#writing the characters going through struggles akin to mine and making it through them was always comforting

[nunyverse-scribe]

Perhaps if I started writing again I wouldn’t want to kill myself as much as I do right now

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 19

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 19 - Confuse

When he left, the crowd was gone. The corridor was empty. The old custodian didn’t even turn on the ceiling light to save electricity. Only the wall lamp glowed a dull yellow. Lin Yan’s face drained of all colour. He suddenly felt like he was in a horror movie. He was the lead actor stumbling along the wall in a terrifying corridor.

The professor's story made him feel incredibly afraid. Behind him was a ghost, a murderer who put people to death in a cruel and bloody way. He didn't even dare to look behind him. He was afraid that when he turned around, a ghost covered in bloodstains would be there, grinning sinisterly at him through a veil of long hair, saying: It's your turn.

Lin Yan's breathing became heavier and heavier. When he couldn't resist the urge to run away, he was suddenly pushed harshly against the wall. His body was wrenched around. Lin Yan raised his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Stay away from me." Lin Yan said flatly: ". . . I don't want to die like this."

He bit his lip and pushed at Xiao Yu, but the ghost entangled himself around him and sucked at his neck fiercely. Lin Yan turned his head and stubbornly refused to look at him. He felt that he should be scared, but he couldn't even understand the feeling in his heart. It was unpleasant. It took Lin Yan a minute before he realized that the emotion he was feeling was disappointment.

He was disappointed with the ghost.

". . . Lin Yan" Xiao Yu seemed to be anxious too. He gently rocked Lin Yan's body. His hands slid off his shoulders, and stopped on Lin Yan's small and slender wrist. Pressing his fingers onto his pulse point. feeling his racing heart, he clasped Lin Yan's hands, intertwining their fingers.

The cold hands felt like they were made of fine porcelain, and his fingers were devoid of warmth.

"How could you be so cruel? Even if they entered your tomb with bad intentions, all you had to do was scare them away. You let a woman kill her husband and slit her own throat. How could you do that?!" Lin Yan yanked his hand out of Xiao Yu's. Everything he wanted to say seemed to be stuck in his throat; all he could think about was the ghost. He had protected this man during the events in the temple, and he rested on his chest obediently in the car. When he was onstage, he comforted him when he saw him having bad stage fright. Lin Yan thought he must be out of his mind, otherwise how could he feel so wronged by the shamelessness of this ghost?

The ghost was so strong that Lin Yan couldn't get away no matter how hard he struggled. Xiao Yu pressed into him, his cold body holding him against the wall. Lin Yan helplessly bowed his head, but Xiao Yu dragged his chin to the side and pushed his lips delicately onto his.

"I owe it to you for disturbing your tomb." Lin Yan said wearily: "Get it over with. Just leave my body in one piece."

Xiao Yu's voice took on a bit of urgency as he said in a hushed voice: ". . . I don't want to hurt you." After speaking, he seemed to be unable to think of anything else to say. He stepped back a few steps and caught Lin Yan's hand. On his palm, he stroked: "They deserve to die."

Lin Yan withdrew his hand. He shook his head and stepped back, turning around and stumbling along the corridor and started running. After he got a few metres away, he couldn't help looking back. The ghost was still standing in the same place, the hem of the blood suit fluttering from the gust he made when he rushed away. He looked at him with a sad and lonely glance.

Suddenly, Lin Yan couldn't move anymore, and he felt a pang in his heart. Like he said, this ghost had never hurt him. While, on the other hand, they, in the name of research, had destroyed this ghost's resting place and all the objects he had loved during his lifetime. The last memories he had from before his death were all put into a museum. Since then, he had become a lonely soul wandering around the world, sitting at the door of the ruined temple like a wild spirit in the western mountains in rainy weather, waiting centuries for someone to take him away.

Shouldn't ghosts be the bumps in the night that kill without mercy? Lin Yan knew that it was just his anger speaking at this point, but he couldn't control it. He thought maybe Xiao Yu could have been a good person. Lin Yan thought, maybe he was just lonely and resentful for too long.

. . . Lin Yan's own thoughts surprise him. Was. . . was he making excuses for the ghost?

It was a mess. It was all so messed up.

Lin Yan stood there for a while, and walked back slowly. The ghost seemed to be stunned. He waited until Lin Yan stood in front of him before he hesitantly stretched out his hand and pulled him into his arms. He quietly muttered: "Lin Yan. . ." He seemed to think over his words carefully, but the ghost was already determined to follow him, so he slowly said: "Don't go."

Xiao Yu hugged his waist tightly, rubbing his forehead lightly against the nook of his neck like a big docile cat that ran back to his master to beg for forgiveness after eating his dried fish. Lin Yan couldn't shake him off. The two of them lingered in the dark corridor for a while. He opened his eyes angrily, and yelled at the ghost with all his might: "Why can't I get rid of you?!"

Lin Yan tucked Xiao Yu's hair behind his ear, revealing a handsome face. The ghost dropped his eyes and didn't dare look at him. Lin Yan looked at him and laughed despite his frustration. He said softly with a sideways glance, "Why do you have to follow me?"

". . . Do you like me?"

Xiao Yu's expression relaxed, but his hands squeezed around his tighter. He quickly glanced up at Lin Yan, his eyes shining with expectation.

Lin Yan ran his finger through Xiao Yu’s hair and straightened it down, resting them on his back. In the past, scholarly poetry, calligraphy, music, horseback riding and archery were all available. Because of that, the muscles on his back were very firm. Lin Yan was taken aback. He hid his surprise and sighed: "I deserve all of this. I picked up a ghost after a good archeological internship."

Lin Yan took Xiao Yu's shoulders and looked at him earnestly: "Xiao Yu, you can stay if you want. I'll tell you if you do anything that hurts me. You can't touch any of my friends or anyone around me otherwise I'll go back to the monk and send you away."

A soft kiss fell onto his cheek, and Lin Yan smiled. He knew that for Xiao Yu, this reaction was akin to a promise. After getting used to how stubbornly intimate this ghost was, this kiss made him feel at ease. The power in the corridor was unstable, and the dark yellow wall lamp kept flickering. On any normal day, he would definitely want to get out of this horror movie scene as soon as possible. Today, he didn't feel any fear. What could be more terrifying than being held by a murderer? Lin Yan played with the long hair in his hands and said helplessly: "I don't want to talk about a ghost's morality. Let's go home. You can take a bath and change your clothes. You're shaving years off my life every time you appear and scare the crap out of me."

On the way home, Lin Yan recalled the PSP guy’s shit-eating expression. He whistled happily while listening to his CD, occasionally glancing over at the passenger seat. Xiao Yu was resting on the dark green seat cushion. Lin Yan couldn't help but secretly smile. Since Weiwei had broken up with him half a year ago, no one had been there to accompany him home. While waiting for the red light, Lin Yan raised his hand and brush aside the messy hair covering Xiao Yu's face. The ghost woke up in a daze. His eyes opened and looked over at Lin Yan. Seeing that there was nothing wrong, he closed them again and went back to sleep.

Actually. . . he was almost like a Tibetan mastiff or something like that. Lin Yan's heart beat with happiness. If he were a dog, if Lin Yan was able to take care of him, there shouldn't be any problems with him staying at his apartment. Either way, he still had more than two months left, enough for him to take his time investigating the situation. But it that didn't work. . . the monk would have to send him away.

Lin Yan's expression froze, and his heart twitched. He didn't even want to think about what would happen then.

Later, Lin Yan regretted it. He discovered that in addition to reading, writing, painting a counterfeit fan and being a scary ghost, Lin Yan found other characteristics that left him dumbfounded. When I arrived home at nine o’clock that evening, the small red voicemail light on his phone was flashing. Lin Yan picked it up and listened. The first message was from the little Daoist, saying that he had arrived home safely. The second one was Yin Zhou, saying that he hadn't found anything while searching through the database, but his relatives traveled to Lingyin Temple and bought a very effective amulet for Lin Yan to use if he needed it.

Lin Yan hesitated as he held the receiver and left a voicemail for Yin Zhou: "The lecture gave me some new information. I'm waiting for more news to meet up for an interview with someone."

"About the amulet. . . I don't need it for the time being." Turning his head with a guilty conscience, a silhouette could be vaguely seen in the dark living room. Xiao Yu was leaning on the sofa and waiting for him.

Lin Yan hung up the phone, and dragged Xiao Yu to the bathroom. After wiping down the bathtub and filling it with hot water, Lin Yan pulled the shower curtain aside and said, "I'll bring you new clothes after. Yours are soaked in blood. There's no way to clean them. I'll just throw them out and you can wear mine."

"Call me if the water gets cold."

Xiao Yu didn't move. Lin Yan wanted to go outside, but he started following him after just a few steps.

Lin Yan looked back with wide eyes: "You really can't go an hour without following me? Can't I wait for you outside? I won't run away, don't worry."

Xiao Yu glanced at the bathtub, naturally raised his arms and stretched them outwards.

Lin Yan didn't understand what that meant. He recalled the scenes of a TV drama he had seen, and tentatively asked: "You. . . you're not waiting for a maid to help you, are you?"

Xiao Yu actually nodded. Ten thousand grass mud horses stomped across Lin Yan's heart. He couldn't help shouting: "I don't have one in my house! I'm an adult so I just do it myself!"

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself!"

Lin Yan tore into the ghost in his bathroom, and Xiao Yu looked at him with an unchanging, stoic look, waiting expectantly.

After several failed attempts to persuade him, Lin Yan angrily took off the traditional dress he had worn for the whole night, threw it on the chair, and harshly pressed his finger into Xiao Yu's forehead: "Give me a minute, let me go change my clothes and I'll be back to help the oh-so-great Young Master Xiao get changed and bathe."

Ten minutes later, Lin Yan slipped on his flip flops and reappeared in the bathroom. The ghost was still standing in the same spot. The blood-stained shirt was eerie in the light. There was no shadow under his feet, and the ghost had his head bowed with paint-black hair covering most of his face. If this were two weeks earlier, Lin Yan would have run out in fear, but now. . . Lin Yan sighed. He draped a towel over his shoulder and untied Xiao Yu's belt.

Lin Yan instinctively turned his face away when the blood-caked clothes fell to the ground and didn't dare peek over. All that was in his mind was the horrific image of dead people's intestines, and the rotting abdomen showed dense white bones, red new flesh, black rotting flesh. . . Xiao Yu lifted Lin Yan's chin with his fingers and forced him to turn his head. Lin Yan took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and fixed his gaze on Xiao Yu.

Unexpectedly, there were no bloody holes or exposed bones like he imagined. Instead, there was a beautiful body in front of Lin Yan. There were broad shoulders and a narrow waist, tight and strong muscles, and messy long hair hanging down to his waist. Lin Yan blushed. Ever since the last time this ghost had teased him to the point of needing to masturbate over it, he had reluctantly accepted the fact that he had feelings for men, and the image in front of him was absolutely vivid. Being in his twenties, coupled with the fact that he hadn't gotten any action in over half a year, Lin Yan couldn't help but internally moan, internally lusting over the thought of doing things with this man.

The bathtub had filled with hot water, and the whole room was covered with milky white mist. Lin Yan tested the temperature of the water, staring at the wall behind Xiao Yu's shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay, you can get in." After speaking, his face blushed again, and he gestured at Xiao Yu: "You can. . . take your pants off yourself."

[incoherentbabblings]

What are your favourite comics anyway?

Oh! Oh! Oh! Okay. Full disclaimer. We’re going for what comics I re-read over and over again. Are these comics...good? Eh. Are they bad? No, I don’t think so. Some were meh to wow! when first released that time has either been kinder or harsher to, but I don’t think I have a series or a run or a title which is I like which is like... hot guilty garbage. Though, of course, feel free to disagree. There are some authors on here which people will not want to touch with a barge pole, and I totally understand and encourage not touching them if you don’t want to.

Having said that, here are my favourite popcorn comics (largely Titans and Batfam because I am... basic): 

The Flash (2016) issues 39-45 + Annual #1

Having said that, Flash time first. People think Williamson is a real hit or miss writer and I do agree, but I think this whole arc is one big hit. It’s frantic in its energy, I love Gorilla Grodd as a villain, I love the modern Flashfam trying to help, I love how Wally coming in to help totally turns the tide and the mood. I love how everyone looks at Wally like… this guys is powerful, more powerful than any other speedster… but also noting there’s something very fragile about him. I didn’t include Flash War in this because I’m still waiting for the payoff for that angst regarding Wally, but this arc… mwah. Wallace Rudolph West being vindicated as the greatest Flash (whilst allowing Barry to be flawed and to lead his family)? Yes please. Also I love Carmine’s art. I gather it’s hit and miss for some folk but I love the line work. Also Carlos D’Anda’s issue (come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack draw Dick and Roy again your work has gotten so much cuter this past decade) is a beauty too. Big ol’ eyes.

 (Under the cut ‘cause this is LONG)

Batman Dark Victory

One of two Loeb stories for me. And yeah sure Long Halloween is objectively better but…jelly bean

Also, angry traumatised Dick smacking a dying man with a stick. What a legend.

Gates of Gotham

Cass! Damian! Dick!Bats! Tim! A mystery villain! World building for Gotham! Stuff exploding! Batfam banter! Trevor McCarthy art! This bizarre panel of Jim Gordon holding Tim’s hand like he’s checking the time?

It’s one of the last ‘pure’ Batman stories before the reboot – Bat Inc aside – so it’s how I like to read the Batfam’s relationship by the end of that universe. Everyone’s a lot more content, proud Dad Bruce, happy and settled Dick and Damian, Cassandra returning home, Tim chopping off the emo hair… it’s all good.

Grayson (particularly #5)

I know why people can’t stand it. The circumstances leading up to it are bog awful. Opinions on Tom King’s writing has only grown more spliced with time. The (sex) jokes are too on the nose and hit too close to home for many. The cheesecake art is too stilted for some. But! Issue #5 is my favourite single issue story. Ever. You never have thought boxes in this series, because everyone is lying, but you aren’t told when. You never know how genuine Dick is being at any given moment, until it is just him and the baby. I love how single-minded it allows him to be. I love how he flat out lies and manipulates to protect that little girl, whilst also caring for Helena. About how seriously he takes his job of protecting Bruce and his family (and that’s why he’s even doing the stupid spy thing in the first place). And maaaaybe it’s unrealistic that Dick could outlast Midnighter crossing the desert, but screw it. Bruce can be better than metahumans all the time. Let Dick get an issue to be so to. Saving a little girl who is probably going to grow up to be akin to Superwoman. Just because he’s given himself that responsibility. He’s going to double cross twenty groups at the same time and come out clean as a whistle. And he’ll cross a desert with a newborn to do it.

