#they would be each other’s worst enemies. and each other’s greatest allies

[milktea-grn]

i think if you put these two in a room together and came back ten minutes later you would find it fully burnt to the ground

[lastlifesmp]

Scott talking about on a recent stream how he wants Impulse to win but doesn't think their team is in a good position for it really made me think about what in the past has made a team "in a good position to win", and it seems to come down to the smaller the team, the more likely a winner is to come from there.

Large teams usually get ripped apart first and you can see examples of this in pretty much every season. Third life both Dogwarts and the Crastle had the most amount of players in their alliances, they both fell apart with members dying and betrayal happening all over the place. On the other hand Grian and Scar, while they made allies with other people, were very solidly their own team for most of the season and were able to stick together quite well, giving Grian the win.

(Comments on other seasons under a read more cause it got a bit long lmao)

Same thing in Last Life, the Southlanders, team BEST, and even the fairy fort all basically ripped each other to shreds, while Scott, Pearl and later Cleo formed a very tight knit group and didn't have any forms of betrayal among them. (Slight outlier here for Joel and Scar I guess with their small/no teams but circumstances conspired against them lmao) But with Scott taking that win it starts to form a pattern of smaller teams seemingly make it easier to win.

In Double life there wasn't really any large teams (besides like full red or yellow temporary alliances) as everyone was split into duos, but there is still an argument that Pearl was on a very small team (as in just her and Tilly), and was able to get the win while those who stuck with their duos died.

Again in Limited Life, the larger alliances like team TIES and the Family who were much more closely knit but still had to worry about betrayal (cough cough Etho and Bdubs) and the Bad Boys, who's greatest enemies were admittedly themselves but they fell apart too, while the two duo groups, Pearl+BigB and Scott+Maryn were very tightly knit with each other. There was no question of betrayal or of the teams falling apart, with Martyn going on to win.

In Secret life Scar was the only player to not team with anyone else, and he wins the season. The big dogs and Gem and the Scotts both had issues with inter team fighting and while the Mounders were pretty close, almost all of them died very quickly once the fighting started.

And now in Wild Life, we have the smallest team, Gem and Joel, pretty much being in the best position with lives while the biggest team the Final Gs, in the worst one. Now obviously some of this is just due to differing skill and luck in the games, but the more people you have, the more difficult it is to manage a team. BigB and Pearl have already attempted to or passively betrayed the team at some point, Etho and Ren have both asked to join but have very conflicting loyalties. They're not all able to fully work together the way a duo team would be and it does show. (Not a dig on any of the players, this is just how people are lmao, there's a reason MCC only has 4 player teams, the more people there is, the harder it is to keep everyone together).

So currently, I do think Joel and Gem have the best chance of winning, even though I would love an Impulse win and the Three Gs all seem to be very on board with him getting it, they just have so many things going on it's hard to stay focused. More people means more changes for a teammate to die, and if the group can't reform around that, it's not going to go well.

[incognit0slut]

Dance with the devil

Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content—toys, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, and unprotected sex; words: 3.7k

a/n: fun fact, had this prompt for more than a month but I finished it in one day. Kind of rushed, so I don't know if it's any good, to be honest

MASTERLIST

“…you picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out…”

SPENCER WAS A GOOD BOY—she meant that in the most innocent, non-sexual way possible. Her boyfriend was the epitome of manners, a gentleman in every sense of the word. He was kind and considerate, and even when he might not be in the greatest mood, he still had a way of being thoughtful and respectful to his peers.

Yet beneath his angelic, good-boy behavior, she was certain there was a part of him possessed by the devil.

Like now, for instance, there was nothing angelic about the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. It was a smile she had never seen before, a smile that seemed to hold a deeper meaning as if he had a certain agenda waiting to be carried out at the back of his head. His smile was so cunning that it was starting to unsettle her, and the more she stared at him, the more it looked eerie.

And the worst thing of it all, she was the reason he was acting this way. She was the reason why he abruptly stopped what he was about to say the moment he stepped into their shared bedroom. She was the reason why he was now standing by the door looking like he was about to commit something sinister.

Because right under the dim light of the room, his eyes were trained between her legs.

So this was what it felt like being caught red-handed doing something no one was supposed to see. Y/n had always made sure nobody knew this side of her, especially not her long-term and committed boyfriend who knew nothing of what she often did when he was traveling for work. He didn't know what went on each time she was alone without him, what she had to do to keep herself satisfied when he wasn't around.

Sudden waves of nerves coursed through her body as she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It felt as if she was caught cheating. Well, if having a pink silicone vibrator nestled between her thighs was actually considered cheating. Maybe it was. Maybe not. But whatever it might be, the look on his face did not seem good.

"I-I can explain." She slowly sat up, her hand letting go of her precious toy while the other hand grabbed onto her shirt, fixing it slightly as it ruffled around her waist.

Her nervousness intensified as he slowly approached her. His steps were deliberate, and measured, but there was something disconcerting about the way he moved. A faint smile played upon his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he drew closer, and the sinister undertone of his expression became more clear. Her heart hammered in her chest, not knowing whether to interpret his smile as a friendly gesture or a warning sign. The room seemed to close in around them and the atmosphere grew thick with tension as he slowly climbed onto the bed, the bed sinking beneath his weight.

"Spence?"

He simply looked up at her but remained silent. His smile remained unchanged, a mask that concealed his true intentions. She desperately wished he would at least speak. She fidgeted uncomfortably, her nerves fraying at the edges as she waited for him to break the silence.

And then suddenly, and deliberately slow, she saw him picking up her vibrator which had laid forgotten by her feet. She could feel the warmth spreading along her cheeks as he examined it, turning it over his hand as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable as he finally broke the silence. She braced herself for his words, her pulse quickening, her nerves on edge. But what he said was far from what she had expected.

With an unsettling calmness, he uttered, "You know, I've always wondered what they looked like."

His unexpected words hung in the air. While she wasn't sure of his true intentions, it appeared that he wasn't expressing anger or displeasure, which was entirely different than how she had imagined him to react. "W-wait, you're not mad?"

"Because you use this? No," he admitted, still examining the long, pink device, intrigued by its shape as he studied the curved end. "But I am disappointed that you had to keep it a secret from me."

Her mind raced, searching for the right words to respond. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings." When he simply flashed a confused look, she explained, "Some men don't like it when their partner gets off using something else that isn't them."

"Let me guess. What you meant by some men, you meant your exes."

"A few of them, yes."

He smiled again. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not one of them then."

Her eyes glazed over him with uncertainty, her words coming out in a hesitant whisper. "So... you're not mad?"

His smile remained, though it seemed to shift subtly as he shook his head slowly. "No, not at all," he replied, his tone still calm and measured. "I'm more curious, actually."

Her brow furrowed in response. "Curious?"

"Mh-hmm." Then his eyes went back to the device, discovering a small button on the bottom. Curiosity got the better of him and he pressed it, his eyes widening slightly as it vibrated in his hand. He clicked on the upper button, his brows shooting upwards when the vibration intensified. "I didn't know it has a lot of settings."

Her cheeks burned with a deep flush. What was happening? Was he really finding her vibrator interesting? And when she thought things couldn't get worse, her stomach flipped when he turned it over again, the evidence of her arousal coating the end of her toy glistening under the light.

Dear god, couldn't the floor just open up and swallow her whole?

He then surprised her with his next words.

"Lay down for me."

His unexpected request took her completely off guard. Her eyes widened, her heart raced even faster, and her embarrassment transformed into sheer bewilderment.

"Lay down," he repeated, his voice sounding more firm and commanding.

His tone left her with little room for hesitation. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, and she slowly lowered herself to the bed, her apprehension mounting with each passing moment.

Above her, Spencer fumbled with the buttons again, figuring out the mechanics of what they do, and when he was done figuring out how the toy worked, he powered it on to the lowest setting and looked at her expectantly. The tension in the room intensified to an almost unbearable level as she watched him push her knees apart.

"W-What are you doing?" She gasped, the cold air hitting her exposed skin.

"Continuing where you left off."

Then suddenly, and without warning, he pressed the vibrator directly to her clit. Her eyes rolled back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high-pitched squeal escaped out of her slack-jawed mouth.

It was set to the lowest vibration option, but she had been playing with herself before this. And now with Spencer doing the work, pressing her toy right against her already wet folds, she was already squirming beneath him. The buzzing became higher in pitch as he went up one set, and the sensation became too much to handle.

"This is fun," he whispered. His thumb briefly brushed over her clit, causing her to gasp, and he breathed out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against her once more. The pleasure was starting to increase every time he moved the toy around her, rubbing it back and forth vertically in quick motions.

"You know what would be more fun?" He answered his own question by moving the toy above her clit, and with one swift motion, not one, but two of his fingers plunged into her. Her back arched at the double sensation, mouth hanging open as he curled his fingers inside her while the vibrator pressed against her clit.

Her legs shook violently to the simulation and Spencer saw the way her body trembled, noticing the sign of her climax coming in close. Seeing her thighs quiver set off a hunger in him, a desire for her to surrender completely to his command. He wanted to see her melt into nothingness. He wanted to see her lose herself in pleasure.

Grunting, he adjusted his fingers inside her, containing their thrusts as his other hand turned the vibration higher. The vibration heightened her senses. It was becoming harder to suppress her mewls as the pressure became more intense as she closed her eyes, throwing her head back, feeling the intensity grow.

She was so close he could feel her clenching around his fingers, and with a devious grin, he increased the vibrations once more. She cried out his name as the pressure kept building. Her mind was spinning. Her body was at its breaking point.

"I-I'm gonna—"

He turned off the toy and pulled his fingers out. Her eyes snapped open.

"Wha..." she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving frantically. "W-Why did you stop?"

He smiled at the sight before him. Her skin was sweltering against her shirt, sweat damped on her forehead and neck, her thighs were apart, and a vibrator stuck between her legs, sleek with her arousal. "We're just getting started."

And then he grabbed onto her last piece of clothing and helped her pull it over her head. Her taught nipples greeted him and his skin brushed against them, his wide hands softly squeezing her breasts as his thumb circled around the nub.

"So beautiful," he praised, his eyes traveling down her body, legs spread open for him to enjoy. Her sex was throbbing from his teasing, and it took him a lot of self-control not to bury himself deep inside her right at that moment. Instead, he leaned back and unbuttoned his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly slipped off his clothes.

His pants were next, then came off his briefs, and then there he was again, back in between her legs wearing nothing but a smirk on his lips as her eyes focused on his hard length resting against his thighs. He hummed in satisfaction at the look she was giving him, and because she looked so damn irresistible, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a slow, lazy kiss.

He tasted every inch of her, his tongue colliding against hers hungrily, getting lost in the sweet taste of her before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching between their parted lips. Her chest heaved as she watched him grab onto her vibrator again, and with that cunning smile curled at the corner of his lips, he placed the toy against her mouth.

"Suck," he commanded.

She looked at him hesitantly, but beneath his penetrating gaze, she slowly wrapped her lips around the pink silicone. Her tongue danced around it, tasting the initial burst of her own arousal. Her eyes looked up to him as her cheeks hollowed slightly with each gentle suck before he pulled it out of her mouth.

"Good girl," he grunted, sliding the toy down her body, leaving a wet trail along her skin. "Never knew you can take orders so well." His other hand then gently brushed her inner thighs. "Let's continue again, shall we?"

His fingers pressed against her sex before spreading her lips apart, leaning down to spit directly in between them. She felt his saliva make contact down her body, and her back arched just in time for him to push the toy into her, sliding it so effortlessly between her swollen lips.

It vibrated inside her as he clicked the button, the sensation traveling along her body as her fingers gripped onto the sheets. Spencer watched as she squirmed beneath him. He watched as the device disappeared inside her, her arousal pooling down her thighs, drenching the bed underneath them.

"You're making such a mess," he mused between his constant teasing, thrusting the vibrator into her. "Are you always this wet while using this?"

She shook her head helplessly. "N-No," her voice came out as a needy whine while his fingers slid around the toy, pulling her lips apart to get a better view.

"This is all for me then?" He pushed in deeper, satisfied with the way her body was reacting. "How did I get so lucky?"

The noises her body was making were so lewd. The way he was thrusting the toy inside her had her gasping for air, her head turning side to side against the pillow as the coil in her stomach tightened. Her eyes glanced between them, and the sight of her swollen sex being teased to the point she wondered if this was torture. The lines between pleasure and pain were starting blur.

"You're close again, aren't you?" She wasn't sure how she managed to respond to him, but she did, bobbing her head up and down. "Too bad I'm not going to let you."

He pulled out the vibrator from her and she whined at the sudden emptiness. "Please," she whispered, her voice almost a breath, a prayer, and a plea all in one. 

"Oh, you're begging now?" He gazed down at her, his eyes mirroring the hunger that had consumed her. "You are desperate." He watched as she bucked her hips against nothing, desperately searching for friction. "Be a good girl for me and hold it."

He then pressed the vibrator against her clit with its highest speed, circling over it ever so slightly, before sinking it back inside her almost roughly.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Baby, I-I can't."

"Hold it," he ordered. "Don't come until I give you my permission."

Her breath quickened as she tried to focus on controlling her body, but it was too much, too fucking much that she found her eyes watering from her restrain. He noticed the small teardrops had now welled up and spilled over, streaming over her cheeks. Her thick, delicate lashes stuck together as she tried to bat the tears away.

"You're crying now?" He muttered, fascinated at her reaction.

He shouldn't have felt good about this, it was such a disgusting thought to actually take pleasure in seeing the tears run down her face. But she was gorgeous when she cried, almost angelic. Her glassed irises and furrowed brows bring about an innocence to her that she didn't always show. It was hard to feel bad for when she looked this fucking pretty while she sobbed.

"Spencer, please," she pleaded, her voice sounding more like a strangle than a moan.

"Hold it. You're going to come when I tell you to come."

