would :D), but you notice her moving closely to you with her hand subtly resting on your back. Her tone growing slightly edgier when she addresses the person. Later that night, in the safe of your dorm, she'll admit it with a sheepish grin, saying, "I didn't mean to be territorial, but I couldn't help it."

♡Even in college, Shauna still plays soccer, dragging you to every one of her games. Watching her play, you can't help but admire Shauna's determination and grace on the field. And after every match, she'll come over, sweaty and grinning after another win, and ask, "Did I look cool out there, or was I a mess?"

♡Dating Shauna in college is a blend of unexpected adventures and quiet intimacy between you. She is still not for grand gestures but will show you her love with small gestures like bringing you coffee, snacks or tickets for a film she knows you'll love. Although she's still figuring herself out, after being so long just in Jackie's shadow, Shauna's presence makes you feel safe. In her, you can find a partner who is loyal and always willing to meet you halfway (sometimes not without a fight).

[voidartisan]

Anyway. Survived another semester. So. Star Wars characters as things my friends, professors, and classmates have said (plus a few things i've overheard on campus). two for the price of one bc in spring I forgor

Echo: Fives! GO!

Fives: NO! It's a free country!

Fives: *starts singing Republic anthem*

Echo: you can't sing the national anthem and BE A COWARD!!!

Ahsoka: Maybe they just really wanted there to be a gay weasel

Barriss: Hello. We were just talking about how my grandma's dog has a foot fetish

Sabine, in a class discussing ancient Egyptian art: Okay, don't hate me for this question, but, in the movie The Mummy---

Anakin: I didn't hit him that hard!

Obi-Wan: YOU BROKE HIS NOSE.

Omega: How’d you get those washboard abs, grandma?

Rex: I'd never say anything like that to you on purpose. You're like a daughter to me.

Echo: Thank you

Kanan: I watched two squirrels fighting in the middle of the street this morning. Kinda gave me Hector and Achilles

Din Djarin: WHO IS THIS BABY?

Rex: WHO DID YOU MARRY????

Luke: OH! I got t-boned to this song! :D

Kanan: Thou art the bomb dot com

Hound, dreamily: I want my ashes tested for narcotics

Thorn: They got a dried llama fetus. From Bolivia

Thire: Not the llama fetus

Jesse: Do you eat the cherry pits?

Kix: No? I'm pretty sure those have cyanide in them.

Jesse: *slowly removes cherry pit from mouth*

Obi-Wan: You'd think that with my very high reading level I would have figured that out sooner

Ahsoka: I mean, Yoda's made it that long

Barriss: Okay, but he's filled with happiness and good thoughts. I'm filled with bitterness and ibuprofen.

Ahsoka: This is why we have repentance and insurance

Cody, speaking to a spider in the shower: First of all, you're a pervert

Wooley, awake at 1 am: Next time, we should do drugs

Ezra: I thought I was about to have my Snow White moment, but instead, I almost got rabies

Leia: I'm trying to tell a story, and you're BOOGIEING

Hunter: I like where I am.

Phee: Surrounded by girls?

Hunter: No. Dirt.

Ventress: Give that man some cleavage

Riyo: When I say I've got that dog in me, it's Snoopy

Crosshair: If I was a bird, I would be homicidal

Luke: They made him straight. And SAD.

Wrecker: I don't need you to tell me what to do, number man!

Quinlan: Hear me out---

Luminara: You are NOT allowed to say that

Anakin: Arsonists are easy to catch. They leave a bunch of evidence.

Ahsoka: Like fire?

Anakin: Like fire.

Anakin, to Obi-Wan: You like blondes so blond that you can't tell if they have receding hairlines or not

Leia: I have no moral code when it comes to my father.

Hunter: I just love you, okay?

Crosshair: Okay.

Hunter: And I'm gonna slap you in the face the next time I see you.

Phee: They de-'tismed my boy

Fives, singing weakly, laying the wrong way on a mattress, with his legs up against the wall and head and arms hanging off the edge: 🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O, you can take me hot to go~🎶

Anakin: *shows Ahsoka a clip of the Grinch*

Ahsoka: How did they get live footage of you?

Obi-Wan: What were you saying?

Quinlan: I forgot

Obi-Wan: I know; I was just asking out of courtesy

Luke: A FULL rye chip?! Alms for the poor!