Light of my fricking life.

Infinite Crisis

I…I like that things go boom. John’s is very good for that. Also, the Nightwing and Batman moments howowheheheheheheeeeeeee. Almost wish Bruce had shot Alexander. I wonder what would have happened?

(Brief side note: Graphic Audio’s adaptation of this is great fun. I dropped a bowl of cereal at the part of Superboy Prime versus the Titans. Cassie’s scream when Pantha’s head got punched off was a bit…intense. The No Man’s Land one is very good too if you have cash to burn - the voice actors are the same in both and Nightwing’s voice actor has this lisp and I don’t know man... I love it. He’s now the voice in my head for Dick).

Titans/JLA and The Titans (1999) issues 1-25

The Titans are now known I think for not being a very proactive hero group. Books struggle with balancing team dynamics versus plot, and this one is no exception. I know people don’t want to touch Devin Grayson’s stuff with a barge pole. My justification for this is flimsy I accept that, however, the JLA/Titans comic was the very first comic I read when I was like six or seven. I was rummaging through my brother’s room as a nosy kid does and this was at the top of his pile. Thank god for the little info boxes as each Titan was captured/referenced. I fell in love with Kory, I fell in love with Dick, I fell in love with Donna (oh Donna…) and then I tumbled down a hole and pretended I hadn’t until about six years ago. So that’s nice. So yes, this one is one hundred percent nostalgia based. 

But honestly, Linkara did a retrospective on this event comic and series years ago, and his reasons for loving it are the same as mine really, so go watch those if you have like five hours to kill. When Devin leaves the comic remains strong for just a moment then... absolutely plummets off a cliff. So I really wouldn’t bother with the second half of the series but hey. You do you.

Teen Titans/Outsiders: The Insiders

More Geoff John’s explosions. My first comic that got bought for me. My brother walked in to the shop and said: “I need a comic for my sister where Starfire gets a good showing” and the men went… ah yes.

Eleven-year old me was like EXPLOSIONSSSSS but also was intrigued by Kory and Dick’s bedtime convos (perhaps…I was a bit under the age bracket for this book - Kory gets a good showing huh?) but uh. Anyway. Also this is when I was thoroughly enamoured with Roy. This crossover is typical Winnick and John’s angsty angst with overly poetic narration and tropey tropes which, combined with what came before and what was to come for the Outsiders, can make both series such a slog to get through, but in isolation, I think it’s a real fun crossover which gave everyone a bit of time to shine and some real fan-ficcy moments (very self-indulgent, and I love that in a comic).

Teen Titans: Year One

I love Amy Wolfram and I love Karl Kerschel. It’s a good intro to those five characters with cute stories. Does exactly what it says on the tin. Batman is demonstrably a major prick in this, even after de-brainwashing, so it’s obviously going with the ‘Dick is only half as functioning as he is thanks to Roy, Wally, Garth and Donna’, which I can get behind 100% depending on what story they are trying to tell, but it’s just… it’s still sad to read. I just think the art is brilliant at giving each of the five very clear characteristics just from their body language, and you know immediately what each character dynamic is like with another.

Batman Hush

The other Loeb story. Again, it has what I like in a Batman story. A mystery, the family, appearances of villains, flashbacks and brooding, fighting, Jim Lee’s Nightwing being hunky… Ahem. It’s a fun read I think. Also, I really like Loeb’s Bruce? I don’t think people talk about it much. But he’s really chatty in his own head. And he’s witty and dry and funny. I like that! Also, Babs is such a backbone of this story. I adore that. She’s treated well here, I think.

Black Mirror

I flipping love this arc. I love it. I love the two contrasting but deeply disturbing in different manner art styles, I love the mystery, I love Babs role in the story, I love Tim’s little appearances and the banter with Dick, I love the weird villains and the terrifying ones, and how you think one is one of the two only to be revealed to be the other or both. I love Dick’s investigation and how he goes about it differently to Bruce. I love Dick’s relationship with Jim, I love the flipping reference to the vultures and owls seemingly following Dick (a whole reboot before Snyder got to tell that story), I love the monologue about how James thinks Dick is weird and weak for his compassion and love, when really that’s his greatest strength, I love Jim wanting so hard to believe James is trying against Babs’s cynicism, but also does try to get an unbiased opinion of someone who is proven good at reading people (Dick) and does what he needs to when his son is actively harming people, I love that ambiguous ending and the questionable science, I even love the Joker’s one (1) scene with Dick. I love this line,

I love Snyder at his best. When he’s good…mwah. Great.

…And yeah. That’s my story.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 4)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE:  big thanks to @1zashreena1 and @girlpornparadise for letting me bounce ideas off them  while writing this, hopefully y'all enjoy this and finally, they meet! My first time writing this way so, be nice?

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

CHAPTER:   4 OF ?

TAG LIST (OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight 

 It's as if running into a wall of muscle knocked some sense into her. The name on the shirt scared her enough to trigger her cadet instincts to kick in quickly to allow her to shake the hands off, step back, and salute, despite being inside, which was a tradition reserved for only the army. She held the salute for longer than necessary, wondering why the officer in front of her wasn’t returning it, instead just staring at her with one gorgeously sculpted eyebrow raised. Begrudgingly she dropped her arm, salute unreturned, and an embarrassed look on her face.

“Sir?” the title came out as more of a question than a statement like it normally would. Confusion was spreading through her brain like wildfire, this was new to her. Why was the high ranking officer, the highest she’d ever been in the presence of other than her father, not returning the mark of respect that had been drilled into her since a kid, although, given he wasn’t from around here, it may not be something he is used to. That and he probably never associates with someone that is as low of a rank as herself.   

“Perfect just the Cadet I was looking for, although I must say, not the meeting I was expecting” 

Fuck, that voice, I think I’m in love. Was the first thought that came to mind. That voice, gravely and like the richest of chocolates dossed with the slightest accent, matched the attractive man that stood before her, and hearing it oh so close to her, it made her insides melt. Her imagination definitely had not done his voice justice during any day dream that contained the handsome Colonel in front of her. Oh and how glorious those daydreams were, thinking about a particular dirty one where those huge arms of his were wrapped tightly around her, while his chest was pressed so tightly against her back had her blushing the spot.  Damn it what is it with me and crushing on the higher ups, get a grip girl! 

His words finally clicked in her head. “I’m sorry Sir, what do you mean you were looking for me?”. The confusion was most definitely evident on her face. 

The Colonel chuckled lightly, dark eyes fixated on the cadet before him. “I was made aware that the LT. Colonel was to inform the squadron of my choice tonight, is that not what happened Cadet?” 

Confusion once again hit Greyson full force. Did Sinclair know the whole time that someone had been picked. Of course he did, he said they had been informed, but according to the Colonel in front of her, he knew the exact Cadet that had been chosen. Why hadn’t he said anything to them then?.  

It was at the end of the previous thought that the Cadet deflated, maybe he had told the cadet that had been selected, but it just wasn’t her. Shame ran through her like a lead bullet, of course she wouldn't have been chosen, what Colonel in their right mine would chose a Cadet who had been swept up in a rumour that she was fucking the LT. Colonel in charge of overseeing the entirety of the training squadron just so she could make her way to top recruit. 

“Cadet? I asked you a question”. His tone was clipped. Harsh but straight to the point, and just the right amount of authority to snap the cadets attention from  being in her own thoughts to looking him dead in the eye. Before she quickly averted her gaze to stare at his boot, that alone made him smirk. Good , he thought, she knows her place. 

“I’m sorry Sir, I ummm, I got lost in my thoughts, and umm, no the, ah, the LT. Colonel did not inform us of who you had picked, Sir...” Greyson stuttered, the Colonel was quite the intimidating man up close. All broad shouldered, straight backed and cold facade. If she was being quite honest with herself, she thought the rumours of his brutality might well be true from where she was standing. The way he was watching her was like a predator waiting for his prey to make the one wrong move that would land them in his jaws. A shiver  of fear ran down her spine at the thought. 

The Colonel huffed in annoyance. “Then I suggest you spend less time in your head and more time paying attention, especially when being addressed by a senior officer, Cadet! A mistake like that will get one of your crew killed if you're not careful” 

The cadets stomach plummeted at the thought, she knew all too well what would get a fellow soldier killed, her father liked to remind her that during her weeks leading up to her enlistment. The countless horror stories that had her waking up in a cold sweat had instilled a deep fear of failure within the cadet, but she had not let that show throughout her training, least of all her father hear off it through the chain of command. 

Flustered, Greyson replied with a quick, “I’m sorry Sir, I really am”, only to be laughed at by the Colonel.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it when someone dies Cadet, I’m sure you know that all too well with what your father has done, don't let his mistakes become your own!” The final part was growled out with an anger that permeated the air. 

Greyson swallowed down her rising anger and levelled the officer in front of her with a glare. It was a well known fact amongst the instructors that mentioning her father struck a nerve within her and set her off, many a time she had been reprimanded for near miss fights from her fellow cadets pulling the dad card around her. The cadet figured that either the Colonel knew this and was trying to get a rise out of her, or just knew of her father's past indiscretions and was trying to use it to discredit her. It didn’t matter which thought she pondered more, both made her blood boil just as much. 

Trying to keep a cool demeanor around the officer in front of her was a struggle. He was smirking at her like he just had just won the lottery, all tight lipped and cocky. He had got her hook, line and sinker, she had fallen for his trap. Giving a frustrated huff the cadet looked away from the smug officer in front of her, hoping for something to grab her attention so she could dispel her anger. It seemed however, the Colonel wasn’t done just yet. 

“Yes I know all about Daddy dearest and his mistakes, Greyson. It's a wonder you even bothered to enlist with all the hatred and dishonesty that follows your name around.”. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, if this was the cadet he was going to steal away from the signal corps then he needed her to rebut him, yell at him, something. Anything that would show some hard spirit that would be needed to complete the daily brutality and challenges that would likely come from being in his team. He had heard what she was capable of, now to just see it for himself. 

“Cat got your tongue Cadet? Or are you used to being fucked over in a different kind of way by your superiors. Must be nice to have the LT. Colonel at your beck and call doing your bidding for you and getting you the points to become top cadet. Isn't that right Greyson?” The teasing lilt to his tone was seemingly lost on the cadet in front of him. He watched as waves of varying emotions crossed her face. Something akin to shame crossed first, followed closely by what he assumed was embarrassment, only to be followed by, once more, anger. Which seemed to be this cadets’ default emotion. 

Greyson had never once felt this much anger in one go, yes she knew the Colonel was trying to get a rise out of her, and mentioning her father usually did the trick. The idea that he was discrediting her based on rumours and one small sighting of something that definitely wasn’t a professional interaction with the Lt. Colonel during the assessment day somehow struck a nerve so deep she was sure that this feeling was beyond anger, in fact, she was livid. He didn’t know anything about her and he was going to insinuate that! Oh he definitely had another thing coming.

“Respectfully. Sir.” Greyson quipped in a bratty tone, “You don’t know the first thing about me, so you have no right to insinuate that I am sleeping my way to the top!” her distaste for the Colonel before her was growing by the second, “I would have thought it well below your rank to believe the rumours of jealous school girls, but i guess I was wrong. Seems like you aren’t much of a fucking Colonel at all!”. The final words of the sentence were growled out in a tone so low it would have scared her fellow cadets half to death. Her eyes were alight with emotion, her eyes turning a deep green in colour, pupils constricted. The anger was rolling off her in waves. 

“There it is, that's the cadet I had heard all about. Daddy’s little mimic”. His grin was bordering maniac, he was pushing her buttons and striking the nerves he had hoped to, it was just a matter of seeing how much further she was willing to go to defend herself and her reputation. But he knew for sure now, this was his cadet. 

Those words and that stupidly attractive grin was the last straw for the cadet. Without really processing her next move she curled her right hand into a fist and aimed directly for the underside of that chiseled jaw of his, hoping for a knockout, even if she’d face a potential discharge because of it. This man had fucked her off one too many times for her to internalise these emotions. 

The punch thrown at him probably would have knocked him out too, if he hadn’t had the years of experience chasing down criminals in Colombia. He had seen the way her body had gone taught, fist curling, before she had wound her arm back and thrown it forward towards him with such conviction and determination that would have made him proud, if he hadn’t been trying to prove a point. Her plan failed though as he caught her wrist, her fist a mere inch from its intended target. He used her wrist as leverage, while taking a step forward, and slammed her, not all that gently, into the wall behind her.

The air was knocked out of Greyson in an instant, instead of hitting her target, she had ended up pressed between the Colonels’ hard body and the wall behind her. His mouth hovered over her ear, breath hot with each passing exhale, the shiver that wracked her body was not one of fear this time. It seemed as if minutes passed by, she could feel every hard ridge of his body pressed into hers. From his strong thighs right up to his too defined pecs that were pinning her against the wall. He was so close his belt buckle was digging into her stomach. 

She released a shaky breath at the thought. This bastard of a man had pushed her to her breaking point and now held her against the wall like it was nothing. She struggled against him for a short moment, feigning an escape, but he just pushed her wrist closer to the wall and his body impossibly closer to her own. Quiet the compromising situation. 

Carrillo huffed out a laugh at the way the cadet struggled beneath him before slumping in defeat. He had her exactly where he wanted her, she had shown her hand and was now at his mercy. 

“I definitely made the right choice” he murmured against the shell of her ear, delighting in the way she let out the smallest of gasps. “I’d say congratulations, but I guess that's not needed. You're on the team Cadet” and with those final words he released her from his hold and took a step back. Noting the way she slumped against the wall without his support. He had to smirk while taking in her disheveled appearance, she looked positively wrecked. With that final thought he adjusted his uniform and disappeared down the hallway in search of the LT. Colonel, leaving a very confused and very flustered cadet in his wake

[mizumi-xi]

Sweet Treats

Author’s Note: okay so any writing in ‘these’ is thoughts that the character is thinking it is also been put in a different style so you know and thanks for reading.

Origin: story of seasons (3ds game)

Word count: 1,909

Pairing: Raeger x FReader

Warnings: none really just the harsh conditions that come back from reading my writing.

Summary: (y/n) decided to make Raeger a treat on the anniversary of the time they became friends.

~(y/n) POV~

I took myself out of my bed going over to my calendar, identifying the date as the seventh of summer, recognising it’s an anniversary of mine that I hold dear to my heart, nodding to myself. I wandered over to my closet looking through each of the outfits that I own, discovering the blue and white dress I own what I had Picked out last night to wear for this day.

