#what a way to ruin a fantastic character

[aleksatia]

10 Ways You Ruin His Day (and 10 Ways You Ruin His Self-Control)

I originally made this list as character notes for future stories — I love digging deep into their dynamics and really breaking them down. But honestly? I couldn’t not share. Would love to hear your thoughts too: what do you think drives them absolutely mad, and what turns them into helpless fluff puddles? 🖤

🍎 Top 10 Things That Make Caleb Absolutely, Irrevocably Mad

1 He doesn’t know where you are Even when it makes sense. Even when you’re safe. Even when he’s on the far side of a tunnel with no signal and too much time to think. The silence eats at him, turns every breath into a countdown. By the time he’s back, no one on the base dares talk to him until you’re in his line of sight again.

2 You come home with a bouquet of flowers from another man It’s not jealousy, really. It’s… fury dressed in olive green. You’re standing there, smiling, saying some poor man gave you flowers because you saved his life. Great. Fantastic. Caleb’s thrilled that his girlfriend is both competent and accidentally irresistible. But now he has to pretend this isn’t bothering him while mentally comparing the man's face to strategic punching surfaces.

3 You climb on unstable furniture to reach something You know, nothing fancy—just a stack of books on top of a chair that’s on top of a bench. And you? Balancing like a gremlin in fuzzy socks. He walks in and suddenly the war flashbacks begin. You think it’s funny. He thinks it’s a workplace hazard, and you are the HR violation.

4 You rearrange his model planes He adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. Would throw himself in front of an oncoming dropship for you. But if you dust his shelf and dare to reorder his starfighters and aircrafts by vibes instead of model number? He's already rewriting his will. In blood.

5 You do something reckless and then smile about it You say “relax, I had a plan.” He hears: “I almost died, and I’d do it again, because I’m cute and unstoppable.” That smile? That grin you give when you know exactly what you did and you’re proud of it? That’s why he needs stress meds. And maybe a punching bag with your face on it. (Lovingly.)

6 You casually mention the girl he used to date You say it with a smirk, like it’s just some harmless teenage memory. But he doesn’t see her—he sees you. You, standing in the doorway that day. You, catching him with her, both of them half-undressed. And you looking at him like something cracked between you. Back then, you were off-limits. You were the girl he wasn’t allowed to want. So he wanted someone else. Easier. Safer. And now, years later, you bring it up like it’s nothing—while he’s still trying not to remember how badly he wished it had been you.

7 You weren’t his first kiss—but worse, he wasn’t yours It never comes up. Not out loud. But he remembers. Vividly. The hallway. The way your face lit up. The boy leaning in. You smiling. And Caleb—watching from across the room, fists clenched, jaw tight, playing the role of older brother when his whole body screamed mine. You never talk about it. But he never forgot. Never will. Because that moment should’ve been his—and someone else took it first.

8 You walk away during a fight, or shut down emotionally You call it “space.” He calls it “psychological warfare.” You shut down. He short-circuits. Nothing drives him more insane than trying to fix something while you’re actively ghosting him across the living room. He’d rather you screamed. Threw something. Anything. But this quiet? This distance? That’s the one thing he doesn’t know how to fight.

9 You cry—especially if it’s because of him And then he’s done. Game over. His spine straightens like he’s under military command and his entire soul just went through the paper shredder. You cry, and suddenly he’s the villain. You say “it’s not your fault,” but that doesn’t matter. He’s already rewriting the past and taking full responsibility. And yes, he’ll suffer in complete silence. Like a man.

10 You secretly try to uncover what he’s hiding from you You call it curiosity. He calls it a breach of protocol punishable by full emotional lockdown. You think you’re clever. He thinks you just walked into classified territory barefoot, blindfolded, and with a target on your back. You were never supposed to see that side of his world. And now that you have? He doesn’t know whether to yell, hold you, or lock you in a room with military-grade firewalls and a blanket.

🍎 Top 10 Things That Turn Caleb Into a Complete Fluff-Mess

You wearing his dog tags / uniform shirt / flight jacket Instant puddle. No chance. He sees you in his gear and his brain just... shuts off. All he can think is mine mine mine, and he gets this dumb, soft little smirk like he’s trying so hard not to combust.

You falling asleep on him—especially mid-conversation You’re curled into his side, mumbling something about dinner plans, and then: silence. He looks down, sees you asleep on his chest, and that’s it. Whole day ruined. Cancel all missions. He’s not moving.

You bringing him coffee exactly the way he likes it—without asking That quiet, thoughtful act? Hits him right in the soldier-shaped heart. He doesn’t even know how to process being taken care of, so he stares at the cup like it just proposed to him.

You absentmindedly touching him—fiddling with his fingers, tracing scars, playing with his hair He pretends he doesn’t care. He does. He cares so much he forgets how to breathe. Just turns into a warm, red-eared statue trying not to whimper.

You whispering “I trust you” or “I feel safe with you” in a soft moment Core memory unlocked. He stores that one like sacred intel. Will literally whisper it back to himself at 3 AM when he’s lying awake, missing you. It breaks him in the best way.

You clinging to him in your sleep / pulling him closer without waking up Caleb.exe has stopped functioning. He will lie perfectly still for HOURS if it means not disturbing that moment. Bonus points if you mumble his name while doing it.

You defending him when someone questions his methods or past He’s used to being the shield—not having someone stand in front of him. The second you raise your voice on his behalf? He falls in love with you all over again. Might even cry. Secretly.

You gently helping him out of his gear after a long day Soft hands on his buckles. A kiss to his shoulder. A low “You’re home now.” That’s how you make a Colonel melt. His fingers twitch like he wants to worship the ground you walk on.

You surprising him with something dumb and heartfelt, like a handmade gift or bad sketch of him He acts gruff—says “the hell is this, Pips?”—but then puts it in his locker or keeps it in his chest pocket for missions like it’s sacred treasure. Because it is.

You calling him “baby” / “handsome” / “sweetheart” when he least expects it He acts like it’s annoying. It is not annoying. It turns him into actual butter. If you do it with a teasing smile? He short-circuits. Might drop something. Might combust. Definitely blushes.

🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne’s Calm Snap Like a Microsurgical Thread

You ignore his instructions when you're sick You had a fever of 102°F. He left explicit care instructions—bed rest, fluids, minimal movement. You, sweating and glassy-eyed, decided this was the perfect time to rearrange the furniture. When he came home and found you dragging a bookshelf across the room “because the light felt wrong,” he genuinely considered sedating you. Not as punishment. As damage control. For both of you.

You order greasy fast food instead of going somewhere “nutritionally viable” He offered to cook. You said no. Twenty minutes later, you’re eating fries from a paper bag while half of it spills on his clean table. You grin. He stares. Not angry at the food. Angry because you rejected his precision, then settled for processed chaos.

You leave wet towels on the floor after every shower He’s not sure when it started. Day three? Day five? But every time he walks into the bathroom and steps into cold, soggy cotton, something in him fractures. You claim you “forget.” He suspects a psychological experiment.

You casually mention spending time with male friends You think it’s harmless. Lunch with Caleb. Training advice from Xavier. You light up when you talk about them—and that’s the problem. Zayne doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t raise a brow. But the sudden over-fixation on his email inbox says everything.

You receive a speeding ticket. Forty miles over the limit. You wave it off like it’s a funny little anecdote. He sits in absolute silence, calculating the stopping distance of your car vs. standard reaction time at that speed. You think he’s judging. He’s actually trying not to scream.

You poke his ass. Specifically, between the cheeks. You call it “affection.” He calls it “emotional terrorism.” He flinches like he’s been electrocuted, whips around with murder in his eyes—and you’re giggling like a gremlin. Later, you regret nothing, but your thighs may beg to differ.

When you diagnose him with internet psychology You’ve read one book on attachment styles and watched three reels about emotional unavailability. Now you’ve decided he has "clinical avoidant tendencies with a hint of fear-based control fixation." He stares at you, deadpan, like he's about to perform your autopsy.

You keep spoiled food in the fridge and expired meds in the cabinet You say “it doesn’t smell that bad” or “maybe it still works.” His eye twitches. His gloves are already on. He’s not even mad at you—he’s mad at entropy. You’ve become its agent.

You watch reality shows. About infidelity. Willingly. You claim it’s “just background noise.” But he walks in and hears someone scream “that’s not even your baby, Kyle!” and your eyes are glued to the screen. His soul briefly leaves his body.

You washed his white lab coat. With your pink unicorn pajamas. It’s not just the color. It’s the betrayal. The symbol of his clinical neutrality now smells like bubblegum and looks like cotton candy. You say it’s cute. He looks personally violated by the washing machine.

🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne Soft Against His Will

You bring him lunch at the hospital He never asks. You just appear—arms full of neatly packed containers, face lit up like this isn’t the third double shift he’s worked this week. He complains about the timing. The smell. The disruption. And then eats every bite with frightening focus. You leave. He stares at the empty container like it’s proof someone still believes he’s human.

You quote him back to himself like a philosopher You remember something he said weeks ago—some throwaway line about time or structure or entropy—and you drop it casually in conversation, like it’s wisdom from an ancient text. He doesn’t know how to react. You turned his logic into poetry, and he’ll never recover from that.

You wear the little seal keychain he made He didn’t think you’d keep it. Let alone turn it into your everyday keychain. But there it is—always with you, worn smooth from touch. You twirl it absentmindedly while talking to him, never noticing the way his gaze lingers. Never realizing how something so small can hit him so hard.

You put a photo of the two of you on his desk It appears one day. No fanfare. Just… there. A moment frozen in light, sitting quietly beside his surgical reports and diagnostic schematics. At first, he moves it to the edge. Then back to center. Now it lives next to his pen. He doesn’t talk about it. But it’s the only object on that desk he wipes clean with his bare hand.

His work shirt smells like you You borrowed it that morning, wore it while dancing around the apartment with wet hair and no real purpose. Hours later, when he pulls it on between rounds, the scent hits him like a loaded memory. He short-circuits mid-button. Everything feels warmer than it should.

You leave your phone with him while you shower No password. No hesitation. You toss it into his lap with a breezy “can you clear out whatever’s making it lag?” and vanish behind steam. He sits there, phone in hand, suddenly trusted with everything. He opens nothing. But the fact that you’d let him? That’s the part that shakes him.

You ask for his opinion on minor discomforts A papercut. A weird freckle. A suspicious sneeze. You hold out your hand, utterly serious, asking what he thinks. It’s laughable. Ridiculous. And it absolutely wrecks him. You could ask a dozen others—but you ask him. Like he’s the one who makes things better.

You’re on top He likes control. Precision. Strategy. But when you climb into his lap, all instinct and fire, hands braced on his chest and lips already parted—his brain stops cooperating. There’s something about you taking the lead that makes him unravel. Quietly. Violently. Completely.

You argue with him about complex theories—and mean it You don’t just nod. You push back. You challenge. You quote sources he hasn’t thought about in years. You spark. You flare. And he watches, fascinated, lips twitching with something dangerously close to pride. No one does this. No one dares. But you? You never flinch.

You whisper “I love you” in your sleep It’s not loud. It’s not even clear. Just a faint breath in the dark, like a dream half-remembered. But he hears it. Every time. And though he never says a word in return—not while you're sleeping—his fingers tighten around your waist like he's anchoring himself to the only thing that matters.

🎨 Top 10 Things That Make Rafayel Absolutely, Irrevocably Annoyed at You

You told him his painting was “nice” You stood in front of a piece that cost him three sleepless nights, a minor existential crisis, and two broken brushes—and said “Nice.” Just like that. No gasp, no poetry, no tears. He aged five years on the spot. Somewhere in the distance, a violin cried for him.

You dragged him to a cat exhibit You thought it would be cute. Enrichment. A bonding experience. Instead, he spent the entire time perched on edge, eyes darting like prey. You said “they’re just kittens.” He said nothing. He was too busy making sure none of them came closer than ten feet.

You cleaned his studio You thought you were being helpful. But you moved The Pile. The sacred, unholy, perfectly calibrated mess. Now he can’t find his favorite brush, and also he’s deeply offended by how cheerful you looked doing it.

You didn’t reply to his messages for over an hour He sent three texts, one meme, and a “thinking of you 💭” voice note. You replied 67 minutes later with “sry was showering.” By then, he’d already decided you were breaking up with him, joining a cult, or possibly dead. He had a whole monologue planned. And now you’ve ruined it.

You cut your hair He loved your long hair. Adored it. Worshipped it. You showed up with a sharp little bob and said “it’s just hair.” It is not just hair. It is the collapse of a visual era. He’s still adjusting. And by adjusting, he means mourning with wine.

You made fun of his driving You muttered “technically, you were meant to let the tram go first” He muttered “technically, silence is golden.” His driving is instinct. Vibe. Energy. If you didn’t want drama, you shouldn’t have sat in the passenger seat of a man who parallel parks like he’s in a ballet.