"N-No," she cried, her body convulsing as the pleasure took her body. There was nothing left to feel than the urge to embrace her long-awaited release. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh," he whispered, his other free hand wiping away the tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "Just a little longer."

"Spence, I-I don't think I can."

He also didn't think he could hold any longer. But he be damned if he didn't wait another few seconds when she looked so good writhing underneath him, gasping his name desperately like a prayer on her lips.

"Tell me what you need." When she didn't respond, too busy focusing on controlling her breath and the sensation building up in her stomach, he urged on, "Come on, beg for it."

A strangled whimper ripped through her body.

"Please, please," her words come out muffled as she trembled from the way he was pressing the toy deeper into her. It felt good, so fucking good, but she wanted to feel him. She needed to feel his skin against hers so badly. "I need you inside me, please."

He groaned and pulled the toy out of her before lining up his cock between her slit, gasping in pleasure when he slowly pushed himself into her. Her vision blurred until she couldn't distinguish her surroundings. His hand fell to her stomach, where he could, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of her internal organs. She felt extremely full as she endured the pressure of him inside her. 

"Fuck, baby," she breathed out. "Please."

He took no time to move, leaning forward and prompting himself with his arms on either side of her head. His hips began thrusting into her wildly, desperately, deranged in his need. Everything was all-consuming for her as her whole body burned from the way his cock slammed into her, each thrust filling her walls until she was nothing but a whining mess, begging for release.

Her whines seemed to push him further, praise falling from his lips as her hips trembled beneath his relentless pace. Her walls spasmed around him, clinging tightly to his shaft as the coil in her snapped. Then he moved forward and that particular move earned a yelp from her. He pushed forward with deep, powerful strokes, circling and angling down to hit that fleshy, soft patch buried too far for his fingers or her toy could reach. 

He gasped when he felt her walls clenching around him hard. She was panting, looking at him with desperate need and it was then he finally decided to give her what she had been begging for.

"Go on, come for me, sweet girl," he groaned as she devolved into incoherent sounds.

She finally came with a cry—loud, intense, and desperate. She came while her body shook, her legs trembling, and her lips hanging open in ecstasy as the sensation overwhelmed her over and over again. And when she thought she was done, he never slowed down his movements. Instead, he thrust faster into her, the wet sound of skin hitting against skin filling the room.

She wasn't capable of controlling herself anymore now, wanting to touch something but she was too weak from all the pleasure, so weak she could barely move her limbs, let alone make an intentional, concerted effort to grab onto a part of him.

So her mouth, hanging open in a heavy pant, was the next best option. She turned her head and leaned into his forearms, bracing him and holding him up above her. Giving him that leverage that let him thrust into her so deeply. And then her brain went blurry. Empty, save for the pleasure burning in her body and the humming of his name repeating over and over like a mantra.

She pressed her open mouth against his skin, breathing raggedly in some form of relief, her tongue gliding over his sweat-salted skin as she felt the muscle contract underneath. She dragged her lips side to side, drooling almost as he thrust deep into her. She groaned against his arm as her eyes rolled deep back into her head.

"You're still coming, aren't you?" Spencer asked above her, humor evident in his voice although she was beyond the point of comprehension.

But she managed to nod her head absently, lips mashing against his skin, and heard his laughter in her ears. "That's it. You're doing so well."

The sounds uncontrollably coming out of her were lewd and disgusting, mostly incoherent, but she didn't feel any shame anymore. All she cared about was the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. She was such a mess, she knew that. All sweat and tears, all desperate and eager. 

"You're so tight," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy as he began to feel the tightness in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

And then he leaned down and hovered above her, his lips brushing against hers but not quite kissing her. "Please," he mumbled against her open mouth, and she couldn't tell if he was begging for forgiveness or for permission.

Spencer couldn't think anymore. Nothing coherent, at least. His senses were drowning in everything that was her. Her scent, her skin, her breath. He then hit that spot inside her, so incredibly warm around him, and he clasped his eyes tightly as his pleasure faded into a glowing heat spreading inside her body. He grunted into her open mouth, giving her everything he could offer while she accepted everything she could take.

He finally collapsed on top of her as he breezed through his release, endorphins surging through his veins. Y/n pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes fluttered open, slightly pushing himself up to stare into her eyes.

"Was I too much?" He barely whispered.

"...no," she managed to gasp out, still trying to calm her pulse.

"Good."

Then he sat back up and moved his hips back before thrusting forward again. She looked at him in bewilderment as she watched him grab her toy, pressing it back between their still joint bodies.

She was dumbfounded. Stunned. Astonished. There were not enough synonyms in the dictionary to describe how flabbergasted she was now. And suddenly she thought of all the good traits he had, all the good words and praises people had always described him to be.

He's so smart and kind.

He's the most thoughtful person.

He can be such an angel.

She wanted to laugh. It was more likely that she was dancing with the devil now.

"What?" He whispered, that cunning smile of his creeping back on his face. "Did you think I was done?"

Her body started to squirm again. Spencer had always been a good boy—just not for tonight.

.

.

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[guess-that-ship]

S12 Round 1

See You on the Same Side of the War

cw: war

Both the ultimate warrior of their respective armies, Green and Silver did not cross paths until the tail end of the war, but instantly became personal enemies. Silver destroyed the only home Green knew while Green thwarted the most important mission of Silver's career. Silver's army was winning, but it'd only be with Green's head on his sword that Silver could redeem himself.

Yet fate had other plans in store, as Silver was forced to work alongside Green and his allies after a shocking betrayal. Realizing all he had worked for was a lie, he threw away most of his prejudices to finally do the right thing - but fierce tension remained between him and Green. Harrowing battle after harrowing battle, however, and the two were soon saving each other's lives. It was merely to avoid causalities, there was still a war to win, it was the right thing to do-

But to Silver, their time meant more than that. He returned from the final battle to his home - Green did not. Silver remained one of the few people, perhaps the only one, to have faith that Green would one day return; and until then, he'd ensure the peace they fought for would one day come, even as more and more conflicts sprouted. On the wall of his ancestral home, detailing his life story, is a mural of a green figure - his worst enemy turned greatest friend; he says he's most proud of that one.

Loser Besties

cw: possession

Characters A and B are the nerdy outcasts at their school. Most of their peers either bully them or ignore them. They mostly just rely on each other to get through each day. Character A is tired of this and wants to become more popular, while Character B is much more okay with it and insists that it will get better one day.

Character A then gets possessed by something that promises to help him become more popular, but actually ends up changing him so that he's no longer the same person. This includes cutting him off from Character B, under the guise of him being bad for his reputation. When he realizes that this thing is evil and dangerous for him, Character B is the first person that Character A thinks to call for help, but he's convinced that their friendship is so strained that he'd never help him.

But, actually, Character B has been extremely worried for Character A the whole time. He did a ton of research into the thing possessing him, and came to his aid, equipped with the one thing that can take it down. The two of them reconcile and defeat it together. They're ride-or-die once again by the end of the story.

[allastoredeer]

Name: Terms and Conditions Apply

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationship: Alastor/Vox

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar

Additional Tags: Post-Series, As in this is set AFTER the entire series would likely end, This is after they fight the big bad, Serious Injuries, Disabled Character, Hurt Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Injured Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Needs Therapy (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Needs a Hug (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Rape/Non-con Elements, Soul Contracts, Valentino is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino & Velvette & Vox Friendship (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel). Manipulation, Hypnotism, Aphrodisiacs, The Vees are each others greatest allies and each others worst enemies, Toxic Relationships, Fucked Up Relationships, Alastor/Valentino, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), World Building, Dark Fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Bottom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Summary:

It's been a full year since the Hazbin Hotel started its silly redemptive crusade and Pentagram City still couldn't give a flying fuck about it. That is, until after a catastrophic battle takes place on the hotel grounds that leaves the population wondering two things:

1) What exactly happened behind the force field that prevented them from witnessing the battle?

And

2) Why did the infamously anti-modern Radio Demon join the Vees a week later?

<><><><><>

My first dark fic for the Hazbin Hotel fandom. I enjoy reading dark fics as much as I enjoy writing them, and I love me some fucked up and toxic RadioStatic

If toxic and fucked up RadioStatic is your jam too, give it a looksie :3

I'm very excited to get into this fic. I've got a lot planned.

[vvatchword]

Reading BioShock: Rapture (Part 6: Frank Fontaine: Funny He-He Clown Man)

<- Part 5: Three Old Men Jerking Their Milk Sticks || Back to the Beginning || Part 7: Shadow Eve ->

By Chapter 2, Shirley finally introduces a few antagonists—Fontaine, as well as G-men doing the world’s worst surveillance.

If you’re hoping for tension,

stop.

hope is a lie and this book is its grave

I Would Like to Feel Anything Please

This chapter opens on Sullivan trying to shake a G-man and failing. Apparently it doesn’t matter because he goes ahead and meets with a character called Ruben Greavy, head engineer for the Wales brothers. I’m assuming that Greavy was originally the city designer before Wales & Wales had to be worked in.

I was most interested in the G-man because I keep looking for antagonists. Ryan has a goal, right? In literally any story anywhere, there would be obstacles the protag has to overcome. One might reasonably conclude that government institutions are Andrew Ryan’s greatest foes. They have the power to stop him through legislation and force: it doesn’t matter how much money you have if your enemy can mobilize the fucking Army.

Who else has the power to stop Ryan? Probably other industry tycoons. In Ayn Rand’s fiction, company presidents commonly ally with each other and the government to stymie the goals of her Ubermensch.

Although present, Fontaine is a small-time crook and motivated in other directions and is thus a non-issue.

As it turns out, I shouldn’t have been excited to see the G-men. After info-dumping a thousand things we either already know or could read in more interesting ways, Sullivan says this:

“Maybe they’ll get a warrant after all. I don’t think they’d find anything illegal.”

So you’re saying there’s no threat.

We are in Chapter 2, on page thirty-fucking-nine, and THERE ARE STILL NO STAKES.

But Preferably Not Indignation

At this point, it’s not about not knowing who Ryan’s enemies are. Functionally, I don’t think they exist. While Shirley invokes entire government institutions, like the FBI or IRS, they literally have nothing to do and no reason to be there.

Moreover, the Olympian—Ryan’s yacht—is namedropped. Which is when I realized that it was being used as a cargo ship.

Wait a fucking minute.

Look, I don’t know shit about boats, but can you really use a yacht like that? Like to ship big ol city parts? Why would you do that? I mean there’s a certain poetic quality in, say, stripping the guts out of your pleasure yacht to bend it to base labor, but we all know Shirley didn’t think that far.

(grumbles to self. angrily notates “research midcentury yacht models and cargo ships”)

Salty — Today at 10:22 AM No, yachts can’t be used like that watchword — Today at 10:23 AM "I found this out in 1 minute Shirley" thank you I figured the design mattered Salty — Today at 10:23 AM It does You’d need some kind of crane to lower things into the water and there’s no way a yacht could take that shit without being built not like a yacht

So it turns out that Andrew Ryan has sent his chief of security personally down to the docks to confirm the time it leaves like he’s some kind of little messenger drone. Somewhere in the proceeding info-dump, Sullivan tells Greavy to leave with all of the building supplies in his ship as soon as possible in case the G-men want to raid them, even though there’s nothing illegal going on. Their reasoning is that they don’t want the US government to learn even a scrap of information about what they’re doing.

Or what? What would they fucking do? There are no laws about shipping out giant city parts. I suppose it could be framed as Ryan being paranoid, but Shirley always explains what characters are doing to the nth degree, and there’s no such explanation here.

Also, and I don’t know why this isn’t being used: the world was fucking flattened after World War II. Shipping building supplies makes a lot of fucking sense. Just tell the gubmint that you’re selling them to France or something. “Aw, yeah, Uncle Sam. You know how much the French like glass tubes. Gonna put all the filthy tourists in there like hamsters so they don’t touch anything. When you get troublemakers you just close the bulkheads and fill them with water.”

Besides, all you have to do is tell the gubmint what you’re shipping off with. It’s for records to be checked against the port that receives the shipment to make sure there’s no funny business. What I don’t remember is if you have to declare what port you’re going to—I suspect that would be the case—but I mean. LIE? This is your life’s work. LIE.

Finally, New York is one of the busiest and biggest ports in the nation. Why would anyone be looking that closely at one more cargo ship? Paperwork back then was even more annoying and difficult to grok than it is today. Imagine the volume for a port like New York’s.

Just fucking LIE.

The real point of this scene is so there can be an exposition dump. Shirley couldn’t just send a messenger who didn’t know what was going on—he needed two people who were In the Know. The important part isn’t entertainment, it’s information: unnecessary and uninteresting exposition about Rapture’s political and economic goals, why they’re shipping supplies the way they are, and the US government, all despite the characters involved being intimately knowledgeable of the situation. Also, they’re about 75% through with the entire escapade, so if this conversation ever occurred at all, you’d think it would be months in the past. The G-man is an attempt at escalation, but then Shirley immediately de-escalates by saying he’s powerless.

So, just to reiterate:

Sullivan tries to shake a tail, fails, and doesn’t care because it doesn’t matter. He shows up at a ship containing building materials for Rapture, meets Greavy, and they lecture each other back and forth about subjects they should already know to summarize a bunch of events we should have seen. As an afterthought, Sullivan tells Greavy he showed up in person to confirm the time the ship leaves instead of calling because the phones are probably tapped. Sullivan will leave before the ship leaves so he won’t actually know the time to confirm with his boss. This particular ship is one of multiple ships and represents only one of multiple shipments—there’s nothing remarkably special about it. They’re not in any danger in any way and there’s nothing the USA can do legally to stop them. End scene.

How the hell is anything this bad.

How.

There should really be like twenty chapters for every one of BioShock: Rapture’s, each explaining how we got here. Because instead of sharing the exciting cat-and-mouse shit, Shirley writes about the outcomes where everything is settled.

This is how our reflections write in the mirror universe.

