#the characters they always do a good job with!!

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR

synopsis: Professor Viktor, the most sought out and dreamt of professor at Piltover Academy. Luckily for you… you’re his favourite student.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, no beta we die like most of the characters in Arcane

genre: m/f, m/m (however you label yourself, I hope you can read this and enjoy it!)

Professor Viktor hasn’t been a professor for very long at the academy. After he and his partner Jayce Talis revolutionized machinery and magic in the form of Hextech, well… the academy and the council wanted their genius shared with the younger generations.

“The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” became a hit. This course had the highest approval ratings, least amount of absences, and highest amount of A students in the history of the academy.

Viktor’s proud of his students work, everyone else sees it as it is. Everyone is doing amazing due to their hot professor.

His attitude, his humour, his accent, his beauty. Professor Viktor is sin incarnate and doesn’t seem to realize it. The dreamy sighs, the lustful gazes. It all goes over his head like water down a ducks back.

Having Jayce come in as a guest speaker doesn’t help in the slightest.

The two men are gorgeous. Jayce with his broad shoulders, messy hair, and wonderful beard. A few strands of grey focused on his temples.

Viktor with his long hair, sultry eyes, lithe frame that’s mostly delectable legs. He dresses wonderfully too. All tailored to fit his frame perfectly. His tiny waist seems almost impossibly small.

Viktor tries his best to be impartial to his students; neutral as a good teacher should be… but there’s something about you.

You’re bright, intelligent, well-spoken. Overall beautiful. He can’t stop looking at you during lectures, he can’t stop thinking about you in the privacy of his own home; in his office as well.

You always pay attention in class, you ask riveting and inspiring questions, you continue the conversation Viktor is desperately trying to create to invigorate the students the way he and Jayce were all those years ago.

Your pretty eyes, soft looking lips, shiny hair. The way the academy uniform compliments your figure in all the right ways. He’s a man obsessed.

He knows you’re at least physically attracted to him. The way you bite your lip when you look at him, when you shyly look down when he compliments your work with a sultry “good job”

How you jolt in your seat from daydreaming when he comes up behind you and whispers in your ear to pay attention.

He wants to see how you react to other stimuli. A practical theory if you will.

Will you be good and listen to Viktor’s every command? Or will you be bratty; needing to be put over Viktor’s lap and your ass reddened to be taught a lesson. Would you prefer his hand, a ruler, or maybe even his cane?

How pretty would you look on your knees, taking his cock down your throat? Would your eyes water? Would you choke? Or are you secretly a slut, who can take it no problem.

Are you a moaner, a whimperer, a screamer, or a crier?

He knows his blatant desires for you are cementing you as his “favourite student” you can do things others can only dream of.

You can come to class late and not need a valid excuse, you can borrow any materials without reasoning, you can stay as late as you want during office hours; when anyone else would be politely but firmly told that their time was up.

People have noticed, everyone but you it seems. The rest of the class can’t help but envy you. How the hell do you have such a drop dead gorgeous man wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize it!

You’re going to realize it soon, when Viktor tells you to stay behind after class. That he has a theory he’d like to discuss with you.

That theory leaves you with your face feeling like it’s on fire, your throat sore, your body aching in a delicious way, your legs bowed, and your appearance completely disheveled.

Viktor gets the answers he’s been desperately craving and is not disappointed. He can’t wait for the semester to be over. He wants you, and he can pursue you when he’s no longer your professor.

He just gave you a taste of what he’ll give you everyday if you agree to be his.

(You’ll agree to be his. He rocked your shit)

[signanothername]

Hi Anó! Do you have any advice for writing characters like killer? How do you achive that nuance? I love your comics and would love to learn about your artistic process a bit!

Hi Gal!! A delight to see you in my inbox! <3

Omg thank you sm hcchhcchch (have you seen your own comics???? *shakes you* /pos)

Ok but I say this genuinely, I think your ideas and comics are such a beautiful and refreshing take on these blorbos, you’re doing such an amazing job both writing and art wise (your 2 Killers idea is so fucking good eeeeee) <3333

Ok to the question xgzggxzg

Killer is definitely.. complicated to write, I struggle with him sometimes ngl shshhdh

I honestly went and reread his entire comics, lore and answered asks to get a deeper look into him to be able to write him

But when it comes to writing him, I generally try to keep 6 things in mind at all times

1-trauma: how does the resets, working for Chara, having his code get manipulated and killing over and over again till what was new became something old affect him? (the whole idea of Killer killing people started as an offer of trying something new, so he kept killing till he got bored and killing became something stagnant)

This can easily be portrayed in Killer’s canon inability to till what’s real or not, as well as his hallucinations and the guilt he’s ridden with, always running from his past yet never outrunning it, as it always catches up to him

2- conditioning: his conditioning started from the days of Chara, then continued into his days with Nightmare, how does his conditioning affect him in his daily life?

How was he conditioned specifically? And how does that contribute to Killer’s perception of self, autonomy, self worth, and life in general? How does it change his body and mind?

Does it make him believe he’s just a machine meant to please others even when it hurts him, does it make Killer perceive vulnerability as a death sentence

How does he feel about his masters? Does he hate them down to every bone, or does he not care?

3-personality: Killer’s personality always change depending on the stage, but what are the main traits that you know Killer will always have regardless of the stage? Being quiet is one thing, he keeps to himself (as much as the fandom loves to portray him as extremely hyperactive, he’s not at all the loud, talkative, hyperactive skelle the fandom makes him out to be)

He’s also extremely secretive, seems to have knowledge that others don’t, and seems to always be up for a social interaction regardless of who’s with him

He’s also actually extremely patient (another thing the fandom stripped away from Killer’s character), and is very docile (isn’t aggressive unless pushed and never is an attack on sight kinda person) yet holds a grudge big time

He seems to see himself as superior over others, he’s extremely fucking intelligent it’s actually scary

These traits are something I try to keep consistent within my writing for Killer

4- relationships: what are his relationships with other characters like, and why?

Taking the 3 points before into consideration, how does Killer’s trauma, conditioning, and personality make him perceive others and others perceive him?

Are his relationships healthy? Toxic? Are they one sided or mutual? Does he care about the person in his vicinity or are they just another nobody? If he cares why? If he doesn’t what would he do to them?

Would he take advantage of his relationship with someone or is it a relationship he wishes for it to vanish?

5-stages: I think this is truly what makes Killer extremely complicated, cause see all of the 4 points above? how does each stage differ from each other?

How does stage 1 deal with his guilt/truama and conditioning? How does stage 2, 3, and 4 deal with them?

Depending on each stage Killer’s outward perception, personality, attitude, thoughts, and actions change

But how do they change exactly?

This is something that you need to understand each stage for to be able to integrate into writing

Stage 1 is the stage where he’s most sans like, yet never sans enough, stage 2 is when he’s apathetic to everyone and everything and perceives killing as “fun” because he’s painfully understimulated , stage 3 is when he’d attack whoever is in front of him, and stage 4 is when killer is no longer present mentally

How does each stage deal with his environment, with the people around him, how does he deal with the dissociation and how does he perceive himself in each stage?

6-environments: how does the environment Killer lives in affect him?

Killer starts in an environment of time loops, how does that affect his perception of time and reality? He then becomes Nightmare’s subordinate, a dangerous environment with constant threats to his life from every angle, how does Killer feel about it? How does he deal with it?

Will he get to try his luck and escape, or has he given up on himself and the idea of freedom? Does he even believe he has a chance for a better life in a safer environment? Will he go for a safer environment or will he cling to the comfort of what he knows?

When he does finally go to a safer environment, how would that affect him? Both positively and negatively? Would he feel like something is missing? Would his mind constantly tell him that this safe environment isn’t really safe?

Then of course, beyond these main 6 things, there’s the in between, what are Killer’s likes? His dislikes? How does he feel about sleep, food?

Generally when writing characters, it’s important to keep in mind interpersonal factors, intrapersonal factors and environmental factors that ends up affecting the character’s behavior, or in this specific situation, Killer’s behavior (god I’m realizing how much my uni major affects my writing of characters rn chchc)

But I say the biggest life saving advice I have that helps with writing characters in general (and especially complicated ones like Killer) is having the question “why” as your closest friend

When you make a statement about a character, in this instance Killer, always attach the question “why” at the end till you can’t attach it anymore, until you reach a point where asking “why” becomes unnecessary and annoying

For example:

“Killer loves golden flower tea”

Why?

It reminds him of the bed of golden flowers he passed out on

Why does that matter?

Because it was the point of no return from a change that will always dictate who he is

Why is it a point of no return?

Because his soul had deformed beyond recognition and it can never be brought back to how it used to be

Why would it dictate who he is? Why can’t he just choose to be someone else?

Because he was conditioned to be this killer by a higher power out of his control

At this point, there are no more “why”s that would make something as simple as a golden flower tea statement more nuanced than it already is, so when you ask why again, you find that you’re unable to continue giving an answer, that’s the point of where you stop

In fact, allow me to test you by giving you a quick question about your own interpretation of the characters, why does your Nightmare admire Error? What is in Error that Nightmare admires specifically?

Of course, you don’t really need to answer me, but I’m just giving you an example of how asking “why” can help you make so many simple things more nuanced

Ok but what if you know there should be an answer to a “why” but you don’t know it yet? Then you keep it in mind for later, you won’t always have the answers to everything on the get go, sometimes, you need a bit of time to figure things out and write characters the way you feel satisfy you, until then, you can work on other things about the characters

*Cough* anyway, this is honestly everything I can think of off the top of my head? Hopefully I didn’t miss anything ydfhgchchchc

Do let me know if you’d like any more help or need clarification on anything, I’d be happy to help where I can <33333

Now have a sketch of your 2 Killers cause I love them dearly, they have a special place in my heart (genuinely adore how you write Killer already btw)

[burningembers91]

Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in

A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.

You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.

You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.

Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?

“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.

“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”

Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.

He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.

That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.

“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.

“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”

You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.

“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.

You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.

“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.

“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.

Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.

“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”

You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.

“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.

“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”

Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.

“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.

You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.”

A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.

You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.

[thisuserisgonesorry]

1,, im not a teenager . might be young but i have a pretty good grasp on adulthood atp , and i’m not the only person that thinks this specific take; ive asked a lot of mutuals/friends who are (young,,) adults and agree w/ me and many people in rbs agree so like .. bringing my age into this is so left field cos . idk . weird thing 2 say

2 in my experience from living in a very “redneck” (lack of a better term) area (though not america, so there could be a difference), ive met 20-25 year olds who look and act exactly like daryl in s1 because teenagers in redneck areas just look like that. thats where my estimate came from, due to my own experiences

3,, norman reedus literally just looks young in everything he plays . you cant deny that he has a bit of a baby face and doesnt ALWAYS look his age . (but also celebrity men do look like that cos they dont just start rotting away the second they hit 23 because blue collar / minimum wage jobs suck) and never did i say there was a problem w/ him being 40 , just that it didnt make sense in my mind,,, nd actors can play characters that are a different age than them. norman being 40 ≠ daryl having to be 40

4,, he wasnt embarrassed until around season 3-4 iirc , closer to when he was around more people and less isolated , closer to merles death , more so around when he found out carol would go to that community home to get away from ed and then more around beths whole arc (iirc? im a bit aways from s3 rn,,)

nd considering 25+ is around when the frontal lobe developed. yeah. he would act like an idiot in s1. like all young adults do. and he would helplessly follow his brother around for validation considering his childhood, and he’d do whatever he wanted. he would be a terrible drunk, with no job. young adults do that. especially ones w/ mental health / bad childhood

then he develops into a person who was willing to learn to deal with his trauma when around season 4 when (in hc) he’d be like 27 at the earliest (?) because we have to remember that we skip all of loris pregnancy and then the first year (?) of judiths life. making him on the closer side to 30 around the time the prison, when his character starts developing.

(and i never said 25 was the solid age, just that hes “like 25”, meaning im happy to account s1 daryl as 26,27,28, whatever, just that hes under 30 in s1 in my mind)

5 i agree that him being older plays a part in his story but i dont think being 25 suddenly makes him a little baby that makes his development void. his frontal lobe developed. that is a valid subtextual reason for him to mature. but that isnt the only thing that made him reflect and want to cope with his trauma. merles frontal lobe developed and he never tried to do what daryl did - therefor the age thing doesn’t exactly diminish his story or else merle wouldve changed before the outbreak, but he didnt, because some people dont. some people reach frontal lobe age and stay the same. its not “he just grew up” because then merle would have too, but he did grow up, and realised following merle was stupid. but he wouldnt have reached that outcome if there werent other factors so it can easily be both

6 i never said 40 looks old or that theres a problem w it, but how is he older than rick? than most of the other people there? being older than rick feels like it makes no sense (although rick didnt grow up like daryl did and they had carl young so blab yeah theres reasons) and merle being 35+ does make some sense though id somewhat agree 35 is young for merle. m not saying that ppl start decomposing when they hit 30 but god forbid i hc someone as not 40

+ trauma physically ages people so even if daryl did look the same age or older than rick, then it would still be plausible that hes younger. we see trauma age characters in this show. its not hard to assume it happened to him outside of the outbreak too

prob formatted this like a mess but ,, m tired

n e way other people in the rb say that they think daryl is different ages to all of them (varying from 20-40) and as i said in those rbs its interesting that no one can really “agree” on what age he should be cos hes an enigma like that and i think it suits him,, like we all can agree on certain things about certain character cos its a unanimous vibe but then his unanimous vibe is that no one truly knows him??? subtext of it all .

anyway /nm for all of this . im just a little guy . i respect ur opinion cos i love my pookie and i really do love that everyone interprets his story so differently ,,,, i just like talking about it

idgaf im sick of not saying it. s1 daryl dixon is not fucking 40 bro. hes like 25. there is no way in fucking hell.

[tootiecakes234]

Busy

NSFW(MDNI) ; Character Aged Up

Kinda fluffy, kinda smutty...

It was Saturday afternoon and you were on the couch all comfy. You had cleaned and cooked dinner. Now you were impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to get home.

The two of you have been dating for 2 and a half years now and living together for 6 months. You decided to take that step because you wanted more time together. Between your job and Katsuki's as a pro hero, you guys were always trying to find time for each other. Moving in had made this a lot better, but this past month has really been hell.

Kat left for a week on a mission out of the country, and a day after after he got back, you had to leave for a business trip for a few days. As soon as you thought the worst was over, there was attack after attack from the League of Villains. He was getting called in to work even on his days off.