You woke him up too early He went to bed at 4 a.m. because inspiration struck. You woke him at 7:12 like it was nothing, and said “you have that interview, remember?” He does remember. He also remembers specifically telling you that if he ever falls asleep before sunrise, you are to let him die peacefully, cancel all earthly obligations, and throw his alarm clock into the ocean where it belongs.

You hid your phone screen when a message came in You were probably teasing. Just being playful. But now he’s spiraling. Who was it? Why the secrecy? What do you have to hide? Congratulations—you’ve just activated his inner opera villain.

You got jealous Which is absurd. He’s the one who invented possessive affection. But you being jealous? That makes him unreasonably indignant. What do you mean you “didn’t like the way that gallery girl looked at him”? Of course she looked. But he didn’t see her. He saw you.

You burned the bacon You say “it’s fine.” He says it’s charcoal. The entire kitchen smells like culinary war crimes. And now he’ll have to burn incense and replant three garden beds to recover emotionally. Who even let you near the stove? Who hurt you? Was it… the bacon?

🎨 Top 10 Ways You Accidentally Turned Rafayel Into a Purring, Love-Drunk Work of Art

You massage his head He’s mid-rant. Arms crossed. Absolutely furious about the lighting in that gallery. And then your fingers slip into his hair—and just like that, the war is over. His entire body melts like he’s been tranquilized. He’ll deny it later, of course. But the way he leans into your hand? Case closed.

You claim him in public It’s an art gala. He’s dressed to ruin people. And then you slip your arm through his, fingers just tight enough to say mine. You smile like a goddess. He pretends he’s unaffected. Inside, he’s writing vows in ten languages and considering printing matching business cards.

You actually listen to his advice He knows he can be dramatic. Unfiltered. Emotionally volatile. But when you sit there, really listening, nodding like his words matter—you destroy him. Suddenly he’s not the chaos. He’s the compass. And that? That’s love.

You share every detail of your day over dinner You talk about everything—the lady at the store, the funny email, the awful latte. You give him your day like a story, like he’s the only one you wanted to tell. He leans in, listens too closely, files away each emotion like a collector of rare art.

You’re always down for his wildest ideas It’s 3 a.m. He wants to hike 2.5 miles along the beach, take a boat to a tiny island, and watch the sunrise with wine. You say “give me five minutes.” And just like that, you become the only person worthy of his wildest, most beautiful chaos.

You let him photograph you Nothing compares. Not awards. Not praise. Nothing rivals the moment you look into his lens—bare, unfiltered, unashamed. Especially when you’re nude, glowing, and laughing like the world doesn’t exist. That’s when he falls in love with you all over again. And again. And again.

You let him choose your dress You come out in the one he picked. Elegant. Perfect. You spin for him. And the way he watches you? Like he made you. Like you’re the gallery and he’s the only one with the key. It’s not fashion. It’s trust. And he adores you for it.

You sing when you don’t know he’s home Wearing socks and earbuds, dancing with a broom, serenading your way through burnt pancakes. You’re off-key. Glorious. Real. And he stands in the doorway, silent, just watching. Because in that moment—you’re not posing. And he’s never loved you more.

You take care of him when he’s sick He has a fever of 99°F and insists he’s fading. You bring tea, stroke his hair, whisper that he’s “very brave.” You don’t mock him. You take his dramatics seriously. He will never forget it. He may also write you into his will.

You join him in the bathtub without asking He’s already halfway submerged, music playing, steam curling in the air—and then you slip in behind him, no warning. You nudge your legs around his hips, hand him your shampoo, and let him wash your hair while you giggle. He tries to act unimpressed. But when he starts kissing your toes? Yeah. You win.

✨ Top 10 Behavioral Anomalies That Triggered Xavier’s Internal Alert System

You break an agreement—even if it's “just a small one” It’s not about control. It’s about structure. You promised. And when you bend the rules—just slightly—he doesn’t react outwardly. No visible shift, no sharp breath. But something behind his eyes goes cold. Because for him, even small deviations mean recalculating everything. And that means risk. To you.

You create drama “just to get a reaction” You push. You poke. You escalate. And he gives you… nothing. No outburst, no flinch. Just that flat, unreadable stare while he mentally exits the room. He doesn’t get angry—he just shuts off the part of himself that wants to stay.

You refuse his protection—on principle You call it independence. He calls it a strategic vulnerability wrapped in pride. He won’t argue. He’ll just be one step farther back the next time, quietly cataloging how to stop caring just enough that it won’t kill him if something happens.

You call him cold—especially when he’s holding himself together for you You see stillness. He feels restraint. You accuse. He remembers what it takes to not become the darker version of himself. If only you knew how much energy it took to stay composed. If only you knew it was for you.

You’re late Five minutes. Ten. No message. No explanation. And his pulse ticks upward—not with impatience, but with pure, trained alertness. He starts looking for signs. Traffic reports. Emergency alerts. By the time you arrive, he’s smiling. But it’s the tight kind. The kind that says never again.

You skip training You’re tired. You had a long day. You say you’ll make it up later. He doesn’t argue. He just recalculates survival probabilities and mentally adds you to the list of people who might die because they were unprepared. And he will blame himself for letting you get soft.

You pull away from his touch when you're angry It’s not the rejection. It’s the meaning behind it. He reaches out—small, careful, calculated—and you shut the door in his face with a single backward step. He doesn’t try again. He doesn’t ask why. But the space you leave behind? It echoes.

You use a photo of Lumiere as a bookmark You think it’s cute. Maybe even sweet. He sees it—and freezes. He’s not jealous. Not exactly. But the idea that you might admire that version more—the legend, the mask, the sharpness—it unsettles something deep. Something he can’t name.

You secretly believe you’re not good enough for him You never say it out loud. But he sees it—in your deflections, your nervous jokes, the way you doubt his love like it’s a glitch. It doesn’t anger him in the usual sense. It just…hurts. Because you’re the only one who never had to earn it.

You throw yourself in front of him during a mission It’s instinct, you say. Split-second decision. You didn’t even think. And that’s the problem. He does. Always. Every variable, every movement, every risk is accounted for—except you breaking formation to protect him. You think it’s brave. He sees it as catastrophic miscalculation. Not because you acted without logic. But because you decided his life was worth more than yours. And that? That’s the one conclusion he refuses to accept.

✨Top 10 Things That Quietly Break Xavier’s Walls and Leave Him Unreasonably Soft About You

When you start reading the same book he’s readingYou don’t announce it. You just show up with the same title, a few chapters behind, and start casually asking questions. He plays it off. But inside? He’s spiraling. Because this—this—is how you speak his language. Silently. Precisely. Together.

When you knock on his door like you’re trying to break it downIt’s loud. Impatient. Inappropriate for the hour. But he knows that knock. That rhythm. That you. You need him. Not his solutions. Him. And somehow, that chaos pounding on his door feels more like home than anything else.

When you hug him from behindYou wrap your arms around his torso mid-task, face pressed between his shoulder blades, palms splayed across his chest like you’re anchoring yourself to something ancient and steady. He stills. Every time. Like someone just whispered a secret to his bones. He never asks why. Never moves away. He just tilts his head slightly—listening, as if your silence said everything he needed to hear.

When you touch his sword (the actual weapon, calm down)He never lets anyone handle it. Not even for cleaning. But your fingers skim the hilt, gentle, curious, reverent. And somehow��� it’s okay. You’re not just touching steel. You’re touching him. And he lets you.

When you act like a little girlYou scrunch your nose. Say something ridiculous. Blush like you didn’t mean to. And he watches—utterly disarmed. Because he knows exactly what you want. You want him to carry you. Wrap you up. Keep you safe. And he will—without hesitation.

When you join him on a morning runYou complain. You lag. You swear this is “not your vibe.” But you still show up. Same hour. Same route. And when you match his pace for those few precious minutes? He doesn’t say it—but he’s proud. Painfully proud.

When you share your dreams—and say “we”You’re rambling. Light spilling from your words. Talking about the future, the maybes, the next steps. But you don’t say I. You say we. And that sound? That tiny shift in grammar? It settles deep. Irrevocable. Permanent.

When you make matching braceletsYou say it’s silly. Handmade. Slightly uneven. There’s a charm shaped like a rabbit. He never takes it off. Not in combat. Not in sleep. It rests against his wrist like a pressure point—and grounds him better than anything else.

When you remember his habitsYour shopping list always includes his cinnamon. His brand of shampoo. The exact instant noodles he pretends not to love. You don’t make a show of it. You just know. And that knowing? It destroys him in the softest possible way.

When you trust him completely in bed—even when his darker side surfacesThere’s a moment—quiet, charged—when the softness shifts. He waits. Watches. Braces for resistance. But you don’t pull back. You open your hands. Arch into him. Let him take control without fear. That? That’s what breaks him. Not the pleasure. The trust.

🖤Top 10 Things That Push Sylus Into Maximum Sarcasm and Mildly Homicidal Disapproval

Your outdated, unreliable weapon Yes, he gets it. It’s vintage. It’s “standard issue.” It’s approved by the Hunters Association. Congratulations. That won’t matter when it jams and gets you killed. Every time you return one of the sleek, upgraded firearms he hand-delivers like he’s your personal armory concierge, he has to resist asking if you've already made a draft of your death wish. Alphabetically sorted. With floral headers.

You chew gum—and pop it It’s not the gum. It’s the snap. The sudden, violent pop of sugary air bubbles that hits his trauma response like a trigger. He knows it’s just a noise. His shoulder still twitches. He’s this close to reaching into your mouth and extracting the gum like a gentleman. A very sarcastic, deeply annoyed, half-feral gentleman.

You try to shake your tail (him) You use stealth tech. You block your signal. You go dark. Adorable. You’re forgetting that the very system you’re relying on was developed by his own syndicate. The only person who ever really evades Sylus is Sylus. And maybe the cat that lives under his car. But not you. Never you.

You don’t introduce him as your boyfriend to your old classmates You panicked. He gets that. You called him “a friend.” And now he’s deeply committed to the bit. For the next seven days, every time you said anything, he replied with “Of course, as your friend…” in front of waiters, dealers, and one extremely confused ambassador. You only managed to shut it down by hastily posting a photo of you two with the caption “my boyfriend and the love of my life.” Acceptable recovery. Barely.

You refuse to use his resources His private jet? Untouched. His cars? Collecting dust. His black card? Sitting unused like some kind of insult in your purse. You say you’re “independent.” He says you’re actively offending his entire lifestyle philosophy. Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to ignore an entire walk-in wardrobe prepared for you in his estate? Honestly, it’s almost admirable. Almost.

You once smoked a cigarette, and he saw it He didn’t say anything. At the time. Just looked at you. Silently. Like someone had drop-kicked a kitten in front of him. He’s not judging. He’s just picturing your lungs in an ashtray. And adding another page to your death wish list.

You speak in riddles and expect him to “get it” You want something—time away, a trip, his attention—but instead of asking, you sigh dramatically and murmur, “It’s fine. I guess some people just don’t want to escape the city with their girlfriends…” He blinks. Slow. Dangerous. “Was that a request, a riddle, or an emotional booby trap?” If you want something from him, Kitten, try using nouns and verbs. Not cryptic guilt puzzles.

You suggest another woman would be “perfect for him” It’s a joke. Offhand. Barely a breath. But your voice wavers—just slightly—and that ruins it. He doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want options. He wants you. And now, thanks to your charming lapse in self-worth, he has to waste the rest of the evening reminding you that this face, this power, this entire empire already belongs to someone. Guess who.

You sneak up on him You never mean to. But somehow, you're always the one person who slips past every alarm, every trained instinct, and ends up whispering behind him when his brain is still in kill mode. It takes everything in him to not react on pure reflex. You think it’s cute. He thinks it’s potentially catastrophic.

You don’t believe him when he says he’s fine Yes, he’s bleeding. Yes, his shirt is soaked. But he said “it’s a scratch,” and when he says that—he means it. His body heals like a myth. Your worried face? It makes something in him ache. Because the real wound isn’t on him—it’s in you, for thinking he’s anything less than unbreakable.

🖤 Top 10 Things That Make Sylus Dangerously Soft for You (And Yes, He’s Keeping Score)

When you finally spend his money It started with coffee. Small. Harmless. But the alert hit his phone and, for a moment, he genuinely wondered if his card had been stolen—until he saw your name. And something in him shifted. Not because of the cost. Please. He could buy the city it was brewed in. No, it was the fact you used it. You. Willingly. Now? You’re bolder—little dresses, shoes, jewelry you don’t need. And every time you do, he rewards it like you just proved you understand the assignment: what's his, is already yours.

When you give orders to his men like you're the boss You don’t ask. You instruct. Calm, certain, completely in charge. One of his men hesitates—just once—while you’re directing them to rescue a terrified kitten stuck in a tree. Sylus doesn’t interfere. He just watches, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth as armed professionals scramble to obey you like you're the patron saint of lost animals. Somewhere in his mind, he’s already fitted you for a crown. With tiny cat ears.