I have read fanfiction by fans of every age and fluency level and ability. Most of it was trash, but it could be excused because they were young or new or amateur writers, and even then, they’re often excited about a concept and trying really hard and might have some neat thoughts to share.

This… this is on a whole different level.

Writing Is Hard (and Caring Is Harder)

The reason for this is, of course, that Shirley would have had to research several different subjects to write about them in any depth, and time was of the essence. In fact, I am now 100% convinced that everything here is done in a mad effort to save effort, which sounds as delightful as it is.

The elements he thinks to research are absurd. I am now sure that he doesn’t know how to rank research subjects by importance. He does not research, say, the histories of the IRS or the FBI or corporate espionage. No, he researches “how to install a toilet” and “historical boxing.” He’s most often focused on physical processes or what things look like—not on what people do or why they do them.

I have a new bet for you: that each chapter will be like a little push-pin in a plot point. None of them will be married meaningfully to any of the other plot points. They will be little islands in time and rely on the reader to insert connective tissue. This will essentially be a disjointed short story collection, except without any tension whatsoever, because they’re just summaries of larger stories that we never see.

Shrug

Let’s contrast this burning sludge puddle with a different burning sludge puddle: Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. This is a fitting contrast as Rapture is a callback to Galt’s Gulch.

The protagonist, Dagny Taggart, discovers Galt’s Gulch (libertarian paradise and Aryan summer camp) in Part 3, roughly 60% through the book. In my paperback, Part 3 begins on page 643, and the story ends on page 1,069 (nice). The font is like 6 points. I can’t stress enough how dense this book is.

Rand spends ungodly amounts of time and detail lingering on her enemies—politicians and company presidents and whiny family members. She waxes eloquent on the destructive side of selflessness. Over the course of an eternity, she displays in slow, evolving detail how that world fucks her characters over, despite all their best efforts. And oh—they struggle. They fight!

When Dagny ends up in Galt’s Gulch, staring straight into the face of Objectivist Jesus, she has been through hell, and it feels like a relief: like she’s finally free.

Galt’s Gulch was not a given—it was a process.

Rapture deserves the same build-up. The build-up is the story, you understand?

BioShock: Rapture is like a romance novel that skips all its character building and sex sequences to leap straight into post-coital snuggling. It’s not half as interesting or meaningful if you don’t include all of the pining and rage and frustration and explicit dicking.

Funny He-He Clown Man

Oh, Frank Fontaine. They done did u dirty.

Hey, hypothetical reader, I’m gonna ask you something: what do you think when you hear "Frank Fontaine"? Do you think of a funny little clown man who changes into costumes every ten seconds like a malicious Bugs Bunny? Because that’s what we have here. And, like everything else in this shapeless abortion, I hate it.

Generally, when I write a character who’s not my own, I say: “What is most interesting about this guy?” And I go for some neat character trait or behaviorism and then expand. Everything about that person fractals off of their base personality, psychology, behaviorisms, internal worlds, and past experiences.

Of course, that character doesn’t exist in a vacuum, so you know what else I do? I look at how they’re utilized in the source material, I ask what exactly the source material is, and I examine what the story was originally trying to do.

Characters Are Limited

Since the Beginning of Time, it has been popular in fandoms to act performatively enraged about how each and every character in a piece of media is not fully-fleshed out and explored to the last quark of the final atom.

First, that’s not how narratives work. Stories have to be limited by their natures: we are limited to this time, this space, this person, these concerns, these events. Material can only stretch so far, and characters can only intersect so long. It’s impossible to touch on every single concern and detail of your world, and if you attempt it, you’ll carefully hand-craft an unreadable clusterfuck.

Second, a character is not a person. A character is a slave to the narrative. They are an ingredient and a tool. Even if they’re the complete focal point of the story, you cannot possibly fully explore them. They do not have full human lives or sapience. They only have what they are given. As inhuman objects and creative constructs, they are also not worthy of the same respect as a real human being. can you believe I have to say that

Third, it’s not important to have a fully-rounded character because that’s not always what the story requires. There are all kinds of different stories outside of character-driven ones—for example, focal points might be on themes, ideas, settings, or vast periods of time, and not on people at all; sometimes the narrative as a whole is more important than the characters inside of them; sometimes the style and POV limits how much we can know; sometimes it’s simply more entertaining or informative to omit certain information; and so on.

There are many ways to be interesting, and there are many ways to string along a series of plot points, and characters are just more tools in the toolbox. Instead of raking a narrative across the coals for not meeting your standards, it’s far more sensible to ask what the narrative is and what it’s trying to do, then judge it according to the standards it was trying to meet.

The Fountainhead

Sometimes a character works best if we don’t know that much about them. In my opinion, Frank Fontaine is one of these. He has a limited efficacy and only in specific situations.

How is Fontaine used in BioShock? Sparingly, that’s how. And when he finally shows up as ringleader, it’s to head what is arguably the weakest part of the game. Suddenly you have to look straight at him for a couple of hours, and he’s just not that interesting under a spotlight. He’s a small-time crook who won the lottery; what made him interesting was the Atlas con and his friction with Andrew Ryan, and both are over. He’s not that big of a deal in and of himself. He doesn’t really have any power other than ADAM—and of course, that’s the point.

Fontaine is not a character with an arc. He can’t change and he wouldn’t work very well if he did. In fact, he’s not really a character at all—he’s an anthropomorphized human quality. One of the alternate meanings of “frank” is “honesty” or “truth”; “Fontaine,” or “fountain,” probably refers to Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.

“What is the fountainhead—the source—of the Ubermensch?” Rand asks.

Levine replied: “What is the fountainhead of Objectivism?”

If Objectivism got everything it wanted, what would its world really look like? Because it wouldn’t be Galt’s Gulch or Rapture in its heyday.

Frank Fontaine is the ultimate culmination of Objectivist theory—not Andrew Ryan. The guy who wins doesn’t have to have any laudable moral qualities at all—all he has to be is the strongest or most cunning. The best idea or product doesn’t necessarily succeed because Objectivism isn’t about quality—you can just get steamrolled into bullshit because some company has more resources and social currency than the innovative little guy. If all you value is strength, all you will receive is the strong, and that strongman does not have any incentive to be anything other than a flesh-tearing, blood-drinking brute.

One of BioShock’s best qualities is how it just lets Fontaine sort of exist quietly in the background, like the faint, tense hum of an electric wire. You see evidence of him. You see what people think of him. But you never actually see him. The mystery is part of his power. Pre-twist, you only hear his voice once, and it’s probably utilized as a red herring in case you started to doubt Atlas’ identity. After all, Atlas is Irish, and Fontaine is from New York or something! You can trust Atlas!

But Can You Trust Shirley?

what the fuck do you think

I thought of just ending here and letting you figure it out but I believe this deserves just a little explication.

In Chapter 2, Fontaine—going by the surname Gorland—waltzes in, front and center, and with all the flare of a supervillain descending from on high, steals some loser’s shitty-ass bar.

“Whatta hell ya mean you’re the owner, Gorland?” … “…You’re about to sign this bar over to me, is whatta hell.” … Merton stared at the papers, eyes widening. “That was you? Hudson Loans? Nobody told me that was—” “A loan is a loan. What I seem to recall is, you were drunk when you signed it. Needed some money to pay off your gambling vig. A big fucking vig it was too, Merton!”

Fontaine got a guy drunk and made him sign something. Is this supposed to impress me?

I cut a ton of needless bullshit out and I still didn’t cut as much as I should have. (A “vig” is a gambling debt, so “gambling” is redundant, among other things.) What shitty dialogue this is. I told you, McDonagh isn’t the only one you should be cringing at. Shirley is terrified you won’t understand him so he makes sure to explain every point three times over.

When Levine writes “CIA spook” or “das vedanya,” it’s not to prove his work. It’s there because it makes sense there. When Shirley uses a specific term, it’s to show off. It’s like a little kid running up to show you that he finished a question on his homework. Except he does it every time he finishes something. And he’s always wrong somehow.

“Vig” in particular got me.

“Vig, you know! Yeah I looked it up! Vig! A gambling debt! Bet you’ve never heard that before! I researched! See! Vig!”

I will find your thesaurus, tear each page out one by one, and eat them in front of you without breaking eye contact. You will see me when you get up at midnight for a drink of water, slowly crunching in the dark. When you call the police I will evaporate. All that will be left is the hardcover, tented over a single dead roach pinned to the floor. At night you will hear me whispering from the walls: “haaaaaaaack”

Cynicism, Nihilism, Gnosticism, Humanism

Frank Fontaine is the most cynically written of all the characters thus far. He’s the one with the most obvious To-Do List.

“What do I need to establish about Frank Fontaine?” Shirley asked himself. “Let’s see: he is a conman. He is a great actor. He needs to find out about Rapture and get there somehow. He’s a super-awful guy. I should establish his background, motivations, and how he learned his skills. I know! He lived in a vaudeville theater!”

All right, all right. Let me be fair. I would bet money that Levine is the source of that background bit—BioShock features a million stages for a reason that I will someday write about at length—but god I hate it. I was in one-act play and I have watched hundreds of films but it doesn’t mean I know how to act. Isn’t it enough that Fontaine learns to manipulate others, perhaps out of a sense of childish self-preservation before evolving into predation? Does it have to be a big show?

…yes, I guess. Fuck. Because gnosticism.

Gnosticism is one of those BioShock themes that I least expected in this novel because it is a pure thought exercise and exists on several metaphorical levels. I’m sure Shirley has been informed of its existence, but we all know how he’ll handle it (he can’t lol). All you need to know about gnosticism is that it’s a philosophy that believes the physical environment is a broken copy of a higher reality. Even though the physical realm is fucked, it can still point toward a higher truth. In other words, you can learn from the physical world’s half-truths to achieve gnosis—knowledge of that ultimate spiritual truth—and thereby ascend to that higher spiritual plane.

But Ken Levine has a different take on ascension.

According to Levine, you learn by going through the horrors of life, but the truth is not some beatific vision. There is no god and there is no better world: there is Only Man. All you learn is that human beings hurt each other, and that they won’t ever stop, and to survive, you must go to war yourself—whether you like it or not. In the process, you struggle toward an understanding of how to make a better world, but there’s a catch: you have committed all kinds of harm out of ignorance. By committing that harm, you have ensured that the damage goes on… and on… and on.

No human being can avoid this.

Nobody can just TELL you how to make a better world—it’s far too big and complicated a place, and it’s always changing. You have to experience it for yourself to understand how it works. That means you can’t take your knowledge to others, either—because not only can future generations not understand you, your own knowledge is highly individual, and the world is continually changing so that you’re always one step behind. Future generations have to make their own mistakes in their own unique settings to figure out how best to live. In the process, they fuck up the future in a whole new way.

Everyone thinks they’re going through hell looking for heaven, but it turns out it’s always been about this fucked-up world and this fucked-up present with its fucked-up people. All you can do is your best with what you know.

The way Levine illustrates this is that art and artifice performatively point toward that ultimate higher truth: there is no escape, and we are destined to hurt ourselves and future generations in an unbreakable cycle. BioShock is existential horror at its heart, and it’s the best kind—the humanist kind.

So, thematically speaking, Fontaine being a literal performer, acting for our education and elevation, is correct. If you pay attention to the game, every character functions this way. Everything is a performance for your benefit as player. I have to admit that it makes sense. Plus, other than working retail, entertainment is a great way to learn how to hate the human race.

I still hate it. I want Fontaine to be more grounded, I guess. Every time I imagine him in a theater I cackle a little.

Cardboard People

Returning to BioShock: Rapture, the first problem with Fontaine’s section is that he doesn’t feel like a person. I don’t get a sense of his past, even when it’s explicitly mentioned. I bring up Fontaine’s past because people do what they do based on a complicated play of psychological need and lessons learned to survive past environments.

Alas: Fontaine is a one-note mustache-twirler. He wants to get money why? To get more money. Not to survive, not to defy the privations of his past, not to take vengeance on an uncaring world, not to bang girls, not to buy cool shit. He just fucks people up because that’s what he does.

Also, despite being a petty criminal, he seems above and beyond the law somehow. I’m not afraid for him when that G-man from earlier walks into his bar.

…oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s still my optimism talking. I keep expecting this book to work like a book. This thing is the hairy knot you find at the bottom of a drain.

Anyway, the second problem with Fontaine is that the entire story works to his benefit, and it’s immediately ludicrous. Instead of giving Fontaine problems to solve—and giving Andrew Ryan ways to work against him—you know, like real human beings with brains—Shirley just throws information and idiots at Fontaine constantly.

Allow me to illustrate.

Frank Fontaine gets his bar by drugging a guy who is dumb with or without intoxication. Fontaine wanted this bar so he could listen into bar patrons’ conversations for hot tips on gambling and grifts. When does this pay off?

guess

If you said, “Immediately!”, Fuck You! You are correct!

[Fontaine] wiped at an imaginary spill on the bar, edging closer. “But can we count on Steele?” said the one some called Twitchy. He twitched his pencil-thin mustache. “Thinks he’s going to challenge the Bomber next year…” “So let him challenge; he can lose one fight. He needs the payoff, needs it big,” said the chunkier one of the two, “Snort” Bianchi—with a snort.

is this a joke

This is one place I am not sure of Shirley’s intentions. Is it supposed to be bad? Is it supposed to be funny? Is he making fun of me or is he just dumb enough to think this is clever?

What I think this dialogue and these characters represent is Shirley’s attempt to complement BioShock's audio diaries. Again, we hit that divide between the ways stories are best told through different mediums. BioShock’s audio diaries are the literary equivalents of bullion cubes. That’s because you experience dialogue sparingly in a video game, and most content is wrapped up in gameplay, so you’ve got to get your whole idea across as quickly and densely as possible.

It’s for this reason that every BioShock character is an outsized caricature. In the same way that Fontaine is a symbol of Objectivism in its purest form (let's face it, the fountainhead of Man with a capital M), McDonagh is Andrew Ryan’s conscience, and Andrew Ryan is Man falling for the lies of the demiurge. Jasmine Jolene—whom we will see in Chapter 3—represents untenable fantasy.