Ventress: Hold on, he's gonna do the slutty cape wave again

Rig Nema: He died of a pulmonary embolism

Kix: Happens to the best of us

Ezra: Should I have known that talking in a spoon in my mouth would make it fall? PROBABLY. But what if this ONE TIME it was DIFFERENT

Hera, abruptly: I need to start listening to more ABBA

Tech: I'm too weird and I need to get weirder.

Obi-Wan: Dead husband. With cancer. At least it's in a nice font.

Satine: Hmm. No.

Obi-Wan: I'm sorry, would it be easier to break the news in Times New Roman?

Phee: I am a very patient woman in terms of patience

Fives: *hands Tup his toast in order to take a picture of Jesse lying next to the trashcan*

Fives: *takes picture*

Fives: *holds out hand* Toast me

Padme: He can make that Perry the Platypus noise- and I think that's hot, by the way-

Echo: I’m going to commit a crime if I have to move these gnomes again

Kanan: My gym skills are akin to a headless chicken attempting hopscotch

[luthordamnvers]

ficwip - ‘promise’

Thanks for the tag @nostradamus0

Just as you, I have to search by file, because I've been using ellipsus for a few months now. Alongside libreoffice, so, same difference.

[link to OP]

Spoilers from my own fics, I suppose????

keep on waiting (underneath the mistletoe) Chapter 2

In all honesty, Lena might be desperate enough to find someone to take to the Christmas party she had promised her best friends. "Oh, shit." Jess said, seconds later. "What?" Lena lightly jumped in her chair. "You already have three happy cupcakes." Jess announced. "That means that there are three whole humans that want to meet you." She explained. "Imagine if it had been an actual good pic. You have to go to the next party. There's a holiday mixer this Friday at a member's house. I'll text you the address. Promise me you'll go." Lena grimaced. "Promise!" "Fine. Okay… Jesus. I'll go."

Supercorp : Can we always be this close (forever and ever)? (Don't ask me what this fic is about, I have no clue, but that's the title of the doc)

Esme was staying with her while Alex and Kelly were on their honeymoon. And while she did know English, and she was technically born on Earth, while they were around each other (and presumably they would be a lot given Kara’s relationship with Alex; the kid was her niece for Rao’s sake), Esme was as Kryptonian as Kara herself. And she needed to learn to control those powers. Kara promised herself that she would try her best to teach her niece how to handle them, while her mothers were out of town. Thankfully, she didn’t need to try alone. Eliza was also staying with them for the weekend before returning to Midvale. 

The HoTD Supercorp AU (Have I watched this show? no... And what of it?)

“We will survive, Kara.” Kal said, when they mourned her parents, and they became ashes by dragon fire. The crown sitting heavy on his head. “You and I are the future of our house. It won’t die with us, I promise.”

"It doesn't really matter if you don't need to produce an heir, we are all destined to marry after all, Kara." Lena commented, reading a book, sitting under the Weirwood tree at the palace's garden. "Unless you become a priestess…" "Or a knight…" Kara offered, frowning. Her head resting on Lena's thighs. "Kal promised." Lena sighed, like always, closing her book to look directly at Kara. "I know he promised, Kara. And he will probably be true to his word, but you know that the usual rules wouldn't apply to you." Lena said.

An even older Hallmark Christmas AU - Supercorp

“Are you ready, Aunt Kara?” Esme’s adorable voice asked. “Not quite, Esme,” Kara grimaced to her 6-years-old niece. Esme pouted, in impressively perfect Danvers form. “This is all she's been talking about all day,” Alex, her own older sister, informed her. “Wanting to get a Christmas tree with you for the bakery.” “I know, I know. I promised, it’s our tradition,” Kara apologized, looking at the post-it on her hand again. “I'm just running a little behind on my orders.”

Untitled - Rojarias (actual first fic I started of them, still sitting on 7k words)

"Last time, you drank two whiskeys and then started giving them to me, and switched to ginger ale. You are a lightweight." Andrea pokes fun at her, a smile threatening to settle on her lips at Samantha's silence. "Want me to send you some ice cream, then?" "I have ice cream…"  "I will buy you a drink tomorrow. After our big meeting, I promise." She says softly. "Hell or high water."

All three of them reconvened at Samantha's house, Andrea showed up to the suburban house with a newly-bought bottle of Macallan Sherry Oak.  Lena snickers at it as soon as she sees it. "You really need to update your moves." "It's definitely not a move," Andrea lifts a brow. "I promised Arias a drink last night. I'm just following through." 

That's all I got... I think...

No pressure tags @fazedlight @snowydragonscave @mycatismyeditor @tedgruver69 @thatonebirdwrites @fyonahmacnally