When you secretly pet Mephisto The mechanical raven used to drive you insane. Now? You’re sneaking him treats and absentminded scratches under the jaw. Sylus sees it. Says nothing. But deep down, he knows: if you’ve accepted the bird—you’ve accepted all of him. And that’s lethal. To him.

When you make him a playlist You never explain them. Just send a link and say nothing. But he listens—every time. Alone. In his car. In the bath. Eyes closed, calculating your every choice like it’s encrypted intel. Each track? A hint. A mood. A coded message from you to him. He doesn’t ask for them. He just waits for the next one. And when it arrives, he treats it like gospel.

When you leave a trail of chaos in his car Your hair on the seat. Your gum wrappers in the cup holder. The seat so close to the wheel he practically has to fold in half. And the music? A full-volume love ballad ready to ambush his eardrums at ignition. It's obnoxious. It’s inconvenient. It’s perfect. His life, now featuring you.

When you eat from his plate You swore you weren’t hungry. You said “no carbs this week.” And now? You’re stealing fries from his hand and dipping into his steak sauce like it’s your birthright. He doesn’t stop you. He just watches you chew with that look that says: mine. forever.

When you talk and talk and talk Something happens. You spiral. Words spill. Thoughts tangle. You’re not even aware you’re rambling—but he is. He listens to everything. Stores it all. Because there’s something magical about your voice when it’s unfiltered. You don’t realize it, but he falls a little harder every time you forget to censor yourself.

When you crawl into his lap while he’s working He’s in the middle of paperwork. Calculating things. Dangerous things. And suddenly—you. Right there. Knees on either side, arms around his neck, like the world’s most beautiful interruption. He tells himself he needs to finish. But his hands are already on your hips.

When you call and ask for help A jar. A stuck zipper. A ride. It doesn’t matter. You’re a trained hunter—you’ve faced things with claws, fangs, and no name. But you still call him. Because you want him. And that? That wrecks him in ways he’ll never admit. He’s already on his way before you hang up.

When you scream his name right before you come There’s a lot he’s proud of. His empire. His power. His record. But nothing—nothing—satisfies him more than the moment your voice breaks open with his name. Like prayer. Like surrender. Like he’s the only thing in your world. Which, of course… he is.

[hrrtshape]

girl interrupted... by moral responsibility: or why i don't permashift

i know a lot of people are probably wondering why i personally don't permashift. which, honestly, fair question. especially right now. the planet's falling apart, and everyone's either crying, coping, or combusting in real time. and i can permashift. i know that. it's not a capability thing. it's a decision thing. and i was just talking to @sheeezu (fantastic blog, if you haven't followed, do so right now) about it so let's open the floor. grab a snack. here's my roman empire of a reason list.

first of, i have industrial-grade imposter syndrome. like i wake up and immediately think 'you? deserve nice things? on what metaphysical basis.' i feel like i'm always sneaking into my own life like i'm gonna get caught for identity fraud. i can shift realities but i can't shift my belief that i'm undeserving of them. bpd moment. childhood trauma speedrun. like yes, i built this entire world pixel by pixel, character arc by character arc, but also. i'm clearly a fraud and any second now the universe is gonna revoke my access and repossess my dreamhouse. lol.

the fear of fucking it all up looms large. this one is self-explanatory but unfortunately not self-correcting. like i will be in my desired reality, martini in one hand, coryo in the other, and a little part of my brain will go 'what if you ruin it.' just that. no context. just a whisper in the wind like the ghost of self-sabotage past. what if i burn it down because i get scared. what if i shift to the wrong timeline. what if i never shift again. what if i change a detail and suddenly everyone speaks in riddles and my soulmate doesn't love me anymore because of xyz. this is literally not a normal fear. it's a david lynch subplot. but it lives in my head full-time

third. this shit's overwhelming. like it's not just 'fun little escapism' anymore. it's full-sensory immersive metaphysical brain-hacking with a side of soul realignment. it's big. it's beautiful. it's, frankly, mentally overstimulating. the kind of overstimulation that feels like a fire alarm made of glitter and theological contradiction. shifting is amazing. and also....... it feels like trying to download every episode of succession and gilmore girls directly into my bloodstream. like sometimes i just wanna sit on my kitchen floor and listen to mitski without my subconscious screaming 'you should be in your dr. why are you here. get up. you're the reason for your own suffering.' i love it. and it's also so much.

and then there's attachment. i know. i know. this reality??? the one currently cosplaying as a slow-motion apocalypse with bonus microplastics and fascism??? yeah. that one. i still feel attached to it. it's stupid. it's unwise. it's parasocial relationship with your own trauma. but i do. i'm tethered to this world in ways i can't entirely explain. there are people here. not perfect people. not always kind people. but people who make me laugh, who make my neurons do backflips. my friends who aren't in my dr are here. a different version of my dad is here. my thoughts echo differently in this air. even the ache feels...personal. i've suffered here. and in some feral, mythic way, i earned my joy here too. every shift feels like a miracle but this reality.... this is where i dug through the dirt for god. this is where i built a life on top of migraine dreams and mcdonald's runs and midnight breakdowns and somehow survived. this is where i cried in public and made it mean something. this is where i built lore. i'm attached because i'm storied. like this reality has narrative weight. every shifted world is real, but this one is mine. mine in the 'i bled here' way. mine in the 'i made memes through the pain' way. mine in the way a war correspondent still misses the hotel lobby they almost died in.

and….well…i don't live a horrible life. this part's awkward to say out loud because the internet's allergic to nuance and thinks honesty is a brag. but like. if we're being painfully transparent, my life is not terrible. it's not perfect. i am not some rich girl sipping cucumber water on a yacht while plotting to tax dodge with my parents' financial advisor (his name is definitely jackson. he vapes. you can feel it). no. i'm just...kind of good. i'm upper class. i have food. a home. clothes i didn't make from newspaper and a mom who can wire me 50 euros for food out of the blue and can arrange a trip to ibiza for ten days. i'm not being chased out of my house for existing. i've got medical care. mostly. sometimes. the point is, i have enough privilege to admit that my suffering is not constant. and that matters. that changes the urgency. not the need, but the urgency. shifting saved me, yes. but i'm not in daily psychic agony anymore. i can afford to stay here a little longer. i can afford to wait. and i'm saying this not to gatekeep or guilt-trip or pull some weird 'gratitude aesthetic' nonsense. i'm saying this because honesty matters. people shift for different reasons. not everyone is trying to escape a waking nightmare. some of us are just...trying to find the version of ourselves we only see in dreams. and that version is patient. she understands that privilege doesn't cancel out pain, it just reroutes it. so yeah. i'm not running. not today. maybe tomorrow. maybe next week. but for now..... i just like to stay. because i can. and because something in me still wants to make this one count.

and this is the most 'girl really?' one. but. i feel bad. like cosmically. like 'leaves money under your pillow when you shift and cries because someone else is stuck' bad. i didn't shift for four years. i was elbow-deep in forum drama and script rewrites and spiritual breakdowns and reality hunger. i remember what that felt like. the drought. the ache. the constant crushing feeling of being forgotten by the universe's algorithm. and now that i'm on the other side, i can't let it go. not in a saviour complex way (okay. maybe a little saviour complex. sue me.) but in a 'i feel like i'm abandoning people in the trench' way. i can't permashift knowing there are girls out there refreshing amino apps at 3am and crying into their wolfstar moodboards. i can't be sipping cosmos in a yacht while someone's clinging to a post like it's a rosary. shifting is freedom. and right now i'm choosing solidarity. because my guilt is catholic-level and my heart is bleeding in four dimensions.

so. that's why. i'm not afraid of the magic. i'm just also, simultaneously, tragically loyal to the mess. to the people still in the hallway. to the broken vending machine of this timeline. i'll permashift when it stops feeling like a betrayal. until then. i'm here. still shifting. still glitching. still holding the door open.

[piosplayhouse]

wait ok pio my beloved mutual pls explain nu carnival to someone whos never heard of it. like i have heard of it and ive read some gay ass smut about it thats not important dont worry about that. pls pretend im a beautiful nu virgin and present the basics. what do you actually Do in the game like what are the basic mechanics

Nu: Carnival is a game in which a kind and beautiful orphan boy named Eiden grows up to be a beautiful and kind freaky switch sex toy designer and then finds a jerk off crystal and gets isekai-ed into a fantasy land where gorgeous men around him keep going into qi deviation and need him to fuck them. The reason these guys' energy is out of whack is because they have gems attached to their bodies Steven universe style which soulbound them to Eiden's (at the beginning of the game absent and mysterious) dad 5 million bajillion years ago before the fantasy land became a kingdom. It's a wacky premise but in all seriousness the writing is spectacular, especially for a gooner gacha game. Nu: Carnival's greatest strength is undeniably the bonds between the characters who find themselves in Eiden's polycule. Eiden is a fantastically written character and it's easy to see why he deserves 11 boyfriends. The bonds between his polycule members are also great, you can tell that they all genuinely have chemistry with each other and aren't there just because of Eiden. They also all have individual motivations and tragic back stories that make it hard to dislike any character. The climatic (heheh) parts leading up to intimacy scenes are also included in this btw. The majority of them are pretty naturally written and convey a lot of emotion that further expands on the characters' multifaceted personalities. We're gooning but in a sensitive and contemplative way. There are dick sucking scenes in this game that have made me cry. Eiden also fucks himself at some point and that's also pretty hot.

The game itself sucks I cannot not recommend it enough it's horrible and will ruin your life. Worst fucking gacha in the world and gameplay itself is a constant slog of auto battling in a desperate effort to get mats to upgrade characters occasionally punctuated with sometimes fun but also mostly infuriating strategic battle strategy levels. The porn draws you in but you can't even goon while playing because you'll be too busy wanting to kill yourself over drop rates. Awesome theme songs though and there's a really beautiful animated cutscene for it. My kingdom for a full nu carnival ova

(actually the first theme song is my favorite. My friend and I were trying to find a place that had it on their karaoke machines but alas we could not 😞😞)

[rednightmare18]

I will write a post at some point about how fucking fantastic all of it is, but in case anybody missed this motif or how HUGE and revolutionary this romance is:

A few years ago (sorry sorry) I published a few chapters of a Kingdom Come Deliverance longfic called Fortune Favors the Bold. It went on (SORRY) lengthy hiatus due to general writer sluggishness and some twists in my life, but the idea was that the "boldness" theme would explicitly shake out to Henry firmly deciding to move on with life, to seek joy and thereby open himself to further grief after his incredible canon loss at Skalitz (and a fic-based incident of nearly losing Hans during a nasty separation period). It all culminated in a scene where Henry & Hans, whom I chose to depict as already romantically entangled (if somewhat ambiguously) in kcd1, finally exchange difficult verbal I-love-yous, far more difficult for Henry due to the above.

None of this big scene made it out of WIP. I'm explaining it now, before it is published, to express my amazement and gobsmacked appreciation at what Warhorse set up in kcd1.

Hans's final words in kcd1 and first in kcd2 are the "audentes fortuna iuvat," which is said so much between he and Henry through the latter that it begins to chafe the audience. Boldness in the face of overwhelming odds will yield reward and a future worthwhile.

This is the verbal indicator and tone-setter for their entire relationship arc. It is about them, specifically, growing into who they will become in life and with each other.

"Fortune favors the brave," the motto of the two lead characters and kcd2 itself, is in every way about the kiss scene and whether or not buckwild firebrand Hans, the primary mouthpiece of this motto, will feel loved enough to do the bravest thing he's ever done. It is about the culmination of embracing this mentality and the natural resolution, for good or ill, of the dynamics between these two people from the start. It is in many ways why it is so critical the cutscene deliberately breaks the kiss to show enough of Hans's face to reveal his astonished smile; bravery leads to triumph, even if it risks ruin, as in the story of the starcrossed knights he has only just shared with Henry.

It was all lovingly planted there, in kcd1. It was there so well that I picked up on it, somehow, years and years ago, even though I was joking meanly about how "Warhorse would never have the guts to really do it, it's just me reaching, they don't understand what they set up."

They did understand.

"Audentes" is overused, yes. But of course it is. It is their I love you.

And it is the tagline of the entire game.

Hooooooly shit. Audentes fortuna iuvat, Warhorse. Damn!!!!