The time apart was driving the both of you a little crazy. Your mood has been down and you haven't wanted to do much besides stay at home and sulk. You knew Katsuki was getting to a breaking point because you were hearing more complaints about him than usual.

He'd never admit it, but you are a big factor in him keeping his attitude in check. You had a very calming affect on him, so when he goes too long without real time with you, he reverts back to his asshole tendencies.

You are completely caught up in your show, when you hear the front door slam shut.

“Katsuki, why are slamming the door?” All you hear is him in the walkway tugging off his boots and grumbling to himself.

You get up and walk over to where is and all the frustration on his face starts to melt as soon as his eyes land on you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you walk over to him and slide your hands into his sweaty hair. “You stink ‘suki”

“Wow thanks. I just worked an 8 hour shift kicking ass all day” he rolls his eyes, “sorry hard work doesn’t smell good.

Even though you complain you don’t move away from him. You feel like you haven’t seen him more than an hour at a time recently.

“You should shower and then come out and eat. I made your favorite for dinner.”

“Yeah, I smelled it outside the door and my mouth was watering. I didn’t have time to eat lunch today.” He says a little hesitantly because you’ve chewed him out more than once over skipping meals when he puts his body through so much.

And you probably would have again, if you didn’t see the exhaustion in his face.

“Then do you wanna eat first, then shower. I don’t want you to pass out in there.”

“If you shower with me you can keep watch. Make sure I make it out alive.” He says as sweetly as he can muster right now.

And you do shower with him. You end up washing his hair for him and giving his shoulders a little massage that almost puts him to sleep standing up.

After that you get dressed and go dinner plated for the both of you. While you’re in the kitchen Katsuki hangs off of you like a backpack everywhere you go refusing to let you go.

You have 0 complaints to offer because you’re both touch starved by this point.

You end up eating thigh to thigh in the living room on the floor with some trashy show on. Katsuki inhaling his food in 3 bites and then nodding off while you attempt to finish yours as fast as you can before you completely lose him.

You get up and take the plates to the kitchen and Katsuki is standing at the bedroom door waiting on you.

“Baby, I’m not really sleepy yet. If you want to lay down, I’ll come in a little later.”

“We’re not going to sleep yet. I haven’t held you,awake anyways, or been inside you in almost 2 weeks.” He comes over and starts pulling into the bedroom. “I have a plan. First, I’m gonna make you cum… on my mouth. Then I’m gonna make both of us cum with me inside you.” By this point, you can already feel the wetness starting to pool inside your undies.

“And then, depending on how much energy I have left, I might repeat steps number one and two” this makes you giggle a little and his eyes are twinkling and mischievous. More bright and alive than you’ve seen them since he got home.

“By then, I promise, you’ll be so exhausted all you’ll wanna do is cuddle with me until we pass out.”

“You’re really cocky for someone that was just falling asleep. You probably won’t even have enough energy to complete step one”

By then he has you right on the edge of the bed. He pushes you so you fall back against the mattress with light “uumph”

You look up at him standing there all shirtless and sweatpants hanging low, and the hard outline in those sweatpants.

You think to yourself He might not have to touch to complete step one.

“Y/N the world would have to fuckin spontaneously combust to make me deviate from this plan.” He says as he crawls over you on the bed. “Now, you can either slide these fucking shorts off or I can tear them off you. Your choice.

*little did you know that Katsuki turned off both of your phones while you were in the kitchen and his work phone. He was being literal when he said nothing was getting in the way of this… not tonight. You he would MAKE time for.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*ummmm this was long but I’m trying to find my groove so…. Thanks for baring with me🤭

[kittenintheden]

headcanon, subjectivity, and convincing the reader

hi! I got a wild hair to write a little essay today. here's that little essay. it's about fic writing and how our subjectivity about the source material becomes a conversation with the reader. LEZGO.

quick primer on common terms:

canon: objective, indisputable truth about the property based on what is portrayed on the page/screen. it is canon in BG3 that Astarion is a vampire spawn, it is canon that Wyll is the only son of Grand Duke Ravengard, it is canon that Lae'zel is a githyanki originating from Creché Ki'liir, etc.

headcanon: an individual's subjective interpretation of events and characters in the property based on context clues, hints, personal experience, vibes, etc.

fanon: a more widely accepted community headcanon that is not objectively supported by the property but is generally accepted as a popular interpretation of the source material.

word of god: interpretations considered truth by the creators of the property that may or may not be included in the source material itself. this includes devnotes, responses to fan questions, behind the scenes material, etc. there's much argument to be had about whether or not this is considered canon if it's not also represented in the source material itself.

okay? okay! now let's talk about transformative works (fanfiction and fanwork).

the first rule of transformative work is that there are no rules. okay? okay! to get that out of the way. which is why this is a post about subjective interpretation.

(obligatory blah blah blah obviously having basic writing skill and knowledge is helpful for communicating your ideas to the reader, we all know this)

but what makes a transformative work GOOD? what makes a reader pick up a fic, devour it, and then go "holy shit I can absolutely see how these characters in this scenario make sense. I BELIEVE in this story and this author's interpretation."?

that's where things get complicated. let's do a cut bc this is about to get lengthy!

when we become fans of a property, it's because we are the readers/viewers having a conversation with the source material. something about it caught us and spoke to us, then drove us to create more art based on it and using it as a framework. that's important.

as readers/viewers, we will always have our own subjective interpretation of the work. that interpretation is informed by the work's canon, but it's also informed by our personal experiences, feelings, and knowledge. that's where headcanons and subjectivity come in. it's why some people feel a character is "annoying" while others find them sympathetic.

(there is a MUCH BROADER conversation to be had about how social pressures and oppression also factor into this subject, but that's not my intended goal with THIS essay, so I will acknowledge the fact that a person's internalized biases also inform their perception of the material and move on).

so, we all develop our own personal headcanons about a work. it's inevitable. sometimes those headcanons are based in canon, sometimes they're based on our own experience. where they come from doesn't matter -- they are yours and they belong to you, and they will inform whatever work you create.

now comes the part where we begin a conversation with the reader.

when you're writing fic, one of your many jobs is helping the reader to understand your perspective. this is very challenging! you're essentially creating a written argument for why the characters and elements in your story are unfolding the way that they do, but you're doing so via the vehicle of creative writing. you're depending on narrative structure, dialogue, characterization, setting, plot, tropes, themes, metaphors, etc. to make your "argument."

if you've ever heard people say a character "felt flat" or that an action didn't make sense or that a fic subject is OOC (out of character), that comes from the writer failing to provide a convincing enough argument for the story they're trying to tell. (note: I use the word "fail," but I don't mean it in the sense that the project was a failure. art is never time wasted. but as with most things, it may take time to get to a place where we have the skills to tell the story we want to tell.)

so: how the hell do we work on an issue like that?

a few ways.

first and foremost, at its core, a transformative work should be in conversation with the canon of its source material. that DOES NOT MEAN that canon should be treated as a Bible and ultimate authority (people rewrite canon well all the time), but it does mean a writer needs to consider what worked about the canon to be able to apply it to their own interpretation.

if you found a character compelling in the original property, you need to understand what exactly it was about that character that made them so compelling. it isn't just how they physically look or their signature catchphrase. what about the source material drew you to them, made you empathize, turned you on, etc.?

if a particular relationship made you absolutely feral, WHAT IS IT about that dynamic that caught and kept your attention? what makes them WORK?

THAT is what the conversation with the source material is about. it's about understanding why you were moved in the first place. it's distilling the subjects down to their essence so you can put them in a different scenario without losing the core of who they are.

now you need to understand where your HEADCANON comes from.

(you will notice a running theme here that in order to properly tell a story, you have to understand the story yourself!)

our own subjective interpretation of a work is informed by the knowledge we have (I have a degree in reading and analyzing and writing creatively, it's something I literally went to school for), our personal experiences (Astarion speaks to people with a history of sexual abuse and trauma, imagine that), and emotions that rise organically when we interact with the source material, either unexpectedly (whoa I did NOT expect that to turn me on) or with understanding (animal death always makes me cry because it's upsetting to see something that doesn't understand what's happening go through that and/or I remember when I lost my own animal companion).

so! you have a headcanon that Shadowheart and Nocturne were lovers. this isn't something verified by canon, but it is a scenario that makes sense given the information we have -- they were very close, they have a secret place together surrounded by the flowers Shadowheart calls her favorite, they know intimate details about one another's lives, and their history of standing up for one another and caring about each other is clear.

how do you convince a reader that this is a viable scenario?

first, converse with the canon. all the framework is there for a potential romantic relationship. their respective personalities work together. now, determine why you enjoy this headcanon. is it the intimacy, the loyalty, the kindness? is it the hints from canon that they were important to one another? is it that they have chemistry you find interesting and appealing?

this is the argument you must make to the reader. this scenario is plausible because of canon, character, and context. now you need to build on it and add your own perspective in order to convince the reader to see it as you do.

this particular example is a pretty easy thoroughline, but the same principle can be applied to more varied scenarios. modern AU? okay, how would that change the way these characters interact with the world without losing what makes them, them? pirate AU? okay, which characters would make the most sense to fit certain roles in that scenario given their existing personalities?

there's a common refrain in my writing circles that goes: "do what you want forever." we tend to use it in a flip way to mean that this is play and creativity and you can literally do whatever you want, but the deeper message is, "you can make anything believable with the right approach."

and the "right" approach is about maintaining a conversation between yourself, the source material, your headcanons, and the story you're trying to tell. it's about bringing all those things together in a way that will convince a reader to believe it.

it's a balance, and it's one that isn't universal. no matter what we do, subjectivity means that some people will not agree with our interpretation. that's okay. not every story is for every person. what matters is that you're writing YOUR story for the readers who want to engage with it.

so, at the end of the day: do what you want forever, and do it well :)

[nerdishpursuits]

And this is one of the countless reasons I love chatting about Mafin with @midniteowlet: she's my very own toma a Tierra and grounds me, so I can approach things more rationally.

Upon concluding our debate of the current turn of events on the show, Mafin on the whole and their narrative? I've come to look at things as follows. The show very much reflects society as it is: a sad state of affairs where good people hurt and unsavory characters often prevail. The fact that we want everything good and wholesome to triumph at every turn? Idealistic, not realistic. Not to mention lofty expectations actually prevent one from truly appreciating the show, with all its ups and downs and winding roads. And personally, I'd like to keep enjoying it, without getting dragged down the utopian rabbit-hole.

For the most part, the representation we get is actually well crafted: Mafin feels organic, tried and true, and the chemistry between them is undeniable and thrilling. More so? Their story doesn't feel forced and thus, can be promoted to any viewership without it coming across as preachy and condescending, or having an agenda. If anything, Mafin is by far the best developed, healthiest relationship on the show. I, for one, much prefer the portrayal of good communication, heartfelt romance and overcoming obstacles together than a deluge of r-rated scenes. And honestly? We are being offered a damn good story here, even as it fails to satisfy everyone's hopes and demands (which in all honesty, it never could - at the end of the day, someone will always be disappointed)

I'm also reminded of Marta B. mentioning in a recent interview that the show is not aimed exclusively at the sapphic community. As such, it will not depict or cater to its particular needs. It's part of a larger ensemble and needs to appeal to a broad audience. And, when all is said and done, it actually manages to accomplish more with this kind of storytelling: one that's simpler, one that doesn't try to be pedantic. Ergo, they will not linger and preach to the audience. What they will do instead is allow the characters, their circumstances and actions, to speak for themselves. And they will trust they're doing a good enough job to let people draw their own conclusions. So far, I think they've achieved that: there’s heterosexual people watching the novela who love Mafin and think they’re the best couple on the show, there’s elderly people learning to be more open-minded, everyone loves Damian's character development, everyone hates Santiago and acknowledges he is a despicable lowlife etc. The show is moving the pieces along the board quite deftly and it makes for an interesting, if not always gratifying, game.

As for today's episode? There's no doubt that Marta and Fina only have eyes for each other. They're an established couple who will face anything thrown their way as they always have, as one. No mustachioed men will ever change that. Marta and Fina's narrative will never be whether they desperately adore each other. That they do couldn’t be more obvious. Their story? Ever has it been, and will continue to be, about their fight to attain freedom: freedom to live their love in a society that forbids it.

Therefore, I've reached the point where I'm not worried at all about either Santiago or Pelayo. Based on Pelayo's reaction upon learning Marta is a lesbian? I doubt he'll help Santiago in his attempt to sink Marta's ships. To me he comes across as a calculated businessman, but not a heartless one. He stands to profit more from a partnership with the de la Reina family than throwing Marta to the wolves. He also didn't bat an eye at Santiago's reveal, wasn't surprised or outraged. Which, I'll go out on a limb and say, is telling. He's either gay himself or simply plans on advancing his business / political career by securing a partner that won't demand his attention or affection. The first scenario ensures he remains socially upstanding while the second allows him to live as he pleases. To a man like Pelayo? It's a jackpot either way. Hopefully, the benefits outweigh the costs for Marta as well, should the plot move in that direction. And given all the signs? It's already halfway there.

That being said. It remains to be seen what happens to Santiago. I assume, and hope, his little ploy at denouncing Marta to the Civil Guard will cost him, dearly or otherwise. His own thirst for vengeance pushed him to make the wrong move which is, in my opinion, seeking out Pelayo. And while there's plenty of outraged cries that Marta & Fina don't need another man to save them? Let's not forget it's 1958. The likelihood of neither of them attracting a suitor, fake or otherwise unwelcome, is as doubtful as improbable. The fact they managed to successfully evade them so far? Quite the feat.

As for what awaits? Marta won't go to jail, I think, since that card has already been played. Or who knows? We might be surprised. The fear they need to instill in her requires new heights, in order for Marta to reluctantly accept another cage. Mind you, she's still trapped: as much freedom as she currently wields, Marta remains a woman whose very social status entraps her, singling her out as prime real estate. She's the proverbial golden goose, especially as dictated by the mores of society back then. Marta and Fina's shared dream of freedom remains, for now, a dream. One they've almost had at their fingertips, which makes their current circumstances all the more painful. I will say: it stings that Fina won't be the first to read Marta's journal. Undoubtedly, at some point, she will. After all, that journal is a mirror of Marta's very heart. It lays out her deepest fears, her innermost longings. It chronicles the fiercest battles Marta has had to wage with herself, her losses and triumphs, her meditations and hymns, the anguish and the deliverance of her love for Fina. To have it fall into the wrong hands? A violation of the utmost personal, a desecration of what is deemed sacred and untouchable. The diary symbolizes Marta having a safe space to call her own, one where she was allowed to embrace her true self, one that initiated her journey to freedom, her quest to rid herself of her shackles. Santiago has no honorable bone in his body and his hatred towards women, and Marta in particular, drives him to invade and vandalize her privacy, this blessed sanctuary she got to call her own. Let's see if Pelayo rises to the occasion and proves himself as a noble character. You can never have too many allies. Do I still take issue with how certain things are handled, with the inconsistencies and shoddy character work? Definitely. But I’m also able to simply sit back and enjoy. Let's see where all this goeth, shall we? Hello pain, let's go again.