Taking the hangar out of the closet, I scurry to my bathroom to change out of my nightwear and into the bluebell dress. I set my dirty clothes in the hamper before i exit the bathroom once I’m into the wide area of my house I travel to my full-length mirror to style my (h/l) (h/c) hair.

Turning to face my kitchen, I raise my left hand onto the counter as I reach up to the cupboard on the wall to get down my recipe book with my right hand. Holding it in both my palms, I set the bulky book on the counter. Smiling as I scanned the cover “(Y/n)’s book of deserts by Raeger” flipping the pages scanning each open till I pause on page 29 seeing a small design of a pinkish-red pie with a golden pastry topped with pale green rosettes of cream circling the rim of the pastry.

“That’s the one” I murmur to myself as I learn the ingredients nodding to myself as I placed my apron on as I pick up the equipment that I needed placing them on the counter. Turning my head to the fridge I stride up to it gripping the door before opening it scanning the contents of the fridge spotting the watermelon, watermelon juice, kiwi, double cream, condensed milk, lard and margarine taking each of them out of the fridge and setting them onto the counter I move to the cupboard taking out flour placing it beside the other ingredients.

I glance to the clock before I choose the 4-inch pie dish since I was simply making it for one person moving to the side while I prepare the pastry humming a light tune that ends just as I finish preparing the pastry which I then roll up and cling film and set in the fridge to rest.

Grabbing the condensed milk, watermelon, watermelon juice, and cream, I commence on the filling of the pie crust, forming a watermelon cheesecake mix without the cheese. I stare at the bowl with the batter in uttering a little “very pale” opening a draw beside me stumbling through the things before I pull up natural red food colouring.

Opening the vial up I drop a singular drop into the mix before stirring it to catch the colour get sharper as it wound up a colour akin to that of what a watermelon on the inside looks like moving it to the side to take the pastry out of the fridge to assemble the crust before baking it looking at the complete pie components I realise I’m missing an essential part of the pie quickly whipping up the kiwi flavoured cream I check on the time and look in the oven at the pastry taking it out with oven gloves as the pastry turned a golden colour.

After assembling the pie, I set it in a small white box before noticing two hours had occurred; I put the box in the fridge and rush out of my home to take care of to my animals and field. Walking to my field, I take my watering can and sprinkle the strawberries, speaking to them as I say small encouraging comments to the plants.

“That’s it become big my strawberries you will be the tastiest in town” once I finish watering the plants I waddle over to my chicken hut to look after them arranging the grain into the trough I continue to check on the cows spotting my favourite one Cherry a reddish-brown cow running up to her I pat her head as she happily moos.

“Cherry darling guess what day it is” cherry moo’s as if she can understand me “yes that’s right I will travel straight thereafter I have looked after you all” Cherry lets out another moo as she gradually turns away so I could look after them. Placing water in the water trough, I wipe my forehead a little with my forearm and wander out of the cow shed and back into my home to read the time.

Taking a big inhale of air at what the time is now “oh sheesh it took four hours to cover that” mumbling to myself I glance at myself in the mirror before fixing my attire and picking up the box from the fridge in my hands flying out of my house.

Arriving at the entrance of the central part of town, I search around before I rush to the only restaurant in the centre. Looking at the door I spot a closed sign on the door knocking at it lightly I wait before the door gently opens to a dirty blonde haired male in a chef outfit smiling.

“Ah (y/n) what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival at my shop on this day” tilting my head to the side as a cheeky smile appears upon my face as my eyes narrow.

“What can’t your friend come over for an impromptu visit” he shakes his head, chuckling a moment before opening the door further, stepping to the side with his arm out pointing inside. Walking past him into his restaurant, I look to the island bar moving up to it, setting the box on the counter and hopping onto the seat.

Raeger closed the door, striding over to where I was sitting spotting the box that I had set “oh pray tell what you have brought over” I stare astonished at him, my mouth settling into an o shape.

“I-well-um, did you forget today is the anniversary of when we became friends two years ago” a shocked look sprung onto his face before it transformed into a sad one.

“Oh, it is I’m sorry I have got nothing for you I’ve been rather busy” I shake my hand about, laughing softly as I open the box, removing the small pie.

“That’s okay I brought you something that I made. Do you have vanilla ice cream” his face lights up at the sight of the pie then nods running off to the freezer to bring the ice cream as I pick up a plate and set the pie on it out of the tin.

“Here I go it” you spot him rushing back as his words spill out as I take the ice cream out of his hands my fingertips grazing his as I drag it back to scoop up ice cream and plant it in the middle of the pie.

“There ya go it’s a watermelon pie with kiwi cream and vanilla ice cream its to cool you down in this hot summer heat.” he glances up to me with a modest flush to his face before peeking at the pie gasping.

“You used the recipe book I made you” he has a small taste of the pie before staring at me again, stunned. “this is a cheesecake filling,” I hum a little in agreement.

“Yup, I didn’t like how it was gelatine so I produced a cheesecake filling without cheese so it could bring the flavour out better.” he studies the pie before eating more of it humming.

“I guess I know what I could make you do you mind waiting” he stops eating the pie taking the plate with him and placing it in the sink “you’re wonderful at baking you realise that (y/n)” I giggle at his compliment and settle my head against my hand.

“I learnt from the best. Isn’t that right Raeger” winking at him he spins his face away as he hesitates over a few words as he’s creating something “y-yes you di-did I recall when you first asked me to teach you to how to cook you had the same dress on and your hair was longer than it is back then”.

“Do you recall everything back then?” I interrogate him as he puts something in the oven before he twists his entire body to me.

“of course I recall everything it was the fifth time we had met when you requested that. You even suggested we could practice at your home since you realised I don’t like people who aren’t dear to me in my kitchen.” He draws a deep breath before he proceeded, “it’s also the first time I stayed an outfit I genuinely loved but solely on that peculiar person”.

My head tilts to the side as a wrack my brain, struggling to recall who we passed by when traveling to my house, before removing my head from my hand, hitting my fist into my open palm.

“Oh, Angela yeah she was sporting a nice dress that day I didn’t realise you liked her.” he peered at me with a sad expression before exhaling.

“That’s not wh” the timer on the oven had sounded out as he opens the oven to take the creation out as he gradually assembled what he was creating “close your eyes please (y/n)”.

“Oki” I close my eyes as I feel Raeger's presence in front of me before a small cold item was situated against my lips. “Open up please,” a murmur comes from him as I open my mouth slightly as he sets the treat in my mouth as his fingers rest against my lips as their warmth spread over my lips.

“Soft” I open my eyes hearing the murmur of words said but not following them while I savour the taste of the treat in my mouth “huh what did you say” he sways his head, bringing his hand away.

“Nothing, nothing, just savour the gifts” nodding I pop another in my mouth to devour it, beaming as he just watches me.

“They’re amazing you realise that are these a new item on the menu I bet many individuals have loved them the milk chocolate goes nicely with the watermelon gelatine and the kiwi flavoured chocolate goes nicely with the vanilla shortcake,” he looks at me shocked before his face comes back to natural.

“I just came up with them you gave me the thought and no they won’t go on the menu and I’m truly shocked you could taste every flavour,” he looks at the plate of chocolates then back up to me placing his palm on the side of my face rubbing his thumb against my plush cheek “your so wonderful (y/n)”.

~Raeger POV~

‘She’s so beautiful I love how the dress she’s wearing is what drove me to notice her. I love how she asked me to teach her how to cook and I love how every new recipe I create is because I dreamed of her. She is my friend and my first love and I can’t wait to express to her how much I cherish her’.

“No, you are my favourite chef you are incredible” she beams up at me as my palm stands on her soft cheek.

‘She will be the death of me one day’.

[artyloreviews]

Disco Elysium (2019) - A Review and Analysis

A postmodern role-playing game for a much different audience. A combination of skillful artistry and unfulfilled potential. An attempt at tackling difficult topics and pandering to different tastes. A full package, with deceptive contents...

I enjoyed playing through Disco Elysium, but for completely different reasons than those that initially sold the game to me. Going in, I believed that it would be the type of RPG that I had been looking for quite some time – one that is not burdened by most of its interaction with the world happening on a grid, scanning through a list of spells and abilities, franticly pausing every frame, trying to min-max numbers as to not get destroyed by a pack of menacing farm animals of a slightly higher level. Examples of that in the genre would be classics such as Baldur’s Gate or newer re-iterations like Divinity: Original Sin and Shadowrun: Hong Kong. What I would habitually find myself doing is picking up the game, sinking my teeth into it, eventually hitting a numerical roadblock in some quest, and almost immediately retiring to a life of “not playing that game ever again”, as I am faced with the option of either save scumming and beating my head against the numeric wall, until by some fluke of the numbers I get the “good” number and am allowed to proceed; or could just stop doing whatever thing I am currently invested in and go somewhere else on the map, where the numbers are not as disagreeable, so I can get my personal numbers high enough to where the numbers I was having difficulty with before seem less impressive and I can pick up that quest again, but this time only halfway through, struggling to remember contextual cues that were relevant perhaps a few hours ago, but are now a forgotten footnote in some journal entry.

In both cases, the immersion gives way to the idea of gameplay, as the perhaps flawed ideal of an RPG is that which is based on table-top role playing games, such as Dungeons & Dragons, the aforementioned Shadowrun, or anything else that follows the same formula. From my personal experience in TTRPGs, the same issue persists, namely in having meaningful choice and character development take second fiddle to massive 3-5-man 1-2-hour combat encounters in between the more immersive moments of dialogue between players, non-player characters or story development. I’ve always felt that combat is so abstracted from everything else in TTRPGs in the way that it suddenly shifts into an entirely different game, which unlike the elements of role-play is less free-form and bound to a rigid set of rules. You’re no longer interested in how things look, feel or act, but rather how large a number is on a sheet of paper; and this contention of mine seems to always be translated into the video game counterpart of this genre, carrying the same problem from one medium to the other. Games even seem to compound upon the issue, by putting you in charge of multiple characters, where your custom created character is somehow not only equal to them, but at the same time the savior of the universe and all that is holy.

I cannot help but believe that the party ought to be AI controlled pawns, considering that they are supposedly different people with their own goals and aspirations; thus leaving the player to micro-manage their singular character – their avatar in the game world, rather than developing a form of psychogenic schizophrenia by having to deal with each and every one of the party’s members (now, admittedly the remakes of both Baldur’s Gate games have such a feature, but the combat AI is so poor, that you still have to go and remind them that they actually have a whole list of spells that they could be, in fact, using to… for instance, heal you, as you sit there bleeding profusely, crippled and powerless on the ground).

The only games which I have seen managing combat and RPG elements successfully are listed as a fundamentally different genre, known as “immersive sim” or “0451 games”. To name a few, that would be games like those of the Deus Ex, Dishonored and even the Fallout series. Most of those are first-person, for the most part shooters, with some emphasis on a singular character’s development through dialogue and stat point distribution. My main point can roughly be exemplified by comparing the naming convention and the reality for both genres: one is a “role-playing game”, the other is an “immersive simulation”; the first being used deceptively, as you could be playing a multitude of roles at any given time and also suspending that role-play to participate in some rather lengthy tactical combat for what could be 50% of the game’s runtime. On the other hand, you have “immersive sim”, which according to Warren Spector (game designer of Deus Ex and Thief fame) is a game in which “you are there, [and] nothing stands between you and [the] belief that you're in an alternate world”. I simply cannot emphasize enough how even the most engaging narrative and the most skillful writing can be tarnished by this type of abstract combat, which feels so fundamentally foreign and somehow still intrinsic to the idea of role-playing games and immersion.

Disco Elysium seemed to be the odd one out – a RPG that has no combat, except that, initiated by your choices in dialogue (more akin to playing an animation than actual combat). It was also advertised to me as having quite an in-depth ideological system, that was affected by your choices in-game and would automatically adapt dialogue according to your flavor of politics, philosophy or culture through a series of thoughts, which you would internalize, if used often enough. Frankly, it seemed like wish fulfilment for a jaded immersion-loving straight-edge centrist such as myself.

Upon launching the game, I was quickly introduced to the persona that I would be inhabiting – a deranged, drunken amnesiac, who in some cases would pass as a cop, but only if one’s notion of law-abiding is that of a drug-fueled abusive lover; also known as - the farthest thing from me. I already knew that my journey through the game would be that of a redemption arc, where this horrible piece of shit human, was going to become the most squeaky-clean, drug- and alcohol-free centrist known to all of Revachol. A true test of the game’s systems in action – from deranged and corrupt, to the straight and narrow. To my eventual surprise - I could do all of it, and very successfully at that. By the end of my nearly 24-hour playthrough, I had achieved my ideal vision for the character, with only a bit of resistance, which I will briefly mention further down the line. For now, I had succeeded in using all the tools available to me in order to internalize the thoughts for centrism, rejecting any form of drugs, and by the end almost managing to squeeze in the time to internalize being sober, cut short due to the spontaneous conclusion of the game.

The thoughts system was not entirely what I had initially imagined. Namely, what I had envisioned was a system, which converts whatever responses one made throughout the game, into non-internalized thoughts, which would begin to alter the dialogue options available, and only after choosing to emphasize said options, would it eventually internalize and give you a lot more radical options based on said thought. What it would turn out to do instead is make the acquisition of thoughts work in a similar manner, but make the process of internalization a menu, in which you “equip” thoughts into available slots. It seems like a minor inconvenience, but it makes the thoughts feel like yet another item that you just set and forget, rather than the thoughts of a person being actively developed over time, based on what kind of discourse they engage in. I suppose the idea of having it take anywhere from thirty minutes to six hours to internalize is there to be the substitute for the drawn out process of internalization. It is in a way saying “I feel like turning into a centrist in the next thirty minutes.”, while going around doing investigative work around a crime scene. The more active process I envisioned, would indeed take a lot longer, but it would be massively more immersive, as more and more options become available to you over time, rather than after some arbitrary timer has gone down.

Another big detractor is having to use skill points to unlock new slots for thoughts, which would otherwise be put into your more practical skills. Theoretically, one would think a human has an almost infinite capacity for new ideas; and one is surely not going to want to internalize them all. A good example would be the “Volumetric Shit Compressor” thought you gain early into the game, which mainly fulfils its purpose in one skill check for less physically able characters as a part of a single quest and is never made use of again, beyond its flat stat bonuses. No other thought in my playthrough had a temporary pragmatic function like that, which feels like a missed opportunity. Its temporary nature is where the skill-point cost seems absurd, when they could be better used to improve one’s skills. In what way would the character becoming more skillful help them stop “getting their shit together”? Wouldn’t one discard the though immediately after it’s no longer useful? The way the system works currently, meant that I spent most of my points on slots and playing around with thoughts, rather than improving my character until the very last parts of the game, which in effect made the game more difficult than intended. The decision to make thoughts equipable and not persistent passive perks that can upgrade into more radical or complete versions of themselves is perhaps one of my main disappointments with the game. The effect on scope would be minimal, as the game already has the dialogue options for those thoughts written and would only need to change their acquisition and internalization to be less menu-driven and more player-driven.