[tillsfan]

a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹

[fbfh]

you know what I'm thinking about?? beck oliver. yeah the one from victorious first of all FUCK YOU dan schneider and I'm specifically thinking about this clip from the episode where they try to make a reality show about their high school 0:31

I really hate that beck is one of those characters like lucas friar and tristin dugray where we simply do not get more clarity on them as a person. one of the few times we get to see beck really open up and talk about WHY he's so passionate about acting and it's immediately cut off and overshadowed by how he looks. dare I say he has elle woods syndrome. "beck and jade are toxic" "beck should date cat" "beck and robbie fuck" yeah yeah you know what he REALLY NEEDS????? he needs someone that does not give a single fuck about how he looks. he needs someone who prioritizes HIM instead of his hair. yes he's pretty and he has nice hair but those are all sprinkles. he needs somone who cares about the rest of the cupcake, not just the decorations. I think the reason he thinks he likes angry girls who yell and fight with him all the time is because when he and jade fight she's yelling at him about anything other than his hair. he needs a break from constantly being objectified is my point. you know what would be great?? beck dating a screenwriter. someone who works on the scripts for the hollywood arts shows they put on. someone who hunts him down in the halls looking like they rolled out of a dumpster with sikowitz and reeks of coffee because they've been up for 36 hours to meet their deadline and finish their homework.

you are just that. you do other stuff at hollywood arts too, but there's really not a lot of script writers there, so you've found a way to pretty much corner the market and it looks FANTASTIC on your student transcript, plus you get extra credit for it, which is even better. you're wearing a hoodie that looks like you slept in it for two days (true if you had slept at all) and you're not aware of the two or three empty jet brew cups shoved into your hoodie pocket, plus the extra one you're carrying that you're almost done with.

"Beck!"

you manage to startle him a little which is surprising because he is totally unscareable. he doesn't think you've ever exchanged two words before now, he doesn't even know if he knows your name.

"I need to talk to you," you pant, a little delerious from caffeine and sleep depravation and excitement. "I finished the script for the next play-"

Beck didn't realize that a student was writing any of the shows they put on, he thought they were all lisenced or from local writers.

"It's a dystopian retelling of frankenstein with- with cyberpunk influences," you ramble, "and I need to know if you're okay playing the lead." you pant, still trying to catch your breath and not lose your train of thought.

"some pretty fucked up stuff happens and you'd have to quickly lose your morals and go from morally gray to kind of antagonistic pretty quickly..." you look up at him and hand him a script full of sticky flags. "I wanna make sure there's nothing that'll make you too uncomfortable... like I said it gets pretty fucked up, but I wrote it with you in mind for the doctor, so- just, let me know what you think."

before he can answer, you trudge into the janitor's closet and fall asleep on top of a pile of paper towels.

Beck takes the script home to look over, and he's genuinely surprised for a number of reasons. he expected to be typecast as the love interest yet again, but you want him as the antagonistic lead. it's a really complex role, and has absolutley nothing to do with how he looks. you even left a sticky note in there by accident, and he reads your scribbled handwriting. doc MUST be smwn who fully commits and dgaf if it makes them look bad or silly or unattractive. if they get self consious it ruins the char

underneith are two or three names scribbled out, then his, underlined several times. he is so genuinely shocked by this decision, and absolutely fascenated by your script. he's actually getting really excited to play a role that will challenge him for once.

the next day he meets you with the script tucked under one arm and a coffee in each hand. he hands one to you, and you thank him with a pleasantly surprised smile.

"You seem like you could use it."

"That's putting it mildly..." you mutter in agreement, and he bites back a chuckle when you remove the lid and down half the cup at once. You look at him anxiously after that, and your eyes flit between him and your script. "So... what did you think?"

"I... accept." relief floods through you. "I've already been thinking about my character and going over my lines. But why did you want me for Victor?"

You shrug a little.

"Well, you got the script like, 12 hours ago and you're already developing your portrayal of him, so that's a pretty good reason there," you chuckle, "and I... I hope this doesn't sound mean, but I don't think there are a lot of other people here who could pull off such a complex antagonistic main character."

you state, taking another sip of coffee.

"Everyone here is great, really-" you emphasize, hoping you don't sound like a dick. "I just feel like no one else could really bring the depth to him that you could. He's a horrible person, but I still want the audience to sympathize with him at times, and go wow he's a fucked up asshole at others without making it feel disjointed. I think you're really the only one who has the skills to pull that off."

honestly, if Beck had slightly less self control he would have started wailing and sobbing right then. Instead, he's determined to live up to your expectations and prove to you that your faith in him will pay off. You work pretty closley with production of the show, and with Beck. after closing night, you and Beck are still pretty close, to your pleasant surprise. his friends are a little curious why Beck suddenly is spending all his free time with one of those kids in their class who never talks or says anything, but he seems... happy. he did in fact fall first, and he definitely fell harder. he falls even more when months pass and he realizes you are still too adorably oblivious to realize how he feels.

[i-like-blue-eyed-robots]

Wheatley has ADHD

It’s a common enough occurrence that it probably deserves its own trope — aliens, robots and any other nonhuman character almost always end up with autistic traits. It’s because writers take a nonhuman character and go ‘well, how do I make this character register as nonhuman, but still human enough that audiences will like them?’ And the answer is making them neurodivergent. I’m not personally inclined to say that this is a good or a bad thing, though I can see how it might be taken that way.

However, some authors like myself do it intentionally, to demonstrate how neurodivergent people can end up ostracized.

Some examples of common traits that are autistic-coded and writers give to nonhuman characters are as follows:

-difficulty understanding metaphor, sarcasm or exaggeration

-overly blunt in communication

-unawareness of others emotions/incorrect reaction to said emotions

-difficulty realizing their own emotions

-need for a strict schedule in order to be happy

Of course, there’s more out there, but I’ve seen these pop up quite a lot.

However, the Portal series’ fantastic writing team did not follow these stereotypes with their robots, and that’s what I would like to cover today.

I would go over GLaDOS in relation to this idea, like she clearly understands sarcasm, but she doesn’t quite fit for reasons that would be obvious to anyone who’s played through Portal 2. I’m here to talk about Wheatley, the other main robot we get to know in Portal 2.

Wheatley is not autistic coded. He has no problem speaking to strangers or making eye contact. He enjoys sarcasm almost as much as GLaDOs, and so on and so forth.

However, Wheatley is most definitely neurodivergent-coded, and it’s fascinating because for once, maybe for the only time ever in popular media that I’ve ever noticed, a robot is adhd-coded instead of being autistic-coded.

What do I mean by that? First of all, if you haven’t finished Portal 2 go do it now. It’s relatively cheap on Steam and it’s amazing. Moving on — it all stems from what we’re told Wheatley is, during the betrayal scene with GLaDOS. Now to preface this, GLaDOS is a liar. You can take most of what she says with a grain of salt. But, what she says is all we have officially to go off of.

To add further context to this line, the personality cores or “Aperture Science Personality Constructs” (the line of robots that Wheatley is a part of) were specifically built in order to be plugged into GLaDOS’ systems to slow her down and to keep her from killing everyone in Aperture. In the first Portal game, Chell, the player character, incinerates the four ‘successful’ cores that supposedly were the last ones needed to stop GLaDOS. However, given that the character has to travel through an empty facility to do so, it’s clear that they weren’t nearly as successful as the engineers had thought. Later, as core after core was built and none of them worked to stop GLaDOS, Aperture was needing robot maintenance of some kind since all of their human faculty were being killed, fired due to financial ruin, and/or quitting, and so the personality constructs were repurposed to try and keep the facility from falling apart.

Aside from GlaDOS and Wheatley, we don’t see any “non-corrupted” cores. And even both of them are corrupted, with GLaDOS being 80% corrupted and Wheatley assumedly 25%, after doing some quick math of the boss fight. This would normally affect my ability for confident analysis, but luckily in this case I don’t need them to prove that good ol Wheatley is adhd-coded.

Because right from the get-go, “generating an endless stream of terrible ideas” sounds pretty damn adhd to me, as someone who has both inattentive and hyperactive adhd myself. Now, that’s not to say every idea a person with adhd has is a bad one. That’s not even the case with Wheatley, despite it being what we’re told, because again, GLaDOS is an unreliable narrator. It’s Wheatley’s ideas that keep her from killing Chell with turrets or neurotoxin. He’s the one who gets Chell to dismantle those systems. Those are clearly not bad ideas.

But what about other adhd traits? Having an endless stream of ideas isn’t even on a symptom list of being adhd, it’s usually just a side effect of everything else going on. Well, Wheatley has plenty of them.

Hyperactive-type adhd symptoms include but are not limited to;

-fidgeting

-excessive physical movement

-excessive talking

-impulsive behavior

-restlessness/impatience

Oh but how can a robot ball fidget or have excessive physical movement, you may ask. Well. This is the most expressive ball I have ever seen in my life. Wheatley is constantly moving, shifting panels, popping his eye out, spinning in his casing and so forth. The excessive talking one is easy, my younger brother (also an adhd yapper, who has no room to talk) was trying to throw Wheatley over the railing into the bottomless pit beneath Aperture “because he was yapping” too much. This is unusual for a robot character (outside of the Portal series) whereas they tend to speak when spoken to. Wheatley is generally impulsive, but this is especially noticeable when he’s hooked up to the facility in the GLaDOS chassis. After PotatOS calls him a moron, he proceeds to punch her and Chell into the abyss below without thinking about it, reacting out of anger until he realizes they’re about to drop, right before they do. Interestingly, that sort of impulsive rage reaction is more often seen in monster characters, like perhaps a werewolf situation. It sort of adds to the framing that now Wheatley is in control of the facility, he has become something monstrous. Now, judging his patience level accurately is difficult, given that in the beginning he’s in a high-stress, deadly situation and later, when he’s in the chassis, he’s being affected by symptoms of drug withdrawal. However, he is impatient, such as when he’s playing the recorded sound of knocking on a door at the beginning. Granted, he’ll go on ‘knocking’ forever because it’s necessary for the story, but he speaks up every couple of minutes asking if you/Chell are going to open the door already. Again, this is unique for a robot character, as they tend to wait on a player or another character’s actions before responding to it, rather than initiating.

Impressively, these are not all the symptoms Wheatley demonstrates. There is another form of adhd, known as Inattentive-type adhd. The symptoms can include the following;

-Short attention span

-Overlooking details

-Careless mistakes

-Inability to stick to tedious tasks

-Difficulty organizing tasks

-Constantly changing tasks

-Difficulty listening to and carrying out instructions

For having a short attention span, this is again, difficult to determine for Wheatley in a normal setting. In the beginning he’s mostly able to focus, but he’s in a life-or-death scenario. However, he does ramble on about things that have no relevance to what he and the player character are doing, such as when he’s telling the player character about the many jobs he’s had around Aperture and been subsequently released from. He definitely has issues overlooking details, such as when he and Chell are supposed to be dismantling the neurotoxin facilities. While he’s busy ‘hacking’ a computer that may or may not even regulate the facility in the first place, Chell dismantles the generator and he doesn’t even realize she’s doing it at first, because he’s distracted listing off the hardware of the computer. As for careless mistakes, again, this could be simply the situation he’s in, but he definitely makes them. Like when he’s transporting the relaxation chamber in the first chapter, he runs into an unbelievable amount of other relaxation chambers, tearing Chell’s apart. Or even when he’s supposed to be guiding her around Aperture but he dips into wrong corners and has to recorrect. He most visibly has difficulty with tedious tasks when he’s in the chassis, as the facility is literally falling apart because he didn’t bother reading the manual or taking care of the massive amount of upkeep the facility requires. But again, he’s suffering symptoms of drug withdrawal as well that could be affecting his ability to do that. However, given his descriptions of his job loss, mentioned above, we can gather that this is likely an issue he had before ever being a part of the core transfer. This also is in line with difficulty organizing tasks. As for constantly changing tasks, again, he has somewhat better focus in the beginning because if he doesn’t he’ll die, and later he’s exceptionally distracted by a need to test. But even when he should be consumed with the need to test, and he does watch Chell for most of it, he does stop watching randomly at times to do… Who knows what. When it should be the only thing he can focus on. As for difficulty listening to and carrying out instructions, again, the facility falls apart and Wheatley kept being fired for similar, if not the same reasons.

So. That covers basic symptoms and how Wheatley fits pretty much all of them. But, a lesser known side effect of adhd is that it can easily lead to the development of other neurodivergent disorders such as anxiety and depression. Adhd is also linked to something known as emotional dysregulation. Wheatley clearly exhibits signs of anxiety. He’s terrified of dying, and says as much at several points. Not only is he especially scared of dying, but he’s scared of judgment, too. He’s constantly trying to seem more important or smarter than he is, and even though Chell is a silent protagonist, when he takes over the facility before being affected by the testing withdrawals, he assumes she’s been secretly plotting against him the entire time. Depression is more difficult to spot in Wheatley, as he’s not lethargic, but, again, a high-stakes situation can allow a person to mask their symptoms for a brief period out of self-preservation.