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

It’s always immensely fascinating to me when you pit an “I am hated by EVERYONE” character with an “I have no idea who you are; should I?” character. There are always so many ways it can go, and I really like the way this left it.

Also, can I just say I appreciate HOW you characterized the reader?? The medical system is corrupt, nurses are overworked, patients don’t always feel human and aren’t always treated as human… you displayed all this while also showing that there IS humanity as well. There ARE good nurses and there ARE people who care and there ARE people who will do their jobs wholeheartedly, to the best of their abilities, no matter who is lying in that hospital bed.

So often, I see and experience only the negative end of the medical system. (For good reason—there is a LOT of negative experiences for a LOT of people). But it was nice to see a positive(ish? Because Aaron was still a prick) representation of it… even if it is just fiction. It feels like it could maybe actually be possible some day.

Chapter 1: Morphine and Lavender (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

okay this is terrifying but hi I am going to share some of my writing! this is just a snippet I wrote cause Frank is always on the brain. thank you tuna team for the encouragement <3

content warnings: hospital, canon-typical violence/gore, mentions of needles, language

word count: 1.1k

Frank was beginning to think they had left him in there to die when he heard a knock. You opened the door with a huff, brushing your hair out of your face before giving Frank a curt nod.

“Alright, hi, sorry, I know I’m not your assigned nurse but everyone in my unit decided to take lunch at the same time, so you are stuck with me at the moment.” you mumbled, barely looking up at Frank as you wheeled your computer stand to his side. You stayed outside of the duct-taped line, but it didn’t seem to bother you much. In fact, you didn’t seem bothered at all. Frank’s eyebrows furrowed together as you pulled up his medical youet, searching for his name.

“Okay, you are Mr…Castle?” you asked, the sound of your mouse clicking echoing in the small hospital room.

He blinked, dumbfounded. “...yes ma’am.”

You nodded, your relaxed (but rather exhausted) expression staying constant even as you said the name that was headlining every newspaper in New York. 

“Mr. Castle, could you give me a pain rating on a scale of 1-10?”

He blinked again. He felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe. His assigned nurse hadn’t talked to him in the few days he’d been here, much less give him treatment he’d give another patient. An innocent patient. 

“Mr. Castle?” you repeated. 

“Right--uh…five.” he said quietly.

At that, you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down slowly. You eyed the numerous bruises, cuts, and scars he was no doubt covered in, and asked, “That your final answer?” 

Something like a smile itched at his lips, but he forced it down. “...yes.” 

You shrugged, typing something into your computer. “Alright, well at least the painkillers are doing something. I’ll make sure to get a refill for that--” you paused as you looked at the full IV bag of morphine, following the IV down to…the floor.

You grabbed at the IV, looking at the wire and then back to Frank. “Did you yank this out?”

“No, ma’am.”

“The fuck?” you murmured, before understanding seemed to dawn on you. The cuffs, the bright red line of tape, the bruises on his face. Frank waited for disgust, for you to become terrified, for you to spit in his face. Instead, you stubbornly set your jaw and walked back to your computer. 

“Who the hell is your nurse?” you sounded furious, but it didn’t seem aimed at him.

Frank, through his confusion, could only shrug.

You rapidly typed at the keyboard, eyes running up and down the screen. Then you stopped scrolling, eyes narrowing. “Did he have blonde hair? Eagle tattoo on his forearm?”

Frank vaguely remembered the eyes of an eagle staring back at him as he faded in and out consciousness from the pain, a man with blonde hair sneering down at him. He nodded. 

“...motherfucker.” you all but growled, and the sound turned into a jagged laugh. You threw your hands up. “Aaron. Of course it--god fucking…damnit--”

Frank felt he was obligated to ask, or maybe his curiosity got the best of him. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

You laughed humorlessly again, words tumbling out of your mouth. “Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. I haven’t slept in two days, haven’t been in my own bed in almost a week, and all because I need to take extra shifts. Why do I need to take extra shifts? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I decided to move to New York fucking City where an apartment room costs more than an arm and a leg! And just when I think--oh just when I think I’m gonna get that promotion? No. No, I lose it to Aaron, who won’t even do his goddamn job correctly!” you finished with a burst of gusto, before collapsing down into a chair.

You just sat there for a minute, face buried in your hands, and Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do besides give you the grace of silence. 

The absence of noise was quickly interrupted by your pager going off, and you reluctantly held it up to your vision before sighing and putting it back at your hip. It seemed to snap you back into reality, and you stood up and smoothed down your hair.

“I’m…very sorry about that Mr…” you glanced up at the computer again. “...Castle. I’m--that was unprofessional, it has just been a…very long week.”

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “...you really don’t know who I am?” 

You grabbed some gloves from the table and snapped them on. “Someone very humble, I see.”

That got him to laugh, a low rumble that made its way out of his throat. He…couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. It felt nice. Familiar, even after all this time. 

You shook your head with a small smile, grabbing the IV and sterilizing it. “No, I do not. I’m not even sure what day it is, to be honest.”

He nodded, stretching out his arm for you and making a fist. “But you…I mean they told you…somethin’, right? A warning?”

“I vaguely recall being told to stay behind the red line besides when absolutely necessary, yes.” you said, readying the needle. “Small pinch.” 

He stared, barely registering the sensation of the IV. “...so you…then why would you…?” He tried to find the answer in your face, but all he could see was concentration onyourtask. 

“Why would I…?” you repeated, waiting for him to continue. With the IV in his arm you took your gloves off, typing something on your computer.

“...I don’t know, you’re just being awfully kind.”

You pursed your lips, a hand going to your hip. “I’m not being kind, I’m doing my job. I took an oath to help people, no matter who they were, and that’s what I’m doing. Simple as that.” 

He grunted absentmindedly, his eyes flitting to the window. Ten stories down, New York raged on, lights flashing like fireworks. “Doesn’t seem simple.”

You shrugged. “It is to me.” you started wheeling out your computer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Hopefully that IV will help. If that dipshit comes in here again, you tell him about nurse malpractice. You have constitutional rights, even if you are off robbing banks or whatnot.”

With that, you were gone, the faint scent of lavender left in your wake.

Frank blinked. “...robbing banks,” he mumbled before closing his eyes, letting the numb feeling of morphine finally lull him into sleep.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Island of the Procrastinating Brain

I swear, my brain is actively trying to drive me insane.

Back in 2022 it came up with a plot for @alex51324 's "Island of the Gays" where the Duke of Crowborough comes to the Island because, well, by this point the man's less of a human being than he is a walking bundle of neurosis. I got through a couple of scenes before my brain got tired and stalled out, but I still have a good frame work. Every once in awhile, I come back and poke at it and get out a few more sentences. Maybe even a paragraph or two.

Yeah, have I mentioned I'm not a fast writer?

And Phillip does NOT want to deal with his issues and Thomas does NOT want to deal with Phillip, which, okay, FAIR, but that's kinda the point of the whole thing. But in the meantime my brain still wants to write Phillip on the Island, so what's it done?

Come up with a sequel, naturally!

And it really, really wants to write this sequel despite the fact I can't do it properly until I've written the first piece, which neither my brain or my characters seems interested in, because they are all PUNKS, but my brain will NOT stop thinking about this hypothetical sequel which, at this point, will never be written.

So I'm just going to write out the summary for the thing here, in case anyone's curious and wants a laugh, because I can and maybe it'll galvanize the lump of grey cells in my skull to be productive. Maybe. Not holding my breath.

Things you need to know before going into this:

Random.org has decided that Thomas is married to Peter Fitzroy for this one, which is kinda important for Thomas's characterization.

Phillip only kinda counts as human at this point, but he's actively trying to fix that. The results are mixed.

It was inspired by a couple of polls I ran when I was trying to figure out where I was taking the first piece (hey! I have the last scene written!) and the suggestions that Phillip might like working in some sort of architectural field (believe that was from @o-rchidae) and that he wind up married with an older working class bloke who would not take his shit.

Right then. Let's go.

-

Okay, so, this takes place a couple of years after the Walking Disaster of Crowborough arrived. At one point he was tapped to help with building or repairs or some such and he realized he liked it, so he's taken to studying books on building and architecture and has joined up with the local work crew. The problem is, he's basically teaching himself out of books and then applying it to real life, so he keeps getting ideas about "Say, why don't we do this thing THIS way?" and while it'll seem like a reasonable idea, there is, in fact, a very good reason NOT to do it that way, but because a) he's a Duke and b) a bunch of people hate him, on general principle if nothing else, everyone just goes "Oh, okay, sure" and the do it that way and…it fails. And the people who hate him laugh and it's obvious that EVERYONE knew it was a bad idea and he gets frustrated, but he wont' say it, because a) Duke and b) boys don't cry.

And this goes on for awhile.

After a bit, though, a new guy shows up who has lots of experience building things. It was kinda his job before he got here. He is educated in the ways of Building Things and knows what's up. He's also at least ten years Phillip's senior and has limited patience for upper class twits, so when he joins the crew and is informed there's this know-it-all-Duke who's always demanding they do things his way (by which we mean 'making suggestions that everyone just goes along with'), even though it's stupid and wastes time and resources, this guy goes "Pff, not on MY watch!"

And sure enough, the next time Phillip makes one of his suggestions, instead of "Yeah, sure, okay" he gets "We're not doing that." Why? "'Cause it's a stupid idea that won't work." WHY? "Because (insert full explanation of why the thing wouldn't work)." And Phillip stops asking and the rest of the crew cheers and laughs at how the old guy sure showed him and they anticipate an end to the questions.

THIS TOTALLY BACKFIRES.

Instead Phillip, who had actually been kinda slowing down on the suggestions over time, is making ALL of the suggestions, ALL of the times, and arguing every last aspect of the suggestion with Old Timer before giving up. The crew can't put up a fence without an argument. Old Timer starts calling Phillip 'Phil'. Rather than tell him to stop, Phillip just starts calling Old Timer by a similar nickname, which Old Timer ignores, because not giving in to his own trick, oh no. There's talk of starting a police department in case they murder each other.

After this has gone on for awhile there is a Big Dramatic Plot Twist and the Old Timer goes out into the woods for something and…doesn't come back in a timely manner. He stays gone long enough for people to get worried and mount a search. To everyone's shock, Phillip wants to come. He's quite insistent on the point. They finally agree to put him in Thomas's party because he and Thomas "get along now" (read: Thomas has spent enough time with Peter talking him down that he can tolerate Phillip's presence under the right circumstances as long as he doesn't say anything). The parties go out and before long, Thomas and Phillip's party has the good luck to find Old Timer. He's accidentally been injured badly enough he can't walk and crawling through the woods is not easy going. The manner of this accident wasn't a super obvious bad idea, but that could maybe have been avoided with a bit more thought, perhaps, with luck. Most of the party just nods and goes "Yeah, sounds about right, could have happened to anyone."

…Phillip flips straight out and starts screaming at Old Timer for being an idiot who could have got himself killed. And then storms off a ways into the woods, back toward the village, leaving everyone else wondering a) the best way to get the injured man back home and b) what the heck just happened with the prissy little Duke. Thomas gets deputized to go find out what Phillip's problem is. There is protesting involved, but he finally gives in because he'd like to be home by dinner, thank you very much.

Phillip has, by this point, stopped to have a smoke, which both gives Thomas an opportunity to catch up and, thankfully, a scent to find him by. Thomas asks him why on earth he's so upset that Old Timer is hurt since the two of them hate each other and everyone figured Phillip would LOVE it if the other man died…

And that's when he finds out that everyone's had that relationship all backwards. Phillip doesn't hate the Old Timer, oh no! He loves being called 'Phil'. He absolutely adores the fact that when he asks "Why don't we do this?", rather than just go "Yeah, okay" and waste time and resources doing something HE KNOWS WON'T WORK, the Old Timer says 'no' and, over the course of the argument, actually EXPLAINS why not, which means Phillip ACTUALLY LEARNS THINGS. The more he argues, the better he becomes at building things and he doesn't have to try and decipher what some book is telling him or guess what the book might be leaving out and he LOVES IT and if the Old Timer had died, how would he learn things then? When Thomas points out that he'd learn just as much - maybe more - if he just asked the Old Timer to teach him things rather than argue, Phillip low key panics because what if he figures out Phillip WANTS to learn and stops talking to him or refuses because he doesn't like him at all?

By this point Thomas is a) trying to remember if he was ever THIS paranoid, and praying he wasn't and b) wondering what on earth to do with a Duke who is clearly in love with a crusty old working class codger, but hasn't figured it out yet.

He decides to tell Rouse and make it HIS mess to deal with.

Phillip and the Old Timer eventually get married and get a cottage of their own and Phillip about dies happy at the idea of a home that he actually owns instead of something that he's the custodian of for the next generation who will be the custodians for the generation after that and so on.

[vonbabbitt]

Throwing this in, though I know you have a post saying you're taking a break: I quite like Tetro. The story is exciting, and incredible. You've done an amazing job piecing everything together, and it has lead to me pretty seriously looking into following the footsteps of this project with a story also told in this audio format, since you demonstrated so clearly not only how this was possible, but how this could be done so well for a Killing Game specifically. The latest events, the latest death, as made me incredibly sad, and I feel a lot of emotional turmoil over losing both victims. But despite that, I have enjoyed the loving, losing, and worrying for the future. That's amazing. All of it is amazing. I have my theories and conclusions about who may be guilty and who isn't, but based on the posts I read, I mainly wanted to express an amount of thankfulness that the series exists at all. It's even lead to me writing fanpieces for some character interactions, and I imagine I have a few more in me from all that's gone on. Not only that, but the hard topics of this series have meant a lot to me. Yanagi and Tsuno have especially felt really close to home. The stories they talk about and the things they deal with matter in my own life. And the series as a whole has made me cry over stuff that mattered to me much more than any other media has done in the last year or so, maybe longer, in even broader strokes. All the characters don't just feel like people one could meet, but people I have met. People I have known. And some of those conversations feel just like ones I've had in my own life. You've done something incredible, and the writing has connected to me deeply. And though I can only speak for me, I doubt I'm alone in this. Thank you for this project, and thank you for sharing it so broadly, freely, and completely. Thanks for writing it, and writing daringly, maturely, and earnestly. At least, such are the ways I would describe it.