Oh, and Shadow Eve.

Y’all wanna talk about Shadow Eve? I do. There's only like three of us reading this and I'm counting myself so I'm assuming the vote is unanimous.

Long story short, Shirley doesn’t understand the differences between video game narratives and literary ones, and this fact is probably going to hurt me until the end of this entire broken endeavor.

Shirley also feels like he needs to show Fontaine at work at all times. In his mind, Fontaine is nothing but cons 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Shirley only knows what people do; he doesn’t know why they do anything.

In any case, Fontaine shoos off the Great Value Mobsters, for he has spotted our G-man from earlier, a man named Voss. It appears that Voss is looking for informations.

[Voss] leaned across the bar so he could be heard over the noise. “Word on the street is, this here’s your joint now.”

Originally, I had been reading this quickly, only to run into this paragraph and get terribly confused. Like damn, word travels fast, it’s been 30 minutes and everybody already knows this is Fontaine’s bar?

I had to go back and re-read. The passage of time is suggested somewhere in the info-dump that tells you everything about Fontaine instead of growing him organically over a generous period. It’s done terribly but at least it happened.

Voss crooked a finger, leaned even farther across the bar. Gorland hesitated—then he leaned close. Voss spoke right in his ear. “You hear anything about some kind of big, secret project happening down at the docks? Maybe bankrolled by Andrew Ryan? North Atlantic project? Millions of bucks flowing out to sea…?” “Nah,” Gorland said…. “What kinda deal’s he up to?” “That’s something we don’t… something you don’t need to know.”

haaaaaa haaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaack

In any case, Fontaine has it in mind that if there are millions of dollars flowing out to sea, he wants in on it somehow.

He didn’t hear anything about Ryan for a couple of days, but one day he heard a drunk blond chippie muttering about “Mr. Fatcat Ryan… goddamn him…” as she frantically waved her empty glass at him. “Hey wherezmuh drinkie?” demanded the blonde.

oh…………. oh this is a hate crime

Have you ever heard of Born Yesterday (1950)? Go watch a clip and listen to the actress, Judy Holliday. Her voice is what I hear in my mind. Except in Born Yesterday the protag is a human being and not a one-dimensional cutout with tits. And Born Yesterday is perfectly representative of its time so the fact it’s outclassing a writer in 2011 is shameful. The only question I have left about this book is, “Who cannot dunk on John Shirley?”

Now I think I understand Shirley a little better. I’m going to give him the benefit of a doubt and assume that we are looking at this crying woman through Fontaine’s eyes, and that this is not reality, but his fucked-up perspective.

You know how I was talking about the relationship between third-person limited POV and bedrock reality? This is one of those breakdowns. In third-person limited, we can see inside of one person, but nobody else. They occupy a world limited by their bias, but that world operates outside of them according to its own logic, which our Subject may or may not be able to comprehend truthfully. There should be clear divisions between what the Subject knows and perceives versus what is happening outside of them. When outside characters speak, or outside events occur, the reader should be assured that they really occurred in the ways they are shared. Otherwise there’s nothing solid to latch onto.

But I’ve got to be honest: I don’t know if this is intentional or not. I have never questioned point-of-view this way in my life. How much have I taken for granted in my tiny span? How do you learn to do something like this so, so badly?

This is John Shirley. We taught him wrong, as a joke.

Of course he wears all black and a goofy hat. Then he sucked all the contrast out until he was clothed in void. Does he think he’s a warlock

Long story short, this POV shit feels like madness to me. Should prose cause seasickness? The way this book is fucked up is one of the most unique experiences I’ve ever had. Although I’m learning a great deal from it, I also hate this experience. And I hate John Shirley.

“I’ll have a Scotch if I can’t have my man back,” she sobbed, “that’s what I’ll have! Dead, dead, dead, and no one from that Ryan crew is saying why.”

Ms. Ogyny the Exposition Whore has managed to interest me despite my deep loathing. I spy a mystery!

Coincidentally, this is why Fontaine’s sections tend to be the most interesting: he’s actively trying to figure things out where other characters just kind of hover in time and space.

New Reasons for Me to Feel an Unearned Sense of Superiority

Some of Shirley’s idiosyncrasies start popping out here because I’ve had some time to suffer under his patterns, much like a player getting their ass handed to them under an Elden Ring boss. For example, he sticks dialogue inside of descriptive paragraphs, and he thinks “went on” is an acceptable dialogue tag. I thought that was a fucking error until it happened the second time.

(✿◠‿◠)ノ.❀。• *₊°。I still think it is a fucking error ❀。• *₊°。 ❀

In my opinion, dialogue can be stuck with a descriptive scene, but it should be limited to the speaker’s actions alone. The implication is that the speaker is performing an action while speaking. Shirley will just slap dialogue into a paragraph with multiple actors and let the reader sort it out.

The reason why this is a problem is that it becomes questionable who the speaker is until you find a subject-verb or infer from context clues. Also, the longer the descriptive sequence, the more you have to think about the time taken to say the sentence as the character is performing the action.

You do not want your work to feel like this:

This is where I noted another little idiosyncrasy: every time Shirley does any research, he regurgitates it almost wholly undigested. Here, in an example from the prologue, he discusses the outfit of a Red Army soldier:

“Father,” Andrei whispers, in Russian, turning to look at a tall lean man in a long green coat with red epaulets, a black hat, a rifle slung over his shoulder. “Is that man one of the Red Guard?”

“in Russian” no shit

“Oh, that’s perfectly reasonable,” you may protest.

Then how about this sequence in Chapter 2, where he talks about boxers:

The talk at the crowded bar tonight was full of how Joe Louis, the Brown Bomber, back from the war with a pocketful of nothing and a big tax debt, was going to defend his world heavyweight title against Billy Conn. And how the retired Jack Johnson, first Negro to win the heavyweight champ title, had died two days before in a car accident. None of which was what Gorland needed to know.

(✿◠‿◠)ノ.❀。• *₊°。then why the fuck did you mention it ❀。• *₊°。 ❀

My chief complaint about the first set of descriptors is the list of prepositional phrases and weak adjectives and verbs. It’s a lot of talk with no power or aim. Additionally, Shirley just wrote about a dozen other people while mentioning their appearances so briefly that they might as well have been plywood standees, so a thoughtfully colorized soldier jumps out like a cat in a shitty horror film. That said, if you’re not a picky bastard, it may not bother you.

But the second one is outright incorrect. None of these historical people or subjects have anything to do with Fontaine’s current aims, nor with what he does next. It’s just there to prove that Shirley did research. If anything, it shows Shirley’s weakness: he doesn’t know how to smoothly blend research into his work.

This description is like stirring your cookie batter three times and calling it done, then spooning out a big lump of baking powder.

Shirley just put that shit in the oven.

“I just want my Irving back,” she said, her head sagging down over the drink. Lucky the song coming on the juke was a Dorsey and Sinatra crooner, soft enough he could make her out. “Jus’ wannim back.” He absentmindedly poured a couple more drinks for the sailors at her side, their white caps cocked rakishly as they argued over bar dice and tossed money at him. “What became of the unfortunate soul?” Gorland asked, pocketing the money and wiping the bar. “Lost at sea was he?” She gawped at him. “How’d you know that, you a mind reader?” Gorland winked. “A little fishy told me.”

gross

God, this paragraph is ugly and I hate it. Shirley splits the lady’s dialogue, part of which butts up against Fontaine and two sailors and causes a moment of cognitive dissonance. Shirley is ridiculously specific as to the song playing when “soft crooner” would have sufficed. The true note of interest—the data that Fontaine is sniffing out—skitters around the outsized imagery like a stupid cartoon creature.

Shirley does have a strength, and it’s in visuals. I can see and feel and smell this bar. Unfortunately, his visuals are static and progress little to nothing. Also, from what I can tell, it’s his only skill, unless causing headaches is desirable.

Also, before I leave this part, I want to clarify that there’s no problem with mentioning historical events, organizations, music, speech, people, etc, in your historical novel, and in fact you should, but if that description is at the expense of your plot, you have erred.

In any case, Fontaine asks this unfortunate caricature of womanhood what happened to her beloved. Shirley writes a long and embarrassing paragraph of dialogue that cannot end soon enough, and when it does end, it’s like this:

“Well, I went over to the place that hired him, Seaworthy Construction they was called—and they threw me out! Treated me like I was some kinda tramp! All I wanted was what was comin’ to me… I came out of South Jersey, and let me tell you, we get what we’re owed ’cause…” She went on in that vein for a while, losing the Ryan thread.

You lazy fucking bastard.

This is not the first time Shirley has ended a paragraph like this, either.

A Visual Depiction of the Dismount

Look, there are graceful ways to ease out of dialogue. Shirley doesn’t care what they are. Dialogue stands between him and a description of a “zoot-suiter [putting] a bebop number on the juke.” Do I care about that, sir? I do not. How about Andrew Ryan? How about Rapture? How about

Fontaine Shapeshift Moments Numbers 4, 5, & 6

One of Shirley’s responsibilities as writer is that he needs to illustrate the kind of person that Fontaine is. As far as I’m concerned, he’s done it several times over. It is abundantly clear that Fontaine is an asshole, and it’s clear what kind of asshole he is, even if he is kinda boring. Now that Fontaine has the Rapture thread, you would expect for him to follow that, because that’s what I’m reading this book for.

Obviously, that’s why Shirley takes Fontaine to a boxing ring! Because it is time to throw a fight! After all, we must follow up on that Great Value Mobster thread! We care so much about that! My heart throbs with anticipation! About Twitchy and Snorts!

See, Shirley did not illustrate one specific trait of Fontaine’s, and he thinks it’s important enough to digress to it: Fontaine’s ability to shapeshift, as it were.

“My name’s Lucio Fabrici,” Gorland said, tying Steele’s glove’s nice and tight. “Bianchi sent me.” … “Fabrici” had gone to great lengths for this disguise. The pinstripe suit, the toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth, the spats, the toupee, the thin mustache—a high quality theatrical mustache carefully stuck on with spirit gum. But mostly it was his voice, just the right Little Italy intonation, and that carefully tuned facial expression that said, We’re pals, you and I, unless I have to kill you.

Wait. Was “spirit gum” called that in 1946? Oh, I don’t care.

It’s worth mentioning that I have noted two black characters so far—the boxer from the historical infodump and Steele’s trainer, who Fontaine paid to scram—and Shirley doesn’t let the trainer talk. And you know what? Given how he writes dialogue, that’s probably the safest option.

After Fontaine throws the thrown fight, he goes to his bookie operation.

[Fontaine] walked over to Morry, to have a gander at the take, and heard a couple of the dockworkers talking over their flask. “Sure, Ryan’s hiring big down there. It’s a hot ticket, pal, big paydays. But problem is—real QT stuff. Can’t talk about the job. And it’s dangerous too. Somewhere out in the North Atlantic, Iceland way…”

First of all, there’s the unnecessary description. Can’t we just assume that Fontaine walked somewhere? What does that add to the narrative? Use stronger imagery or take that shit out. That’s literally your only skill and now you’re fucking that up, too.

Second of all, split the dialogue off, why do you keep sticking it to random fucking descriptions.

Third of all, how does the entire fucking world not know what Andrew Ryan is doing? Half of what Fontaine has learned has been from overhearing random people. It’s like the whole universe is conspiring to help Fontaine out, and it’s getting a little weird, I’m gonna be honest. Every time I randomly overhear people it’s things like grocery lists and brain-dead political takes. When will I overhear where to find one million dollars

Then there’s how Fontaine reacts when he overhears this information. This sentence immediately follows the paragraph above:

[Fontaine] slipped outside by the side door and set himself to wait.

He literally says nothing to anyone. He just leaves. He’s just had an intense exposition-filled conversation with his employees and then he’s like whoops bye bitches fuck your lives

Look at how fucking pathetic this sentence is, too. “Set himself to wait”? I actually double-checked this after an edit because I was sure I’d inserted a typo. No, it’s just this bland.

This whole sequence was almost certainly written at a sprint. Words and phrases are weak as shit—no emotional power, no visual or spatial sense, no movement. There are no smooth transitions and, quite naturally, no tension. It’s just one domino falling after another. You wanna take a moment and think?

NO.

RUN BITCH.

RUN

Fontaine follows the deckhands until they reach their ship—the Olympian.

Gorland tilted his hat so the G-man wouldn’t see his face and strolled over, hands in his pockets, weaving a bit, making like he was drunk.

There’s some more embarrassing tryhard dialogue but you can read it yourself.

“Making like he was drunk.” jesus christ are you even trying

The only important part is the deckhand arguing with an officer.

“I just ain’t shipping out to that place again, and that’s all there is to it,” snarled the deckhand in the black peacoat. … “I don’t mind being on the ship—but in that hell down below, not me!” “There’s no use trying to say you’ll only take the job if you stay on the ship—it’s what Greavy says that goes! If he says you go down, you go down!” “Then you go down in my place—and you wrestle with the devil! It’s unholy, what he’s tryin’ to do down there!”

Wait. What? Why? Why is it unholy to build things under the ocean? Look, I was a religious nut for a huge portion of my life, and I can’t remember any taboos about checks notes building underwater?

As the deckhand takes off, having quit employment with Ryan Industries, Fontaine sees a piece of metal, picks it up, and runs after the deckhand.

“Hey!” the man yelped. Gorland held the deckhand firmly in place and pressed the end of the cold metal pipe to the back of his neck. “Freeze!” Gorland growled, altering his voice. He put steel and officiousness into it. … “You think I’m some crooked dock rat? I’m a federal agent! Now don’t even twitch!” [Fontaine said.]

Fontaine flashes a fake badge, then gets this deckhand to spill his guts. In two pages, he learns about Ryan building a city beneath the sea, complete with information about its technology and current state of construction.