I tangentially mentioned not having skill-points to freely use until the latter parts of the game: That in turn made skill checks a lot more difficult and perilous, by making white skill checks (ones you can fail and retry upon increasing the skill they require) harder to re-unlock once failed and making red checks (ones that you cannot retry once failed) almost impossible, if not clothed in every stat-boosting piece of apparel in one’s inventory or seasoned with every potentially hazardous bottle of booze or glowing fairy dust left lying on the ground. White checks also do not unlock after one has used a consumable item or changed a piece of clothing to boost said stat, which encourages save scumming, as there is no way to change clothing in the middle of dialogue or knowing what the skill check will be, leading to one of the many pitfalls which I described earlier.

An even greater fault is that some quests just drop dead in their tracks, if the stat check is not completed. Moreover, since one cannot be proficient in all four skill categories, I would regularly hit a brick wall, upon being faced with a Psyche or Physique skill check, as my character mainly specialized in Intellect and Motorics. The thing about hitting a brick wall in Disco Elysium is not so much that you fail and have to face the consequences, but rather cannot continue at all and the narrative stops dead in its tracks until you can succeed the check. Sometimes quests are tied to each other, so not being able to progress in one of them means that you can’t progress in any of them. Suddenly an entire quest chain can just be gone at the click of a button. It got to a point where I would prefer to hear that all my efforts were in vain, fucking everything up irreversibly, rather than having a white check get locked and sit there in my journal, waiting for me to miraculously gain five points in some sub-skill of Physique. One way to fix this would be to have more obfuscated red checks with uncertain odds that lead to failure states. At least that would be more immersive than the current offering, as one could live with the consequences, rather than be left guessing what it could have been if one had slightly higher skills. This, however, could be difficult, as there is a dice roll to every skill. Not being skilled merely means you have less of a chance of succeeding or, alternatively, a higher chance to fail and lock the skill check.

The one thing that the game does great when it comes to skills is the addition of secret tasks. If one were to follow particular lines of inquiry, they often lead to some skill check down the line becoming easier, due to the things learned beforehand about that topic. This system rewards being thorough and attentive and is, perhaps, the best feature of the game. However, observations made through the “shivers” system (where orbs of information will show up contextually above the protagonist’s head, revealing information about the environment or elaborating on something relevant) do not appear to factor into these skill checks. This often leads to you reading something important when it pops up in the overworld, but upon engaging someone in conversation one must often select benign lines of dialogue, acting like one hadn’t made those observations to begin with. The dissonance is even more infuriating whenever Kim (your companion throughout the game) tells you that you are obviously wrong, because he also made those observations but (unlike you) could talk about them. It would have been a lot more diegetic if there were dialogue options available for you to repeat the observation to Kim instead, perhaps as you talk to him in the overworld (a feature that is woefully underutilized, and shows the same five or so options throughout the entire game, except whenever Kim wants to talk to you about something he deems relevant – an ability, which you would think the player should have had as well).

Speaking of the overworld, Disco Elysium does quite a lot with the small real-estate it has on its map. For what feels like a small neighborhood, it packs tens of hours of content, a varied cast of characters and lots of places to explore. Walking around is encouraged by the game, almost to a fault. At many points during the game Kim will remark upon your seemingly absurd ability to run around without getting tired. There even comes a point where you are injured, and are told not to run to avoid further harming yourself. After about twenty hours I realized that this was in order to signal to the player that if they run all over the place, trying to finish everything as quick as possible, they would be left with a lot of extra time at the end of the day, which would have been perhaps better spent looking into side-quests or other optional activities. However, the walk speed is woefully slow and with the amount of backtracking one needs to do, means that you will be seeing the same places plenty of times, which only tempts you even more to not waste your precious time RP-walking. The game has benches, which you can use to pass the time, but they are only available whenever Kim is not with you, which is only durring the night, meaning you can’t make any meaningful progress by resting on one, effectively making them worthless. That and the presence of time-gated tasks, means you will most likely be trying to find ways to waste your time, prompting Kim to berate you even more for straying away from the main focus of the narrative, as he often does. If you’re a fast reader, the game luckily fast-forwards time based on how many options you’ve selected, rather than real-time. This is most apparent whenever you’re save scumming and going though entire trees of dialogue you’ve already read.

And you will be reading a lot, as this is what you signed up for when you relinquished the combat systems of your typical RPGs. A welcome change, I might add, as the dialogue is beautifully written and engaging for tens of hours. (The end credits even thank Chris Avellone for what is probably him lending a bit of his Midas touch when it comes to game writing.) However, there are of course flaws in the way Disco Elysium decides to portray some of its characters, as it is sometimes more interested in making political statements in a very one-note way that might shock some people, rather than what one would think are nuanced and fleshed out personas. A large part of the cast is wearing a thick layer of existentialism, which they seem to flaunt upon every given opportunity. The same goes for characters who clearly exhibit some variety of political radicalism; you’ve got your racist nationalist, your bourgeois-eating communist, your fence-sitting centrist (dubbed moralist) and a whole swath of colorful opinionated people whom you either interact with or endure. Everyone else is mostly pleasant to be around, if not a bit saddening, due to the overall melancholic way of life people of Disco Elysium are forced to lead, influenced by factors that they alone cannot control; an overall sense of futility present at every turn. Most of them have quirks that help them cope with their predicament, which you can explore in full detail through in-depth dialogue trees, leading to some intriguing interactions and ultimately some interesting consequences down the line. Every line of dialogue seems to have a lot of those, which is surprising for a game that so haphazardly makes you select dumb questions for answers you already know. An example of that is the one occasion in which I used a particular brand of alcohol to boost my “Pain Threshold” in order to open a certain mission-critical freezer. Which towards the end had Kim labeling me as someone who “drinks on the job”, even after becoming sober and internalizing the thought that removes all positive effects from alcohol, as well as the action leading to us retrieving an item, which we would later use to further the plot. Instead as a one-off sacrifice of one’s principles, it was seen as a major transgression that would only lead people into thinking of me as even more of a raging alcoholic, rather than someone who is trying to recover and “get their shit together”, as it were.

A major part of the game’s rhetoric is lost to those who do not have a dictionary that has been well tempered through copious forms of political jargon, coming from a various selection of manifestos, academic political analyses and some of the more famous philosophical works for the last century. I would go as far to say that some of the sentiments the game presents are absolutely impenetrable when it comes to wording. I’ll give you an example:

Heartache is powerful, but democracy is *subtle*. Incrementally, you begin to notice a change in the weather. When it snows, the flakes are softer when they stick to your worry-worn forehead. When it rains, the rain is warmer. Democracy is coming to the Administrative Region. The ideals of Dolorian humanism are reinstating themselves. How can they not? These are the ideals of the Coalition and the Moralist International. Those guys are signal blue. And they're not only good -- they're also powerful. What will it be like, once their nuanced plans have been realized?

If you immediately recognized that it was about centrism, then congratulations – you are a lot smarter than me and probably everyone else around you. For you Disco Elysium is the perfect college-level textual experience for your Tuesday-night 1960’s poetry club. For the rest of humanity, it’s a bunch of gibberish. Flowery prose and poetics are riddled everywhere and you're never really sure what you're doing, what thoughts you're thinking or what's happening to you.

I mentioned briefly that the game tries to depict centrism as a form of moralism (a term which it prefers over the former). Even so, it presents centrism as less of an effort to hold multiple perspectives and act with a full and informed range of understanding, but rather as the stereotypical “fence-sitting” argument, where no decision can be made now, and progress can only be obtained through a slow, incremental process. While on the surface, it would seem so – as a self-proclaimed and passionate centrist, I cannot help but disagree with the outsider view that the game seems to be promoting, favoring critique of the right and an emphasis towards the left side of the political compass (making small but insignificant jabs towards both throughout). Contextually, the game’s developers Studio ZA/UM, have displayed a clear favor of the political left in their public appearances, which may explain this somewhat skewed perspective. While it’d be lovely to go on about the politics of ideology, it’s better not judge the contents of the game based on the developers’ ideological affiliation, but rather on its own merits.

Considering the amount of reading one needs to do, I would hesitantly say that Disco Elysium is part RPG, part choose-your-own-adventure visual novel. I say RPG, because of the aforementioned brick walls, inhibiting progress in a way that no immersive sim ever would, as there would be multiple ways to get the same information, which is sadly not a thing Disco Elysium does well. The sheer volume of the text is also a cause for some, I would suppose, aesthetic concerns about the game. Graphically, the game is stunning with its unique painterly style, but it often values it over function, namely in having the UI serve little to no purpose, as Kim and your portraits take up the entire bottom left of the screen. At the same time the dialogue panel is put on the far right side of the screen, even though two thirds of it are spent zoomed in on some 3D models doing their idle animations, instead of having the text front and center, as the thing you will be most likely looking at for 90% of your time with the game. Other technical issues include shadows being displaced from where they should be, especially on stairs, as well as being incredibly jagged for a game that doesn’t really have high hardware requirements and very little real-time lighting, but all of this is frankly unintrusive, compared to the cramps in your neck from looking to your right all the time.

Every once in a while, you get to enjoy not having to read, as a select few scenes are entirely voice-acted by a talented cast. I am unsure, however, of the production team behind the recordings, as they seem to sound as if recorded in home studios with different microphones and sound processors. Other than that, the quality and range of the performances is wonderful, especially since it is coming from some lesser known actors in the industry.

When it comes to sound, the game does a fantastic job of establishing a lot of varied soundscapes for an admittedly small plot of land. The music is ambient, droning and subtle in all the ways that make you not think about it, until you are sitting there listening to the soundtrack on your own time, remembering all the scenes that every piece of music has lifted from monotony. All of the tracks have this aging, somber tone to them, much like the world they are written for, making the music an unavoidable essential part of the experience, as you walk the fields of Revachol with the wind blowing and the small creek near you emitting a slight babble. The only downside is that the mixing of all these layers is often horribly unproportioned. Everything will be quiet, until some random intercom plays two straight minutes of loud white noise into your ear. Those parts are few and far between, but still leave a surprisingly large impression for an otherwise spotless execution of foley and ambience.

Overall, Disco Elysium is a full package. While not necessarily the game that I hoped it would be, it was still an enjoyable experience with an incredible main quest, memorable characters and side quests, elevated by wonderful sound design and fantastic ambient music, with writing that will be unparalleled for years to come. While it is not without its flaws, and some of them are quite major - it does what it set out to do with flying colors and is sure to appeal to a lot of people, who have been looking for an experience such as this. For me, however, it also represents a lot of squandered potential. It is by no means an ideal game – far from it; but I would still recommend you play through it for yourself, just to see where it takes you. It has a way of challenging you intellectually, that not a lot of games can pull off, especially nowadays. It is an admirable endeavor in tackling difficult topics, whilst also spinning an intriguing narrative that keeps you invested until the very end.

Score: 7/10

[hinatashoyo-desu]

Monday, April 27, 2018; 04:44am

Hi! Ngayong lang ako ulit nakapagsulat dito. Yung maayos. Hahahaha! I just want to say na I miss you, my journal. My only true friend. Alam mo ma bakit ako bumalik? Sorry ah ngayon lang kita na-update. Marami lang talaga nangyari sakin these past years na di kita nakakausap. So eto magkukwento na ko.

Naaalala mo pa ba yung huling entry ko dito? Na-in love ako kay Rom diba? Yung bestfriend ko dati! I hope you remember. After non kasi I was so devastated. I felt like I lost everything. Even yung pagmamahal ko sa sarili ko nakalimutan ko na. Di ko alam kung sino ba talaga ako that time. Ano ba talaga purpose ko ganon. Years have passed. Maraming naka-fling and shit just to make myself satisfied, temporarily. Sama ko no? Sorry. I became the person (a demon I guess) that I hated the most. Hirap. After ko gawin yung mga bagay na ayaw kong gawin, I feel so empty pa rin. I got really lost. Immersed in darkness.

Until, I met this young lady here, on tumblr. That's 2017 na when I got a chance to know her. Joanne yung name niya. She' kind and sweet. Pero alam mo ba, hindi dapat ako magko-commit to her? I just realized na siya yung magiging partner na hindi naibigay sakin ni Lord thru kay Rom. Ang pangit nga ng first meetup namin eh. Sobrang pangit. And it's all my fault, friend. I'm so sorry. I did tell you naman na I became the person I hated the most and I'm not proud of it. But things changed after our meetup. That very moment when I felt her hug, so tight to the point na ayaw pa niyang umuwi, I wept. I felt my emptiness after that hug. Yung pagod at bigat ng nararamdaman ko, pinaramdam niya sakin yon. She made me realized something that even I can't put it into words. I felt love once again. The love that I was longing for.

So yun nga, nasundan yung pagkikita namin then we consider it na kami na nga. Student pa siya nito. Graduating na siya ng BSHM (Hospitality Management. Pinalit sa HRM) Nagpakilala na ko sa family niya and same goes sa side ko. I introduced her to my nanay and pamangkins. Saka kapatids. Sa side naman niya, I really made an impact. As in, nanligaw ako! Every time na pupunta ako sa kanila, (btw, she lives in Bulacan and I'm from Cavite so... Yeah. I am reverting back to normal.) I always cook for them. Agahan, tanghalian, hapunan. Name it. I'll cook it for them. Nahihiya pa nga sakin yung mama at papa niya kasi bakit ako daw pinagluluto niya. I insisted to cook for them kasi sabi ko masaya ako na pinagluluto ko sila. Saka minsan lang ako makapunta sa kanila kaya sinusulit ko na.

Then dumating na yung big day niya. MAMARTSA NA SIYA!!! KUKUNIN NA NIYA DIPLOMA NIYA!! Nagpaalam ako kay nanay kasi madaling araw ako aalis non sa bahay kasi nga sa Bulacan punta ko. Sinabi ko na aattend ako ng graduation ceremony ni Joanne. Saka pangako ko sa kanya yon na every breakthrough na magkakaron siya, nandoon palagi ako sa tabi niya, sumusuporta. Tapos yun na nga, nakapunta ako and nasamahan ko siya sa important date sa buhay niya! Saya! Sobrang saya ko that time kasi yung dating pinapangarap kong gawin sa partner ko, nagagawa ko na paunti-unti. Para akong nananaginip ng tuloy-tuloy. Pero syempre, we're in this reality na hindi sa lahat ng oras, masaya. Hindi araw-araw pasko, kaibigan. We had our struggles, arguments, fights, sleepless nights kasi minsan magdamag kaming magkaaway. Not so good. But we learned our lessons in every trials. We kept each other for almost 2 years. Yes, my friend. 2 years lang ang tinagal namin.