I hope I can cross paths with you sometime in the future over a creative endeavor. But in the meanwhile, I'll be tuned in to whatever you do for this, and for whatever comes next. As these things are called asks, if you do decide to respond: Who on Tetro is your favorite? Is it the same from when you were initially writing it? And what lead you to choose an audio drama as the medium in question? Thanks, and see ya at the trial.

thank you very very much, im extremely glad that youve been able to connect with my writing on that level and i hope that others have as well! i really enjoyed the writing process for tetro so its always really cool for me when others can enjoy my story as well

also, my favourite is hama! that changed a lot during production, but ive settled on hama as my goat forever i think. sorry to all the other favs i abandoned along the way

i chose the audio drama format because ive always really liked being able to picture things. when i was a kid, i used to fall asleep to audio books every night, and i really liked being able to picture the characters and stories as they were happening. i would always be so disappointed when id go to watch a movie adaptation of a book i liked only to see that everything looked different from in my head lmao.

i also think audio is a really fun format for this type of story! it was a fun challenge to get my points across without having visuals to back my writing. i didnt have very much faith in my ability to do this at first. tetro was originally planned to have a narrator because i didnt think id be able to tell a story without one. when i realized my writing could stand on its own, i took out the narrator and just let myself carry it as best i could. i think it made for some really fun opportunities where the impact of a scene just wouldnt have been nearly as strong if there had been visuals or narration.

i think [Ice Fairy] is a highlight of tetro in terms of audio storytelling - same with [Good Child]. having only audio forces you as the viewer to take a moment to figure out what's happening, which in turn gives you an "oh shit" realization moment that really helps the impact of a scene like [Ice Fairy] or [Good Child]. there are still some more really cool examples of tetro utilizing its format left to come - i hope you enjoy them when they do!

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Matt Montgomery - Closet Geek & Closet Freak

An Adult in Eltingville that actually acts like an adult???? WHAT???

Matthieu "Matt" / "Mattie" Thomas Montgomery [02/16/1978] Not Affiliated with TEC - Known Tournament winner amongst Jerry's MTG players. Cosplayer and College student in Manhattan. AOL / Online Users: [MTM_cosplay] | [GoblinHoarder] Theme Songs: Talk talk - Charli xcx | Move Along - All American Rejects | Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Favorite Shit: Trading Cards, Puzzles, Sports cards, Cosplays, X-Men, Monsters, Kaiju, Robots/Mecha, Dr. Who, Rubicks Cubes, Hard Cover books, YAPPERS, Movie Marathons, Beast, Wolverine, MTG, D&D, Cosplay Contests

I don't know how tf to describe this man other than tired and done with everybody's shit and he hasn't been awake more than an hour. He's three years into his bachelor's degree, essentially has 3 full time jobs between cosplay, tournaments, and all of his school work PLUS TUTORING, homie barely has enough time to breathe let alone deal with the TEC. However, that doesn't mean he won't find a way to weasel himself in-- even if its.... by unconventional or rather... *unexpected* means.

Guys I have like no art of him SORRY

Mattie generally only gets introduced very sparingly during 1999-2005, essentially in passing by Jerry or Josh, but he's still present and alive during this time, obviously. Him being friends with Jerry is what gets him to recognize Josh later.

Matt is studying for a Bachelors in English Comp, specializing in Journalism.

Speaking of, Josh and Matt work together at the editors office for the Comic Book News site in the epilogue. It's how they find each other again after Matt graduates and moves back home.

Matt is from northern Vermont, around the Canadian border, and has a bit of a Canadian accent because of it.

Everyone picks on him about it except for May and Jerry, (yes, even Josh, but it eventually becomes endearing to Matt.)

MATT. LIKES. YAPPERS. He doesn't talk much, he doesn't have much to talk about. Books and papers and trying to explain gymnastics routines isn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world, y'know.

He also doesn't have the time to really subject himself to the extreme absorption that Josh and Bill can get with their comics and shows, so.. Tell him about them!

He didn't get access to a lot of the more nerdy, pop culture side of things because of his parents. They had a significantly stronger iron grip on what he and his sister were exposed to, so he never really...

well, he didn't get to express his love for the more geek-y side of life until he moved to NY for college.

He became a professional cosplayer via his roommate forcing him to post, invited to events and photoshoots for his live floor routines he'll do in character, though he almost always wears a full-face mask or enough make up that you can barely tell who he is.

he can't have his sister finding out he dresses up as a blue demon freak in his spare time, yknow? (god she'd bully the shit out of him if she did--)

He's been in gymnastics since he was in middle school, and he's actually quite good; he's on a scholarship at his university, for pete's sake.

unfortunately a bad fall broke his clavicle and made it so he can't do vault anymore, but he enjoys his time doing floor routines and fucking around on the pommel horse from time to time.

Matt also.. is weirdly envious of TEC's... closeness? The fact they barely get along and yet they're all still together, they all still try and see each other or keep in touch..

He's never had that, and it makes him horrifically jealous, but he keeps it to himself-- smile and wave, swallow it down like normal, hm?

please subject him to a movie marathon. Infodump on him everything about whatever you're fixated on. He likes listening to people's voices, so please, just do it. It doesn't bother him at all.

This man has a TEMPER. His mother and his sister have this too, and it is BAD. Matt, however, learned ways to keep his temper at bay and calm down. to an extent. Bill, however, always manages to get his blood to boil by just the mention of him, so maybe... don't

Also, Matt and Pete absolutely bicker. A lot. Matt is constantly showing off that even though he's only an inch taller, he's able to do soOOSOooo much more! and Pete is convinced that Matt isn't actually gay and is trying to steal May away (guys Pete is such a fucking jealous goober I hate him)

Meanwhile literally the only person Matt wants is Josh. Pete should open his eyes maybe but like it's fine.

HOLY SHIT GYUSY

Okay UHM Hi Matt probably won't be talked about much but if you see me Vermont Honey posting it's because I need my comfort ship back okay THanks Also the NSFW cut is coming guys It's gonna have em all And I'll draw Jane and Matt's little sister soon, as they go to school together (Jane absolutely hates her guts OOPS unfortunately she's a bitchy cheerleader so you bet Jane has a voodoo doll of her somewhere in her room).

[vanadee-hailz-aka-best-merc-ever]

//Forgot I should probably post Gore’s info sheet as well… 😅

                •Basic Information•

🔴Name- Vanadee Hailz (pronounced Hallz)

🔴Age- 23

🔴Sexuality- Pansexual

🔴Gender- Female

🔴Species- Human

🔴Nicknames-Vanny, Val, Van, DD

🔴Reason for nicknames- easier to call her by

🔴From a Fandom?- MCU

🔴Zodiac sign- Aries

  •Physical appearance and traits •

🟠Hair color- bangs are dyed as left part is sage green and the rest of her hair is black

🟠Hair type and length- short wavy

🟠Eye color- grey

🟠Skin tone- pale

🟠Face shape- heart

🟠Body type- triangle

🟠Birthmarks- dimples

🟠Scars- one going up to her lips edge that starts from her chin, huge one on her back that looks like lightning, bunch of small ones on her hands, one on her collarbone

🟠Predominant features- dyed bangs and piercings

🟠Height- 5'9 1/3

🟠Dominant hand- Left

🟠Hair Style- alternative/ fluffy

🟠Jewelry/ Accessories- piercings, sometimes nails are done, pepper spray, symbiote tracker

🟠Are they healthy or not?Reason why- kinda, diet consists with a lot of acidic foods and drinks but she does love her red meats.

🟠Allergies- asparagus

🟠Glasses?- contacts, has glasses somewhere but not where she is in the book

🟠What do they wear when they are home alone?- usually a very large shirt that doesn't fit her, and underwear

🟠Tattoos- a quote on her inner thigh saying: "I stopped waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and lit that bitch up myself"

                   •Mannerisms•

🟡Speech Style- soft mannered when at work, generally more easily aggravated when in stressful environments

🟡Quirks- bounces there leg when sitting down and is bored, puts shoes on without undoing there laces, constantly moving

🟡Positive traits- intuitive, flexible, can do parkour, athletic,

🟡Negative traits- on edge constantly, paranoid, insomnia, alcoholic

🟡Drives/Motivation- protect those who need it and fuck the government patriarchy and the hero system

🟡Sense of Humor- Dark idk

🟡Private or Public?- Private

🟡Leader or Follower?- Leader

🟡Daredevil or cautious?- Cautious usually

🟡Optimistic/ Pessimistic/ realistic?- pessimistic

🟡Speaker or Listener?- listener

🟡Accent- Denmark/American

🟡Voice Claims- n/a

🟡Temperament- when she's doing her normal job she doesn't really react a lot but when she's a rouge it's like she's a different person, she's more angry and frustrated and lashes out which allows her to get an advantage in the battle

🟡Talents- she's really good with all ranges of weapons and can pull risky maneuvers on a motorcycle

🟡Flaws- sleep deprived and drinks alcohol

🟡Loud or quiet?- both

🟡messy or organized?- depends on her stress or paranoia

🟡solo or team player?- solo

🟡introvert or extrovert?- introvert

🟡relaxed or serious?- serious when doing hero work but relaxed when at home

🟡What will always make them cry?- extreme amounts of pain, and her moments....

🟡Do they celebrate there birthday?- no not really anymore

🟡What will make them Smile?- doing things that are associated with her love language ( usually directed towards ppl she likes or cares about) or anything related to cats

                   •Background•

🟢Hometown- Denver

🟢Social Class- Middle

🟢Education- Poor when she's was going to school but when she started working with O.P.A.C her knowledge increased exponentially

🟢First memory- ice cream with her father

🟢Worst memory- O.P.A.C getting sabotaged by the evil S.H.E.I.L.D she had in her universe

🟢Best memory-

🟢Most important childhood event,why?-

🟢Most influenced by- O.P.A.C

🟢Role models-

🟢Where does the character live? And with who if they live with someone- Lives in Queens,New York with her Cats.

🟢Do they want to move and where?- Once she's retired from O.P.A.C,has finally gotten away from Carnage, and financially stable enough she would in a calmer part of the USA, like Montana or Minnesota, or she would move somewhere out of the states w/o telling anyone.

🟢Type of childhood- questionable..

🟢Upbringing- In the public school system with extreme religious family members, began forming her opinions about politics and stuff during her first school years and Middle School and started rebelling from standard life from there. she also began to despise her father for not helping her and her mom when they needed help the most bc they were really poor while he was rich (they were also divorced bc the mom had an affair with someone who looked exactly like David but from a different universe- main reason Vanadee has abilities)

🟢Best Qualification- Being able to get a good kill and get away with it, and then get good money from it and still keep her morals of being a rouge.

🟢Most important person in their life and why?- the person that fueled her beliefs

🟢House environment- c a t s, and sometimes disorganized

🟢Childhood crush- Ariel, Maleficent, Eric, Prince Charming, Megamind (idk man-), betty boop

                         •Family•

🔵Mother- Jenny Hailz; died from disease

🔵Father- David Hailz; died from being killed by Vanadee- the beginning of her rogue/ vigilante life

🔵Siblings- Luke Hailz; still alive but no contact with Vanadee because he was favored child of David with a different women named Millie Abbot- who Vanadee also kills and is Gore's first official kill publicly.

🔵Relationship with family?- no contact

🔵Any children? Do they want any?- no

🔵Pets- cats

🔵Extended Family- no

🔵Close to family?- no

    •Favorites and Least Favorites•

🟣Favorite Movie- Probably a horror movie

🟣Least Favorite Movie-Twilight series

🟣Favorite Book- Song of Achilles

🟣Least Favorite Book- The Lottery

🟣Favorite Holiday- n/a

🟣Least Favorite Holiday- Catholic/ over celebrated holidays

🟣Favorite Mythological creature- Siren

🟣Least Favorite Mythological creature- tooth Fairies

               •Abilities and Bias'•

⚪️Affiliation- anti hero or rouge

⚪️Powers- bone manipulation, acid manipulation

⚪️Powers limitations- Has to either scavenge for bones from dead animals/ people or use her own ( which isn't comfortable and sometimes hurts depending on which bone, also very sensitive to touch) and has to eat acidic food to use acid abilities

⚪️Weaknesses- being near a symbiote, more weak if it's a symbiote from her universe

⚪️Allies- Orbit, Scarlet, Z spider, Ghost

⚪️How well known are they?- Really well in there universe and the one she's in now a little bit less

⚪️Costume-

(used as a tail)

(Not her own ribs- wrapped around outfit )

(Just the enlarged legs of a spider)

⚪️Do they have a voice changer?- yeah

⚪️Alias- Gore the rouge

⚪️Weapons- guns and knives of herself, she can use a lot of different type of weapons

⚪️ Gadgets/ tech- a small walk-in talkie looking device that tells her where crime is, a device to detect symbiotes nearby, and a badge to show to other O.P.A.C. members

⚪️Physical Weaknesses- Constant migraines from being near symbiotes and being an alcoholic

⚪️Fears- succumbing to Carnage's games, being fired from O.P.A.C.,

⚪️Motivations- getting bigger within O.P.A.C.'s ranks and to over come her weaknesses.

⚪️Why do they do what they do?- To get money and to spite the Hero/Villain system within the universe.

⚪️Mental/Emotional weaknesses- constantly paranoid she's being watched by anyone ( and Carnage) and the feeling of not being worth it in any situation.

⚪️Rivals- Carnage and any symbiote

⚪️Romantic interest? Who if yes- sometimes she finds people on dating apps but it usually doesn't work/ end well/ bc carnage kills them.

⚪️Do they have a known quote?- "I am Gore. The silent killer and agent of O.P.A.C."

                  •Miscellaneous•

⚫️If I could put them in a different universe or Fandom, which one?- probably other marvel universes bc that's what happens in her book

⚫️What was there first kiss like? Have they have it yet?- Compassionate and heavy

⚫️Have they ever lost somebody they loved and who was it? How did it impact them?- When her mom died from not being able to afford medication for her illness, she felt even more hatred for her father who is a rich government official- a major reason she hates how the government is and societal rules

⚫️What would happen if they were granted 3 wishes?- Be immune to symbiotes, make Carnage not exist, make her rich

⚫️There stranded on in island with________ and they have 4 items,who and what do they bring?- The siege perilous because then she could get off the island easily

⚫️what quote do they feel portrays them?- "If you don't terrify people a little bit then what's the point?"