End chapter.

Fontaine’s section of Chapter 2 runs from pages 39 through 54. In about two weeks, he has pretended to be six different people and learned everything he needs to know about Andrew Ryan.

You Can Always Try

I don’t know what Shirley was on at this point. In my mind, you devote one chapter to Fontaine at the tail-end of one really good con. Really put your effort into the con, show the ups and downs as the criminals attempt to outmaneuver the popo. Maybe show Fontaine fuck up some other criminal and then take his name. A shadow steps out of the smoke, adjusts his hat. ���The name is Frank Fontaine.” Ohhhhh noooo I thought Frank Fontaine was that other guyyyy ooooooh shiiiiitttttt! And then never give out his background the rest of the story, and never show his internal world. Third-person objective: narrator stands outside of everyone. Keep Fontaine a huge question mark the entire story.

But Shirley was like, “Give Fontaine 3,000 cons in the same chapter, one after the other after the other, nonstop, don’t breathe, don’t stop, go go go go, and do it in such a way that Fontaine looks like the only human player in a world of NPCs.”

It just feels so unnecessary.

Here are images of Fontaine and Atlas.

That’s called “growing your hair out” and “cosmetic surgery” you fucking dumbass. It’s not that big of a deal. Now write something I give a shit about.

Question: how couldn’t the feds get all of this information in all the same ways, plus some? This is the FBI in 1946, the USA has just gone through WW2 like gangbusters, the Cold War is just warming up, and—most terrifyingly of all—J. Edgar Hoover is the FBI director. You think they give a single shit? Hell, I’m not sure they’d have to do much in the way of skullduggery at all. So far, the biggest problem with keeping Rapture secret has been employees talking.

Long story short, now Andrew Ryan and the US government look like chumps, and the narrative has the gall to imply Fontaine is skilled when he’s just unreasonably lucky. And if there’s one rule you should never break for a BioShock story it’s to make Andrew Ryan a fucking chump.

If You Must

Although having Fontaine front and center is not ideal, it’s also doable. So far, he’s the most interesting character in the book—probably because he’s solving the Rapture mystery. There are elements he doesn’t understand, which is a kind of tension, even if there are no repercussions for failure.

This tension is accidental. Just like every other character, Fontaine’s challenges and enemies are either neutered or indistinct. He hovers in a kind of eternal limbo where he is everything he has ever been. We can’t pretend it’ll get any better from here on out. However, let’s pretend that Shirley gives a fuck.

Now that Fontaine in a traditional character-driven narrative, we need to give him an arc. The Fontaine of Chapter 2 must not be the same Fontaine we see by the end of the story. We know Shirley will fail, but that’s the standard we’re going to judge him by. Remember: this isn’t BioShock-the-game. We’re writing literature now, so the aims and methods are different. If you’re going to use him as a major antagonist, he needs challenges to surmount, same as Andrew Ryan and Bill McDonagh and every other character ever.

So if you’re going to use Fontaine in this role, he has got to have an arc of some kind. He’s got to have something to overcome or learn or become because he’s in the kind of story that calls for that.

A competent writer would give you a reason to be interested in Fontaine. Shirley knows you’ve picked up this book because you’re a fan, so he presupposes you already are. So he just… doesn’t try.

jesus christ this lazy bastard. I hold him in utter contempt.

And I am just now at Chapter Fucking Three.

<- Part 5: Three Old Men Jerking Their Milk Sticks || Back to the Beginning || Part 7: Shadow Eve ->

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Masterpost thingy 3

Unless stated otherwise, all of these are prompts and sometimes they're still prompts even when stated otherwise. First masterpost here. Second masterpost here. (also some of them explicitly say "prompt" because adding a description seemed pointless or I was being lazy)

Thought Experiment - Billy shares his powers with the Avengers.

And All Hell Breaks Loose - Harley runs into Valerie while a nearby cult summons a hellhound.

Parental Mentor Figure - Batman tries to be a mentor figure to Dani.

Vlad annoys Sinestro - prompt

Pirates - Wondergirl and Johnny 13 get stuck in the PotC dimension

The Wish - Tim makes a wish.

De-Aged - Dick, Jason, and Tim get de-aged.

Titans Tower - Dani crashes in Titans Tower and finds Jason beating Tim.

Insults - Zatanna insulted Dairy King.

All-Blades Torture - my thought process on how you could use the all-blades to torture someone. also a link to a fic.

Time Loop Soulmate - Jason loops the day he planned on beating up Tim in Titans Tower.

Shared Custody - Clark and Lois adopt Dani and Dan, Bruce adopts Danny and Jazz. Suddenly, the three have 13 kids.

Don't Mix - Ectoplasm and Lazarus Pits don't mix.

Ring - Technus overshadows a lantern ring.

Star City - Star visits her aunt, Dinah.

Reverse Batfam AU - my take on reverse batfam. it's kinda a prompt.

Silent room - just wondering how the silent room would affect the supers with super hearing.

Pandora's Box - Ends up in Dr. Sivana's hands.

Maddie and Jack meet Mr. Freeze - prompt

Shifty - Dani finds a shifter group.

Accidental Dimension Travel - The trio wind up in DC universe.

Reflection - JazzxSelena soulmate au where your reflection looks like your soulmate.

Obedience - Dani gets cursed.

Puppet King - Danny's part of the Teen Titans

Important things - BillyxDanny soulmate au where an important event that happens during your soulmate's day is written on your arm.

Normal Day - FlashFam and Danny's timestream shenanigans prompt.

Halloween Cat - Danny turns into a cat.

Flower Scars - SamxValeriexStephxCass soulmate au where your soulmate gets little flower "tattoos" where you got hurt.

Family Reunion - Danny is adopted by Clockwork, Diana gets an invite to a family reunion.

Worst Enemy, Greatest Ally - dpxdc soulmate au

Color Stripe - DanixDick soulmate au where there's a stripe of color on everyone's wrist in the color of their soulmate's hair.

Secret Payment - The batfam sneakily pay their civilian informants without anyone's knowledge.

Run into you - DannyxBart soulmate au where you die on your 18th birthday if you don't find your soulmate.

Time's Ticking - DanixBilly soulmate au where there's a timer on your wrist that counts down to when they meet their soulmate.

No Dick Grayson AU - dick grayson never exists/never joins the bats and how the fam changed

Words - Danny goes to Gotham. soulmate au where everyone has a set number of words they can say unless they're with their soulmate.

Pit Madness - Dan gets stuck in the back of (insert dc character who's been dunked in the pit here)'s head.

Flower Scars - all scars appear as flowers

The Giggle - Dick's nightmare giggle followed him into adulthood

Hiding an Injury - Dick finds Dani in his apartment after patrol

Switch - Danny and Jason switch bodies cuz they resurrected at the same time

Symbiote - Constantine gets stuck with symbiote!Amorpho

Letters - Soulmate au w/ TuckerxTim

Mythical au & Part 2 - Alfred's a guardian angel, Bruce adopts Danny and Dani

Tarot - i chose who i thought works best for major arcana for a dc tarot deck

Obsession - Dani made a game out of trying to figure out other ghosts' and halfas' obsession. Bruce is a halfa.

Thrown under the Bus - Tim gets hit by cuddle pollen and chances upon Danny.

Soulmate AU - dpxdc. soulmates teleport to each other on their 16th birthday.

Eye Color - soulmate au where everything's black and white except for things that are similar in color to their soulmate's eyes. TimxDanny

Important PSA

[u2fangirlie-blog]

50 Things for My 50th Birthday - Now With 10 Bonus Things!

50 Things for My 50th Birthday

A continuation of my 40 Things for 40 List, with 10 additional entries for 50. Plus 10 Bonus Things!

Originally written December 2013 on my 40th birthday. It's a list of bits of wisdom I wish I had known when I was younger. Every item has a story behind it. I don't know if this is original, intelligent, humorous, creative, interesting, or valuable to anyone other than myself. But it means something to me.

Maybe someday I'll write an annotated version of the list with the stories for each one. Then that would turn into a book. Maybe it's better to give short snippets and remain mysterious than to overshare everything. December 2023.

40 Things for my 40th Birthday: 12/2013

1. The Universe has a sense of humor which manifests itself as irony. Take time to stop and notice the big glowing neon signs that point to irony.

2. Karma, like gravity, is a force of nature. It does not discriminate. It balances your actions and consequences like balancing an equation.

3. It’s better to be single and alone than be in a bad relationship for the sake of being in a relationship.

4. See the patterns and interconnections - streams, veins in leaves, flowers, moss, agates, geodes, galaxies, calendars, time – it is beautiful and awesome.

5. Every day is different. If today is shitty, tomorrow will be shitty in a different way.

6. Look for the positive. Thousands of things go right every day.

7. Have a good work ethic. Do your best, but don’t let perfectionism interfere.

8. Know your history. Remember your ancestors and family. You could not be who and where you are without all of their hard work.

9. Don’t bite the hook.

10. Don’t feed the troll.

11. Remember Professor Remus Lupin’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons – Ridiculous, Expecto Patronum, and Chocolate.

12. Learn crafts – sewing, knitting, beading, etc. – it enriches life. It’s fun to give surprise presents to people.

13. Dream out loud at high volume. Turn it up to 11.

14. No good deed goes unpunished.

15. The Platinum Rule: Treat people how they want to be treated.

16. Always have 2 weeks’ supply of socks and underwear.

17. Invest in good bras. Your back and boobs will thank you later in life.

18. Always wear comfortable shoes. Your feet will thank you later in life.

19. Don’t waste time in front of the mirror. Save money. Cosmetics are optional.

20. Do not fester. To fester is bad. Don’t bottle things up for years. When you eventually explode, it only frightens, confuses, and pisses off the target of your nuclear blast, and innocent bystanders may be injured.

21. Don’t confuse lust for love. Lust and love are not the same thing. Don’t allow physical attraction to obscure reality. Ask questions. You might not like the answers but ask anyway.

22. Beware of charming men. They use sexual energy to get attention and evoke a reaction, like using glamour magic. The feeling is fleeting. It’s nothing special.

23. Don’t wait by the phone or the computer. When a man says, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he probably won’t. He might intend to call, but he doesn’t know which tomorrow he means – 24 hours, 6 months, 8 years later. Don’t take it personally.

24. Diamonds are not a girl’s best friend. You don’t need a ring. A loving relationship is the real treasure.

25. U2 is the greatest rock ‘n roll band and “Achtung Baby” is the greatest rock ‘n roll album in the entire Universe.

26. You are your own worst enemy. You are the only enemy you will ever have. Stop listening to the Itty Bitty Shitty Committee.

27. You are your own best ally. You are the only ally you will ever have. Never betray yourself to others or to yourself.

28. It is what it is.

29. Chill the fuck out.

30. On the subject of Big Girl Panties: Pull them up. Deal with it, whatever it is. They can be She-Ra Princess of Power, Wonder Woman, or Tinkerbell Underoos. In times when you can’t pull up your Big Girl Panties, get some Coping Skills so you can deal with it. Use Coping Skills until the problem is solved or the situation subsides. Repeat as necessary. Coping skills will eventually become the New Normal way of dealing with it.

31. Learn as many life skills as you are capable of doing - housekeeping, home repairs, yard maintenance, gardening, cooking, car maintenance, etc. Be as self-sufficient as possible.

32. Know when to ask for help. Offer to help others too. Know when to hire professionals to do the job.

33. Felines are the best animals ever in the history of all species on Earth. Being a Crazy Cat Lady is wonderful. It’s the cats who are crazy.

34. Read everything. Read constantly. Develop highly effective writing and verbal skills. Clear communication is essential.

35. Book smarts, diplomas, and degrees are not an accurate measure of intelligence. Common sense, ability, skill, and experience are most important.

36. No one likes an insufferable know-it-all. Don’t correct others even if you are right – unless it is a life-or-death situation.

37. Practice mindfulness. Orient your perception to the meta level.

38. Be grateful and express gratitude.

39. Be compassionate, sympathetic, and empathetic – even to people you dislike or who dislike you. Everybody hurts. Everybody has bad days. Understand that.

40. Remember the reason why you had your ears pierced on your 30th birthday. Enjoy the small pleasures of life: favorite foods, scents, sights, sounds, clothes, jewelry, and all the pretty things. These are what the dead remember and desire the most.

50 Things for My 50th Birthday: 12/2023

41. Toxic Situations: Know when to get out on your terms while you still have options. Leave before they force you out. Otherwise, you could be left scrambling and everything is worse.

42. The Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything is 42, obviously. (Thanks to Douglas Adams.) 42 is the atomic number of molybdenum. 42 divine beings, with Osiris, Ma’at, and Thoth in the Hall of Truth, judge souls before they enter the afterlife in Egyptian mythology.

43. Dialectical Behavior Therapy skills, motherfucker, do you use them? You spent 2 years in Fight Club. Strive to be skillful every day. The core skill sets are mindfulness, distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness. Remember your values. Remember Wise Mind. Remember Radical Acceptance.

44. Gaslighting: Discussing problems is complaining. Telling the truth is causing trouble. Explaining yourself is making excuses. Asking questions is undermining others, making others look bad, or challenging authority. Challenging hurtful comments is not knowing how to take a joke. Expressing emotional needs is neediness. Expressing emotions is seeking attention. Showing confidence and intelligence and using an above-average vocabulary is being a bitch, being a know-it-all, or flexing your education and experience.

45. You need people whether or not you like it. Remember the pandemic lockdown. Remember working from home for a year and a half. You thought you trained your whole life as an introvert for that historic moment and would be excellent at it. No. It was objectively bad. It was a disaster. You need people. Be a better daughter, sister, and friend to the people in your life.

46. People change for better or worse. People will drift in and out of your life. People grow apart. This is a natural part of life. Accept it.