However, I do want to point out he clearly displays emotional dysregulation, and not in the way one might expect from a robot character. Wheatley is exceptionally sensitive to criticism. When GLaDOS begins her spiel about him being an intelligence dampening sphere, he moves as far away he can from her, turning his back so he doesn’t have to look at her. He even goes so far as to say “Not listening!” while she’s saying it. Then when she calls him a moron, he reacts violently, in a way he hadn’t so far in the game before that moment. He smashes her through the glass of the elevator and then, when she proceeds to call him a moron again, is when he smashes PotatOS and Chell into the pit. However, he doesn’t even need to even be actively insulted to react to perceived insults as just as much of a threat to his psyche. As mentioned earlier, despite Chell being a silent protagonist, and in some ways because Chell is a silent protagonist, Wheatley assumes that she’s been plotting against him from the start. Her perceived attacks against him are most especially notable during the boss fight. He points out that she’s always quiet, assuming that she’s “silently judging” him. He points out that she didn’t catch him when he fell off of his management rail in the beginning, and that she didn’t warn him that she was the one who killed GLaDOS.

All in all, Wheatley is a beautifully three-dimensional character, not in spite of being a robot, but rather, in some ways, because of it.

[fantastic-nonsense]

As a Wonder Woman fan, what's your exact opinion of Yara Flor? I see she's been received quite negatively in some parts of the internet (namely South American portions).

This ask is making me once again think about how every single piece of Yara Flor concept art is god-tier and the concept of introducing "an Amazon from the Amazon" was absolutely galaxy-brained and then DC just RUINED it by making her an adult from Idaho and doing absolutely nothing with her supposedly indigenous Brazilian mythological roots.

I'm actually super angry about how Yara was handled. Yara was the first new major Wonderfam character in 20+ years, had a ton of hype and reader buy-in, and had a fantastic initial concept; she was a desperately needed new legacy character and DC just fumbled it in every way possible. Yara could have been a vital addition to the lore, especially since the core Wonderfam is so heavily white and we've needed a new Wonder Girl for ages. But instead of creating that added dimension, we got......that.

I just...there was SO MUCH MOMENTUM AND EXCITEMENT for her, and then she absolutely bombed because no one at DC sat down and planned out who she was or what her story was going to be, then gave her introduction solo to a woman whose lack of research and care is offensively tacky at best and outright racist at worst. Joelle Jones' awful writing for Yara's initial solo combined with the bait-and-switch of introducing her not as an indigenous teenage girl from Brazil (as advertised) but as an adult woman from Idaho completely torpedoed Yara's hype and sustainability as a character.

Jones failed to define who Yara is, what she cares about, and why she matters to the rest of the Wonderfam despite having 12 issues and an event comic to do so. She also didn't do the research and DC refused to put someone on the book who would or had lived experience, and it shows. Yara's backstory was bungled horrendously, her lore is offensive, convoluted, and contradictory to the already established Amazonian lore, and she has no real, lasting connection to either the Themyscirans or the tribe she supposedly hails from. All of which were huge mistakes.

The Esquecidas (the Amazonian splinter tribe Yara is theoretically from) have successfully been integrated into the larger Amazonian mythos (thankfully), but Yara herself is just kinda there because she's effectively a dead character. There's nowhere for her to go since her introduction was fumbled so badly. I'm sure there's a lot of scrapped plans sitting around at DC while someone tries to figure out how to make her into a workable character, but at the moment she's basically unsalvagable as-is and needs a bottom-up revamp.

tl;dr most people, including me, like the concept of Yara. We like the execution a lot less, for a variety of reasons (mostly racism and cultural ignorance issues, but also narrative incoherence and a lot of missed opportunities). She's technically fixable, but she's fundamentally not sustainable as she's been built thus far.

anyway, forever thinking about the sheer wasted potential of not introducing Mainverse!Yara as a young teenager so she could actually reasonably be titled "Wonder Girl," be in Jon and Damian's age group to give her a natural group of friends, and have a natural narrative path forward for her stories

[felassan]

July 22nd DA:TV Game Informer article (their last DA:TV coverage article) on Everything we Know about Bellara - cliff notes:

Bellara is Dalish elf (played by Jee Young Han as we know). There might be more to her than meets the eye

"Now, with two of [the elven] gods on the loose, magic has poured back into the world in a big way"

CC is expansive

Bellara is the first companion we will recruit (Neve and Harding join automatically it seems)

She is a mage, a Veil Jumper (who she represents), quirky, energetic, effervescent, optimistic, bubbly, academic, a tinkerer, an explorer of ancient elven ruins

John Epler wrote her and led her development, and collective team effort from lots of departments brought her to life

The BW team really love her

Gary McKay quote: "I love Bellara, I think she's fantastic. I see people that I know in her and so that's how she really resonates with me. I love the whole tinkerer aspect to her. It was a collective to bring that character to life. It was everything from the writers, to the editors, the animators, to character modelers, to the texturing, to how we light her. I'm really proud of that character."

She is a good choice in combat for both support and elemental combos. She starts out as a support character, but can be built in other ways

She attacks with a bow at range using electrically-charged arrows. She can also cast time-slow and healing spells (she can be built to heal Rook autonomously). She does this by channeling magical energy into her gauntlet

As such she leans into electrical damage

Damage type matters a lot in the strategy and tactics of combat

She can unleash a devastating vortex to pull enemies into an electrical storm (an AOE spell)

She can debuff enemies with the shocked affliction, which makes them take passive damage

Corinne Busche quote: "Oh my goodness, she is amazing. [The Veil Jumpers] investigate the ancient ruins of Arlathan. Everything about her character as a mage leans into that, but she also challenges the kind of archetypal idea of a mage."

The Veil Jumpers journey through Arlathan where the ancient empire used to exist and left a lot of artifacts and magical technology behind when it disappeared

Bellara represents this yearning to find the truth of who the elves were after they lost their magic, immortality and a lot of their history

"they still left a lot of their artifacts and a lot of their, for lack of a better term, magical technology behind"

John Epler quote: "A lot of what they know of their past is based on myth, it's based on rumor. Bellara is a knowledge seeker. She wants to find out what's true, what's not; she wants to find the pieces of who the elves used to be and really understand what their story was, where they came from, as well as figure out where they're going next, and find a future for the elves. And within the context of The Veilguard, she joins the team, first of all, to help stop the gods because Bellara feels at least partially responsible since they are elven gods, but also to maybe find a little bit more of who they used to be. Because again, you're dealing with these elves that were around millennia ago that have now reemerged into the world, and who better to teach her who the elves used to be than them."

Magic's place in the world in DA:TV differs from prior games. In Tevinter and other spaces in DA:TV it's much more present by definition and the lore (though the devs wanted to make sure magic didn't violate previously-established lore rules)

Solas is a "determined and tragic character" who "tends to wallow". [nb, these are quotes from the article]. in contrast, Bellara has seen a lot of tragedy in her backstory (we will see this as we get into her arc), but instead of wallowing, she has forced herself to push past it. "She looks at her regrets, and she tells herself, 'I don't want to feel regret'

John: "Whereas again, Solas tends to wallow in his to a large degree. And it allows us to create a very big differentiation. Part of it is also because Solas is an ancient elf, whereas Bellara is a Dalish elf, but she just sees a problem and wants to solve it. She feels a tremendous amount of responsibility to her people [...] to the Dalish, and to the Veil Jumpers, and that drives her forward. That said, she does have her moments where she has doubt, she has moments where she has a more grim outlook, and there are moments where you realize that some of her sunny, optimistic outlook is kind of a mask that she puts on to hide the fact that she's hurting, she's in pain. But in general, she doesn't see any benefit to wallowing in those regrets."

[source]

[anontheghost]

So... What is the deal with Blitz's and Moxxie's upbringing?

Let's start by saying the obvious: Blitz’s and Moxxie’s families are almost exact mirrors to each other: They both have terrible, greedy fathers who just enjoy making their lives miserable and amazing dead mothers who we know nothing about except their cause of death and how much they are missed by their sons. 

The only significant distinctions are that Moxxie's story is splattered with glossy mafia paint and that his mother was drowned while he was still a very young child. On the other hand, Blitz's mother, Tilla, died when he was a teenager and was burned to death. The rest? Pretty much the same.

However, the similarities between their backstories are not really the problem; after all, in real life, we can find people who lived through similar traumas and that is a pretty interesting aspect to explore in fantastical stories as well. 

Many other shows have done it incredibly well (Bojack Horseman) but Helluva Boss failed in that department. 

The very interesting family dynamics were only bought at the surface level, not explored in any meaningful way except to give the characters “cheap trauma moments” that could potentially get ruined by either the insertion of out of place comedy or never mentioned again. 

How am I supposed to treat Crimson’s abuse of Moxxie as something serious when the minute before dildos popped out the walls for a joke? How did Blitz’s guilt over the fire and his mother’s death truly affect his relationships—romantic or otherwise? Was it all just a narrative plot to drag the Stolitz charade for as many episodes as possible? Heck, we do not even see Blitz and Mooixe interact more about their shared trauma! Or about how much they missed their mothers.

It is a little depressing because, despite knowing nothing about Moxxie and Blitz's mothers, we, the viewer, are expected to care about them and see their significance. Instead we are left with a million questions that will probably never have an answer. 

Were they really good parents or are their sons only remembering the good parts of their relationship because they are dead? 

How did they truly influence their kids? Did Moxxie’s love for musical theater come from his mother? Did Blitz’s fascination for horses be because of Tilla or was it someone else?

How was their relationship with their husbands and why did they stay even after the marriage went south? What brought them together in the first place? Because, in all honesty, both couples just don't seem compatible in any way, that one just can help but ask how did everything worked.

Sadly, we can only speculate. 

So, without further due, these are my speculations. Part of the great rewrite that I am doing of the series. Because sometimes terrible writing decisions just move my creative juices in the right direction. 

Tilla and Cash Buckzo.  “I do love you, as much as I am capable of loving anyone, which is never enough.”

What would have happened if Princess Carolyn and Bojack Horseman ignored all the red flags in their relationship and chose to get married anyway? That wouldn’t have been good, but that is exactly what happened to Tilla and Cash Buckzo—the result was a messy marriage where love could not overcome their different views on life and incompatible personalities.

So... why did they stay in a marriage that was not working? Simple, a divorce would mean financial ruin for both of them.

Let me explain. 

(Worldbuilding note: How marriage functions and how people in Hell generally view it is one aspect of the Hellaverse that truly baffles me. To avoid confusion, each ring in this revision will have its own set of marital norms and perspectives.)

(In the Greed Ring, marriage is nothing more than another business transaction and is treated as such. Two individuals may absolutely hate each other, but if the marriage will benefit them economically, then they will go through with it.)

The sole compelling argument for Cash and Tilla's marriage was that it was the wisest course of action to maintain and save their respective livelihoods. Imps are not permitted to own companies (as I stated in the Stolitz Non-Romance rewrite.) and in the Greed Ring, Mammon owns ALL of the entertainment industry (circuses included) and he will not hesitate to shut down a circus if it is not bringing the profit.

The small circuses Cash and Tilla were supervising were on the brink of bankrupsy, so what better solution than to marry each other and combine their assets? It will give them more time to survive.

In hindsight, their plan worked perfectly; Tilla and Cash were able to build up themselves financially, and using their combined business talents, they were able to expand their new big renovated circus and turn in a profit that would keep Mammon off their backs. 

They were great business partners, but as a couple, they lacked a lot. 

They did occasionally have tender moments, but they were squandered by arguments, lengthy silences, and extremely uncomfortable dinners. At one point, they even began sleeping in different beds, just to avoid fighting. Everybody who knew them could see that they were just not good for each other and could barely tolerate the other presence.

This begs the question: How did they manage to have Blitz and Barbie?

The decision to have a kid was straightforward and, like their marriage, based on business. They wanted a successor to take over their responsibilities when they died, as it was something now needed as the circus grew. So one night, they decided to get drunk and just get it over with.

But, to the surprise of themselves and everyone else, Tilla and Cash were their best selves throughout the pregnancy. 

During those four months that the pregnancy lasted, Cash and Tilla acted like a happy couple, anxiously waiting for the arrival of their beloved baby. They no longer fought; they were just too busy happily imagining a future where the three of them would be happy while preparing for their child.

Maybe everything would be okay; their relationship could only get better from now on, right? Once their beautiful little girl arrives, they will be a complete family of three with no intentions of adding more. 

Yikes.

In their defence, there are few medical facilities available to imps, and when they attended the controls, the physicians informed them that they would only be having one child, Barbie.

Their budget and plans were severely ruined by Blitz's unexpected arrival because they were only ready to provide full care for one baby, not two. If Mammon kept the majority of the profits, how would they be able to buy two of everything? 

They would endure a long period of hardship and didn’t they enter this marriage to prevent just that?!

Tilla, being the mother and the one who gave birth, accepted this change, promising to love both children equally; sadly, Cash didn’t.

It didn’t take too long before they started fighting again, even if it was in front of their kids. As you can imagine, growing up with parents who fought even for the most minimal of problems leaves a long-lasting impression on a child and how they will handle their own relationships in the future. 