⚫️Most prizes possession and why is it prized?- Alcohol, bc it brings her a relief from life; an escapism

⚫️Have they ever stolen anything? Were they caught? Do they feel guilty or prideful?- Yes,yes, don't feel guilty anymore- they see it as work now

⚫️What textures do they absolutely hate to feel?- chalk and pencil led

⚫️How long can they go without showering? When do they feel dirty?- a full week because being a rouge is very time consuming and they don't have time too do it, they may feel dirty but stress causes her to keep on trudging through her days ( 1 week is the max tho)

⚫️Where do they put there clothes when there dirty?- in the hamper and darks, whites, and towels have there own hamper

⚫️Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed and why?- closed and locked, paranoia keeps them up if they don't lock it

⚫️If they woke up with animalistic features such as ears and a tail( that were different from the ones they already had if they had any at all)how would they react?- probably take the day off from all her duties and her human job so she doesn't have to deal with the conversations about it.

⚫️if they could only eat one thing for 20 days, what would they eat?- a salad. There basic.

⚫️do they re read books they already have?- if they wanna revisit the series she might.

⚫️if they had the option to know when they would die, exact date, would they want to know or would they want to stay oblivious to it?- she wouldn't wanna know bc she would be paranoid.

⚫️What song would they listen to on repeat?- any phonk song in general

⚫️Do they believe in a form of a afterlife?- yeah probably

⚫️Do they crack there joints?- all the time

⚫️Spicy, Savory, Sweet, Bitter, or Sour?- savory and spicy- anything acidic tho

⚫️Do they adopt stray animals?- no they don't have time too, they do take them to animal shelters every chance they get.

⚫️Do they procrastinate or do they get it done asap?- get it done asap.

⚫️What is the temperature when they shower?- cold as fuck

⚫️Do they daydream?- at home yes not during work tho.

⚫️ do they work best in messy or clean environment?- depends. If she's upgrading gadgets for her rouge life then it needs to be cleaner, but she works at a butcher shop so that's messy

⚫️ do they keep personal photos? Why?- yeah but there in storage.

⚫️Do they indulge in anything?- Alcohol and sometimes tv series

⚫️ would they do the exact opposite that  someone says to them just to spite them?- depends on the person...

⚫️ if they're alone and they hear a noise would they go check it out or would they hide? Why?- She would probably get in rouge attire and beat the shit out of the person

⚫️ if they're lost what is the first thing they do?- check for cell service and or use compass

⚫️ what is a dream they had that was terrifying and made no sense too them?- Furries on a biscuit

⚫️ what is the stupidest thing they have ever done because someone said not to do it?- Drink poison to avoid Carnage

⚫️ are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured?- Stoic but when shes near Carnage he can tell

————————————————————

Brief run down of an important moment for the character, can be anything-

She works for a organization in her universe that functions like shield, but the shield in her universe is corrupt

(works with the government)so they go by a different name: "O.P.A.C."

Organization of Protection and Chaos

They have the Siege Perilous in there possession which allows them travel dimensions, they connected it through a machine that allowed them to have access to the other universes for as long as the machine ran. They then sent members to as many universes as they could that was suitable and basically made groups of the organization in many parts of the multiverse to make sure they were successful and able to protect civilians and people with powers.

Gore's part in O.P.A.C. is that of a hit man, she kills people that gets in the way and she also functions as a protector of there siege perilous if O.P.A.C in their universe ever fails. Gore gets paid for her job at O.P.A.C.

————————————————————

Short run down of there storyline-

This OC was made for the purpose of a self insert for a friends story which changes often but this is the main gist of the storyline- or actually a draft of the prologue of the story

⬇️

Gore's Pov

The sound of claws scraping on pavement became quicker and closer, my boots slamming on the ground as I made my aching body go faster and swifter with each turn and leap. My light headache soon became a migraine in seconds, and nausea was trying to throw me to the ground with my growing fear and annoyance- along with stubborn frustration. I forced my body forward, taking sharp turns and leaping from the roofs of building to building, trying to gain some distance from the red psychopathic symbiote enveloped host named Cletus Kassidy. Every single turn and leap I made, every single time, he lunged forward to try and get his clawed hands or his symbiotic tendrils on me, he would let out animalistic screeches and snarls of delight. Sadly, Carnage enjoyed the thrill of the chase, that's what I had learned all those months back when we had our first encounter. That monster knew my weakness, which where symbiotes and their hosts just like him, and he tried to take advantage of it with every movement either of us took in this cat and mouse chase of ours.

He tried to make another lunge for me, but I changed my pace and took a quick dive off the building I was on, mentally cursing at the fact I have the siege perilous on my person since I was protecting it. this growing space allowed me some strength to use my bone like structures to make more turns and parkour maneuvers to try and confuse my pursuer, even if it didn't last long because Carnage constantly was trying to close the distance. But he was able to find me within what felt like seconds of precious time for me.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP RUNNING FROM US GORE! ~ YOU KNOW WE WILL AND ALWAYS WILL FIND YOU!!" Carnage hollered from what felt like mere inches from me but was around 6 feet behind my every move. I could hear him clawing his way up buildings, as well as using his tendrils to get up and over buildings and the vast number of surfaces on New York building tops. Often glass shattering could be heard as well as the heavy thuds of his footsteps- most likely damaging the surfaces beneath him. I just grumble curses under my canine skull that I used as a mask with my distorted voice. The mutant's voice was always playful, it made me feel mocked and threatened. I don't like being mocked or threatened by anyone, let alone a symbiote.

I continue the repetitive cycle of climbing up a new building, keeping myself quick and agile enough even in my      migraine afflicted state to dodge any potential attacks from my pursuer. I occasionally miss my footing, getting me hit or almost snatched by a red tendril from Carnage, usually leading to him squealing in glee like a high school cheerleader getting asked out for prom. But his tendrils never snatch me quick enough or grip me tight enough, it didn't even slow me down, it just pushes my determination to move quicker from him.

And as if tunnel vision takes hold of me in my state of peril, I realize I was climbing up the biggest skyscraper of New York; the One World Trade Center. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach, panic, and rage bubbling within me. It only got worse when I could hear Carnage scraping the windows with his claws. like nails on a chalkboard, as if digging in deeper to get to me even quicker and lunge forward even farther. Like he was enjoying the hunt.

It was like I was at a stalemate mentally; I had no possible way of nose diving off the One World Trade Center and surviving, my abilities were too weak and even with them I wouldn't survive the fall. I'd die and be flattened like a fucking pancake!

'How will I escape this psycho freak?!' I thought with a snarl of pain and frustration while dodging a tendril that broke a window right next to my canine skull mask, I could feel the satisfaction emanating from him because he could sense my panic as if his symbiote had a 20th sense associated towards me, while I could sense symbiotes through migraines or headaches along with extreme emotions from them. And we had been going at this chase for ages when I noticed the sun was setting! The sky was in a huge range of colors as the sun began to set on New York's silhouette, as if the world was pleased and happy to know my downfall was eminent.

Eventually I managed to scramble up to the top of the One World Trades Center rooftop, heaving for breath from the migraine and the sheer effort I put into doing that whole stunt of scaling it in under an hour. But my moment to breathe was not something I was lucky enough to be granted apparently, because I had bolted to the other side of the rooftop of the One World Trade Center as Carnage made it to the top merely a couple heartbeats after me. Carnage lets out a low growl, tendrils whipping behind the 7'2 mass of a mostly red and black veined symbiote- slender yet fit in an uncanny way the symbiotes gave their hosts in such a form.

I just scoot even farther to the edge till I feel like if I take one step back, I will plummet to my death, which got me a crooked grin and distorted giggle from the freak.

"Dear- "Carnage began to coo in a voice that was a mixture of Cletus and the symbiote itself, taking a slow step closer to my body that was standing on the defensive as I glare daggers at him from behind the canine skull mask. I cut them off before they could continue their attempts to lure me closer, "DON'T call me that. It's GORE to you and your goddamn symbiote!" I snarl in the distorted voice I spoke in behind my canine skull mask. I had installed technology to distort my voice since it was different enough someone might recognize me while I'm not being the vigilante/mercenary Gore, as well as some other added bonuses- like head straps that would activate if my bone manipulation was at a point I couldn't keep the mask melded to my face. But even with this additional protection to keep the skull affixed to my face, I kept my distance as much as I could that I might have a chance to lessen the horrid migraine I got near symbiotes within a 6-foot radius or get my abilities back, so I had some sort of chance of getting out without getting either snatched up by Carnage or bitten- and hopefully fucking not unmasked!

My harsh response only got a gleeful laugh from both the symbiote and Cletus the host in their Carnage form, it made me cringe under my canine skull mask. The completely white eyes of the symbiote narrow, the sun setting barely affects its vision as it solely was on me; its prey of almost 4 months now that it's never gotten to kill or taint in some way. The sun almost made the white eyes glisten like white opals, but that THING doesn't deserve such complements or kindness, especially when it was a psycho murderer and alien stalking bitch! Its eyes looked me over as if they were memorizing my every curve as it stood there silently with a sharp toothed grin, it made me self-aware of my outfit in a way that enraged me. It was only a goddamn black crop top, a cheap and worn-out purple hoodie that was now a dull purplish grey color after so many years of wearing it and putting it through a washer, and dark green cargo pants- and my usual accessories. Not like I was wearing something to gawk at!

My migraine only got worse as the seconds passed, as if my body was pleading for me to somehow figure out a fucking way out of this mess. The sun was still slowly setting behind us, the setting rays of light giving my body some warmth in this spine-chilling moment of being in my stalkers grasp. And that feeling of this being not a win for me... but for Carnage.

When I got no answer besides him licking his pearly whites that looked sharp as shit, and a low purr from definitely checking me out, I say a very stern and annoyed "What. Do. You. Want. From. ME. Carnage?" Carnage smirks and his eyes widened, he could probably hear how badly that migraine was hurting me currently and probably can see even as I stood my ground my limbs were slowly starting to tremble. I always had an unspoken rule that I'd never address Carnage as his name, or by his human name Cletus, because he never calls me my vigilante alias name, Gore. So, he was probably a bit smug when I finally said his villain alias name.

"Ohh Dove I thought you never say it! ~" He says in a mock giddy fashion, which was one of the most stupid responses he has given me, and Carnage has told me a lot of dumb responses over these 4 months. I scoff and cross my arms in defiance and roll my eyes, they almost glow from behind my canine skull mask and are imitated by the technology to look like two rings of light blue that it's close to white, it gives me an intimidation factor- besides the fact I could literally melt someone alive or snap their neck with just a thought.. with the exception of symbiotes, of course.   

He looked like he was ACTUALLY going to explain why he had been going after me for months, so I begrudgingly stayed silent to listen.

"Well..." He started dramatically, clasping his clawed hands together with a glint of mischief. "The reason WE'VE been chasing you for the past," he emphasized the 'we' part since I never really like to acknowledge the symbiote of Cletus even if they were sort of one body with two minds that were very bonded, I always addressed them in a singular sense.

He pretended to count his claws, even some tendrils for a second before continuing, "Pursuing you on this fine evening for 2 hours, 30 minutes, and 26 seconds... is because WE are veryyy interested in your abilities, you feisty lil thing~ we feel can help you reach your full potential by making you stronger and figure out why you tremble under all symbiotic presences... we find it very flattering you're already trembling, and we haven't even hit the 10-minute mark of this standstill!" Carnage purrs with a teasing grin, which makes me groan in annoyance and roll my eyes.

"How the fuck does my abilities even resemble your symbiote, you Crimson Fucker?! I don't have red tentacles flying out my ass! Nor do I have a full-on body suit of a symbiote!"

I growl in protest from behind the canine skull mask, my breath slowly getting more labored from the horrid migraine. Carnage cackles like I'm the best comedian he has ever seen or heard in New York, "You're such a funny little thing, Dove! ~" even the symbiote seems to laugh in this burst of what seemed to be laughter.

"But still! Think about it! You have VERY similar claws to us, so sharp and made to tear the flesh of our enemies apart like its air! The spider-like bone legs, albeit close to that Iron Spider fool's design, represent my tendrils but in a more solid and less slimy sense. AND your able to match us symbiotes in a battle in your strength even when weakened by a pesky migraine." Carnage ranted, his hands moving as he spoke flamboyantly like he was a commercial seller trying to get me to buy his shitty product, but before I could even react, he shot those knock off webs at me. I snarled in a yelp of pissed off annoyance and shock over something I really shouldn't be shocked by, and as I try to at least dodge the tendrils... It was too late, my migraine afflicted state wasted precious seconds of my time staggering to not fall of the One World Trade Center, getting me caught by my villainous stalker.

'By the gods I'm so weak, I won't last 5 minutes even staying conscious FUCKING HELL-'I think to myself.

I was internally screaming as the webs managed to get a grip onto my torso- the webs form into tendrils in a matter of seconds, and it wrapped around my arms and chest in a binding so tight no human even with super powered abilities could escape. Then with this makeshift webbing and tendril in Carnage's symbiote hand, he tightly grips it as I thrash to escape, yanking it like hair to his massive body. I whipped across the top of the One World Trade Center like a ragdoll and slammed into the symbiotic covered chest of Cletus, who was grinning smugly as it all just went like he and his symbiote had planned.

I was in the arms of my fucking stalker. Great. The webbing and tendrils come off me and retreat into the large Carnage form, my restraints now traded out with the arms of my captor. He holds me tightly to him with a smile on its slimy symbiotic face, purring and holding me like a child would hold a new toy. I squirmed violently, "LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC SON OF A BITCH- "I snarl as I glare at Carnage with rage from behind the canine skull mask that hid my identity.

"What the FUCK are you doing?! I thought we had a fucking silent agreement we were done fighting and chasing me around. And stop gripping me like it's the only thing keeping you SANE." I mumble, which gains a cocky grin from Carnage as he looks down at me from his 7'2 height, even though I only stood at around 5'9. "Oh, but you are the last thing keeping me sane, Mavis." Carnage chuckles darkly, I could feel the symbiote quivering in excitement. Mavis was a name that translated to songbird, which was basically another way of Carnage calling me Dove- which I absolutely despised him calling me.