She left me. Why? Napagod siya. Bakit? Gawa ko. There's this tendency of mine na kapag comfortable na ako sa tao, sumosobra. Nakakampante masyado. And again, I'm very sorry for that. Nasa huli talaga ang pagsisisi. And admit ko rin sa'yo, kahit masaya kami sa isa't isa, I was tempted. And yes, I gave in. I cheated on her. Sorry. Sobrang sorry. Galit na galit ako sa mga kapwa ko lalaki na nagagawang manloko ng partner nila pero tignan mo, pati pala ako ganon. And yes, nagalit ako sa sarili ko. At that very moment, unti-unti na kong nagka-crumble. I'm shaking. My feelings, thoughts, and everything that I hold so dear, they started to fall. Little by little, I can't grasp them anymore. In short, naging burden na ko sa kanya. We started long fights to the point na wala talagang pansinan. She became my strength when I was so weak. But this time, she's the one now who's taking it away. Bakit? Kasi nga napapagod na siya. And I can't blame her for doing the same mistake as I did. It's my karma. But shit! Really! SO MUCH SHIT!! I cried so hard when I found out na she also cheated on me. Well, it's my karma as I said. Unti-unting naglaho lahat ng tiwala at pagmamahal namin. Until such time, she chose to give up. She chose to let me go. I can't blame her. It's all my fucking fault. Sinubukan ko pang isalba ang kakaunting meron pa kami pero ayaw na niya. Sumuko na siya. Tapos na ang laban. That time, I wore a mask and sunglasses after ko sumakas ng bus pa-Manila. It's like I'm hiding from someone but kung alam lang nila, I'm hiding my pain from them. The pain that lingers long enough to question my own worth. The tears that are telling me na I lost the fight. We both lost it. And again, it's all my fault. She ended it April 2019. (Yes friend, this time last year nangyari yon.)

Di ko na mabilang kung ilang gabi akong walang tulog non. Mga gabing pupunta ako sa shop para maglaro. Para makalimot. Pero every time that I open our past conversations, I felt so much pain to the point na wala na ulit akong maramdaman. Bumalik ulit ako sa bagay kung pano niya ko nakilala nung una. Grabe no? The displacement is still, zero. Walang progress.

Months have passed and I got my job in the resort na mina-manage ng pinsan ng tropa ko. Barista ako sa cafe don. After ko tanggapin yung job offer sakin, naaalala ko yung conversation namin na pagkasweldo ko sa unang sahuran namen, ililibre ko siya. As in lahat ng gusto niya sa isang araw, ako bahala! Pangako na namin yon sa isa't isa that time. Kaso wala. It's all too late.

Dati kasi walang-wala talaga ako non. Para lang makapunta ako sa kanila minsan, siya na nagpapadala that time para lang makapag-kita kami. Hindi ko siya mahindian kasi una, siya yung may gusto at iniinsist niya talagang pumunta ako. Nakakahiya namang tanggihan sa punto pa lang na yon. Pangalawa, gusto ko rin siyang makita. Saka hangga't may pagkakataon, pupunta talaga ako sa kanila. I wanted to create memories for us to cherish whenever opportunities present themselves. Sabihin mo nang oportunista ako pero sa kaso kasi namin, LDR kami. Mahirap na setup pero ginawan namin ng paraan.

Balik tayo sa timeline na may work na ko.

I immersed myself sa work para makalimot. Effective. Naggo-grow ako. Nagkakaron ako ng ideas professionally and syempre sa character ko. Unti-unti kong nagagawa yung passion ko to serve other people through food and beverage. And syempre, best quality service! Meeting new people, creating new relationships, and also getting a chance to get ideas na binabayaran ka pa after. Galing no? Sana proud ka sakin. Isipin mo naka-1 year na ko sa work!!! Yieee!!

Pero dumating din yung time na napapagod ako. Yung tinatanong ko na sarili ko kung kaya ko pa ba. Kung gusto ko pa ba. Ito ba talaga yung para sa akin? Lagi kong tanong yan when I got from series of mistakes sa work. Nakakalungkot. Minsan mararamdaman mo na kahit di nila sabihin, gusto ka na nilang tanggalin sa work mo. Lately ko na lang din na-confirm yung pakiramdam na yon nung nag-away yung mga boss ko. (Oo mga boss. 3 boss ko don: Mag-asawa tas yung isa asawa nung president nung resort. About sa business yung pinag-awayan so no worries. Hindi ito telenovela.)

My boss always talk to me na kaya ko naman daw basta ayusin ko lang daw ginagawa ko. I'm trying naman eh but it's so hard. Ewan ko. Siguro kasi di pa talaga ako ready for some serious kind of work kasi nga sobrang broken ako when I said yes to this job. Mali yung intention ko nung umoo ako. And again, I'm sorry. It's all my fault.

So yan. Yan yung mga nangyari sakin for the past years na wala akong entry dito. Sorry ulit ah? Sorry talaga. Pero wait, there's more!!! Namiss kita eh kaya susulitin ko na to. Baka matagalan na ulit bago kita makausap.

You know why I got the urge to write here? Because first, I watched "The Hows of Us". Tangina. Ang sakit. Lahat ng kinwento ko sa'yong pain and memories na sobrang saya, lahat yon bumalik nung pinanuod ko yung movie. Si Joanne kasi is very similar kay George. Yung sobrang supportive to the point na napagod na rin siya. Tangina! And syempre, na-realize ko ako pala si Primo! The one who values pride more than any other. Pagkakaiba lang namin? Siya kasi napapansin niya na napapagod na partner niya. Ako? Late ko na narealize when we broke up. Sobrang basura ko.

Lastly, someone reminded me to write. Yes! SOMEONE REMINDED ME TO FUCKING WRITE! Hindi naman niya sinabi verbally pero she made me realize something. Meron pala akong journal dito. Thank her, my friend! Hahaha! Dahil sa kanya, meron ulit akong entry dito!

I met her here, sa tumblr. Her blog show itself sa suggestions ng mga bloggers na pwede i-follow. Maganda siya. Got glasses, looks smart and kind tas mahinhin. I backread her blog. Mali ako dun da mahinhin. May pagka-tarantado rin pala. HAHAHAHA! Pero what I really admire about her is that, yung character kasi niya is so intact! She got a past that's so dark but she faced it, anyway. Tangina bro! Yung respeto ko sa kanya biglang sumipa pataas hahaha! PAAAWER! I followed her after that and syempre dahil hopeless romantic ako pero ayoko na maging torpe, I messaged her here. We got our talks. Di ako nagkamali sa first impression ko sa kanya na she's smart. Dude! She really, is smart! And damn! She's beautiful inside and out. Sobrang nakaka-melt gago! I told her na yun nga, I got a crush on her already and I'm always admiring her. Ayoko na kasi itago minsan yung mga ganon kasi baka pagsisihan ko pa, and syempre, she deserves to hear and feel such admiration kasi diba? Why not? Hahaha!

I asked her her facebook and she gave it naman so I added her. Gulat ako kasi tangina may mutual kami?! AND TROPA KO PA SA DATI KONG SCHOOL?! So tinanong ko siya kung san niya nakilala yung mga yon. Sabi niya di niya alam kasi basta na nga lang daw siya nag-aaccept dati (dati pa naman yon. Maingat na siya ngayon) kaya ayun.

Tas yon we had our conversations everyday. Ako naman yung nagchachat lagi. Ewan ko feeling ko nga nakukulitan na yon sakin eh. Pero you know what, simula nung magkaron kami ng deep talk, di na ko sure kung admiration na lang ba yon. When I'm talking to her kasi tas she responds, I feel peace. I feel so light. LIPAD AKO TWENG! Hahahaha joke! Kidding aside, she makes me love myself again. She makes me believe na I can be more of just who I am today. She encourages me to be better though di ko alam kung alam ba niya na ganon. Lately kasi, I'm having my anxieties kicking in my head kasi nga quarantine. Minsan pag kinakausap ko siya, she always tells me kung ano-ano nanaman daw iniisip ko. Alam ko naman! Hahaha! Ang hirap lang kasi labanan yung sarili pag ganon. Sana nagegets mo ko. Tas yon, I hope she understands me. Tas lagi ko sinasabi sa kanya na gusto ko siya ma-meet and makilala personally and since nalaman ko favorite type of pasta niya, I told her na I'll cook for her para matikman niya (favorite ko din kasi yujlng favorite niya so... Ehe) and syempre gusto ko din ma-meet yung family niya. Especially, yung lolo and lola niya. I just want to thank them for raising a person like her kasi tangina! SOBRANG DALANG NA NG TAONG GANON SA MUNDO NGAYON! And yon she really is an epitome of true beauty, I tell you!

I always tell her na yun nga sa halos araw-araw na nagkakausap kami, unti-unti kong nagugustuhan personality niya. Tho tamad siya magreply (w/c is a triggering part sa anxiety ko kasi baka ayaw na niya ko kausap ganon kasi nga ang kulit at ang daldal ko to the point na nonsense na yung sinasabi ko), she always reminds me na she's always there for me to listen and be a friend. Wala. Dun ako lalong tinamaan sa kanya. Gago! Nung nabasa ko yung message niyang yon, sabihin mo nang weak ako pero bro, naluha ako. She made me feel my worth. Na worthy ako kausap. Worthy ako magkwento kasi makikinig siya. Bro worthy daw ako kasi kahit papano, nag-iinvest siya ng time makipag-usap sakin. Tangina! Wala! Talo ako! Di ko na pwedeng lokohin sarili ko boy! Gusto ko siya! Kaya lagi kong sinasabi sa kanya na after this ECQ season, I'm going to find a way to meet her personally and cook for her. She deserves it, anyway. This time, I'll make it right. I'll do it the right way. Kahit sabihin mong makaluma dud, liligawan ko siya in a traditional way. She deserves it, really! (Saka laking lolo at lola siya so diba?) She made me realize na it's not too late to start anew. The sun sets but it rises again. Hays. Sana talaga! Sana! Sana mabigyan niya ko ng chance na makilala siya. Sana mabigyan niya rin ako ng chance na iparamdam sa kanya yung mga kaya kong ibigay. Huhu. Sana talaga!

So yon. Yun muna. Sulit no?! Feeling ko pag may nakabasa na nitong entry ko, maraming mag-a-unfollow saken HAHAHA! Sana di siya kasama don. 😢 So pano? Sa susunod na taon na lang ulit?! LOLjk. Will update you after nitong ECQ. Salamat sa pagiging journal ko. Wag ka mawawala ha? See you next time!!

PS: Nakalimutan kong ipakilala pala sa'yo. She's my "Happy pill".

[halorocks1214]

For the writing ask! 13, 16, 21, 34, and 44, please!

Aaaaa thanks for asking! I’m sorry for the essay I’m about to give RIP

13.) Describe your writing process from idea to polished

Haha, to put it mildly: it’s kind of a mess

For exceptionally long multi-chaptered stuff, I usually create a semi-detailed to really-detailed outline out of worry I’ll forget stuff, which eventually ends up split into chunks by chapter number. For oneshots, regardless of length, I tend to plop myself down and starting writing, point blank period. I can’t think of any oneshot I’ve created recently or otherwise where there was an outline beforehand

Outline or not, both methods involve one key detail: I write completely and totally out of order. When I’m writing a scene and my brain just refuses to continue because it can’t think of anything/really wants to write something else, I finish the sentence I’m on, insert three plus signs where I stopped and hop to the part I know I’ll have a much better time creating. After I’ve written everything that came relatively easy to me, I go find all of my ‘+++’s and essentially pad in transitions and such. If those transitions become hard to write, well, I just add more ‘+++’s until there are none left. I tend to have a lot of ‘+++’s when I’m working on a WIP. It’s a miracle my fics are strung together as smooth as they are sometimes

Then, I take a break away from the WIP. Whether I leave the computer entirely or just go do something else online, I let the words leave my mind as much as possible. Ranging from a few hours to a couple of days, I eventually come back to the fic. Now it’s time for our wonderful friend proofreading to come in!

I am a One-Woman Show, so I try my best to catch anything egregious or totally unintelligible. Following the first proofread, depending on how much I actually like my work, I either wait a few minutes/hours again or I just proofread it a second time immediately. After the second proofread, it’s upload time, for better or for worse

Bonus: I have a bad habit of constantly rereading my stuff after posting it because I’m that much of a perfectionist. It’s probably a good thing I do, though. Because of my hyper-aware-of-mistakes train, I see things I probably never would have noticed even on something akin to a 4th or 5th proofread.

Still, if you read a fic of mine immediately after it was uploaded and come back a day or two later, you’ll probably find some things different lmao

16.) How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied with a project?

Considering my fics never leave the Google Docs I start them on to see the light of day I’m gonna count ‘drafts’ as ‘times proofread’. Going with this, I technically have about 2-3 drafts. Add in my poor habit of editing out kinks after posting it to the public, I’d say about 3-5 (I get really anxious about certain stories oof)

34.) What was the hardest scene you ever had to write?

Giiiivvvee me a sec to find something lol. I’m taking this question as ‘what scene hurt you the most to create’ and not ‘what did you just struggle with writing in general’. The latter is boring because I can think of five dull conversations between characters I’ve made that were torture to get down

Ah, here’s something I struggled through (graphic depictions of violence ahoy, as well as bad writing/grammar. Sheesh, this is only two years old!):

Before Merek could even go into shock at the idea, the clippers came up and did their job, effectively leaving a gash, cutting through completely, on each lip between a fourth and half an inch long (the one on the top lip reached his nose almost). It was like he had two pairs of lips instead of one.

The man let go of Merek completely and started walking out of the cell. Merek slid down the wall and brought his hands to his new wound. Jesus, he was somewhat of an unflappable person, but right now all he wanted to do was throw up.

Part of him knew he couldn’t, especially with the wound, but another was just constantly trying to get him to say ‘fuck it’. Before any decision could be made, Merek felt his sister kneel at his side. Huh, he was on the verge of shock, how shocking.

44.) How much research do you do?