47. Magical Thinking: It’s one thing to know better. It’s an entirely different thing to do better. This is stupid behavior. It doesn’t matter how smart you are, how hard you work, or how good your intentions are. It’s never going to work out how you want it to. It’s never going to get better. And no one cares. Accept responsibility for your part in it. Don’t make excuses. Do something different. Do better. Change.

48. “Do or do not, there is no try” is fundamentally bad advice. Yoda’s lesson led Luke to black-or-white thinking. What would Spock or Picard teach Luke about learning a new skill? Get up and do it again until you can do it or find another way to do it.

49. Everybody is sick of your shit. Everybody, including you, is sick of your shit.

50. On the subject of Giving a Fuck: You either give too many fucks or you never have enough fucks to give. You need to practice, as the internet meme says, “moderate fuck distribution.” Ask yourself when you truly feel like you have zero fucks to give, are you completely out of fucks? Can you have a fuck debt, have a negative number of fucks? Or does something magical happen? Like a mint in the bottom of your purse, like loose change between seat cushions, like a potato chip under the fridge, there is always one more fuck to give. Like a free play token or an extra life in video game, one more fuck will magically appear. That one magical fuck will be dirty, hard, bitter, and broken, but it will be there when you need it. That one magical fuck can be saved or given as needed until you can replenish your regular supply of fucks.

BONUS CONTENT: I have more than 10 things to add to the list of 50 things.

Life is unpredictable. I don’t know if I’ll live another 10 years to continue the list, so I’m writing 10 Bonus Things. Everyone loves free bonus things!

51. “If I don’t do what my parents want, they will be mad at me.” WHAT? Did you just say the quiet part out loud? Every decision in your life is based on it! How can you be in the fifth decade of your life on this planet? Are you even an adult?

52. You can’t be needy if you don’t have needs. Meet your needs for yourself. No one else will. If there’s the slightest stink of neediness on you, people will abuse and reject you.

53. Don’t have expectations of others. Don’t engage in wishful thinking. Stop wanting people to demonstrate their feelings or care for you in the way you want. They won’t. It’s never going to happen. If you ask for what you want, then you are needy or attention-seeking. Accept what they offer as they give it, even if doesn’t meet your expectations, even if it’s nothing. That may be the only thing they can offer or the only way they know how to express it.

54. Most of being an adult is lying to everyone that everything is okay and that you are fine, when in reality your life is an unbearable mess, and you are not anywhere close to being okay.

55. Nothing you do is ever good enough for others. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. It never changes.

56. “Use it or lose it.” You refused to believe it until you quit using it and you lost it. You don’t need to look in the mirror to see it. How does your body feel? Get up, girl, and use it.

57. No one gets out of here alive. Prepare for your death. Don’t leave the burden of your funeral plans, estate, and debts to your family, friends, or strangers. If you worked on projects or created things with other people, include it in your will. Your legacy, and that of others, literally could be thrown away. If you don’t tell people what you want, they will get it wrong. Then you’ll have to come back and haunt the fuck out of those people.

58. There’s no escaping your past, especially with family. They remember everything. Every obnoxious thing you did as a teenager. Every time you freaked out. Every time you had a bad day. Every mistake you made. Every mental health breakdown. It doesn’t matter how hard you work to change and overcome your problems. You’ll always be that past worst version in their minds, and they’ll hold it against you forever.

59. Your family is never going to forgive you for getting a degree in English. It’s always going to come down to their misperception that you are nitpicking and correcting them when you’re not. They’re going to throw it in your face like a glass of ice water.

60. Remember the “Litany Against Fear” from Dune. You memorized it when you were 15 years old. It still works.

[themculibrary]

Magic Themes Masterlist 2

part one

a marvelous gift (ao3) - biblionerd07 steve/bucky T, 74k

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a curse: he has to obey any orders he receives. It gets more complicated when he becomes best friends with Steve Rogers–the prince who will one day be king.

A Traitor in the House of Odin (ao3) - Meltha T, 27k

Summary: As a Christmas present, Peter received an invitation from Frigga to visit Asgard. However, nothing in Peter's life ever goes quite according to plan.

bedtime stories and nightmares (ao3) - scifigrl47 steve/tony T, 29k

Summary: Tony Stark was comfortable with his life. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s brilliant, rich, powerful, a super hero. He’s got a team he trusts, a job he enjoys, his work and his creations, and he’s sleeping with Captain America. Tony’s life is just fine, thank you very much. He knew that it would change, life always changes, but he wasn’t in any way prepared for how it was about to change.

Tony never intended to be a parent, and even if he had, he could never have anticipated this particular change.

cabin in the snow (ao3) - navaan steve/tony T, 3k

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Steve and Tony get stuck in a strange cabin out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but snow and trees in any direction.

Consequences (ao3) - kcscribbler loki/mobius T, 4k

Summary: In which a mission goes wrong, and Mobius has to make a snap judgment call in the field.

Factory Regress (ao3) - SucculentHyena steve/bucky T, 54k

Summary: A crashed ship, a mysterious device, and some unfortunate circumstances.

Fade to Darkness (ao3) - Bookwormgal T, 9k

Summary: An encounter with a Variant results in Loki coming in contact with a dangerous magical artifact. One that is guaranteed to extinguish the life out of anyone who is unfortunate enough to be affected by it. He knows that he is doomed the moment it happens.

His friends are not likely to let that happen.

never odd or even (ao3) - memoriaeterna T, 80k

Summary: Time. Space. Reality. It’s more than a linear path. When faced with the impossible, magic does the unthinkable. Now bearing the words of their worst enemies and greatest allies as the markers in pursuit of three different ends, the question is whether they can accomplish what they came back for without jeopardizing each other?

Or: A group of time travelers unintentionally ending up in the same past to fix three separate future problems is a recipe for disaster.

One Precise Point (ao3) - AttractiveAfternoon tony/stephen E, 167k

Summary: Just as Stephen Strange is settling into his new life as Master of the Mystic Arts and Sorcerer Supreme, he starts having unusual dreams. Snippets of a world-ending event he’s never witnessed begin to haunt him even in his waking hours, and he eventually looks to the time stone for answers.

Vowing to find a way to defeat the alien Thanos from killing half of all living things, Stephen’s humanity rears its ugly head when he falls in love with the one man meant to die saving the universe. It’s a cruel twist of fate that he will not accept.

Refusing to leave the time stone until he’s figured out a way to save Tony Stark, Stephen finds himself in a desperate, hellish loop. He's going up against all of his training and destiny itself, but he'd rather die trying than watch the death of his beloved happen in real life, no matter the consequences.

Something Crawled Out of Your Grave (ao3) - JacarandaBanyan tony/stephen G, 2k 

Summary: When Stephen got back from Tony’s funeral, Tony was waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Hey there, Stranger,” the robot grinned. “Miss me?”

The Girl in the Dream (ao3) - Surajtare loki/sylvie, loki/sif E, 28k

Summary: Loki had always felt different. He’s not sure why, but he never quite belonged. The other boys tease him and say he’s a girl, and every night, Loki dreams that he is a girl. The girl is happy whereas the boy is not. The girl fits in. The girl belongs. Little by little, Loki gets convinced that he was supposed to be born a girl. But something goes wrong with the girl in his dreams. Overnight the dreams turn into nightmares, and Loki has no idea why. As both he and his Dream Girl are growing up they search for identity, love, and what it means to become who you are.

the moon and the sea (ao3) - dirigibleplumbing steve/tony E, 81k

Summary: Steve has lived his whole life in the coastal California town of Nublado. He’s spent the last few years trying to move on from a traumatic event in his past, and he finds new joy when he befriends—and quickly falls for—reclusive local billionaire Tony Stark. Then Tony abruptly breaks things off and won’t reply when Steve reaches out. Steve’s friends Clint and Nat have his back, at least. But… is someone following him everywhere? What’s with the human teeth Steve and his friends found while they were out fishing? How did the Scarlet Witch know so much about him? And why are there so many crows around?

The Princess & I (ao3) - br_er shuri/riri M, 9k

Summary: At night, there was no difference between them.

Only love.

the seventh stone (ao3) - Elenduen tony/bruce wayne, one sided steve/tony E, 147k

Summary: The fight in Siberia leaves Tony in a persistent vegetive state from which he is not expected to recover. His remaining friends watch over his bedside praying for a miracle to bring him back to them while the Rogue Avenger’s remain in hiding.

Across the Galaxy Thanos, the Mad Titan destroys Xandar to claim the Power Stone, his next stop will be Asgard, or rather the refugee ship for the Tesseract and the Space Stone.

As the Power Stone is placed into the infinity gauntlet, Tony Stark awakens from his coma with no brain damage at all, but he isn’t celebrating. Something is coming, something bad, he knows it, he can feel it, and somewhere something that is somehow his is calling out to him, it’s what woke him up in the first place, but what is it and why is it so important?

After all there are only six infinity stones, Right?

this time, unchained (ao3) - Anonymous frank/jason M, 3k

Summary: “Well, shit,” Natasha says, voice deep and gravelly, and holy shit tall, Jason tilts his neck back to look up at her. Him.

Himself?

twelve days (ao3) - elysianprince steve/tony T, 22k

Summary: In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn’t know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn’t among his plans.

What Is Love, Anyways? (ao3) - airas_story stephen/wong, tony/stephen, tony/wong T, 6k

Summary: They all know how to break the curse, but none of them can.

Wong has an idea.

Witchdoctor (ao3) - hayanwulf tony/stephen T, 6k

Summary: Being hunted by a coven of witches sent after him by his own godfather, Tony doesn’t know who to trust or where to ask for help. But perhaps, there is one man whom Tony could trust to not be on Obadiah’s side...

The only question is, will the witchdoctor help him, or will he watch Tony burn in the stake of his own foolishness?

[bottomseareef]

For the ask meme, 1 and 7

Excluding murder, what is the worst thing your OC has ever done?

Betraying his friends and family, and abandoning his values of helping those in need, Sean treats everyone and anyone as a potential victim to his crusade including his friends and family investigating their entire life, looking for anything that doesn’t make them perfect. Using your Tavs as an example, Issal would probably be the one he goes after the most because deep hatred for nobles “How could I have ever considered you a friend? How are you any different than any other noble? I should’ve slit your throat the second I laid eyes on you.” Although with Zilvuit I’m mixed between them hunting and taunting each other in the dark because they have similar tactics (Similar to Assassin’s Creed Syndicate Jack the Ripper) or Zilvuit using Sean's hatred of nobles to manipulate him into helping her restore House Oussafin, Sean gets his bloodlust filled, Zilvuit gets the weak links and rivals eradicated, a Gortash and Orin partnership, one desperately wants to kill the other but I can see Sean holding back afterwards until Zilvuit grows even more powerful so the kill would be even more satisfying. It would probably be even more of a betrayal if Sean worked with Issal’s greatest enemy rather than just killing her. “I prefer your little curse.” If going after Khal'ian, it would mostly be projecting. He would see Khal’s enjoyment of combat and recognize it as a flaw he has as well and think “If he has my flaws he must be as bad as me.” But the reason he would say would be that he’s apart of the Gith and that’s enough for him which it is but it’s not truly why.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

There’s nothing that will stop him from killing someone he deems evil, he’ll kill anyone even innocents. “If they were innocent they wouldn’t have been in my way.” He’d sacrifice allies, friends, if he had to loose a limb he would. I don’t even think his daughter would be able to stop him because she’s a soldier, she prefers the law, doing things by the book, although I don’t think he’d be able to mentally recover if he had killed or harmed her. The only person that could fully stop him would be his mom, she’s the only person he wouldn’t be able to find a reason to deem them evil.

[iinafarawaygalaxii]

Star Wars the Clone Wars: Bloodline

The Man with Yellow Armor : Chapter 2

Timeline: 22bby

Summary: Veras days were numbered in terms of her decision to join the GAR and with the pile of work from her current job, joining the GAR didn't seem like such a bad idea. Although she did have ideals to stay away from the war, a new player joins the mission to capture her influence as this day alone changed the way she viewed her own life and the life of others. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Mention of death

Rating: SFW

Notes:

*Mesh'la = Beautiful in Mondoa

Curse word or 2?

Time can be your greatest ally or your worst enemy and for Vera, it was the latter. On the night of the first rotation she began to feel the pressure of her decision to join the GAR. The sun was already drifting to dusk and she had less than 24 hours to give the Generals their answer. After one of her busiest days working for the Grand Republic Medical Facility, she sat there in her office rubbing her temples, thinking about the advice her boss had given about what would happen when, or mostly if, she would return. A higher status in society maybe? They would want her to become the senators private doctor or (even better) become the Director of the hospital and take her bosses job... Either way, the opportunities were endless but.. Vera didn't want to think about that, at least not right now. She realized she's been given a choice to actually help the people fighting on the civvies behalf- something she never had the chance to do, especially 10 years ago. "Now Im beginning to understand what Rex meant...", whispering to herself with the memory of Rex's voice invaded her thoughts, ~"I understand that civvies will assume we get the best but you are wrong. Were created to serve the republic, we don't get choices like you. Don't assume otherwise, doctor." ~. She really messed up because at the end of the day he was right and it made her feel very guilty. What was the purpose of creating the clones in the first place? Why didn't they recruit from republic planets? So many questions, not very many answers but.... It made her think that maybe there was something bigger at play, or more importantly, she felt that there was especially since Kamino. Although she gave up on the feeling a long time ago, she couldn't help but wonder if this is what her Gods have planned. Being deeply connected to the force definitely helped get her here but a choice as big as this?  The future was clouded and the uncertainty is what brings back the horrors from her past. She felt Rex on a deeper level, one where duty and sacrifice stood. "Damn..", she sighed out placing a hand over her heart as tears began to formulate with each droplet representing the many souls lost that day. To stop the incoming panic of the traumatic experience, she rubbed her eyes and began packing up the remainder of her work for the day, trying to ignore the nasty memories that began brewing wishing Cersi was here to help navigate the feeling she never took the time to understand.

'I cant go through that again...', she whispers to herself before shutting off her office lights to head home.