It didn't take long before I stopped my futile struggle. my body was drained of its energy, like I got stepped on an elephant, it happened so quickly just by me getting pulled in such a tight embrace by a symbiote and its host. I thought I was going to pass out from how horrid the migraine was now; it was so bad I could feel my heart pounding in my head. I could feel my body slump to my dismay, it was no use to struggle- it would only make me pass out quicker which I didn't want. I glare at Carnage with my icy blue gaze, feeling weak like a newborn baby, which I hated so fucking much with a burning passion.

The symbiotes grip never waver, maybe even tightened slightly. 

And it began to slowly sway when it realized my strength was diminished to me just staying awake. I slammed my eyes shut and moved my face away as my canine skull mask's panic feature enacted; straps shifted and wrapped around the back of my head firmly. I tried to come up with a way to stop the extreme pain of the migraine that consumed my head and made my body shake, as well as think of a way to get out of this fucker's grasp.

"As we were saying..." Carnage purred violently, causing me to feel the vibrations all the way down my spine in my own personal shiver. They continued to sway as if we were slowly dancing in the dark, which was partially true since it was only slivers of light of the sun from the sunset. "Your abilities intrigue us! Oh, how they do... sometimes, just occasionally as I think about you every time were not near, I wish I could make you overcome this weakness of yours. So, when we have another one of these delightful run-ins on each other's day, which is TOTALLY not planned by the way," I knew that was bullshit and that it was 99.99% of the time planned. But he continues,

"We could have a better cat and mouse chase which is also rewarding, because when I catch you. I could PIN. YOU. DOWN! And while you struggle in vain, writhing under me which is so hot..." Carnage drawls,

"I could examine each bone structure of yours, ranging from your mask... your talons... those spider-like bone legs... that human spine tail... oh I bet it would be wonders to run my hands and claws against them... thinking about it makes so overwhelmed with joy! But if I, did it..."

Carnage trails off as he began to lightly caress and stroke the ribcage that was over my chest and a little bit of my stomach, tracing shapes and outlining the entirety of ALL 24 OF MY RIBS. I shuddered and held back a couple foolish noises, the bone ligaments that were connected to me through my bone manipulation were quite sensitive to touch.

So, I bit my lip. Carnage continues to speak while swaying slowly, my body dead weight in his firm grasp due to how incapacitating my migraine was for me currently. "It's honestly fascinating, the rib cage you use from one of your victims even if you have your own set... very fashionable my dear but we think it look even hotter if they were splattered in your enemy's blood."

I scoff at the comment from behind my canine skull mask, and even that my voice distorter could pick up and distort for me thankfully.  "Uhm, Hell no! Last I checked you are no fashion designer, and you have absolutely ZERO taste whatsoever.

And if you didn't know this already, asshole, blood is a nuisance to get off bones- it stains them, and I got to bleach those fuckers so their crisp white even from one little drop of blood on them. My alias as a vigilante is 'Gore' but I know where to draw the line in my line of work when it comes to bloodshed. I am NO villain, nor a goddamn hero, I'm the grey-zone! Vigilante, antihero, mercenary, whatever you wanna call it but I am not a fucking hero or villain! I only kill when I get paid, pursued, the heat of a fight, or when it's horrid scum that don't deserve to live anymore! So, NO, hell NO."

Carnage just laughs and shakes his head, holding me closer to him, one hand tracing lazy hearts against the ribcage on my upper body. "Oh, but yes! ~" Carnage coos playfully as he uses a tendril to lift the chin of my canine skull mask up to look at him directly.

I just glare at him with my icy blue eyes through the eyes of my canine skull I used as a mask, even though the eye space in the skull were covered by a black mechanical mesh that was see through from only my end and had an eye tracking system so the round white ovals could move with my eyes or narrow in a glare when I glared. I let out a low growl while Carnage smiled at me like the maniac he was, with such heavy intent that it made me shudder just barely, he knew I couldn't do much in his grasp and he clearly loved it.

"Oh Gore... Oh, my dear Gore..." I knew when he started to purr out my actual vigilante alias that I was in deep trouble, more than I already was. "Yes yes... You are that grey zone, morally ambiguous so you can do wrong things in the name of justice. Your title as the little mercenary that people can't rely on, or 'Gore the Vigilante' doesn't mean anything to me because.. Well... "

He pauses dramatically for suspense before continuing, "We are the same, you and me, no matter how much you deny it- the push and pull between us- the thrill of the chase... you know deep down that at the end of the day, you're going to have to choose like the rest of us have had to do at some point in our lives: be a villain or choose the hero lifestyle." I growl lowly at the mere prospect; I hated that thought of having to be fit into stereotypical boxes society deemed people to be in. but Carnage chuckles and keeps talking, clearly amuses by my reaction. "I know how both sides, the heroes and the villains, despise you for what you do- dread you even.

They don't like the fact you go against the grain, you're a black sheep among many blood-soaked woolly coats. But my beloved...~ I hear words from the other villains, including us, how they acknowledge your power and skills- your stubborn hotheadedness I've grown to know, and love isn't something heroes like. We know you're going to have to make a choice on what life you want to live. And from firsthand experience I know for sure that you were made to be a villain! Your ruthless, animalistic, quick and agile..." he pauses as Carnage leans down slightly, his hot breath against the side of my masked face sending chills down my spine as he coos mockingly.

"But that poor little migraine of yours is going to get in the way, isn't it? Dove? The one that's making you shake like a leaf right now, the thing that is in the way of your full potential. But I can help you, we can get rid of that pesky migraine- you just got to open up to me and trust me... and when you inevitably will, oh darling- OH my love! We can be the most feared in New York, the entire planet- hell even the entire UNIVERSE! The stupid Avengers wouldn't even be able to stop us, or SHIELD, or OPAC! Isn't that just so thrilling to think about? because we were meant to be. Gore and Carnage. See, even our names are similar! We'd make such a GOOD DUO my queen..."

Carnage rants in his double voice of Cletus and the symbiote he was the host to, the more he got into his words the more his grip lessened on me. Even his tendrils stopped touching me and his stupid swaying ended finally...

I saw my chance to escape, and I was going to use it.

I quickly elbowed Carnage into the chest, the sensation of touching the symbiote on Cletus's chest was like a painful ripple through my body due to the contact. I then shift myself to kick him in the shins before Carnage could catch his breath from me elbowing him hard in the chest, he stumbles back and with a rattling thump he falls on the rooftop of the One World Trade Center- his arms retracting from me from the sudden attack from me. I bolted to the other side of the rooftop, the last rays of sunlight over the cityscape casting an orange and red glow of warmth over me as I nosedive off the building. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I gasped for breath. There was only one thing on my mind: get the hell away from Carnage.

The only noise that filled my ears was the wind from me free falling off that tall skyscraper,

as well as the sound of Carnage screaming in anger and dismay, "NO!!!" I could also hear the sound of him scrambling to leap off the building as well. But, luckily for me, I had distance from him. I could almost hear him repeating like a mantra under his breath, "I won't let you die, your mine, I won't let you get out of my grasp-" Carnage pushes himself farther, trying to use the skyscraper to get to me quicker as well as use his tendrils to try and snag me but he kept missing, which makes Carnage snarl and screech in frustration.

But I fell faster and faster, even if I was smaller than the hunk of that 7'2 symbiote and host I had an advantage from how I curled my body up to make myself fall quicker. I was still in a slight adrenaline and dazed state from being so close to Carnage, I couldn't produce any of my bone ligaments, even keeping my canine skull mask melded to my face was a hassle. It was like my life was passing through my eyes, I was going to die, or I was going to be caught by my psycho symbiote. I could hear Carnage snarling even more as if he could see how I was preparing to just... fall to my death, let fate take its course, and how even in my last moments I wouldn't give in to him.

But then I felt a pulsating, a sort of buzzing from withing my pocket, and before I knew it,

I was sucked into a portal just before a red, black veined clawed hand could grab me. I was in shock, the whirring colors going around me, the sound of Carnage fading into the air behind me as I continued to fall in a swirling tunnel of colors and noises of so many things yet so little for my mind to process. I was still in a sort of daze but somehow Carnage managed to also fall through the same exact portal as me, that persistent piece of shit! He somehow landed a tendril around my ankle just barely, but I thrashed and snarled under my mask, the gravity of this wormhole like portal was throwing me off kilter. It worked somehow, and that sick fuck got thrown out of the spiral of colors into an offshoot right next to it, I could hear his screams of frustration- the only sense of victory I could get out of this whole damn day: his distress and my freedom to live another day.

But, suddenly the portal opened, and soon disappeared in the sky above me like it was nothing but dust in the wind. I looked around from where I was as I fell that I probably got some whiplash. it looked like New York- but... not really New York city how I knew it. The Avengers tower wasn't a sleek silver color with the A symbol being torn off and broken, it was blue and still seemed to be functioning.

And.. a Oscorp tower, what the hell is that!?-

Even the cars looked uncanny to me, it was unnerving and confusing, especially with my heart pounding in my head from a mixture of adrenaline and a massive migraine that was slowly fading since I wasn't near Carnage anymore which was like an instant relief to my exhausted body.

"Where the hell-"I muttered from behind my canine skull mask, the voice distortion technology faltering slightly before my eyes widen as I felt my body slam against something hard with a loud thunk of what sounded like some sort of metal bar. And all faded into a peaceful and migraine free darkness...

Here is a long ass character sheet

Give credit if you use it!

{OC template}

[By- ThanaTheCreator_]

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•Basic Information•

🔴Name-

🔴Age-

🔴Sexuality-

🔴Gender-

🔴Species-

🔴Nicknames-

🔴Reason for nicknames-

🔴From a Fandom?-

🔴Zodiac sign-

•Physical appearance and traits •

🟠Hair color-

🟠Hair type and length-

🟠Eye color-

🟠Skin tone-

🟠Face shape-

🟠Body type-

🟠Birthmarks-

🟠Scars-

🟠Predominant features-

🟠Height-

🟠Dominant hand-

🟠Hair Style-

🟠Jewelry/ Accessories-

🟠Are they healthy or not? Reason why-

🟠Allergies-

🟠Glasses?-

🟠What do they wear when they are home alone?-

🟠Tattoos-

•Mannerisms•

🟡Speech Style-

🟡Quirks-

🟡Positive traits-

🟡Negative traits-

🟡Drives/Motivation-

🟡Sense of Humor-

🟡Private or Public?-

🟡Leader or Follower?-

🟡Daredevil or cautious?-

🟡Optimistic/ Pessimistic/ realistic?-

🟡Speaker or Listener?-

🟡Accent-

🟡Voice Claims-

🟡Theme Song(s)-

🟡Temperament-

🟡Talents-

🟡Flaws-

🟡Loud or quiet?-

🟡messy or organized?-

🟡solo or team player?-

🟡introvert or extrovert?-

🟡relaxed or serious?-

🟡What will always make them cry?-

🟡Do they celebrate there birthday?-

🟡What will make them Smile?-

•Background•

🟢Hometown-

🟢Social Class-

🟢Education-

🟢First memory-

🟢Worst memory-

🟢Best memory-

🟢Most important childhood event,why?-

🟢Most influenced by-

🟢Role models-

🟢Where does the character live? And with who if they live with someone-

🟢Do they want to move and where?-

🟢Type of childhood-

🟢Upbringing-

🟢Best Qualification-

🟢Most important person in there life and why?-

🟢House environment-

🟢Childhood crush-

•Family•

🔵Mother-

🔵Father-

🔵Siblings-

🔵Relationship with family?-

🔵Any children? Do they want any?-

🔵Pets-

🔵Extended Family-

🔵Close to family?-

🔵Are they related to anyone in their ancestry that was cool/ important?-

•Favorites and Least Favorites•

🟣Favorite Movie-

🟣Least Favorite Movie-

🟣Favorite Book-

🟣Least Favorite Book-

🟣Favorite Holiday-

🟣Least Favorite Holiday-

🟣Favorite Mythological creature-

🟣Least Favorite Mythological creature-

•Abilities and Bias’•

⚪️Affiliation-

⚪️Powers-

⚪️Powers limitations-

⚪️Weaknesses-

⚪️Allies-

⚪️How well known are they?-

⚪️Costume-

⚪️Do they have a voice changer?-

⚪️Alias-

⚪️Weapons-

⚪️ Gadgets/ tech-

⚪️Physical Weaknesses-

⚪️Fears-

⚪️Motivations-

⚪️Why do they do what they do?-

⚪️Mental/Emotional weaknesses-

⚪️Rivals-

⚪️Romantic interest? Who if yes-

⚪️Do they have a known quote?-

•Miscellaneous•

⚫️If I could put them in a different universe or Fandom, which one?-

⚫️What was there first kiss like? Have they have it yet?-

⚫️Have they ever lost somebody they loved and who was it? How did it impact them?-

⚫️What would happen if they were granted 3 wishes?-

⚫️There stranded on in island with________ and they have 4 items,who and what do they bring?-

⚫️what quote do they feel portrays them?-

⚫️Most prizes possession and why is it prized?-

⚫️Have they ever stolen anything? We’re they caught? Do they feel guilty or prideful?-

⚫️What textures do they absolutely hate to feel?-

⚫️How long can they go without showering? When do they feel dirty?-

⚫️Where do they put there clothes when there dirty?-

⚫️Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed and why?-

⚫️If they woke up with animalistic features such as ears and a tail( that were different from the ones they already had if they had any at all)how would they react?-

⚫️if they could only eat one thing for 20 days, what would they eat?-

⚫️do they re read books they already have?-

⚫️if they had the option to know when they would die, exact date, would they want to know or would they want to stay oblivious to it?-

⚫️What song would they listen to on repeat?-

⚫️Do they believe in a form of a afterlife?-

⚫️Do they crack there joints?-

⚫️Spicy, Savory, Sweet, Bitter, or Sour?-

⚫️Do they adopt stray animals?-

⚫️Do they procrastinate or do they get it done asap?-

⚫️What is the temperature when they shower?

⚫️Do they daydream?-

⚫️ do they work best in messy or clean environment?-

⚫️ do they keep personal photos? Why?-

⚫️Do they indulge in anything?-

⚫️ would they do the exact opposite that someone says to them just to spite them?-

⚫️ if they’re alone and they hear a noise would they go check it out or would they hide? Why?-

⚫️ if they’re lost what is the first thing they do?-

⚫️ what is a dream they had that was terrifying and made no sense too them?

⚫️ what is the stupidest thing they have ever done because someone said not to do it?-

⚫️ are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured?-

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Brief run down of an important moment for the character, can be anything-

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Short run down of there storyline-

[lillaydee]

Matchmade

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

---

Joel couldn’t sleep. For the life of him he couldn’t sleep. His mind kept replaying the look on his wife’s face as she left the room last week. Well, his ex-wife now. She hated him, after everything she had done to him, she hated him. Him, and everything that had to do with him, including Sarah. He couldn’t fathom it. What did Sarah do wrong? Where did everything go wrong? More to the point, when did everything go wrong?