Uuuuuhhh, it depends on the type of fic really

If it’s something I’m highly interested in, I will have tabs upon tabs of info to make sure what I’m writing down is correct. Other times when I’m busy or it’s not really the main point of the story, I go with minor research and being vague

Instead of worrying about if my facts are right, I can insert what I do know and pad around that. Maybe I’m just a worry-wort, but I have less of a chance at being told I’m wrong if the reader can just insert the information themselves into the spots I leave blank. It’s half “I’m a weakling and can’t take criticism” and half “I’m just fucking lazy” 

Feel free to keep asking and maybe I’ll dump an essay on you too! ;3

[tartareus]

CAOS MUSES CANON DIVERGENCE; not unlike many here, i too found the third act of sabrina’s adventures a bit…lacking, to say the least. bad writing got me more and throwing character development to the bin made me finally decide that i am not going to accept most of what happened as true -  i will, however try to keep the changes to mininal as a say to make canon complying muses’ interactions with mine run smoothly.

for starters: my edward, salem and my della are primarily based on the comics (the chilling adventures of sabrina and sabrina the teenage witch) + my own head canons, therefore do expect their nature to be a bit darker\different than the show presents them. with that in mind…

edward did not die - he was in a circle of hell trapped inside a tree. once lucifer’s power over hell waned, the prision that kept the warlock there started to weaken and, thus, eventually he got out, finally free… only to find himself in…

queen lilith’s hell - yes, i am not going for that idea of lilith not being their queen, more than anyone else she does deserve the title, she worked for it and there is no point to not make all the effort during pt1 and 2 to go without a reward; for that to happen, though, i still accept the plot that sabrina went after nick, but instead of just taking satan back to earth…

edward becomes the morningstar’s host - besides being more than capable of taking him, edward is a known, talented, conjurer, had a somewhat deal or even relationship with empusa (a shape shifting demon), he knows how demons work. he knows what to expect and, other than that, he knows the boy will struggle. he won’t. although his very own existence is kept a secret from sabrina, in a similar fashion of b.ckwood, instead of struggling for dominance, edward will try and strike a bargain with lucifer (unknown to anyone else), if only to be sure that everything goes along with his own secret agenda…

he still helps zelda, though - as he is in hell and is not dead but trapped there, he makes use of some of lucifer’s powers to cross the veil and go for their aid.

della still remains a head witch - that is, still works for the council in rome, but with a slighly different twist. she herself is a hedgewitch. i’ve thought about this, and what it would mean for her character (originally in the sttw comics as sabrina’s mentor and the one that tried to guide her to the path of night, and them also as the queen of sabbath in the tcaos comics) and it seems that it just might fit her character altogether. hedgewitches are, after all, very old, powerful, lone witches who are but a few - which was what i was going for her originally. with that in mind, i have come to an hc that

della has her own very unique abilities - much like gryla, sycorax, and pesta, della possesses her own abilities as her own deal was slightly different. instead of having an aggressive ability like pesta and sycorax, she has a spiritual one - although not too similar from gryla’s ability to gather the spirits of her lads - that is very subtle: she can walk through the veil between the living and the dead, roaming in the in between without the fear of never returning (unless, of course, it is her time). that means that in her astral projections the psychopomps do not acknowledge her presence at all, one of the reasons she was hired by the council.

her age is hard to determinate -  she is clearly younger than the members of the council, but way older than the spellmans. to maintain her youth and looks, and not require a powerful glamour that would make her tired and weak if she kept holding for years, della consumes babies, mostly mortal orphans, in order to survive. that ritual is only required after some centuries (if it is a witch baby) or after the lifetime that mortal would’ve had. for that, it is needless to say that…

her relationship with gryla is of mutual hate and disdain - for the two of them are rivals in their quest for younger souls. although gryla herself has no choice but pick orphans, della prefers them because it usually avoids the whole ordeal of stealing a child. imagine how complicated it must’ve gotten when she answered the distress call from the coven in greendale…

although she is part of not coven, per se, della goes to their aid - or rather, is summoned against her own will, but she’s never going to admit that. particularly taking great joy at hunting the pagans, chasing them off greendale in the timeline that was fixed. in the broken timeline (aka the end of the world), not unlike ambrose (however using slightly shadier strategies) she managed to survive and remained hidden, safe in a witch’s cell in the vatican’s necropolis. sadly, she does end up going a little mad, but before she loses it all…

she manages to send ambrose some books that once belonged to the council - in hopes that these unholy scriptures, that had never been to the access of other witches and warlocks other than the scholars of rome, would help, hoping that he would be able to do what she had failed to: figure a way out of this mess.

salem is not a goblin but, in fact, a mortal curse by a witch he scorned centuries ago. cursed to become her familiar, after the witch he was forcibly bound to died during the salem trials the dark lord himself appeared before him, telling him that he would only lift the curse if he sold his soul to him - which he did, however what samuel (his mortal name) failed to realise was that he had not been specific as the date he should be free and, as such, the father of lies told him he would only be free once he had met, served and protected a white haired witch that was and was not daughter of night. it took centuries for him to find her, but when he saw sabrina he knew inside his old bones that it was her. 

he has come to terms to his current situation - he used to be a good christian, yes a bit reckless and an asshole with how he treated women, but he changed.  it was a hard lesson he had to learn. as he learned to repent, he also learned to understand the nature of witches better. they reacted with what they had. as such, he started to grow fond of sabrina and her family, even her friends (although he does not fancy being treated like an ordinary house pet).

he never liked robin nor lilith (when she was pretending to be ms wardwell), hissing soundly at them as he deemed them a probably threat to his witch.

lucifer granted him a couple of gifts to endure his long life - magical abilities akin to a warlock’s (but never enough to turn himself into human again, at least not for a long while) and speech (although he spent such a long time silent that he wonders if his throat still can produce anything other than a felinesound), as well seven lives. he is currently on the begining of his last life.

in both timelines salem tries to protect the spellmans - in the broken timeline, salem is dead (with satan no longer on the throne to secure his powers, the cat, much like the witches he served, started to weaken), probably trying to find sabrina and failing miserably. in the fixed timeline, he stays with zelda and mambo, refusing to leave her side. as they escaped, salem found that a good way to distract them was by attacking blackwood with the last remnants of his strength, unaware that faustus beared the mark of cain. wounded, he hides behind vinegar tom, trusting that the protective magic surrounding zelda’s old familiar (which she insisted that was still alive, just his vessel dead), would keep them from fiding him. he eventually recovers his strength and rejoins the spellmans, but feels something off, as if there was something wrong with sabrina.

overall, my main pet peeve with this season was how poorly handled some archs were. as much as i love the new order of hecate (which btw sounds very pagan to me but okay), i wish they had kept the church of lilith and, as such i will accept both realities and place them in different timelines, especially for hilda. 

i do hc that she still prays for her, away from zelda’s hearing of course, because when she was in the pit (unaware that they were praying for hecate) and in the in between when zelda and edward left, she prayed for her even though she is not the religious type, and came out of it alive. it was only after all that mess that she realised that maybe her prayers were in vain, but she didn’t mind at all.

i also hc that, after her spidey-incident she's been getting a bit uneasy near her own familiars (and they seem to notice that too, being slightly worried for her), she also decides to take a break from her relationship with cee; even though she loves him, and he proposed, she almost killed him ( and may or may not have tried to make him fertilize her eggs , unholy fuck that sentence shall haunt me for some good while) and that starts to make her realise that their relationship might be too dangerous for him, as a mortal. he already faced a witch hunter to protect her and now this? the last thing she wants is to cause him harm.

with mambo being around to look after zelda, hilda just might look for a place of her own, perhaps a little cottage in england as she so desires. it's not that she doesn't want to be part of the coven, or better the order, but even for her, non-religious and almost skeptical, bouncing off from deity to deity is not proving to be a good thing. besides, she's grown quite a backbone (about damn time) and she will no longer endure how she has been treated by her sister - i will elaborate further on the domestic abuse and the ptsd hilda suffers from being killed so many times and the mutual codependency of her relationship with her sister on a separate post, eventually

sometimes hilda puts a few drops of a soothing draught on zelda's food, because apparently if she asks for her sister to take a deep breath or watch her blood pressure it is a reason to receive a dark look. Sl instead of fretting and being pushed away, she just gets it done anyway. it is also comforting for her to know how easily she could kill zelda by putting something lethal on her food. whilst she does entertain herself with these thoughts, she knows she would never be able to kill her ow flesh and blood.

she raised ambrose almost mostly by herself, back when she lived in England. as her first child,she did spoil him rotten. Hilda never really thought of having kids herself, being demiromantic/demisexual she couldn't find it in herself to partake on the coven's festivities and enjoy lupercalia with a random witch or warlock, zelda was the baby crazy one, who had held sabrina almost possessively. she spoiled sabrina as well, perhaps due to Edward's recent death or because she knew how much her murders took their toll on her young niece, but not enough to "ruin" her as zelda always made sure.

although she could easily wear glamours to look more like the rest of her family (tall and slender), hilda learned with time to love herself, being more positive both inside and out.

[a-cai-jpg]

if you’ll stay with me, we can rewrite the rules of the universe

"does she have to go away? can't they just live together happily?" - director son, melo is my nature

there's an idiom in chinese that i think about a lot.

天下没有不散的酒席

the first time i heard it, it was season 2 of a drama i loved as a kid--three years old, sitting too close to an old, heavy color television, my cousin warm by my elbow, and my grandmother's voice drifting in from the kitchen.

(it's a technicolor memory, filtered a little yellow with age.)

season 3 of this drama is something i try to never watch.

first of all, they changed the cast, and even though leo ku is a beautiful man, he couldn't replace the legend, alec su.

(we don't talk about the new female lead.)

second of all, shit hits the fan and the character i loved the most becomes the character i hated the most.

third of all,

the idiom becomes true.

(there is no such thing as a banquet that never ends.)

see, the drama is about two girls who meet each other in historical beijing and become sworn sisters despite being polar opposites of each other. where one is gentle and demure, the other is reckless and brash. one of them (guess which?) happens to be the long-lost daughter of the sitting emperor. the other girl promises to help her reach her father. after a series of unfortunate events, the emperor crowns the wrong girl as princess. season 1 is about the fake princess sneaking the real princess into the palace, their struggles with palace life and figuring out a way for the emperor to recognize his real daughter without executing his fake one, and them falling in love--one with the 5th prince and the other with a son of a palace official.

eventually, the misunderstandings are addressed, and the emperor realizes he loves both girls too much to have harm come to either of them, so he recognizes both as his daughters. more things happen, but eventually, the two girls get married, and it's happily ever after.

BUT.

but they decided to make a season 3.

(in hindsight, it makes sense, because the non-blood related princess could have never lived a happy life caged in the palace, but it's nice to dream ok)

season 3 ends with the non-blood related princess and the prince she marries (my childhood crush) leaving the palace for good, and thereby giving up the throne, to live in yunnan. many, many years later, a carriage arrives at their tea field, and it's the emperor visiting them during the last years of his very long reign.

even writing this really poorly-articulated synopsis can bring me to tears. it's not an ending i can watch without crying.

(i can still see the ending in my mind's eye. the scarf around her hair, the basket of tea leaves by her side, the sound of children laughing and the carriage rolling to a stop. they see erkang first. yongqi and xiao yanzi greet him and their laughter is wild from happiness. but then erkang lifts the curtain to the carriage, and the emperor steps down from the coach.)

(the moment yongqi drops to his knees and says 皇阿玛 is usually when i start bawling.)

(the end end is them riding the carriage together, singing, and the words 全剧终  appear on screen, and you can almost fool yourself into believing that the carriage just continues on until they are back in the palace, ten years into the past.)

i like endings where everyone stays in one place.

senior year of high school, i watched a drama where the ending was a group of friends, who had bound together to conquer evil, literally all going their own ways and the main character dying, and i was so traumatized, i cried for three hours, shakily typing up my english essay through a curtain of tears until 6am in the morning.

when i finally went to bed the following night, i rewrote the ending in my head.

maybe because i was so tired, or maybe because the pain was too raw and not something i wanted to face, i managed to convince my sleep-addled brain that the drama actually ended with the female lead gathering the remnants of the male lead's soul, finding an elder in the snow-capped mountains (which is the setting where the drama leaves us), bringing him back to life, and the two of them returning home, where their friends have gathered to welcome him back.

this remains my most successful daydream yet (nightdream?), because i can still see the fabricated scenes play out in my head, the imagined emotions on the actor's faces, the ghost of a soundtrack playing in the background.

there's still a very, very large part of me that likes for everyone to stay in one place. 

but maybe it's getting used to reality, or maybe it's me viscerally feeling how difficult it is to stay in a place for too long, i've slowly started to accept people dispersing.

i used to not understand those scenes in dramas where old friends who have moved away come to visit the main character for just one afternoon, because in my head, i would always think wow, i would've had them stay. my friends would've stayed the week.

but see, time doesn't move in a way that lets us stroll in the past for a very long time. now, i'm grateful for the hours taken out of a night to meet with familiar faces and make plans for a future we know might not happen. i swallow the faint wrenching feeling when we bid goodbye, and continue my own solitary journey home, and through life.

but in the end, we move through the world alone and with nothing.

there's still a very, very large part of me that likes for everyone to stay in one place, but i'm guilty of leaving.

you'd think after four years, i'd be used to not knowing what home is, but i'm still a little scared of going away.

i don't know what i'll do with my room when i do. i don't know what to do with the posters on the walls (magazines cut-outs from high school still posted above the living room desk that has long not been mine), or my mountain of books that spill into every room in the house, or my keyboard sitting heavily above my bureau, or my guitar stashed by my closet, or my upright.

i don't know when i'll play my upright again, and that thought in itself really hurts.

i used to do this thing where i count the number of hours i'll be able to spend time with another person. i used to do it with my grandparents and it's honestly the most painful exercise of all time.

i try not to do it now, and as i write this, i'm actively pushing the process out of my mind, because i know i'll be able to calculate the number of hours left i can live in this house.

in my final story for my creative writing project, someone says this to the main character, "You were banking on us to preserve this idealistic vision of the past--to stay the same--so that when you got tired of being an adult, you could return home to us. But, we were growing too. Maybe we were growing in tandem with each other, but out of sync with you."

this is a line buried in the text among many other sentences that i think are a lot more beautiful. but, this is the line that took me over two weeks to write. for the first time, i tried to put the anxiety and regret i felt for four years into words. 