-

The dim light from the candle she lit, illuminated the shadows of all the work that needed to be done on her desk at home. "So much.. paperwork", she sighed rubbing her temples realizing her life means much more than this but, this is what she chose. She wanted to feel what civilians feel, being able to go wherever they wanted whenever they wanted. At the end of the day all she truly wanted was to be free and independent but to be free always comes with a cost, making her realize life was never just black and white. It was filled with a grey area of the 'unknown' and thats what she's always been afraid of as memories began piercing down to the smallest areas of her brain, brining back the pain she felt... One she or her sister hasnt been able to escape from. Although her heart throbbed for adventure... her soul sought out peace and solace but how will she manage to obtain both? Just this question alone filled her with a curiosity so strong that it became something thats never been satiated even with her job now...

Something has always been missing.

Peering over her work realizing that this isn't what she had pictured for her life- her memories became flooded looking back at her training since the invasion and the new worlds she got to see. "I could have that again....", she thought rubbing her thumbs together gazing over at her clock seeing it was almost time for dinner. Cersi still hadnt made it home but ever since she got accepted as the apprentice for the Naboo senator Padame Amidala, her trips home had become non existent. Not that it was a bad thing, she was happy that her sister grown enough to be able handle herself being 20 and all. A low growl deep in her stomach began to rumble as she got up and proceeded to the fridge,  "Hmm, I need a few ingredients", rummaging through her cupboards seeing what else she needed to buy at the market which was only a few minutes away by speeder. Sighing, she closed her spice drawer rolling her eyes at the realization that she was, "out of Astrian spice...". There wasn't very many places that held such a unique spice, especially since the invasion. The closest spice store was by a bar, 79s, which may or may not have what she needed. "The clone bar...", she closed her eyes whispering to herself, "of course...", She instantly thought about him, contemplating if he would be there. 'A man like that wouldn't spend time there but, who knows..', she contemplated as she grabbed her long jacket, purse, and boots readying herself for a grocery trip to make her way towards the speeder. 

-

The market was bustling. Many different species were shopping and of course the patients she has seen here and there. She got all of her necessary ingredients for her roasted porg, only part that was missing was the spice, "Its only a few blocks away", she insisted, "maybe I'll just walk..", and so she proceeded to enjoy the breeze and took her time walking to the spice store. 

Coruscant is filled with so much its almost hard to have a clear path in front of you. Street marketers, solicitors, soldiers, all types of people trying to make a penny. Minutes have passed and she found herself almost directly in front of the spice shop. She walked a bit faster, weaving her way through foot traffic until she bumped into someone dropping her groceries. The person caught the bag in mid air and grabbed her arm before falling. How embarrassing. He lifted her up and handed her the groceries, "Kriff Im so sorry", Vera said turning towards the man grabbing the bag before meeting his eyes and froze;

 "Oh...the man with the yellow armor, I saw you at the GAR",

"This man in yellow armor has a name you know.", he replied picking up his helmet,

"Im sorry I didn't mean to bump into you, I wasn't paying attention", she put her bag back up on her shoulder and readjusted her jacket and hair, "Whats your name? I don't think we've been introduced yet. My name is-"

"Doctor Vera Cross. I know." The man said,

"How did you know my nam-",

"The generals have been speaking highly of you, plus, I was in charge of searching for a combat medic trainer",

"oh...", 'so he's the reason I'm stuck in this mess', 

"what made you select me then?",

She looked up to him. Their eyes meeting as her heart started to race, 'damn he looks so much like rex. Their eyes are so...',  Its either clone troopers are too tall or she was too short but overall he was very nice to look at from this perspective and she enjoyed every second of it. He gave a small grin and narrowed his eyes snapping her out of her cheeky thoughts, "We should probably move out of the way...", She nodded as he offered his arm to her. she took it as the began scurrying through hurdles of people to reach the store. The closer they got the more she seen how many clones were around drunk, tipsy, and all of the above heading towards one place, the bar next door. She honestly came in hope of seeing Rex but she knew in the end that it was a long shot. There was just so many women canoodling the soldiers that overall it seemed like a sleazy place that he didnt seem he wouldn't be into. At that point she had wished shed gone to the spice store 20 minutes away. 

They quickly arrived at their destination, Cody positioning himself in front of her. "My name is Cody. Commander of the 212th and Marshal to my brothers", he replied, "I selected you because you have the most experience, you're young, and most importantly you've been in battle before." He's right she has and its not stuff she likes to reminisce about, "Yes well I prefer to not talk about that...", She said looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. The memories from Genosis, Naboo and even her own home began flooding. "Thank you, for catching me and... Im sorry I ran into you Commander", she said modestly, "Its okay Doctor.. What are you doing here anyways? Seems a bit out of your way", he looks at the groceries she had just bought at the market which is a 10 minute walk away but he was right, the spice store was further than she needed to go. "I was just thinking and wanted to have some fresh air before I return to my dungeon of paperwork", she answered. He was no stranger to paperwork, she was obviously stressed about it. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she wasn't dressed to impress so her cheeks began to flush as she contemplated her look. “Obviously wasn’t ready to running into someone, sorry I look like a bum…”, She tucked a hair behind her ear and looked away in embarrassment, “You look good mesh’la”. 

Mesh’la? That’s Mando’a, a clone language specific to them that she never had the chance to study. “What does mesh’la mean?”, He grinned at her which made her uneasy, “You gunna head in? It’s a bit chilly out”, he held the door open for her prompting her to walk in. So she did, not ignoring the fact that he didn't answer her question. She heads into the store and he had followed, "So does being a commander mean you don't have answer questions?", she said stopping midway into the store that was in fact quite empty, "I'll let you find out on your own doc. You're smart enough", he pushed passed her and asked, "What are you even looking for, anyways?", picked up spices here and there. Vera smiled because she knew what game he was playing at. Something she didn't particularly mind as she realized she was begging to enjoying her time with him. She smirked and walked passed with her head up, bringing the sassiness out of her personality. "Im looking for Astrian spice. Something Ive grown quiet fond of...", She said trying to make sure that the details about her identity remain hidden. "Is this it?" he casually said, "Yeah, how did you know that?", The spice was in a completely different language and with the magnitude of product in the store she was shocked he would find it before her. "Well, easy it says Astria on the plaque above the shelf", "oh" she thought out loud realizing she doesn't pay much attention to detail as well as he does. I mean they have to right? Commanders are trained to pay attention to detail, its how they make battle plans and get themselves out of certain situations. Plus he's the Marshall which is a responsibility for over 36000 troopers... detail is kind of their thing. 

They proceeded to the counter to pay for her spice and left the store. At this point it was very dark and super chilly. They stood there looking at the people passing by until Cody broke the silence "Its pretty dark doc. Do you want me to walk you to your speeder?", She looked at him smiling at the kindness. If only her Rex started like this.... maybe he would be something she would pursue. "You're very sweet commander but I think I got it from here... enjoy the rest of the night", she responded slowly starting to walk back from him "Oh and Cody?!", he turned around to look at her, grinning because he thought that maybe, just maybe, she changed her mind, "Thank you for helping me.. don't be a stranger okay?", she smirked, "I wont", he winked back making Vera cheeks change hue. "Be safe mesh'la", he took his leave and began walking towards the bar.  'Mesh'la dammit', she thought, 'I have to look that up when I get home'.

She watched him disappear into the crowd of clones and women outside of the bar and proceeded to walk back to her speeder. He was right though, it is pretty dark and what comes with that are criminals. She did have a knife strapped to her thigh under her coat and she always bring it because at the end of the day no matter how 'safe' this planet is. Theres always criminal activity around in every corner. She continued walking in the direction of her speeder but started noticing something was off. She felt as if she was being watched. The blood started racing in her veins, activating her fight or flight because no one else was around her besides a few stragglers here and there. Of course she knew how to fight. She was a damn good fighter too because she spent years training since she was little with no only the general of her planet but the trainers on Naboo and Kamino as well.

Once she had reached the parking lot for the speeders, hers was the only one of three left from the market that had closed 30 minutes ago. Two men were standing by the speeder next to hers staring as they watched her approach. She calmly put her groceries into the back of the speeder and got ready to leave but before she was able to get into the vehicle the men started approaching her. One man with his hand on the front of the speeder and the other walking towards her with a bar. She stood there slowly reaching for her knife before BAAAM. The man with the bar tackled her  to the ground and pushed it against her neck making her hands reach to protect her fragile bones that were nearly about to be crushed. She struggled but managed to kick him off and reach for the knife.

At that point she was cornered. Two other men came, two with blasters, the others with bars... " Give up sweetie, you're highly out numbered. Give me the keys to your speeder. Now", the robber said as she scoffed and threw off her coat, positioning herself in a stance that protected her core. Everything became silent as the men began to circle her. She checked her surroundings seeing whats available to fight off 5 men. It was then she saw him, slowly creeping up behind one of the men with a blaster. She grinned, "First off don't call me sweetie, second off, look behind you" The men laughed, "This women thinks she can fight us off", not realizing how much shit they were in, "Who else did you bring along with you, another bitch?", the man turned around...

"You could say that..", 

Cody punched the man directly in the face, tripping him up and slamming him to the ground finishing him off with a taser from his blaster. From there it was an all out battle, Vera and Cody against 4 nut cases. Veras moves knocked 2 of the men out while Cody handled the ones with blasters. They fought so fluidly, every movement complimented each other that put all the men on their ass. After Cody disarmed them he used his own blaster to stun the other 4. All you could here is the screams of the stragglers running off into the distance, shaken from the current interaction that just happened. Cody walked through the men who were passed out from the stun gun to check on Vera, "Good work doc. Looks like you did some damage", he said approaching Vera. "You could say that, but you did most of the work. Thank you.. again." She rubbed the top of her head, letting out a shy laugh as he nodded reaching for his comm to call the police, having all 5 of the men arrested. "I told you it was dark out, you should've let me walk with you.", Cody mentioned standing directly in front of a slightly beaten up Vera. "Yeah well I could've handled it..", she responded tasting the bit of blood dripping at the corner of her lip. 

Cody came closer to her as lifted her chin up with one finger to wipe the blood from her lip ever so slightly with his thumb. "you're hurt, we should get that checked", he said concerned about the damage, "Ill be okay commander, I am a doctor remember?", she smiled at him as he gently let go of her chin. He looked at her with a soft gaze and grinned because, "even doctors need to be cared for...". Her cheeks began to flush as many thoughts crossed her mind. Of course that would happen now, this man is like an entirely new species to her. No one had been this kind and it nearly drove her nuts because she had no idea how to repay him just for this day alone and with the moon high in the sky illuminating the scene, Vera could only say one thing...

"Commander-" she took a step even closer to a point where their bodies were only millimeters from each other, the red and blue lights from the Coruscant police illuminated their bodies as she worked up the courage to make tonight end right. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the warmth he radiated and looked deep into his eyes and, "Would you like to come over for dinner?"

Previous - Next

[paperanddice]

At least one of the major cities of the Dragon Empire is in ruins. Thousands lie dead in the devastation, the Icons are in open war with one another and the constant stream of undead rising from each body that falls in the unending chaos. Worst of all however, a new moon appears in the sky, great eyes and a mouth staring out from it as it circles overhead, appearing each night when the sun sets. It slowly gets closer, closing in as it seeks to devour the very life force of the planet itself, an end to the 13th Age that would leave nothing at all behind to start a new era. This could literally be the end of all, if not stopped.

Fortunately, in this last desperate moments of existence, the Icons can set aside their quarrels and band together. All those who remain dedicate every bit of energy they have to staving off this end as long as possible. Even vastly destructive Icons, such as the Diabolist and the Red, aren't really interested in the death of the entire world, and many others wish to ensure that something remains, if only for them to rule. The Archmage, the Lich King, the Blue, the Elf Queen, and the Diabolist band together their incredible arcane might, supported by the divine power of the Priestess and the primal magic of the High Druid, forming a ritual to hold off Atropus' descent for as long as possible. The armies of the Emperor, the Crusader, the Dwarf King, the Orc Lord, and the Great Gold Wyrm ally to fend off the endless hordes of living dead, supported by the destructive juggernaut that is the Red. The Black and the Prince of Shadows reveal secrets they've gathered and hidden, pulling out artifacts thought destroyed and lost to the world from hidden vaults to stave off destruction for just a few minutes longer.

Even with this unprecedented show of unity among the Icons, it is only a stalling action. Atropus descends, the World Born Dead stronger than even the greatest powers the world has to offer. As the last, desperate move, someone (or perhaps many someones) must go to the surface of the descending moon and find some way of stopping it. If the malign and omnidestructive will of Atropus can be forced to manifest itself, perhaps it can be driven back. And that's where the party that have been unknowingly working against Atropus' agents for some time come in. Go to literal space, arrive on the massive corpse of Atropus, conjure up its aspect, and face down one of the single greatest threats to existence. It won't be an easy fight. It's possible that it isn't even winnable. But with support from every Icon working together, it's the best chance anyone has. Remember that all the effects of Atropus' sign are active, and the players are going to have to have some way of dealing with the innately hostile environment of literal space.