Was it when they broke up the first time, because he had to take whatever job he could get to make sure his brother could go to college since his family couldn’t afford to send both of them? Was it when they broke up the second time, because he couldn’t give her all his attention since he had gone back to school for his own degree once he was a bit more stable? Was it the third time, when he had just started his own company, and got too busy trying to expand it, leaving him with hardly enough time to entertain her?

She stayed when they got together again, once his company had expanded. He was making good money, was successful enough to delegate to Tommy, who had graduated himself, and could afford to get them a nice house to live in, with plenty to spare to help his parents live a better life after working multiple jobs trying to feed him and his brother all their married lives. Sarah was a planned baby. Liz had insisted they try to get pregnant. When she gave birth to Sarah, who, to Joel’s eyes, was the most perfect little girl he had ever seen, Joel was over the moon. But Liz never connected with Sarah, despite quitting her nursing job at her own insistence to be a stay-at-home mom.

She demanded a full-time housekeeper, supposedly so she could give Sarah her full attention. The housekeeper, Mrs Adler, quickly became the nanny too, since she needed time for herself, for her mental health, every day. All day, every day. Her days were filled with mani-pedis, hair appointments, massages, yoga, shopping; coming home barking at Mrs Adler to order in for dinner. Joel honestly couldn’t recall the last time he had a home-cooked meal that wasn’t had at his parent’s. Sarah was never in her arms, never in her thoughts, but when she found out Sarah had started calling Mrs Adler Mama, she fired her on the spot, sending Sarah to his parents, supposedly to let her connect with her roots. Joel was out of town on for business, and Liz had left Sarah at his parents for three whole days without notice, calls and texts unanswered.

His accountant warned him of her spending. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent daily without a single care in the world. Joel put a limit on her credit card, causing her to go berserk on him. He’s worth millions. What did it matter? She berated him for his frugality. Still driving a simple pickup truck when he could afford Ferraris, still living in a simple three bedroomed bungalow with a small pool and pool house instead of a mansion, still buying off-the-rack when he could afford tailor-made. Heck, his subordinates wore suits more expensive than his, a fact that always humiliated her at company events. When was he going to give up the stupid flannels?

Sure, Joel could afford all that. He worked hard every single day to make sure Sarah had everything she needed. He and Tommy grew up with nothing. He didn’t want that for her. He spared no expense when it came to Sarah, but at the same time, he didn’t want her to grow up spoiled.

His parents, brother, sister-in-law, the company lawyer, Maria, and his right-hand woman, Tess had always been aware of Liz’s pattern. She always came back to him after breaking up with him, but every time, it was because he had made significant financial advances. She would dump whoever she had left him for, and came back to him, spent his money, before dumping him again for someone with more money than him, always with the excuse that he wasn’t paying enough attention to her, when all he was doing was working his ass off to provide for her.

But when he really became successful, she stayed long enough to enjoy his money, so much so that they persuaded him to make her sign an iron-clad prenup when he proposed to her. She took offense, of course, but for once, Joel didn’t back down. Sign the prenup, or the wedding and the relationship were off. She signed it without reading it first, to prove to him that she was not with him for the money.

Personally, Joel was relieved when she did, thinking that his family was wrong, but he couldn’t blame them. They were looking out for him. He thought of tearing the prenup, but Tess and Maria persuaded him not to. Just to be safe. He thanked God he listened to them.

Joel had been patient through all her antics and demands, but when she fired Mrs Adler and left Sarah at his parent’s, he hit his limit. He came back early from his business trip to confront her, only to hear moaning from the bedroom. He couldn’t believe how calm he was when he heard them. He made his way to the bedroom, his phone out, recording everything, and found her in bed with an older guy, one of the married men that she was seeing while they were broken up.

She didn’t even react badly, just got off the man, who apologized profusely and ran out with his clothes in his hands, and arrogantly told him she wanted a divorce, and he’d better be prepared, because she was going to take him to the cleaners. She cheated because of emotional neglect, she claimed. She was lonely. He was always working – which was bullshit. He had been home every day at 5.30 without fail, save for a total of 34 days since Sarah was born. 34 days in three years.

She packed a bag and left, only to scream profanities at him when she discovered that the prenup had stated that she gets nothing in the event of infidelity. Joel had taken pity on her and deposited some money in her account, which had a substantial amount in it to begin with. She was, after all, Sarah’s mother, and the woman he used to love.

But after the signing of the divorce papers, she handed him a separate document. One where she signed away her parental rights to Sarah, not interested in the least to see her, parent her, love her.

That was what got Joel. Not her cheating, not her betrayal, not that she hated him. It was the fact that she didn’t want Sarah. An innocent little girl.

Joel spent the last week with Sarah, who, sadly, never even asked him for her mother. Such was her neglect to Sarah; the little girl didn’t even notice she was gone. She did, however, ask about her Nana and Papa, so Joel took her to their house, and decided to stay there for a bit, getting his mind straight.

Truthfully, he felt dumb. So stupid that he kept taking her back in over and over. He had never been a player, and Liz was his first serious girlfriend. He was in love with her. She was indeed a sweet young lady back in the day. When she started training to be a nurse, she started going out with her friends more, whereas he was often out at sea, working for days to weeks at a time. It was then that she met the upper class and began to see Joel as one of the lowers, a mere coolie who spent his time living on a smelly boat and touched fish for a living.

Joel remembered the early days of working as a deep-sea fisherman. He was scared at first, of course he was. But over time, he found the work fulfilling. Enough to take him out of his mind. The job was dangerous, requiring his maximum concentration, so he found that working helped him get through his heartbreak every time Liz dumped him, working himself to the bones to get her out of his mind. And yet, every time she came back, he took her in, blinded by the romantic notion of a happily ever after with her.

These days, he no longer goes out to sea as much, only doing so when absolutely needed to, and as a way to connect to his staff. He owned the company now; he had people to do the job for him. But today, he found that he needed to do this, to get his head down, and just work. It was supposed to be a short trip, just a few days, in the area, albeit way out at sea. The weather was supposed to be exceptionally fine. It was a newer boat. His parents had agreed to watch Sarah. So he kissed her goodbye and went off to sea.

Which brought him to where he was now. One week after his divorce, the ring line still on his finger, laid out in his cot, the boat swaying in the gentle sea, unable to sleep, wondering how his life had gotten to this point.

Somehow, he fell asleep, thoughts of Sarah and his future of raising her as a single father in his mind.

---

Joel woke up, his head throbbing. The sun was beating down on his wet body unforgivingly. His skin felt raw. His mouth dry, but his body wet. So wet. Uncomfortably so. His clothes were sticking to his body, he could feel water lapping on his feet. He was lying on his back, confused as to where he was. He was in his cot, where was he right now?

He was having trouble breathing, something was lodged in his mouth. He put his fingers in his mouth and felt something in it, he pulled. And immediately retched. A piece of seaweed came out, along with sea water and God knows what else. There was sand everywhere. On his person, in his nose, his mouth, his ears, underneath his clothes.

And all over.

He stood up with much difficulty and surveyed his surroundings. He was barefooted, on a beach. His sweatpants weighing heavily on his hips, plastered onto his legs. He tried to yell but instead, retched again. More seaweed came out, along with sand and seawater.

A searing pain came over him. A piece of wood was sticking out of his belly, and mindlessly, he pulled it out. Blood immediately came pouring out. He panicked. He took his shirt off and began tearing it into strips, plugging the wound, screaming from pain, leading to another retching episode, knocking him down to his knees. He laid back again, breathing heavily, the pain consuming his entire being. He bunched up some of the torn strips and plugged the wound again, almost passing out from the pain, before tying the plug in place with more strips. He laid there a while longer, eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain, before crawling his way to the shades from the trees a little way above shore, passing out again as soon as the sun was out of his face.

He woke up a few hours later, the sun lower now, no longer blazing hot as it was. The pain in his stomach was still there, but he had to move. He needed to know where he was and what happened. He got up, taking his time, the pain burning hot in his stomach with every single move he made.

Once he was as upright as he could get, he began to look around. At one glance, he could tell. He was on a small island, trees growing sparsely all over. Small enough that he could see its entirety from where he was standing.

Fuck.

What happened? How did he get here?

Sarah.

Shit. What had he done? He needed to get home to her.

How long had he been out? How long since he was on the boat?

The boat. Fuck, he could not get his thoughts clear.

His watch had stopped working.

He didn’t have anything on him. He was sleeping.

Fuck.

He followed the waterline, mindlessly picking up the odd bottles and pieces of clothing that seemed to have washed up along with him.

Think, Joel, think. You need to think.

He could not. He didn’t have any energy left. He went back under the trees, dropping the bottles and shirts he had found, and laid back down, the pain in his stomach taking over. His skin was on fire. It was peeling from sunburn. He was parched. He couldn’t hang on any longer. He fell back asleep.

---

“Hey, old man! Wake up!”

Joel must be dreaming.

“Wake up old man!”

He groaned.

“Hey! Wake up!”

His face was wet. It was dark. Joel opened his eyes, a blurry shape forming, someone was hovering above him. A girl. Ponytail.

“Get up!” she was screaming at him.

He lifted his head slightly.

“It’s raining. You should drink. You’re going to dehydrate.”

She watched him sit up. He cupped his hand immediately, collecting rainwater, drinking as much of it as he could, his thirst getting the better of him. He drank long and hard. The girl sat next to him, watching him drink his fill. She pointed to the bottles he collected when he stopped.

“You should fill those up. Who knows when it’ll rain again.”

Joel didn’t question it. He took the bottles and aimed them at a particularly heavy stream of water coming down from the leaves on the trees, washed the bottles as best as he could and filled them. He planted the bottles next to him and turned his attention to the little girl. She pointed to his wound next.

“Might want to clean that.”

He acted in pilot mode. He just did what she told him to do, untying the strip he had used, and using his remaining shirt to clean the wound as well as he could, before plugging and securing the wound back.

“Drink some more. You need it.”

And he did. He drank, and drank, and drank, until he could drink no more, and fell back asleep.

Joel did not realize in the darkness that the girl remained dry, while he was soaked to the bones in the rain.

---

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was shining high in the sky. His body was hot all over. He might have a fever. The little girl was still there. She looked to be a young teenager. Friendly little face.

“Hello, congratulations, you’re still alive.”

She watched him sit up and asked him to drink some more water.

“Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?”

“I went around the island yesterday. I didn’t see anyone. Where did you come from?”

“You sure you didn’t see me? Cause I saw you.”

Joel thought about it for a moment. He was delirious. In pain. Panicked. Maybe she was right. But what the hell was a girl like her doing on this island, alone? Maybe she came from the surrounding islands? If so, he could go with her when she left, in whatever way she got here.

She pointed at a bright red shirt he had picked up yesterday.

“You need to tie that to a stick. Use it as a flag.”

Again, Joel just did what she said.

“Are you from the surrounding islands? How did you get here?”

“You need to stick that where people can see it. At the beach. Come on, I’ll show you where.”

She got up and started walking. Joel scrambled to his feet; his face contorted in pain.

“A little help, here?”

“Nope.”

“I’m in pain here, why can’t you do it for me?”

“I’m not your task monkey old man. Get up. Toughen up, it’s just a stab wound. Not like you were clubbed in the head or anything.”

She waited for him to get to where she was.

“What’s your name?”

“Joel. What’s yours?”

“Allison, but people call me Allie, with an A. I hate that though; I wish it was spelt with an E.”

“What’s the difference?”

“My teacher likes to call people alphabetically, by their first name. I always get called first, and sometimes you need a minute you know? To answer? Or make up an answer?”

Joel was perplexed by this girl. Talking about school and names, but what the hell was she doing here?

“Stick that here.”

She pointed to a spot on a beach that had less tree lines behind it.

Joel did just that.

“I saw a packet of something over there. You should get it. Maybe its food.”

The pain in his stomach was really bothering him now, and he was really out of breath just from sticking the makeshift flag into the ground.

“Can you please get it for us? I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“Oh, come on you big baby. ‘Tis but a scratch! Come on old man!”

Joel followed, his sight almost whitening from the pain, but persevered. They got to the spot she mentioned, and sure enough, there was a packet of crackers washed up. She asked him to pick it up. Go on, old man.

He did so, with much difficulty, before following her back to his sleeping spot. She made him tie another shirt, the yellow one this time, to another stick. She made him drink more water, before asking him to eat some of the crackers.

He offered her some of both, but she declined. She’ll be alright, she said. He needed the energy. He’s the injured one. He kept asking her where she came from, and she kept deflecting. He ate maybe two of the crackers, and a few sips of water, wanting to save the rest, in case he got stranded longer, but she made him eat and drink more.

By the end of the five crackers and the few extra sips of water she made him consume, his eyes were heavy again. She watched him fall back on his back, wincing as he did so, and told him to rest.

“I’ll keep watch, old man, don’t you worry. I’ve got ya.”

And Joel fell back into a deep, deep sleep.

Allie watched him sleep, his eyebrows scrunched together, probably from the pain and his worries. She could see him. Really see him. The man that he was, the man that he could be. He’s perfect for what she had in mind.

---

“Joel! Joel! Wake up!”

Joel stirred.

“Wake up Joel! There’s a boat!”

Joel opened his eyes.

“There’s a boat. You need to go to the red shirt and wave the yellow shirt. Get up. Now! Now! Hurry!”

Joel got up as fast as he could, screaming in pain. He tried to grab Allie’s hand for help, but she moved away, towards the red shirt. He followed her as fast as he could, clutching the yellow shirt in his hand. She pointed to the sea, a boat clearly in the distance. She yelled at him to wave the yellow shirt, while it was still light.

So he did, as rigorously as he could. He screamed at the top of his lungs for help, certain that no one could hear him over the sounds of the waves, but he screamed, nonetheless. Allie was cheering him on, telling him to keep waving, keep screaming. Go on, old man, don’t give up! Wave! Scream!

His wound was killing him, he could feel it bleeding heavier and heavier as he waved the stick around, but it was working. The boat flashed its headlights at him, speeding towards the island.

Just as the boat was about to reach the shore, Joel collapsed, all his energy drained from his person, spent.

He laid there in the sand, as he heard men screaming his name.

His brother Tommy got to him first, a few men with him. They lifted him up and brought him to the boat. Someone placed a blanket over him, and gave him some water, which he drank thirstily.