(that sort of reckoning is akin to pulling out your chordae tendineae through your esophagus and wrestling them into something worth presenting to the world.)

see, i want to experience the world, get to know foreign lands over the period of a couple of years, call the hidden corners of large cities home, visit mountain tops and build a life there, but i don't want the world to change.

part of it is because if it does, i'll never get to know the world. the japan i'll see in the future will never be the japan i saw last year and the japan i missed this year.

part of it is because life is a long, tiresome process of getting used to the new. as i grow up and out of this two-story condo, i am constantly having to digest this larger, more nuanced picture of the world. but, sometimes i get tired and i want to fall back on something familiar.

sometimes, that something familiar changes, and you're left utterly, completely alone.

i'm more used to this process now. i'm no longer so bothered by it that i balk at the idea of my parents moving.

i still feel unsettled when i think about the coming four years and the years after that and the notion that really, this bed i'm sleeping in is not going to be my bed anymore.

and this time, it seems like it will be permanent.

i was watching this variety show with a singer i like very much yesterday night, laughing and crying, and wrote this next bit in chinese.

i'll translate it here.

hua chenyu is a very peculiar existence in my heart.

i don't particularly love his voice, but i view his music as a sort of standard for all pop music. he has changed a lot since 2013, when he first debuted, but he still has this aura of aloofness, maybe because of his single-minded obsession with music.

but, when i saw him lift his head to look at his college bandmates on a large screen, over a webcam, the love and happiness in his slightly reddened eyes were indisputable. in that moment, the look of nostalgia and wistfulness in his gaze suddenly made me think that he's grown up a little, aged a little.

(this following part i wrote in english)

they performed a song they used to play a lot in college over some sort of webcamming interface.

but, see, there is a difference.

i used to think that it didn't matter how far away my friends were from me, because technology has taken distance and shrunken it to a few lines of text or a phone call. but, there's something irreplaceable about the voice of a person you love without the tinny grain of the mic, about the warmth of another someone next to you that you can lean against. 

sometimes, we are lucky and for a few years of our lives, we have someone who can understand the messy scrawl over a few pages of our stories. sometimes, we are lucky, and that someone takes up chapters and arcs.

(isn't that a very nice thought.)

(华晨宇在我心中是一个很神奇的存在。我并不是特别喜欢他的声音，可是我就是会以他的音乐为目标，为典范。他从2013年 刚开始参加快男到现在 变了很多。但他一直有一种拒人于千里之外的感觉， 也许是因为他对音乐的执着。可是当我看见他抬头看着在屏幕上的大学乐队成员。。。他泛红眼里的爱和快乐是不可忽视的。在那一瞬间 他眼中的留恋突然让我觉得他好像长大了一点，老了一点。)

(i'm like weirdly proud because i couldn't have written this two years ago. see, reading in a different language really helps you learn that language. too bad my students never LiStEnEd.)

(i realize i talk about this creative writing story a lot. it's because it is my story. the story of me and my largest 心结. something like that.)

(maybe i'll post it one day.)

(or maybe not.)

song rec: kevin oh - mortifying love

glossary: the first drama mentioned is 还珠格格 (princess returning pearl erkang = son of the palace official, married to the blood related princess yongqi = 5th prince, one of the most tragic existences in chinese history xiao yanzi = the princess returning pearl, the non-blood related princess, married to yongqi 皇阿玛 = in the qing dynasty, princes and princesses who were sons and daughters of the emperor had to call their father by this greeting 全剧终 = the end the second drama mentioned is 古剑奇谭·(legend of the ancient sword) 心结 = literally, heart knot. i don’t know how to translate it, but i liken it to the freudian concept of a fixation...? 

[yandere-musings]

Yandere Kaoru Seta

Anonymous asked: OMG YOU WRITE FOR BANDORI?! Can you write yandere headcanons for either Yukina or Kaoru? They're my best girls! I love your writing! Thanks!!

***

Awe thanks! I'm going with Kaoru on this one because she's my best girl and its her birthday tomorrow. if any of my followers play, hmu and I'll add you! I play on both the ENG and the JP servers.

Yandere Type: Delusional, Obsessive, Clingy

• Who would have thought that the legendary Haneoka Highschool Theater Prince would finally fall in love, and with a regular student no less! You were just a helping the theater club carry props to the stage for an upcoming performance, not expecting to actually meet any of the actors. But to your surpsie, one of them was actually there helping set up. You had come in to deliver a variety of fake flowers for the decorations and a large bouquet of roses for Kaoru who would be playing the love interest. You wandered up past the swarm of fans crowding her and nervously cleared your throat and stepped closer to get her attention.

"Um... excuse me? You're Kaoru Seta right? I was asked to deliver these flowers to you for the next performance. Where did you want them?" you asked nervously.

• Kaoru's red eyes grew wide in awe. It could have been the demure way you got her attention, or maybe it was how the stage lighting made you look almost angelic, or perhaps it was how the roses in your arms framed your figure perfectly like you were a living renaissance painting. It could have been any number of those things, but one was for certain. In that fleeting moment, Kaoru knew that it was love at first sight. She was completely dumbstruck, mouth agape in shock as another actor came over and helped you with the flowers. She watched in awe as you unloaded your arms, her mouth still agape. It was clearly some kind of destiny that you had met- and on the stage no less! Just as quickly as you walked into her life, you left. Kaoru's heart was pounding. Such an amazing, fleeting moment. It truly was fate! Kaoru vowed to make you hers. Even though she didn't so much as know your name, Kaoru vowed to stop at nothing to make you hers.

• Athough Kaoru has many fans and potential suitors, none of them compare to you. She needed to know everything she could about you. Sadly, seeking you out was a lot harder than she anticipated. In a school for the talented or genius, you were actually rather average. You didn't stand out much compared to the other students. Nobody had any idea who you were when Kaoru tried describing you for leads. Not to mention she also had to compete with her fans flooding her everywhere she went. When she finally does catch a glimpse of you, Kaoru is overcome with emotion. Suddenly she breaks into a run to close the distance between the two of you. Quickly grabbing your hands in hers, she stares into your eyes with a huge grin across her face. She was wheezing from her run and from the adorable confused expression you wore.

"There you are! I've been looking for you since the day we met," she proclaimed before standing up straight and giving you her most charming smile.

"As the great bard Shakespeare once said, 'who ever loved that loved not at first sight'? I beg of you, please be mine!"

•Regardless of what your answer was to her passionate confession, Kaoru is still determined to sweep you off your feet. She goes around to all your classmates, using her charm and influence to learn all she could about your hobbies, grades and preferences. Kaoru's fanclub was albeit a little jealous, but overall supportive of her sudden new fascination with you. Even if you insist on telling everyone that you aren't romantically involved, nobody believes you. How could they? Its clear that you're in a relationship when she pulls you into such a intimate embrace and spouts sickeningly sweet words to disprove your claims.

"It's alright my precious darling, you have no need to be shy! I don't mind sharing our love with the world! That way, all will come to know that your heart is taken."

• Kaoru was at your side as often as she could be. Personally escorting you to each class, tagging along when you leave campus with friends and even walking you home after school. And by that, I mean she follows right behind you until you get to the front door. Kaoru will stand there and wish you goodnight as you struggle with your keys in a rushed attempt to escape her intrusive gaze. Unfortunately, this now means that she knows where you live. Kaoru isn't a violent criminal by any means, but she wont hesitate to break into your home to steal things. Nothing you'd notice, but stuff that would mean the world to her. Over time, she will collect enough to build a shrine dedicated to you.

• Kaoru's princely personality doesn't stop on stage, no no. She will bring you flowers, extravagant gifts and shower you with all sorts of flattering compliments. Its naturally overwhelming to suddenly have so much attention on you, especially from someone as dazzling as Kaoru. So if you ever get agitated from her constant praise or snap at her, she will just smile at the fact you're giving her any kind of attention. She won't take offence of course- something else must be bothering you! Maybe something in school or your personal life is weighing heavy on your mind. No matter! Kaoru is happy to help in any way she can, and if she isn't able to do it herself, she will find someone else to do it (under her supervision of course!) Now, as far as Yanderes go, Kaoru is very passive. She's honestly believes that you love her, but are just shy. She won't react as violently as most yanderes, but she will manipulate those around her to isolate you or chase them away. If anything, when she does threaten those around you, its all the more terrifying because its so unexpected and out of character. Kaoru will warn them nicely that if they ever so much as speak to you again, they will never actually speak again.

• Powerful declarations of love before or after every performance, both as an actor and as the guitarist for Hello Happy World. And you better believe that she will write songs for you as well! Kaoru enjoys singing to you, love songs clearly being her favorite. But your voice is so much better. Anytime she hears you speak, she's hypnotized, latching on to every word you say. And if its directed at her, she's in heaven. One day, she dreams of kissing those very lips that she loves to stare at. But she won't rush it. No no, the fleeting moment of your first kiss must be savored. Besides, Kaoru knows that you will have plenty of 'firsts' together once you accept her love.

• Even if you remind her that you aren't actually dating, she will just smile and laugh. You're so silly! Of course you aren't dating! You were soulmates after all, there was no need for courting when you're meant to be together. None the less, she will still proudly declare that you are lovers to anyone who's willing to listen. She makes a very convincing case no matter what you do or say. She's big on PDA, loving to shower you in love so that everyone can see that you clearly are a couple

• Somehow, despite your best efforts, she manages to get your phone number. Kaoru loves leaving you long winded lovey-dovey messages, both via text message and on voicemail. Kaoru will lavish you with affection. Expect lots of random kisses and embraces, in private or not. She loves how flustered you get when she does. Even if you don't have school, Kaoru will always manages to track you down. You could be out shopping or wandering around town and she will 'randomly' bump into you. She can't wait until they day you go out with your family so she can properly meet her future in-laws.

• She knows all of your likes and preferences, altering her own to be more akin with yours. Kaoru is dedicated to proving her love through grand gestures or doing things that will win your favor. It makes it hard to dislike her when she cooks and brings your favorite meals for lunch, writes songs for you, buys you anything you spend time browsing in a store or compliments you on something you were insecure about. That coupled with the constant pressure of others to recirpocate her love makes it harder and harder to reject her. But that's exactly what Kaoru wants, for you to be so captivated by her that it parallels her own love for you. She honestly believes that you want to be with her, but that you're too embarrassed to express it just yet. She understands that she needs to be patient with you but she just loves you so much that restraining herself is difficult.

• She's not above kidnapping you. Kaoru adores you, yes, but if you continue to deny her advances when you're clearly meant for each other, she will begin to wonder why. She will seek out her dear friend Kokoro, venting to her rich friend over how badly Kaoru wants to be with you and have your love. Kokoro will be moved to tears by the passion in her voice, seeing how much her friend truly loves you and wants to make you happy. By the end of the Day, the Tsurumaki Secret Service agents will have you gagged and bound somewhere hidden away. Don't worry, Kaoru will be sure to take good care of you. She will happily decorate the room she keeps you locked in, continuing to gift you with all sorts of presents. And once her career as an actor or guitarists take off, she will ensure that you want for nothing. Even if you scream and fight back now, Kaoru knows you're only struggling to adjust to your life together. She knows it will all be worth it in the end. Any crime commited in the name of love can't be too bad right?

[killingmebtob]

[[☾]] Silenced // Jung Ilhoon

Author: @killingmebtob // Sara

Title: Silenced

Characters: Ilhoon and Reader

Rating: R

Summary: There’s a different kind of beauty when he’s unable to talk.

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom!Reader, Sub!Ilhoon, Teasing, Gagging, Binding, Toys, Unprotected Sex, PWP

Author’s Notes: Just a little PWP. It’s my first time to write something with this kind of dynamics in their relationship. Of course, everything they’ve done is consensual. Well, I hope you like it? HAHA.

---

Talkative, that was the first thing I noticed when I met him. He was the kind of person who never runs out of things to say. He was also the type to say the first thing that pops into his head. Still, he has a way with words that would draw you in. Whether it was the way he spoke, the words he said, or both, there was no helping it. He was a walking and talking magnet to anyone who listened to him.

It was no wonder why many people, including myself, were drawn to him. It was one of his charms along with his smile.

When he spoke, his eyes would shine while his lips would pull up to the sides a bit in some kind of a smile. It made him seem as if he was from another world. His beauty was unparalleled.

But he wasn’t only beautiful when he was talking. There was a different kind of beauty that emerges when he’s being silent, whether from lack of words or a sudden inability to speak.

His eyes would darken while his cheeks would often be tinted with a shade of red. It was obvious by the small frown on his lips that he wasn’t fond of being outwitted or left speechless.

Although, there were certain cases when he didn’t mind being silent.

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of my lips, my hands folded in front of my bare chest, as I watched him unable to speak. A shiver of pleasure ran through my spine at the thought that he was practically powerless without his words. My lips curled even further when his wide eyes met mine.

His pupils were dilated. Cheeks bright red. His chest heaved heavily as he breathed through his nose.

“Jung Ilhoon.” My voice sharply cut through the thick and heavy air as I walked closer to the bed. If possible, his eyes grew wider, his breathing heavier. I could almost hear him huffing and puffing through his nose as he tugged his arms. The sound of chains pulling against the metal railing of the headboard mixed with his heavy breaths.

Such a beauty, I mused, leaning over him as he lay on the bed.

A finger traced the moles that dotted his cheek beautifully. I’ve always found them fascinating. It added even more to his charm.

A sound similar to a whimper came from him. My smirk widened as my finger trailed further down his face. It made him produce those maddening sounds even more. I watched as he tightly shut his eyes the closer my finger moved to his mouth.

“Does it hurt?” I softly asked, tracing along the leather strap that secured the ball gag.

He took in deep breaths before opening his eyes. A warmth pooled in the pit of my abdomen at the sight of his lust filled orbs. I couldn’t help but wet my lips when he shook his head.

“Good,” I uttered while lightly kissing his jaw before pulling away from him.

Something akin to a whine came from him the moment I leaned away just a little bit. It was as if I could hear him begging against my ear to stay close. Having him in this kind of set up gave me a sense of power over him—one that was usually his when we were outside of the bedroom.

Ilhoon would almost always be the one taking the lead whenever we were together. I didn’t mind. Initially, our bedroom encounters were also led by him until the day I discovered his submissive nature when I pinned him down and pressed my palm against his lips. The way he squirmed while a dark blush rose to his cheek pushed me to explore that side of him even more. His pupils had darkened considerably too during that time.

Now, he’d given me full control whenever we were in our own private space. It gave me an overwhelming amount of pleasure to have him reduced to nothing but whining, with or without the use of any kind of gag.

Still, there were rare times when he’d be the one in control.

The sound of his heavy breaths getting shorter filled my ears. His gaze and mine never broke even when I slowly and lightly walked two of my fingers along the tattoo on his chest. Ilhoon squirmed, trying to trash his upper body to indicate that he was too riled up for this teasing. I could only grin and tut.

“Stop moving,” I whispered as I moved down a little so that I could lower my lips to his chest.

Light and fleeting kisses were trailed along the tattoo inked on his skin. I would glance up to his face once in a while. Seeing his eyes shut, cheeks flushed, hands clenched, and chest heaving pushed me even more to tease him. His muffled groans were music to my ears.