Originally from Elder Evils. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Aspect of Atropus  Huge 15th level wrecker [undead]  Initiative: +19 Creature of Legend. The aspect of Atropus can make one close attack and one melee or ranged attack each round as a standard action. Flying doesn’t provide a strong defense against the aspect, as it’s large and powerful enough to swat or even jump at creatures high in the air. Battering Swat +20 vs. AC - 75 damage plus 75 negative energy damage. Natural Even Hit: The target pops free from all enemies and is thrown to a spot nearby the aspect. Natural 18+: The target loses one recovery. If the target has no recoveries remaining, it must start making last gasp saves. On the fourth failed save, the target dies and reanimates as an undead enemy of its level. R: Power Word Kill +20 vs. PD (one nearby or far away enemy) - 75 ongoing negative energy damage and the target is dazed (save ends both). Natural Even Hit: The target is weakened instead of dazed. Natural 18+: The target must start making last gasp saves. On the fourth failed save, the target dies. C: Vicious Stomping +20 vs. PD (1d3+1 nearby enemies) - 155 damage and the target is dazed (save ends). Natural Even Hit: The aspect can grab the target. If it ever disengages from this target, the grab ends. Miss: 50 damage and the target is dazed until the end of its next turn. Effect: The aspect moves to engage one enemy hit or missed by this attack. C: Circle of Death +20 vs. PD (all nearby enemies) - 130 negative energy damage. Natural Even Hit: The target is vulnerable to all attacks (save ends). Miss: The target is vulnerable to all attacks (save ends). Enormous: The aspect ignores opportunity attacks. Disengaging from it only requires an easy save (6+), unless the target is grabbed. Immortal: If the aspect of Atropus is reduced to 0 hit points, it is absorbed back into the surface of Atrops and Atropus retreats from the world, potentially taking the characters with it if they don’t flee back to their own planet in time. This surely condemns them to death eventually, once whatever magical protection allows them to survive the void of space wears off or being swarmed by the various undead on the moon’s surface. This might still be worth it to them, if they managed to save the rest of the world. Legendary Resistance: The aspect is immune to normal conditions. This immunity can be bypassed by Icon-supported effort. A PC can use an Icon benefit to overcome this resistance each time they use an attack or power that would apply a condition or effect upon the aspect. The Ground Shakes: Each time the escalation die reaches the following amount, the aspect makes the appropriate environmental attack as a free action: 2: Great Chasm +20 vs. PD (each nearby or far away enemy in a group on the ground) - 90 damage and the target falls into the chasm. It must succeed on a DC 30 skill checks as a move action in order to climb out of the chasm. Flight bypasses this. Natural 16+: The target must make 3 skill checks to climb out of the chasm. 4: Wave of Ichor +20 vs. PD (each nearby or far away enemy in a rough line) - 50 damage plus 50 negative energy damage, and the target pops free from all enemies and moves to the end of the wave. Natural 16+: The target loses a recovery. If it has no recoveries remaining, it must start making last gasp saves. On the fourth failed save, the target dies. 6: Call Meteor Shower +20 vs. PD (each nearby or far away enemy in a group) - 120 damage. The aspect repeats this attack each round the escalation die remains at 6. Effect: The aspect takes 50 damage each time it makes this attack. Regeneration 230: When the aspect is damaged, it heals 230 hit points at the start of its turn. It can regenerate 5 times per battle. If it heals up to its maximum hit points, then that use of regenerate doesn’t count toward the limit. Resist acid, cold, fire, lightning 12+. Resist negative energy 20+. AC 30 PD 26 MD 28 HP 1980

[energy-healing-with-jen]

TODAY'S LEARNING Practices to Achieve Inner Peace

1. Meditate

Even though it's a straightforward practice, meditation has a significant impact on mental health. It fosters calmness and a more profound sense of tranquility.

How can one practice meditation? Find a cozy spot away from the hustle and bustle. Shut your eyes, inhale deeply, and exhale gradually. It only takes a few minutes and can have significant results, so don't stress over perfection. Remember, resources like Calm are here to help. To assist you in developing your meditation practice, we offer hundreds of programs and meditations.

2. Live in the present

How frequently do you feel like you're living in the past or worrying about the future? Like most of us, most likely quite a bit. However, as you are aware, we only really have the time we are in. Accept it and live it. Life unfolds in the now.

How to live in the present? Strive to give your whole attention to whatever you're doing, whether it's eating, walking, or even cleaning. Take note of the sights, sounds, smells, and feelings around you. It's like giving your brain a mini-vacation and the effect induces a sense of inner peace.

3. Cultivate a positive mindset

Our minds are powerful things. They can act as our greatest ally or our worst enemy. Everything depends on how we employ them. We begin to acquire inner peace when we learn how to focus on the positive and cultivate a positive mindset.

How to cultivate a positive mindset? Kickstart your day on a positive note. Jot down what you're excited about or what you’re grateful for in a journal. Cross out any negative thoughts that might try to creep in and replace them with something constructive.

4. Develop love for yourself

Self-love is the foundation for loving others. That’s not always an easy journey. We get it. However, the goal of achieving inner peace is to discover how to value your unique identity, embrace your shortcomings, and adore your talents. You are uniquely you, and that's something to celebrate.

How can one learn to love oneself? Take a moment to write down what you love about yourself. If you hit a speed bump or two, imagine your best friend. What would they say they love about you?

5. Practice self-care

It is not a luxury to take care of our mental, emotional, and physical health; rather, it is essential. Remember to schedule time each day for yourself. It's not only that you deserve it, but it's also a crucial step in developing inner serenity via self-love.

What is a self-care routine? Schedule in some 'you-time.' Yes, that means put it in the calendar and stick to it! Spend the time on whatever you like — a thrilling novel, a soothing bath, a peaceful walk in nature, or even some relaxing yoga.

6. Visualize a peaceful place

Visualizing a happy or peaceful place engages your mind in a positive and calming way, acting as a form of mental escape from stressors and fostering a sense of inner peace.

How can I picture your serene space? Close your eyes and think of a place where you feel utterly at peace. It might be a forest, a beach, or simply a recollection. What can you hear, smell, or see? When stress starts to creep in, visit this place in your mind.

[guess-that-ship]

S12 Round 2

See You on the Same Side of the War

cw: war

Both the ultimate warrior of their respective armies, Green and Silver did not cross paths until the tail end of the war, but instantly became personal enemies. Silver destroyed the only home Green knew while Green thwarted the most important mission of Silver's career. Silver's army was winning, but it'd only be with Green's head on his sword that Silver could redeem himself.

Yet fate had other plans in store, as Silver was forced to work alongside Green and his allies after a shocking betrayal. Realizing all he had worked for was a lie, he threw away most of his prejudices to finally do the right thing - but fierce tension remained between him and Green. Harrowing battle after harrowing battle, however, and the two were soon saving each other's lives. It was merely to avoid causalities, there was still a war to win, it was the right thing to do-

But to Silver, their time meant more than that. He returned from the final battle to his home - Green did not. Silver remained one of the few people, perhaps the only one, to have faith that Green would one day return; and until then, he'd ensure the peace they fought for would one day come, even as more and more conflicts sprouted. On the wall of his ancestral home, detailing his life story, is a mural of a green figure - his worst enemy turned greatest friend; he says he's most proud of that one.

As I Know You Are

Argyle is considered the bottom of the barrel within his social hierarchy, being a nerd with few friends and a frequent target of degradation, to the point he has very little self worth and does not believe he is cool enough to leave a mark on the world. Plaid, meanwhile, is extremely popular and as close to royalty as someone could get in their situation, but most of her confidence is a front to cover for her own self worth issues, which stem from believing she's stupid. Despite both of them having issues seeing worth in themselves, they start to see worth in each other when Plaid singles out and asks Argyle to help her in a difficult situation, and Argyle starts to see she's much kinder and smarter than she tends to let on.

After accidentally helping to cause a tragedy that results in one of Argyle's tormentor's death, they now feel free to try to become closer without fear of retribution. However, the consequences of what they started begin to add up, placing stress on their relationship. When talking things out becomes inevitable, they accept that even though they're at fault for what happened to the tormentor, they don't regret growing close with each other, Argyle assuring Plaid she's smarter than she thinks, and Plaid telling Argyle he's cooler than he realizes, even if in a way unique to him.

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO NEFE COSMIA, FELIX HUGO FRALDARIUS. 🌓

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Owl age: 18+ pronouns: ? ooc contact: @/owthepen on tumblr and twitter other characters in xc: Estinien Varlineau, Alfred, Eunwol

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Felix Hugo Fraldarius age: 22 pronouns: he/him series: Fire Emblem Three Houses canon point: Crimson Flower Route app triggers: Patricide, War, Mass Death, Depression, Implied Suicide

personality: Blunt, harsh and serious. Felix is known for lacking no tact, calling out what he views negatively. His pride stems from hard work; a massive disliking for the elite is deeply ingrained within him. Felix’s care for his friends extends beyond as well despite his embarrassment, resulting in more often than not him lashing out angrily. Despite this, his temper is not so easily lost. Those truly close to him would have him dropping what he’s doing to help them out should they ask, despite much grumbling. His devotion to swordplay however, has resulted in Felix becoming careless, though he accepts mistakes in stride and works on them on his own. something your muse struggles with: Showing how he feels, communication, temper your muse’s greatest strength: Physical prowess, battle, anger, determination

history / background:

Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

A man who betrays his kingdom and his family for another, because he could not see how the goals of his friends and family could make a better Fodlan. A man who watches his friends die, who cuts them down because they were in the way of his Professor's goals.

He is but one man, amongst the many soldiers, who follow along the path under the leadership of Byleth and Edelgard, who sought to liberate Fodlan from Crests and Those Who Slither in the Dark. He believes in what they believe in, it's true, but at the cost of what? He had to fight against former allies, former friends, people he had grown up with. Sylvain, Ingrid. Cut and left to die. The boar- No, Dimitri, killed by his own bloody hands when he rages against him, and then Dedue, his loyal retainer, killed as a Crest Beast. The worst possible death, he thinks. His hands are stained red. But his biggest sin yet, is when he faced down his father, and felt his sword drive right through.

Felix doesn't have a father any more. He was disowned, wasn't he? Or orphaned by his own hands. Whatever. His feelings have grown numb, he had to see it through. He fought with Edelgard and the others, making new people who saw right through him. People who clung to him and made him feel less alone, but when all is said and done, and Fodlan was united under Edelgard and the rats that ran around in the darkness were killed, Felix became- Well. He just threw himself into battle again and again, until he too became unable to battle no more, and left to the mercy of the enemies descending upon him. That's fine. That's his karma.

powers / abilities:

Major Crest of Fraldarius: Increases his strength during battle for an attack. Also increases his effort when doing daily tasks.

Magic: Felix is able to use both Reason and Faith spells. He mostly focuses on Reason, with spells such as Thunder and Thoron, but also has a single Heal spell.

inherent abilities:

Sword Proficiency: Felix is able to handle swords with relative ease, and is able to use them almost effectively immediately.

Weapon Proficiency: While not as good as his usual skill in swordsmanship, Felix is able to adapt to various weapons easily.   items / weapons: Silver Sword: Regular Sword. 

Aegis Shield: A shield that takes on half of the damage Felix has, and heals him a little after each battle. starting ability: Major Crest of Fraldarius starting item: Silver Sword extra: Sorry he grumpo... discord id: swordandshield

[seyaryminamoto]

I try not to get too rambly lately because I am indeed busy (trying to finish a Patreon piece rn!), but... I'd say this moment warrants it.

I have spent over a decade building up to this chapter and its developments. It's very much the climax of the entire story. The journey we've been on was always meant to lead us to this, for all emotions to come to a head, for all threads to converge right where they shall.

To make it clear just how long ago I intended for this particular plot point, I hereby present all evidence needed:

This is a scanned old artwork from a long time ago. I've kept it quiet for ages, showing it only to a few people, because I didn't want to give away too much pertaining how Gladiator would unfold.

This piece was scanned on November 11th, 2014, according to the properties of the file. While of course I was nowhere near the level of quality I am at now, this piece, at the time, was one of my unquestionable best. In fact, I remember @jordanalane straight up asking me if I had asked someone else to draw this, because it seemed sooooooooo beyond my style back in those days... I was pretty flattered by that, even if maybe I should have been proud and said OF COURSE it was me! 🤣But the point still stands, it was a rarity for me to do something of this quality 10 years ago, even if I absolutely could remake it and outdo it now.

What I'm saying is simply that I've spent a long, long time working towards this endgame. Once I realized where we were headed, the direction of Gladiator became kind of immutable in my head. It was the ending that made sense. The development that would bring everything together properly:

Our story started with these two clashing, as enemies, and altering their lives forever by what appeared to be a mere coincidence.

In that instance, Sokka was completely overwhelmed. He wasn't strong enough to fight one-on-one against Azula. She had the upper hand at every point in time. That was the starting point of Sokka's gradual power climb: he faced an unbeatable foe who then became his greatest ally, helping him become so much stronger than he ever knew he could be...

... Leading up to this: once again, they face each other as enemies, after what feels like a lifetime of bonding and sharing incredible adventures, growing together and becoming better people by each other's side. Both grew stronger across time... but Sokka, undoubtedly, had the steeper power climb. Thus, the outcome this time is nowhere near as straight-forward as it was back when the story began.

Sokka's growth was meant to bring him here, to face his worst possible enemy, and this time, actually have a chance to prevail. What most people surely didn't expect all along was for this worst-enemy to be Azula, of all people, after everything they've been through. But what exactly will he choose when he finally has a chance at victory against her? Can he stay true to who he is... or will the pressures destroy him?

Near the start of the story, Piandao warned Azula to be careful, for if she broke Sokka to the point where he no longer knew who he was, Sokka would lose his greatest strength. He warned her not to turn him into someone he was not. It's a thread that has been dangling all throughout the story, sometimes easily forgotten, but ever-present nonetheless: in pushing matters to the extent Azula has, is Sokka's true self lost now? Or will he cling to it still, even in the face of likely death, all be it to make an unthinkable choice that might just change the fate of the world...?

:')

Guess you'll find out on Friday! :'D

Preview: Gladiator Chapter 374

As memories of better times rush through their minds and hearts, Sokka and Azula collide on a battlefield, as enemies, for the first time since their fateful encounter in the South Pole. The armies around them remain at a standstill, waiting for the outcome of the duel between Princess and Gladiator.

One will hesitate. The other will demand for no mercy. As steel and flames clash furiously, the fate of the world shall hinge on the choice the victor shall make, upon facing a defeated foe: will the blade strike down...?

Or will they surrender?

Read Gladiator HERE or HERE

For a snippet of the new chapter, support me on Patreon!