Someone restarted the engine of the boat. Joel sat up suddenly and looked around. The man who was tending to his stomach pressed down, trying hard to stop the bleeding.

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Allison, Allie. The little girl who was with me.”

They gave him blank looks.

“There was a little girl on the island with me. You’ve got to go get her Tommy. We can’t leave her here. She’s just a little girl.”

They cut the engine of the boat. Tommy jumped down, along with another man, they ran to shore and looked around. The island was small and rather sparse. They could see the entire island from one spot. They ran around calling for Allison.

The man on the boat screamed at Tommy to come back. Joel was fading, his pulse weakening.

Tommy and the man came back, the engine was restarted.

“No, we have to bring her back.”

“Joel, there is no one here.”

“She was right there with me when I collapsed.”

Tommy stared at his brother, worry on his face.

“Joel, I saw you. We all saw you. You were alone. No one was with you.”

---

Part 2

[burningembers91]

Outside Looking In - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Nam-Gyu has always been an outsider, watching as everyone passes him by. He spends his days trying to make a name for himself, and trying to show the beautiful hostess with a broken heart that he'd love her until the end of time, if only she would let him.

A/N: Based off of this ask. I wanted to say a HUGE thank you the anon who asked that I write for Nam-Gyu. I didn't really like his character in Squid Game, but I am SO happy with how this turned out. I wasn't planning on writing this so quickly, but the ask gave me such a good idea, I couldn't resist. Thank you, Anon. I hope you enjoy!

Park Nam-Gyu had spent his entire life desperately waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be noticed by his parents, his siblings, his class mates, employers, and women. But no matter how hard he tried he always just seemed to be on the edge of everyone’s periphery. He tried to be bolder, louder, a little more cocky; he’d met so many people like that who commanded attention, so he couldn’t understand why it didn’t work for him.

He'd taken a job as a Club Promoter to meet girls, but also on the hope that people would want to hang out with him, even if was just for discounted or free bar entry. He would spend all week advertising clubs and bars on Instagram, promising his old classmates he would be able to get them tickets for the hottest places in town, even the ones that were exclusively guest list only. It had worked for a while, and Nam-Gyu found himself basking in the popularity he’d always craved. But people were fickle, and once they got what they wanted, they soon left. There were hundreds of club promoters in the city, and most of them had better connections that he did. He never gave up though, spending each weekend following the crowds of drinkers that flooded through Seoul. He never quite managed to attract enough attention though, left to stand on the pavement clutching his leaflets as everyone passed him by.

Nam-Gyu knew he should throw the towel in. He didn’t make any money as a club promoter, still living in the tiny box room at his mum and dad’s house. He should really focus on a proper job, something in insurance or accounting; but then he really would be a nobody. Just another faceless ghost in a suit, robotically moving through life. He knew he was destined for greater things, if only he could just be noticed.

You were the other reason he didn’t want to quit the job that made him no money. You, the beautiful hostess, whose job it was to entertain the richer clientele who frequented the bars he promoted. Night after night you would bend to every will and demand of drunk men, smiling politely as they groped you, called you hideous names and tried to force themselves on you. You were tired of this life, tired of being nothing more than a pretty girl in a tight dress and pair of heels whose name no one bothered to learn. Except for Nam-Gyu; he knew your name; he saw the sadness harboured in your eyes. He watched as you stood in all kinds of weather, smiling and greeting people through gritted teeth. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was so madly, so deeply in love with you. He could try and bullshit the drinkers with his false bravado, but he could never fool you. “What are you doing after work?” he asked you one night as you stood shivering on the pavement, savouring the last fewminutes of your break. “I’m going home,” you sighed, “I finish at 3am.” “Maybe I could walk you home,” he offered, taking in the goosebumps that littered your delicate skin. You shouldn’t be standing out here freezing. You should be inside, curled by a fire with someone who doted on you, cared for you. Nam-Gyu wished he could be that person. “I’m getting a taxi,” you told him. “Thanks though.”

You’d noticed Nam-Gyu plenty of times. He’d been working as a club promoter for as long as you’d been working as a hostess. He’d always seemed sweet, but he tried so hard to impress people who didn’t deserve his attention. He always looked out for you, keeping you company on quieter nights, buying you dinner if your tips didn’t cover your meal. You doubted he made much money either, but he always made sure you didn’t go hungry. He made you laugh, and when it was just the two of you, he was so different to the brash, cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You wondered why he felt the need to act like someone he wasn’t.  You wished you had his never-ending enthusiasm, his ability to keep a smile plastered to his face no matter what. People spoke to him like shit, and yet he never let it phase him. You on the other hand, you were finding it harder and harder to deal with the men who grabbed at you and treated you like a life-size Barbie doll, simply there for their amusement. Your dream was to become a florist, to open your own shop. But dreams required money, and you spent all yours just trying to get by each month. You knew how much Nam-Gyu cared for you, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wasting his time. You were damaged goods, too broken to ever love again.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting outside for when he saw you. It was raining, a constant drizzle that soaked through his shirt and jeans, plastering his hair to his cheeks. He’d tried to gain entry to the very bar he’d been promoting, but the bouncer wouldn’t admit him. “We’re full,” he was told, despite the constant stream of patrons entering. He didn’t want to go home though, didn’t want to face his parents to whom he was a constant source of disappointment. So, he sat in the rain, waiting for you to show up on your break. This time however, you weren’t alone. There was a man with you, his hands round your waist. You were pushing him away, but he’d just grab you again, clearly unfazed or unaware that you weren’t interested in his advances. “Please stop,” you snapped, pulling your arm away as he tried to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Seriously, fuck off!” “Hey!” Nam-Gyu stood up, marching over to where you stood, his fists balled. “Leave her alone! She said she’s not interested.” He couldn’t make out the man’s response; the guy was too drunk to form words coherently, but apparently not to drunk to harass you. “It’s fine, honestly,” you told him, “I’m used to it. My manager has called him a cab, he’ll be gone soon.” But your eyes were so sad, your mouth trembling as you held back tears. Nam-Gyu wished he could take the sadness away from you, wished he could see a smile light up your face.

He waited for you until the bar closed, just in case anyone else tried to take advantage of you. “Why are you still here?” you sighed, pitying the rain-soaked man who never gave up on you. “I wanted to make sure you got home ok,” he told you, trying to hide the shivers that wracked his body. “I’m fine, honestly.” You started walking, your tips not enough to pay for a taxi, and Nam-Gyu followed. You wished you could open up and let him in; you wished you weren’t so broken. But a lifetime of toxic relationships had left you damaged. You were so used to being hurt that you didn’t think anyone could fix you, not even the sweet club promoter who stood waiting for you in the rain. You walked home in silence, enjoying his company but too scared to admit it to him. You stopped as you got the front of your apartment, turning to say goodnight to the man you desperately wished you could love back.

“I wouldn’t treat you like those men do,” Nam-Gyu whispered, “I’d make sure you never had to work in a place like that ever again. I’d hold you every night and tell you how lucky I was to have you.” “If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.” You smiled sadly, your hand gently clasping his cheek. He leaned into your touch, relishing the sensation against his freezing cold skin. You left him standing out there, watching you as you made your way up the stairs to your place.

He forced himself to turn and walk home, the rain never once ceasing. Nam-Gyu would probably always be a nobody, but to you, he was desperate to be a someone.

[maleyanderecafe]

The Yandere CEO (Visual Novel)

Created by: Phantom Tea

Genre: Romance

This game is pretty short and stops really fast, but older yanderes are always rare in these cases so I might as well write about it just in case. I do think that they could have maybe put in a bit more characterization for him, but for a short game, it's good as it is.

The story starts out with the MC working at a new job in the office and they're a bit scared given that his reputation is of a ruthless CEO. However, when the CEO, William, comes up to greet them, he reveals that he's very friendly. As the story goes on, the MC finds that William is constantly watching them too much, smiling too much and being way too attentive. One day he brings you to his office and talks about the plans for the marketing campaign. Although the MC wants to focus more on the work at hand, William insists that the best is to keep the MC by his side- to work together and to be together forever. He then tells the MC that he won't give them up for anyone else and that the two will be together forever.

Submitting to him will make him happy, confirming that there is no way for you to escape before he locks the office door. He decides to protect them forever and from everyone else. The MC is trapped inside of William's office indefinitely as he showers the MC with gifts and attention.

Trying to escape will have William slam them to the ground, and he chokes them until they pass out. Upon waking up, the MC finds themselves in the hospital, and it seems that William has escaped and disappeared. Despite this the MC still feels paranoid knowing that he's watching them and waiting to come back.

Trying to talk to him will simply lead him to denying their words, repeating his obsessions to them, seemingly trapping them in a more doll house like state.

So like I said, it's a very short game. It's kind of unfortunate we don't really get to know that much about William because he has a pretty nice design that's simple but knows where to draw the right people. The story itself is very point to point, getting to the gist very easily. The MC joins a company, is immediately chosen by William to be the lover (though whether or not this is the first time he's seen the MC has yet to be determined). Personally I think everything runs way too quickly for William to grow obsessed and the fact that he repeats a lot of lines that yanderes typically do (possessive likes like "You're mine and I won't let you leave") in succession is kind of, well, strange. But again, I don't think I can really complain that much. The fact that William was somehow able to lock the MC in his office for months without anyone noticing is WILD though- does nobody come to talk to him in his office because he's the CEO? Does the janitor not find the MC? It's not really a huge deal but I did think it was kind of funny.

Anyways, very short game, but the artstyle is nice. I don't know if there's too much to say about it at the moment, but I do hope that the creator will be able to make more yandere games, either about William or about another yandere character.

[askhezureviews]

no spoilers/specifics but when you get to Ghostfuckers it becomes so obvious Brandon is doing the writing again

it's the closest helluva has gotten to its season 1 self in all of s2, and it's still not fantastic, if I'm being honest

there's only so much he can do to right the ship

ep11&12 ping right back into Goetia melodrama, because of course

OKKKKkkkk finally sat down and watched this episode!

Hey! Look, it's like, their first actual job in forever!!! They're actually going to the human world again, great!

I'm very relieved Brandon was brought in to rewrite this. I know some Viv fans were upset about the leaks, but I think it was actually a good thing these leaked and sparked enough outrage for Viv to cave in and change it because Millie unaliving herself for being a bad wife is completely inappropriate. I'd personally feel ashamed and embarrassed if I had wrote that. She claimed they had plans for Millie, that she will get her episode in season 2, but she didn't. Even with Brandon's assistance here, she really didn't. I'd say those leaks are proof she lied to her audience, however... at this point, Vivziepop is merely not self aware of her writing and doesn't comprehend the stereotyping she does to her own characters and their stories. So I don't think she lied, she's unable to comprehend that she isn't delivering on what she claims she will.

The episode establishes: -Blitz's business is now bankrupt. He has not paid his employees in over a month. -Wally Wackford knows IMP and hangs out with them?? / wants to hang out with them?? -Ghosts aren't real in Helluva / Hazbin universe -There's infestor demons that eat off angst I guess? First time we're ever seeing one

Seems like a good portion of this episode is a scooby doo reference. The montage scene was unnecessary, you could have cut it for time / budget.

~~~

Regarding Millie: She claims the most screen time, but this episode actually isn't about her. The main focus is on Blitz. It's Blitz's trauma, Blitz's pain, Blitz's melodrama, and she just happens to be on screen dealing with it. We get a small pinch of something, but I'll talk about it after this analysis:

Millie asks Loona to take care of Moxie for her. These two still haven't passed the bechdel test yet. The only thing I recall them talking about outside of the men in their life is when Loona takes a jab at Millie's age in season 1, which also isn't ideal.

Millie claims she "always has fun with Blitz" and that he is her "best friend" which is news to the audience. This is the first time they've ever hung out in an episode. "I've never had a real friend that I didn't wanna f*ck." But you DO want to f*ck her. Earlier in the episode, he had Millie punch a card he's used frequently. Unwavering loyalty in exchange for leaving Moxie and Millie alone on 1 date. In a single episode he seems to have changed his mind quite suddenly and I'm unsure why.

Millie's backstory is chalked up to "She left the farm to become a hitman in Wrath. The market for assassin's is actually inflated in Wrath, it's high competition, so she was in between jobs. Blitz finds her after she stole their kill, and offers to pay her double. She accepts (Even though he went back on this, he does not pay her double. In fact, she barely gets enough to survive between both her and Moxie.)" She's hired by IMP to do various assassin jobs, and then Blitz decides to move to a different ring and use humans as their new clientele. This is an extremely smart move for his business, because there's quite literally zero competition for this. Millie for some reason thinks she "won't fit in"(??? you don't need to?) because imps are only good for their muscle" This doesn't make sense for Millie to say here. If anything she should have been more insecure staying in Wrath BECAUSE she would be actively compared to the higher competition of her birthplace. Here, they've hit a gold mine.

"Blitz, you made me realize I could be anything! Not just a simple farm girl or underpaid goon." But you are. Millie IS a simple farm girl and underpaid goon. Assassins are extremely common jobs for imps in wrath. She has not subverted people's expectations nor does she have a unique job to that of an imp.

"My mom said sweat, blood, and hard work washes the tears right off!" - Okay now THIS is the first piece of Millie development we have received in perhaps ever!! This implies that Millie's mother/family were emotionally unavailable to her as a child. That whenever she was upset/miserable, she was taught to bury her sadness with work. Which indicates she's a workaholic who probably needs therapy / has trouble expressing emotions properly. This would be a direct cause/effect action that shaped her into who she is today. This is an actual real Millie moment, and it comes from a passing comment. I don't think the writers caught on to what they did here, but THIS is good Millie development! THIS is a genuine character trait that is all hers!

~~~

Some stuff that did get a genuine chuckle out of me:

"I should have been a theater critic, I have objectively correct opinions!"- Moxie , It's also nice to see Moxie attempting to be the brains of the operation again, trying to solve their financial crisis, even if there's no way to save it.

"Your husband is still a little fuckable." - That actually made me laugh too despite the context being a little confused

Anyhow, overall the episode felt like it could have been 15 min long. They should have shortened it. We didn't really get much Millie backstory or character development. Instead of being insecure about her womanhood due to stereotypes(bad wife), she's now insecure about her race/species due to stereotypes (inbred brute). It's still not the best, but it's better than the leaked storyboard. Otherwise the entire episode was basically Blitz wanting to fuck a ghost. Also Blitz's trauma... again. Felt like filler you could frankly delete.