To this day, Barbie still has problems telling her girlfriends when something is wrong or is upsetting her. On the other hand, Blitz gets overwhelmed when he notices things going south in a relationship and leaves it all together. 

Things didn’t really improve much as the twins grew up. 

Sure, the family had their relative moments of peace, but Cash only paid real love and attention to Barbie, being the child he really wanted while completely ignoring Blitz. Tilla, upset about this but knowing that Cash won’t change, tried to give more attention to her son, accidentally ignoring her daughter’s needs.

Yes, Tilla was not a “perfect, angelic mother," canon portrayed her as. If anything, she was a little bit overbearing when it came to Blitz, as she felt she needed to make up for his father’s abandonment. She genuinely believed that Barbie didn’t need her as much, and the girl liked to spend more time with her father anyway, who needed to train her to take over the circus.

At this point, their family was divided into two separate families that just happened to live in the same house: one consisted of a kind but overprotective mother and her son; the other, a strict but understanding father and his daughter/heir. The only point in which Tilla and Cash interacted was when they worked on the circus, or when they were fighting for the most minimal things. 

Their family dynamic was mostly like that... until Tilla died.

Blitz remembers only the good moments he spent with her, looking at her actions and life with rose-colored glasses of love. For him, Tilla was the perfect mother who basically could do no wrong. 

However, if you ask Barbie, she’ll say that while she is sad that her mother passed away, she is unable to truly feel devastated since she never knew the woman well enough. Barbie is even a bit resentful for the times Tilla chose to spend time with Blitz instead of her.

And with Cash... How would you think Bojack would react if PC died before him? 

Now… what about Moxxie’s family?

Crimson and Belia (Name I am giving Moxxie’s mom)

"You better grow up to be something great, to make up for all the damage you done."

One particular thing that I noticed about Crimson is how young he looks despite being Moxxie’s dad. If I knew nothing about Helluva Boss and someone showed me a picture of those two, I would 100% believe they are siblings, not father and son.

While we can attribute this to Vivzie's inability to draw older men, why not play with this?

Let's set up the stage.

When Moxxie entered the picture, Crimson and Belia were just seventeen years old and not even dating. However, I suppose that when you are a careless teenager, the consequences of forgetting the condom don't truly hit you until something goes wrong.

As one may expect, Crimson was not happy with the news and was even more angry when Belia told him that she wanted to keep the baby and sustained her ground no matter how many times Crimson told her to get rid of the pregnancy. Why not? They were both fucking teenagers, just fooling around and he had no intentions of becoming a father, at least not this young! What was truly stopping her?

Nobody truly knows why Belia chose to keep her son to this day. 

When alive, she would tell you without a doubt that she loved her child from the first moment and couldn't bear to let him go, even in the face of less than perfect circumstances. But Moxxie hasn't believed that version of the story in a very long time. 

Moxxie now thinks that the main reason why Belia had him was because she didn't want to endure the awful and harsh conditions of an Imp Health Center. Due to the horrible way the doctors treated the imp patients, lack of medicine and equipment, most imps avoided those places like the plage.

Unfortunately, sick imps had no other choice but to go to the centers for treatment. Because if an imp even dares to step a hoof on the more well equipped hospitals in Sloth or Lust, they would be immediately kicked out no matter the emergency.

For more serious issues, wealthy imps (like Crimson's family) would hire a private physician. However, Belia was aware that Crimson would never spend that kind of money on her. 

Or maybe Belia didn’t want to give Crimson the satisfaction of getting out of his responsibilities. 

When Crimson's own father learned about the, at that point, already advanced pregancy, he forced Crimson and Belia to get married. Given the Knowlastname family's significant power in Greed's imp neighborhoods, Crimson's status as an unmarried young father would be viewed as a shameful scandal.

Belia only consented to the marriage because she had nowhere else to go. When her parents found out that their seventeen-year-old daughter was expecting, they were so disappointed that they disinherited and prohibited her from ever returning home.

(Later, when I rewrite Exes and Oh's, I will go into more detail about what Crimson’s family does in the Greed Ring. They are still involved in “less than legal” practices and loan sharking, but is a little bit different than in canon since now I based the Greed Ring in the entertainment industry.)

Of course, as one may expect, things in that marriage went south real fast. 

Every time Crimson looked at Moxxie and Belia, he saw nothing but the two demons who took away his carefree teenhood together with the respect of his father, and with each passing year, he just became more and more cruel. At one point, he simply started physically abusing his wife, who always put herself as a buffer between Moxxie and Crimson.

If Belia dared to raise her voice against her husband, Crimson would merely tell her that the opportunity to leave him went away the minute she decided to bring “that brat” into hell without his permission. Now she was just reaping what she sowed.

Being physically and mentally abused by her husband (who, as a bonus, also turned everyone in the household against her) took a toll on Belia’s mental health. She still wanted to be the best mother she could be, but how can you raise a child in an environment where everybody sees them as the enemy? When your mind makes your body so heavy that getting out of bed becomes an impossible task?

More than once, Belia considered taking her son and moving back to Wrath. But then, to where? Her parents didn’t want to see her; she lost contact with her friends, and since she never finished school, she had no hireable qualities. How would she support herself and Mooxie if she decides to leave? Being a single imp mother in hell is not easy!

It was impossible! At this point, she just needed to endure. 

She will not let Crimson win; she will not let that man break her and Moxxie. While Crimson was definitely stronger than her, putting on a smile after a beating that sent Crimson into a frustrated frenzy was all she needed to feel she had won, even if her body stated otherwise.

There were also the times she and Moxxie went on hikes together, pretending that they were going on a grand adventure as far away from Crimson as possible. Being happy when Crimson didn’t want them to was the little act of rebellion she needed to stay sane.

However, Belia’s breaking point came after Moxxie’s seventh birthday, just a few months after Crimson’s father died, when her “beloved” husband brought home another pregnant imp. 

Belia was no idiot; she knew that her husband had been cheating on her for years, but she never said anything because she didn’t care enough to do it. So, Crimson had a side piece? big deal, she stopped loving him a long time ago. 

However, it was too much to bear to watch Crimson, a guy she believed to be utterly cruel, be a loving and caring partner to this imp and be so thrilled about the birth of their cherished child.

I mean, when you witness the same man who repeatedly denigrated your son, cursed and beat you for being pregnant, joyfully decorating a nursery while choosing baby names and spoiling his new partner, whom he never raised his voice at, it can and will break something in you. 

Ultimately, what could be worse? Accepting that your partner will never change? Or realizing that you were never worth the positive change they could bring about?

What did she do wrong?

Moxxie still doesn’t know what happened to his mom; what is certain is that one day he woke up and she was not there. While part of him is sure that Crimson killed her so he could marry his new partner, there is a part of him, small but loud, that tells him that Belia abandoned him at the mercy of his father. 

Why would she not? Moxxie knows that he looks a lot like Crimson, so it was possible that at some point, his poor mother couldn’t look at him anymore without remembering her abuser. He is also familiar with the sad reality that, if Belia tried escaping with him, the possibilities of re-doing her life with a kid on her toe would have been very slim.

Not to mention impossible.

After his mother disappeared, Moxxie became a ghost in his own house. Apart from giving orders and degrading him, Crimson was more focused on his new family and new children to “waste energy” in a son he never wanted. While Moxxie’s step-parent was not physically violent, their constant degrading of Belia and their attempts to erase all trace of her existence really put Moxxie on edge.

Sadly, he couldn’t say anything because the first and only time Mooxie tried to go against their wishes, Crimson put a stop to that real fast. 

Moxxie had to see firsthand how Crimson was a true, loving father to his stepsiblings. He listened to them constantly, never yelled at them, and never struck them—things he never did with his first kid. He also made sure to teach them how their big brother was nothing but a failure and to stay clear of him since “wimpyness” could be contagious.

Moxxie wishes he could know them better.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o00

And this is all for today. I will give more information about Mooxie’s family (as well as his relationship with Chaz) when I rewrite Exes and Oh’s. Remember that these are mostly my first draft thoughts and can and probably will be changed for the final product. 

I hope you enjoy! I love when you comment!

[sleepingdeath-light]

black sapphire cookie smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (12/02/25), rinnstar (17/02/25) & anonymous (20/02/25)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; black sapphire cookie

outline ; “hello!!! i know that he quite literally just came out, but if you ever plan on writing about him then,,, can i please request black sapphire cookie smut, preferably with a fem reader? the new story got me in SHAMBLES for him (im 19 btw!)”

&

“Hii, can I ask for Black Sapphire cookie nsfw hcs? (Also sorry for resending the request, but I resend it to confirm that you can see I'm not a minor.) also have a great day :3”

&

“I absolutely love your work and I’m so hype to finally catch the requests open!

Black Sapphire Cookie w/ gender neutral S/O headcanons? (Relationship/Fluff + Smut) I’m 19!

Thank you for considering mine!

Also if I could stay anonymous ty!! ^^”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, switch!black sapphire cookie, brat!black sapphire cookie, edging, teasing, various forms of pain play mentioned, bondage, exhibitionism, facial, humiliation

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

black sapphire cookie is, first and foremost, a massive and very versatile switch. he’s happy to act as your dominant or as your submissive (though he only make it easy for you no matter what role he’s filling), but no matter what he does have a distinct preference for topping

sure he can bottom and will if you beg him really really nicely, but it’s still just not his favourite thing to do

even when he’s acting as your submissive in bed black sapphire cookie refuses to make things easy for you, taking advantage of his extensive knowledge of your person to figure out exactly which buttons to push and when in order to get the exact response from you that he wants. in other words: he’s a fucking brat

and when he’s acting as your dom he alternates between being an endearing tease and just straight up mean. he’s vocal, he’s touchy, he knows exactly what to say to drive you up the wall, and he always seems to know exactly what you want him to do without you needing to tell him… but he will refuse to give you what you want until you beg for it

asshole

a solid 90% of what comes out of his mouth in the bedroom is teasing and/or somewhat degrading remarks that are intended to get a rise out of you (either to frustrate you into roughing him up a bit when he’s subbing, or to tease you until you’re a teary-eyed flustered mess when he’s domming)… and the remaining 10% is moans and groans and cries that are just broken enough to perfectly toe the line between obnoxiously loud and arousingly shameless

loves to edge and be edged, but he gets a particular sort of pleasure from denying you your orgasm over and over again until you’re literally sobbing and begging for him to let you cum… you just look so cute when you’re crying and frustrated that he can’t help himself sometimes

(and your watery broken voice crying out for his touch and attention and his cock may or may not be his favourite sound in the world… but that’s another point entirely)

he can put on a fantastic show of begging for you (your body, your touch, your mouth on his cock, etc.) and he does come across as convincing most of the time, the only way to tell whether or not he’s being genuine is to look at his lips and his fingers — if his lips are twitching ever so slightly downward, like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from frowning, and if his hands are starting to flex and tremble where he’s holding them, then he’s actually much more desperate for you than he’s letting on and is toning down his begging to spare his ego a bit

his punishments for you are always on the more elaborate side, bordering on performative at times while still managing to be at least somewhat pleasurable for you both: suspension paired with degradation and ruined orgasms, making you hump his shoe in front of an ‘audience’ (illusions) while he recites your each and every infraction like a judge informing a defendant of their final sentence, using you as a glorified cocksleeve and pumping you full of cum while refusing to let you finish even once until he’s satisfied, stripping and restraining you and making you cum over and over again on a toy until you’re sobbing out apologies and begging for the real thing, etc. — he’s very creative

as touched upon previously, black sapphire cookie is very comfortable with bondage — both when it comes to safely and securely restraining and suspending you, and when it comes to being restrained himself — and he has a particular knack for being able to keep the act of bondage particularly exciting. he’ll bring out new equipment (stretchers, hooks, chains), try out new knots, bind you in new positions, incorporate other kinks, and so on — needless to say things never get boring or stale with him

has no problems with putting on a show for you — or with you, as long as the audience is only made up of illusions — and gets really into it when he does. like he fully leans into his persona as an entertainer, makes all of his reactions more dramatic, maintains eye contact with you to make sure you’re watching everything he does, and makes sure to involve his audience in his performance (asking questions, calling out to you, ‘begging’ you to come help him out, and so on). he’s… really good at keeping an audience invested, to say the least

the most sexually sensitive parts of his body are his stomach and his hips, but he always tries his best to play off any reactions he gives to you touching/groping/kissing those areas as something done in jest or at least something he’s exaggerating for your sake. don’t believe him, though, those high-pitched moans and whimpers are 100% genuine

when you go down on him his favourite place to finish is on your face — bonus points if you lick it all up afterwards, but he doesn’t mind what you do after he’s cum since its just the sight that gets him going. and when he goes down on you he much prefers having you straddle and ride/fuck his face over anything else (and he swallows everything you have to offer, but that’s mainly due to him being a bit of a show-off in bed)

loves to experiment with new positions to the point where he’ll just randomly switch things up in the middle of having sex with you, but the full nelson and doggy style both have a particularly special place in his heart

loves the way you look in his clothes, especially his jacket and tie, and if you manage to catch him off guard by wearing his stuff and nothing else then he’ll be all but stumbling over his own feet in his efforts to get to you and ruin you

[the-fiction-witch]

I'm Terrified

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Lady Y/n Targaryen (Jace's Wife) Rating - 13 (Mentions Of Pregnancy and Pregnancy loss Fears) Word Count - 1020

Jacaerys stood in the dimly lit nursery, his figure rigid as he had been for nearly a month. Each day felt like an eternity, consumed by the demanding study of High Valyrian and the rigorous training sessions enforced by his mother. Now, in this moment of solitude, he found himself drawn to the wooden crib. He leaned forward, resting his palms against the smooth wood, his gaze fixed on the delicate mobile that hung overhead. The dragons and seahorses swayed gently, casting ghostly shadows that danced across the room’s pale walls. Jacaerys felt a lump form in his throat as a deep sense of anxiety swirled within him, rendering him nearly incapable of sleep.

The room felt surreal and dreamlike as if it existed in a fragile bubble that might shatter the moment he closed his eyes. It was a place filled with hope and trepidation, a fragile sanctuary that whispered of futures. He swallowed hard, desperate to hold onto the reality before him, fearing that letting go if only for a moment, might erase everything he cherished.

Lady Y/n glided gracefully through the ancient stone halls of Dragonstone, her long, flowing gown trailing behind her. She cradled her prominent baby bump with both hands, the gentle movement a soothing comfort as she navigated the dimly lit corridors. Each step echoed softly. After a few moments of searching, she found her husband exactly where he had spent nearly every day for the past few months. A smile brightened her face as she entered, the sight of him bent over a small cradle bringing her tremendous joy. "There you are," she said softly, the sound almost a whisper, "I've been looking for you."

"I'm here." he was, but not in body. No in mind.

"Are you alright, my darling?" She asked,

He opened his mouth, to speak as usual. ‘I'm fine.’ But the words failed him and he turned around, eyes slightly red. "No I'm not," he confessed,

She slowly stepped closer, "what is it? Whatever is the matter?" She asked offering her hand,

He was silent, but took her hand, placing it over his hammering heart. "I'm terrified."

She nodded and forced a smile, "It's normal to be scared,"

He looked at her stomach, a shaking hand reaching towards it. "For so long I have held a sword in my hand, stood against fire-breathing dragons and faced down my own family with blades at my throat." His hand splayed over her stomach, "But I am frightened of something so small."

"Why are you frightened of him? He will cause you no harm at least until he’s old enough to hold a sword to you." She laughed, "He will love you as you did your father."

"What if I don't know how to be a Father." he protested. His eyes moved from the stomach then to hers, he could see his own fear reflected back at him in her eyes, "What if I ruin everything, ruin HIM."

"… Jacaerys." She sighed, taking his hand and kissing it, "this is our first child, we are going to make mistakes somewhere, somehow there is no way to avoid everything. All we can do… Is our best."

He let out a choked sob, pulling her into his arms, and resting his chin on her shoulder. His arms wrapped tight around her back, pulling her as close to his chest as he could. Breathing in deeply, almost like he was trying to memorise the very scent of her. "You'll be a great mother," he murmured the words into her shoulder. He knew he was trying to reassure himself more than anything else.

She held him gently too, running her hand through his hair, "And you will be a fantastic father."

He was quiet, letting her touch soothe him. He closed his eyes, letting her words float over him. It still felt unreal. But he slowly nodded, "Yes… yes I will." he agreed, slowly pulling himself back to look at her face, "Will you do something for me?"

"Of course." She smiled

His hand gently came to cover hers as she held her growing stomach. "Promise me." he said softly, "Promise me I won't lose you."

The fear briefly flashed across her face. "… You know I can't promise that,”

“Then lie to me…” he closed his eyes. "Please." He was begging, and he knew it. He'd never grovelled, never pleaded in his life but he did then, he got to his knees in front of her and took both her hands in his, "Please, promise me I won’t lose you."

She forced a smile and held his hands in hers leaning down to brush his curls, "I promise. I will do all I can." She smiled,

he exhaled slowly. His hands squeezed her arms and he moved to rest his head against her belly, his ear to it. "Thank you," he mumbled into the fabric of her dress.

She softly giggled as her bump began to shift, "awww, he knows you're hugging him." Just as the baby kicked and he felt the movement against his head,

"He's…he's kicking." he felt it again, right against his cheek and he was amazed. His eyes closed, tears forming once more. He had truly been an idiot.

"He's waving, he's saying 'hi daddy' and giving you a little kiss," she laughed,

he laughed softly, and moved gently, pressing his hand against where he could feel the baby, rubbing lightly as he spoke, "Is he now? Little one, are you saying 'hi daddy'?"

Her bump kicked hard in reply.

he laughed at that, rubbing his palm against her stomach again as the baby moved. It was such a simple thing but it was making it all real. Every doubt, every fear he'd held dissolved away with each bump against his cheek and kick back. His eyes moved up from the floor to look up at her, "We can’t wait to meet you little boy."

“We can’t, We’re ever so excited.” She smiled, “Come Jacaerys. You need to rest.” she pleaded,

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her bump before getting to his feet and kissing her lips, “Of course, my love,” he agreed, keeping her in his arms as they headed to their rooms.

[wotay27166]

Goodbye Sparklecare.

This will be my final post for actual for real this time.

What can I say that hasn't been said already? I've done my part. I've learnt everything that I needed. It's not the complete sense of closure I'd want but I don't think that's something I can get. I have to accept that. This has all been an incredibly painful past 2 days for me.

In a way, I grew up alongside Sparklecare. I was a minor when I was there during the preboot days, and now I'm an adult with an income. An income that I used in part to support Kittycorn for 2 years. Kittycorn's work was formative to me as an artist and a writer. I related to a lot of the characters and the plots because I too was a traumatized mentally ill/disordered person who had suffered at the hands of both a society and a medical system that did not treat me with dignity.

8 years of my life this comic was a part of.

Everyone has already said everything about Kittycorn the person, her actions, and her predatory associates so I'd like to talk about something else.

Sparklecare as a piece of art

...and how it just speaks to the lack of true artistry that everything about it ceases to hold up entirely once you know the Real Intent.

Because it's insincere.

If you essentially have to deceive your audience to get them to care, you have failed. If you're going to pull deception on your audience it has to be intentional to the experience. You can have stories that are fucked up, transgressive, and taboo succeeding in being fantastic stories in spite of those things as they wear their heart on their sleeve, genuine in what they want to convey. Sparklecare and all its surrounding media is none of that when Kittycorn put on a fake safe persona with a fetish mining work full of dog whistles and falsehoods.

When you set a standard for what your work is and what to expect, it is a MASSIVE 'Fuck you' to your audience to go against what you supposedly stood for the entire time otherwise. I guess a kind of similar example I can bring up is exactly why people hate the ending of Bunny Drop so much. It goes beyond the incest as a presence, it's more about the betrayal of expectation I'd say. It forces you to retroactively look at everything differently and it just ruins it entirely. Every single familial interaction in Cometcare is now impossible to see as just wholesome familial bonding, it's all warped to hell and back right down to the extended lore and themes. The very existence of 'secret canon' or whatever excuse tampers the whole. If it was like a fan-made thing it'd be like whatever, but this is the actual creator - this is a part of her vision. Right from the source.

But even once you realize this, it still doesn't work because it feels unnatural like what is actually wanting to be said/done is being held back. So you're stuck in this awful middle ground of a horrific realization.

The point is, people who aren't upfront about this sort of shit will never make good art that's worth remembering. In a few years no one will give a fuck about this comic outside of its controversy. That is the legacy one leads through insincerity. Even if it does remain it will never again reach the height or momentum it once did.

If you really want to really 'do whatever you want forever', you have to do it with honesty. You can't hedge around it or downplay what you actually want to do. All you will do is build yourself a mounting wall of expectations you know you will never meet because it's all a lie. For all Kittycorn saying in the past she never wanted it to be popular or get the attention it did... she kept pandering to the popular instead of doing what she actually wanted to do, and that's make a fucked up incest comic. It's because the allure of material reward of a large safe fandom that gives you fanart, recognition, and money is rewarding rather than making something real.

That hypothetical fucked up incest magnum opus, I wouldn't be apart of that audience nor would a lot of people in the current Sparklecare fandom. It is an alienating thing to create just purely based on what it is and if that's the 'whatever you want' to make 'forever', it is something one must accept. It also takes a lot of skill to make a work that an audience that otherwise would never engage with something like that to still enjoy/see the merits of it in terms of a piece of art/story. Good writers are perverts, but not all perverts are good writers. If you're not putting your entire ass in everything, the ass crack will show. As an artist who willingly puts their art out into the world and curates a specific audience and tone with their work... how she did not expect any of it to backfire is beyond me.

With an art and writing style that lends itself to a more juvenile audience with how very 'teaching a lesson' focused things are (even the incest comics are like this) it does not naturally lend itself to nuanced discussion nor the sea of depth in terms of character complexity. Sure the characters are multi faceted, but their actions are very black and white with the creator very not open to alternative interpretations that she cannot control within the audience to the point of distress (see people having a problem with Doom in a relationship with former patients he inadvertently aided in torturing by being complicit in the system that enabled it, for example). Even if it turns out if, for example, Sly is supposed to be seen as victim of her own illness (OCD acting on intrusive thoughts) it doesn't magically alleviate her of the actions portrayed nor disgust overshadowing sympathy. There is nothing Kittycorn can do to repair the reputation of this character within her art.

She is still calling the rampant incest canon just a comfort thing and thinks that being like 'umm all the canons are separate it's all AUs' changes intent and mindset in any way. You can't magically just switch off part of your brain when working on certain things - that's not how it works. It's not even like I can't fathom or understand where the coping comes from - a world where what if this awful thing that happened to me wasn't awful and I can reframe it in a positive way for myself so the abuse I endured hurts less. What if the codependent trauma bond meant so much more than a vessel of having power over someone in a life devoid of it? Potentially, a work like that could be quite profound because incest as both a moral dilemma and as a form of abuse, there is no easy 'out' when dealing with it. Themes of generational trauma, legacy, power, sexism, desperation...

--

EDIT: Okay never mind, that entire last three paragraphs before this one was written before the giant ass Sly x Eve defense and... no one is misrepresenting anything. It turns out it is full on incest romanticization in the most literal way. Incest true love. There's no nuance here whatsoever. Which, damn, I... I guess I'm truly speechless here. I was expecting like ANYTHING I guess but it's just... NOTHING...? I feel like an idiot. Fell for it again award received by me!!

I would like to formally apologize to the Coffin of Andy and Leyley - I didn't give you enough credit.

8 fucking years I invested into this shitty fucking comic and it turns out I was reading way WAY too deeply into EVERYHTING. FOR YEARS. Sparklecare was only good because I autistically indulged and overanalyzed everything into thinking there was more here being said and presented than it ever actually was.

I need to sit down.

--

But the key to that is sincerity.

Which is what Kittycorn lacks. It extends beyond her art as even her 'apology' posts are insincere. I don't think Kittycorn understands that no amount of 'actually you are supposed to interpret it like this' will change people's perception purely because of the sensitive nature of the topic at hand. You can be a big massive pervert with big massive pervert parts in you story and it could potentially have merit as art, but it has to be sincere all the way through. You can take perverse to mean purposefully contrarian or sexually taboo- either way I feel it applies. If you can't even be honest about the sorts of people you hang around with nor the way you approach your very public persona...

How can anyone trust a word you say? When all you've done so far is lie? At what point does the audience stop accepting the 'Fell for it again' award?

Why should anyone view your art as anything but a farce?

Anyway, that's my ramble about art.

Wotay27166 signing off for the last time, peace ✌️

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

One show ends this week, but there are several more on the way, including a surprising adaptation. Of the six shows airing now, five are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

I. LOVE. THEM. Their little bird watching date was precious and I loved every moment of it, including Taishin's adorable outfit and over preparedness, Takara's secret smiles, and the patient search for the wallet. I was so relieved that Taishin named his fears about them not being suited upfront instead of letting it grow into a huge anxiety in his own head, and I was also happy Takara was eager to speak with him about his impending relocation. That said, NOOOOOOOO I don't want a forced separation and time skip, show. Please I am begging.

Cosmetic Playlover

This was my favorite week for this show by far, because they actually let us see the relationship at its center! I enjoyed finally spending some time with these two as a couple, though I still find the timing and sequencing of these plots confusing as hell. Last week Sahashi gave Mamiya keys to his place and it was implied they'd been dating for quite awhile and were already serious, but this week we learn Mamiya has never spent the night and they are only just having sex for the first time. It was a real record scratch for me; I can't get my bearings in this relationship trajectory with all the gaps in the story. But hey, at least they finally let them make out a little! For a show that sold itself as toxic sexy, there has been very little toxicity or sex, tbh.

I Hear the Sunspot

*rubs temples* This show is really testing my patience. I got excited last week when Kohei and Taichi finally had a real conversation and it seemed like we were moving forward, but this week we're back to treading water. This story did not need 12 episodes; this pacing, while faithful to the manga as I understand it, does not work well for weekly live action. It's been weeks since we've learned anything new about these characters or advanced the central relationship, and the show continues to stumble with its confused depiction of Maya. I just want this show to pull together and finish strong, because I think a lot of this will be much more tolerable on a binge watch. For now I will just gaze at Kohei's beautiful smiling face and hope for a full recovery.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

I said last week that the show had gotten so muddled I didn't think they'd be able to end well, and even with those very low expectations this finale still managed to get underneath them. The last several episodes made a mess of the characters, the conflict, and the themes of the show, and to add insult to injury, they capped it all off with angle kisses, a time skip, and a bizarre sex negative ending that had our "boob monster" adult lesbian refusing to have sex with her girlfriend for over a year so she could "cherish" her before randomly kissing her at the office as if that was the important resolution we'd been waiting for. A truly horrid ending that ruined everything this show did so well in its early episodes. I don't understand!! Big sigh and fingers crossed for a decent sexy gl sometime in the near future.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

I've just been beaming and staring into space for the last several minutes after finishing this episode. No matter what else happens in the shows, I love knowing I am always going to end my week in jql on a good note while this gem is airing. This week marked a transition point for Ishida and Mitsuya, as Ishida had a great conversation with Noguchi, found a new passion and put in for a job transfer, and had his final meeting and meal with Mitsuya as writer and editor. Which they immediately followed with a date and mutual acknowledgment of the feelings between them! And what a fantastic date it was, with every moment so invigorating and wonderfully adult. Mitsuya's quiet confidence and amusement at Ishida's nerves, Ishida's clarity on how he wants Mitsuya to see him, the mutual compliments and gestures and smiles and eye contact, ahhhhhhhhh. I also loved that Ishida got to be the one to show Mitsuya something new at the end, to get him to run with joy for the first time in ages and introduce him to a new food. I am so excited to see their dating era begin in earnest. You can find the episode with subtitles courtesy of @isaksbestpillow here.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[monakisu]

I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

[dorothylarouge]

Dorothy's Top Five Games of 2024

Honorable Mentions:

Suzerain: A gripping and fully-developed world of politics and international relations, Suzerain released its Rizia DLC this year, and I played through both it and the main campaign. Its realistic portrayal of political and economic processes, in the backdrop of a world almost our own, proved extremely addictive.

Goodbye Volcano High: A heartfelt and moving interactive animated miniseries about coming of age in apocalyptic times, with some great indie rock-flavored music.

We Love Katamari Reroll: A delightful followup to the original Katamari Damacy, We Love Katamari is more of the same - and what more could you ask?

Sea of Stars: A beautiful love letter to classic JRPGs, with gorgeous environments, delightful timing-based combat, endearing characters, and wonderful music, including guest tracks composed by legend Yasunori Mitsuda.

Dragon Age: the Veilguard: Now the story of a studio who lost everything, and the one game that had no choice but to get them back on track. It’s Arrested Development.

And now, the list proper.

Fifth Place: Penny's Big Breakaway (Evening Star)

I have a tremendous soft spot for 3D platformers. Some of my earliest memories of video games involve playing Super Mario Sunshine, Sonic Adventure 2, and Spyro (the bad one) on GameCube.

Penny's Big Breakaway feels like a refugee from that era of platformer, one which would have felt at home on the Dreamcast, GameCube, or even the original Xbox or PlayStation 2. It combines energetic, almost frantic platforming with a high skill ceiling and combo system with a turn-of-the-century graphical aesthetic and fantastic music by Tee Lopes to provide a return to form for a genre which has for too long been permitted to languish.

As with most 3D platformers, story is not a major focus. You play as Penny, a yo-yo-toting busker who ends up running afoul of an emperor and must escape imprisonment by his army of colorful penguins. That's it. That's all you need. This simple premise provides ample excuse for Penny to run, jump, and roll her way through a host of themed worlds. Sometimes, less is more.

With that said, this is not a perfect game. The controls take a lot of time and effort to master, and even after a good amount of play time one is liable to fling oneself off of the map. Health powerups are not as plentiful as they should be, especially in boss encounters, and a lack of camera control can be downright painful at times. Still, these complaints do not ruin the game, and hopefully they can be addressed in a sequel.

The developers of Sonic Mania have created a true gem with this, the debut game from new studio Evening Star, and I look forward to seeing what the studio comes out next - like the best platformer mascots, Penny has the charisma and style to inspire adventures for years to come.

Fourth Place: Neva (Nomada Studio)

Neva is the latest release from Nomada Studio, creators of the brilliant game Gris, and where Gris was a parable of grief and loss, Neva is an ecological fable in which a girl and her dog must make their way through an increasingly-ravaged natural world beset by decay and corruption.

The core gameplay of Neva builds and iterates upon what was seen in Gris, with a dash, double jump, and ground pound, but added in are a sword, which main character Alba uses to fight enemies as well as unlock obstacles, and abilities involving the titular dog which are unlocked over the course of the game. The combat is fun but fairly rudimentary, and I saw it as a garnish on the real focus of the game, which is robust and engaging puzzle platforming of the kind that made Gris such a delight.

The game, as expected of Nomada Studio, is gorgeous, with a beautiful art style, impeccable sound design, brilliant use of color, and haunting, atmospheric music. The level design is also excellent, spanning a number of natural environments which are slowly but surely overtaken by the creeping decay, as well as man-made structures resembling those in Gris, which are also crumbling and in a state of decay. The degradation of nature and collapse of the structures of man are linked in Neva, giving rise to uncomfortable thoughts about the state of the world today.

Neva is defined by cycles, cycles of life, death, decomposition, and the cycle of the seasons, which give each of the game's four chapters their names. The game ends in an echo of its beginning, a beautiful and bittersweet ending I will not spoil here.

Neva is a hauntingly beautiful, if frustratingly short, gaming experience which I think will stay with me for a long time. I felt compelled to hug my dog after it was done.

Third Place: Metaphor: ReFantazio (Studio Zero)

When Metaphor was first announced, the impression that everyone got was that it was fantasy Persona, with a large amount of development staff carried over from the Hashino Persona games, a lot of mechanics and systems carried over from those games, and even some summonable demons from the mainline Persona and Shin Megami Tensei games. Commentators made note that this was fantasy Persona. Journalists endlessly referred to it as fantasy Persona. Reviewers regarded it as fantasy Persona. It was such a cliche, so aggravating to fans, that it became verboten in the fanbase to refer to the game as fantasy Persona.

Metaphor: ReFantazio is fantasy Persona. This is in no way a bad thing. As in the Hashino Persona games, there is an emphasis on social simulation, with the main character forging bonds with his party members and honing his social skills - not to self-actualize as a social being, as in Persona, but to prove his mettle and worthiness as a king to a kingdom cast into chaos after the last king's murder.

It is this emphasis on fantasy that sets Metaphor apart. The game is constantly musing on fantasy tropes and the transformative nature of the genre, and it has a surprising amount to say about the appeal of fantasy narratives, to say nothing of its overarching themes of prejudice and self-determination.

In terms of gameplay, Metaphor actually takes a lot more from the Press Turn system of Shin Megami Tensei than the One More system of Persona, and it took me a while to get into the groove of it. Once I did, though, I had a great time chaining attacks to strike at opponents' weaknesses and finishing my turns with devastating damage via the game's Synthesis mechanic. The game's central gameplay feature, the Archetype system - a sort of job system like those in Sqaure Enix RPGs - was also something I took to readily after some initial fiddling. The game lets you mix and match abilities from different archetypes via the skill inheritance system, and I had a lot of fun creating an ideal build for each playable character.

And then, of course, there's the characters. Metaphor features a large cast of characters, and I was happy to see that all of the social link equivalents featured strong and compelling narratives that made the time needed to invest in each rank of their story a worthy commitment. In particular, I found the narratives of Eupha, Heismay, and Maria especially compelling, and the bonuses provided through spending time with them to be particularly valuable.

Metaphor: ReFantazio is fantasy Persona. And that's a good thing! It's a great game, and I hope it's one that gets revisited sooner rather than later. Studio Zero have produced a real gem for their debut title, and I really hope they keep the momentum going.

Second Place: Ghost of Tsushima: Director's Cut (Sucker Punch Productions)

I am a huge fan of the works of director Akira Kurosawa - Throne of Blood is my favorite film of all time - and the jidaigeki genre of samurai films in general, so when I learned that Sucker Punch was making a game inspired by the genre I was filled with excitement which turned to dismay when I learned that the game would be PlayStation exclusive. Thankfully, though, little stays PlayStation exclusive for long, and I was happy to finally play Ghost of Tsushima when its Director's Cut released on PC this year.

The setup of Ghost of Tsushima is pretty simple, and slots in nicely with its genre - you play as Jin Sakai, the sole survivor of a massacre of samurai at the hands of invading Mongols, and must use all the tools at your disposal to free the jito, your uncle, and liberate your island home of Tsushima. Along the way, you begin to chafe at the code of honor you are expected to uphold as a samurai and as your uncle's heir apparent. While Ghost does have a simple premise, it is its characters, and their struggles and dreams, which kept me invested throughout the experience.

The game's combat is consistently satisfying, with the player rotating through various swordfighting stances to counter specific enemy types, while also having access to a bow, bombs, poison darts, and various quickfire items which can disrupt enemies and allow you to control the flow of combat. It's a fun system to master and learn how to get through any encounter without taking any damage. Occasionally the game also puts you in one on one duels with certain enemies, which are always fantastic - the one at the end of the game especially.

Where Ghost really shines, though, is in its exploration. I wouldn't call Ghost of Tsushima a true open world game - the player's access to the island's various regions is gated by story progression, and you unlock more of Tsushima as you progress, while having free reign of any area you have access to at any given time. The game heavily rewards exploration with a variety of activities and collectibles, which differentiate themselves from the typical Ubisoft-style open world icons by being fun, useful, and engaging. You'll scale mountains to reach a shrine to a kami, or rest for a while in a hot spring to increase your health, or (anachronistically as the art form did not exist in the 13th century) compose a haiku to earn a new piece of cosmetic gear. You'll also follow a number of character-based side stories, one-off side quests, and mythic tales which unlock powerful abilities and armor, all of which are extremely engaging and memorable. I would liken Ghost of Tsushima to last year's Tears of the Kingdom in terms of just how good it feels to explore and discover the island of Tsushima's beautiful environments, and uncover all of its secrets.

As a lover of the genre, I could barely put Ghost of Tsushima down in my initial playthrough of over 70 hours. It more than earns its spot on the list, but there's just one game I think left even more of a mark on me this year.

First Place: Persona 3 Reload (P-Studio)

I am a recent convert to the Persona series, having first played Persona 5 Royal in 2022 and playing Persona 4 Golden when it released on Xbox in 2023. However, I have fallen deeply in love with the series, and when Persona 3 Reload was announced I made the decision that I had to play it on release day. I called out of work and preordered the game - something I never do - and through a combination of being trapped in my home by a massive storm and losing my job the next week, I ended up plowing through Persona 3 Reload in about a week. I simply couldn't put the game down.

I had very little knowledge of the story or characters of Persona 3, having never played my copy of Persona 3 Portable since this game was announced so soon after that released, and so experiencing this narrative for the first time was an experience I'll never forget. Persona 3 is a game about death which is simultaneously extremely life-affirming, celebrating the relationships, connections, and simple joys that make life worth living, while embracing the fact that everyone must someday die and using that fact as motivation to live every day to the fullest. It is a moving, emotional story anchored by rich, engaging characters. I cried several times throughout.

The gameplay of Persona 3 Reload, a refinement on the turn-based systems of previous entries, is polished to a shine, and I found myself blowing through whole blocks of Tartarus, the game's only dungeon, in a single in-game night due to how engaging and addictive the combat felt. It felt extremely rewarding to find effective combos and a synergistic team that could raise each character's Theurgy gauge as quickly as possible, and the structure of Tartarus hooked me in surprisingly effectively, given that I wasn't a big fan of Persona 4's TV Wortld dungeons, or Persona 5's Mementos, dungeons with a similar structure to Tartarus. It helps that there's a surprising amount to do in Tartarus, from rescuing lost civilians to fulfilling requests for the Velvet Room attendant Elizabeth to exploring the various Monad Doors and plundering their rare items.

Persona 3 Reload is a very special game, one that I think will stick with me for a very long time. I can easily see why fans had been clamoring for a remake for so long, and I am extremely grateful that we finally got this game as a result. It is a genuine masterpiece, and easily takes the title of my game of the year.