I could feel him arching his back as I moved lower down his chest. As a warning, I dug my nails into his skin and he immediately flattened back down on the bed. I could feel the strain on his abdominal muscles under my palms as he tried to keep still.

“Good boy.”

As a reward, my tongue circled his sensitive nipple before latching my mouth onto it. Hushed whimpers kept on coming from his throat every time I lightly nipped on the bud with my teeth. I repeated the same ministrations on the other.

By the time I was done, his chest was rising and falling at a quick pace. It was as if he ran a marathon for hours. His entire body was covered by a sheen of sweat, making it appear as if it was glistening under the dim light.

“Lower?” I teased, hovering over him once more.

His eyes were blown wide. I saw him begging through them to the point that I could almost hear his voice. However, it wasn’t enough for me. When he realized that I wasn’t moving, I saw him struggling with the contraption on his mouth to get what he wanted across to me.

“No? Should we stop? It’d be a shame though.” I chuckled as I moved away from him and stood at the foot of the bed.

I let my eyes slowly trail his body from his wrists that were bound down to his flushed face. A grin settled on my lips at the sight of wetness around his mouth—a sign that he was salivating due to the gag. Then his neck, elongated as he rested his head back on the bed. Still, his eyes were on me.

The rise and fall of his chest had slowed down by a bit. Signs of my markings were littered all over his flesh. His abdomen had loosened, making him look relaxed.

Then my eyes fell on his erected cock—red and engorged.

I could feel the wetness forming in between my thighs.

“We spent so much time preparing you.” I slowly stated my words with a shake of my head.

A step closer caused him to sharply inhale. His body shuddered when he released his breath because I let my finger trace his length from base to tip. It was a feather-like touch; I barely let my finger pad touch the sensitive organ.

More music to my ears came out of him.

I let my finger move down back to the base of his length where a black, silicon ring was wrapped. I traced its shape around his cock before stopping at a point where a half-inch thick silicon strip was attached. The other end of the strip was connected to the base of the plug inside his hole. I hooked a finger around the strap and pulled at it.

His hips shifted as he let out a louder groan. I could see him clench his butt cheeks, causing the strip to resist against my hold. I tutted making him freeze. I tugged on the strip again, a little harsher this time making him feel as if I was pulling the plug out of him.

His breathing shallowed out the more that I fiddled with the strip, pushing him even closer to what I wanted to see.

“We even went all the way to slip on a cock ring and stuff a butt plug into you but you want to stop?” I shook my head, pulling on the strip for the last time. “A shame, really.”

Slowly, I wrapped my hand around his cock. It felt warm and heavy against my palm. My nether lips clenched at nothing. I could only imagine how he felt inside me.

“Are you sure you don’t want this?” I gave him a taste by twisting my hand before pumping him once. A bit of precum leaked from his tip. To push him even further, I licked it off and groaned.

Please. His eyes screamed at me. They were going wild and delirious with want. They were darker than usual. Please do something.

I shook my head. “Maybe I should stop. It seems like you don’t want this.”

Ilhoon strongly shook his head, eyes still begging.

Just a little more, I thought.

“No? Then show me. Tell me you want this.”

With the gag on his mouth, he couldn’t use his words. His pleads and whimpers were too muffled to provide me with anything. Sadistically, I grinned.

“Tell me you want me to lower myself onto your cock and ride you until you release.” My voice was low and laced with lust. I couldn’t deny that I wanted him too. I was also going insane the longer we kept this up but I needed to keep my self-control intact. This wasn’t just for me.

I kept on telling him the things I’d do if he would tell me what he wanted—if he showed me that he wanted it.

I unwrapped my hand around him and climbed the bed. I was on all fours above him, my pussy just above his length. I lowered myself a bit just to let him feel my wetness on his dick.

A shuddered breath escaped my lips at the contact.

“Ilhoon. What do you want?” I moaned out as I slowly moved my hips on his cock, feeling his length sliding along his folds. He felt heavenly but I needed more than just grinding. I wanted more. My knees shook as I did my best to keep it together.

Silenced moans came from his, his eyes tightly shut. I continued to slowly move myself on his length as my hands found themselves on his abdomen. I groaned, feeling his muscles contract under my palms. Even if he could, he kept himself from thrusting up into me.

I thought that I was going to lose it but I saw what I was waiting for. I lifted myself to hover over him again as I caught my breath. A pleased smile spread on my face when I saw the tears that were leaking from his eyes.

“There you go.” I moved closer to his face and kissed both corners of his eyes, tasting his salty tears. I could hear his labored breaths through his nose.

“Beautiful,” I whispered. “My good boy deserves a reward, doesn’t he?”

Lightly, Ilhoon nodded his head. After one last kiss on his forehead, I moved back to my previous position.

I held onto his length, positioning its head against my opening. Slowly, I sunk down on him. I could feel him stretch my walls more than usual, thanks to how engorged he was due to the cock ring.

“Fuck.” I couldn’t help but let it out as I continued to lower myself on him. He was thicker and longer than usual. Another curse left my lips once he was fully inside me. “You’re so big.”

I kept on contracting my walls around him, trying to get used to his penetration. I had to take in a few deep breaths to relax myself and my walls. Once I had caught my breath, I started to move: up and down then I would circle my hips against his.

My moans mixed with his muffled ones. The air around us was getting hotter and the smell of sex was heavy.

My gaze met his dark ones. Neither of us broke eye contact as I moved on him. As I pulled myself up, I let my walls tighten around him. I watched his eyes widen. Once his tip was almost out of my hole, I quickly pushed myself back down on him. That had him throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut. Even I had difficulty in keeping my eyes on him.

“You feel so good.” I breathed out. “So, so good.”

I could only imagine how he was feeling—walls contracting around his length while a plug was pushed into his ass.

I felt his cock twitch as I continued to move. I hurried my pace, knowing that he was close. I could feel him pulsing inside me.

The coil inside me tightened, pushing me to work him faster. My walls hugged his length, his tip hitting spots inside me that was making me see stars. I was so close but I kept it in, wanting him to reach his orgasm first.

“Fuck.” I shuddered when he hit a certain spot inside me. It felt too good that I almost forgot that I wanted him to release before me. However, I kept on thirsting for that sweet, pleasurable feeling that I kept angling my movements to continuously hit that spot.

His name repeatedly slipped from my lips.

“Are you close?”

He nodded his head eagerly.

“Come,” I groaned, nearing my tipping point.

With one last twitch of his cock, I felt him spill himself into me. The feeling of his juices spurting inside my walls pushed me over the edge. I screamed out his name as I rode out my orgasm. The cheeky man helped me ride it out by thrusting in and out, even if it was at a slower pace than what we had done.

Shakily, I pulled myself off of him once our orgasms had subsided. I had to take a moment to catch my breath. I slipped the ring off of his flaccid length and carefully pulled out the plug. I felt a gush of wetness escape my nether lips when I felt his hole still sucking onto the toy. Once it was out, I set it aside before I straddled his chest.

His eyes were on me. They screamed how fucked out he was. It made my stomach flip.

My hands moved to the back of his head and made quick work to remove the lock that kept the gag on his mouth. Once it was off, I threw it at a random direction before moving to gently massage his jaw. I leaned down and peppered kisses all over his jawline and cheeks.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. His voice was raspy and rough.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I liked it.” The way he spoke softly, as if not wanting to admit it, made me smile.

“Wait,” I told him, leaving a peck on his lips before I pushed myself off of him and the bed.

I grabbed the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table and unlocked the binds. I set those aside too while he sat up. He was rubbing at his wrists when I handed him a glass of water.

“Drink up. You need it.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and quickly downed the glass of water.

I took it back from him to place it back on the table.

Ilhoon moved a bit to the side a little slowly before patting the space beside him. Quickly, I moved and wrapped myself around him despite our sweaty bodies.

“We should get those padded cuffs next time.” I sighed, looking at his wrists that were bright red.

He chuckled, a small smirk on his lips. “If that’s what my lady wishes,” he mumbled before changing the topic. “Shower?”

I shuddered when he bit on the lobe of my ear. The air around us shifted as we both felt a change in the power play.

[mini-pretzel]

IM GONNA BE THAT PERSON FOR THE WRITING STYLE ASKS: ALL. OF. THEM. Let’s go! ❤️💞♥️💕💙💝🧡💚💜

omfg Tess i stg klsdjflkja

ilysm sdlkfjlkafj are you taking care of yourself??

alright, let’s get right to it

🥀 - Your hardest/least favourite character to write 

hmmm. i don’t think there’s a hardest or a least favourite character for me, at least with the bts members. though reader sometimes can be hard for me to write. like, for example, the reader in Breathin’ can be quite the bitch sometimes and i’m having a tough time trying to get past this 2nd chapter, i know it will get better after that one, but she’s so polar opposite to me that it’s hard to write some scenes.

💕 - Your easiest/favourite character to write 

oh jeez. definitely Yoongi. Yoongi is so versatile and playful, but can be also full of dark humour and angst that it’s just //grabby hands

tbh i’m still not over This Tall To Ride Yoongi. i’m so glad i made him the way he was.

i also really enjoy Namjoon, too. I loved him as the supporting character in This Tall To Ride and Your New Boss so far has been an enjoyment to write! Oh, and Hoseok in Sweater Weather made me really want a friend like him.

☎ - Favourite object(s) to describe 

i love describing personal spaces of people. because i think it shows a lot of their character through their surroundings. people tell me that i write from an emotional point of view, so i use the outside surroundings to also show the characters’ inner world too. after all, we are drawn to certain things because they remind them of us or help us express who we are within.

🌄 - Favourite setting(s) to describe 

settings, hmmm… i don’t think i have a favourite per say? but i like anywhere scenic where you can close your eyes and imagine you’re there. i don’t think i’ve mastered this aspect of writing that well yet, but it is something i’m striving towards for sure.

✍️ - Name one of your writing quirks 

i have a tendency to start my sentences with the word ‘and’. technically that’s not really correct, but i feel like it adds a certain layer of storytelling as if you’re talking to a friend and it keeps things casual. in some aspects i like to make things more formal and serious, but in some i like to make it simpler and have more of a steady flow of sentences that are akin to thoughts inside a person’s head.

🎤 - What phrase/word do you use way too much? 

oh jeez, haha. definitely use the word ‘feel/felt’ too much. and short exclamations like ‘fuck’ or ‘damn’. i also use a lot of body parts for tactile expressions like hands, head, fingers and heated cheeks.

🔒 - One writing trick you wish you knew years ago 

the flow of information. i actually forget the actual term (or if there is one, i think there is?) but how you present the information to the reader. and in what ways, and what you leave out until the time is right. or maybe even keep some things to yourself even after completing a work of fiction.

you can build tension if you keep some things in the dark and find the right moment to uncover them. it takes a lot of trial and error to get the flow right, but i wish i knew this before because it makes the story sound so much more well-rounded and put together.

and always, less is more. sometimes letting go and simply writing a sentence is better than trying to cram fifty words and make it sound cool or smart. it’s not always about trying to sound smart, it’s about having some to say and provide characters that the reader can connect with. (i’m still struggling with this)

🐢 - Your favourite line 

i have a lot of favourite lines in my works (mostly in dialogues), but the recent favourite is the last line in A While. just the whole two sentences really tug at my heartstrings.

🌊 - Do you use similes, metaphors, or personification more? 

i think metaphors? but also similes, too. now you’re making me want to go back and reread all of my works to see what i use more, hahaha.

��� - Your favourite part of your writing style 

i like how simple it is, i guess? i’ve tried before to make my works sound more cool or smart, use bigger words or try to come up with more complex sentences, but i realize that’s not how i tell stories. while i admire a lot of different writers that all have their own unique styles, i think mine doesn’t need to be anything complex.

my style might not be as descriptive or as eloquent as other writers, but it sounds like a friend telling a story to another friend and, i think, that’s enough. as long as someone reads my work and understands me and feels things - that’s more than enough.

🎯 - Do you use exclamation marks outside of dialogue? 

i don’t think so… huh.. maybe i should at some point, haha. why not?

🕹 - Favourite mannerisms for your characters 

i like getting inside their heads and make them wonder about things. idk. also i like showing how much they can be in their heads, even when in social situations.

i also like to show their little habits and preferences that make up their character. how they kiss (do they hold the person’s head or shoulders? go all in or slowly because they’re nervous?) or if they bite their lip. or how they take their coffee and how they sleep in bed.

☯️ - Favourite theme(s) to write 

i like interactions more than anything. and interactions over food. if you’ve read my works, you notice that a lot of my interactions between characters happen over food or drinks. idk, i think it adds another element of showing how a character is through how they eat and what they eat, how what they drink.

💫 - Is there a pattern in your character/location names? 

i don’t think so? hahah i’d like to say that i have enough brain cells to come up with something so intricate, but no. i’m simple, haha. what you see is what you get.

💋 - How do you build up a relationship? (romantic, platonic, or otherwise) 

i love slow burns. though for me they don’t always end up being as slow as i’d hope, i think it’s one of the things i need to improve in.

i think a lot of my building comes from dialogue and the characters not only speaking to each other but also taking in the non-verbal communication that happens between them.

it’s always the small things - them doing things for each other, them worrying over each other, the ridiculous pining, having someone plaguing their mind and making them smile even when they’re not there. and learning what each other preferences and remembering them.

i like to take things slow, and have that natural development of affection - platonic or not. proper relationships take time and effort.

and if they don’t have that gradual development, i show how it can make things either awkward or make the character feel bothered, or empty. because it’s as if something is missing, a step was missed.

i don’t know, it’s 2 am and im typing this with one eye closed.

i hope this made sense…

thanks Tess!! thank you for the ask and for supporting my works. they still need improvement, but i’m glad they make people happy. that’s all i really want with my works - to make the readers feel the same way i feel when i create them.

also i look forward to reading more of your works

[hub-pub-bub]

I pride myself on creating interesting titles for my articles and blogs. Who could ignore, “Does This Script Make Me Look Fat?“, “S-e-x Tips For Screenwriters,” or “Are You Writing With Beer Goggles On?”

The title is essentially the logline of the column, and I want mine to intrigue you into reading more.

My choice this month is as deliberately colorless as I could muster to make a point. I’ve been reading a lot of dry, dull, and flat dialogue of late.

This is a cautionary tale on how “not good” dialogue can

drag

your

entire

script

down.

Even when you have an exciting and compelling concept and a solid story.

No matter what the genre, bad dialogue flattens the story by undermining the tone. Visceral moments built around dull dialogue, whether they are shocking scares, heart-racing action sequences, thigh-slapping comic moments, or tear-inducing dramas, are akin to a slammed oven door on a rising soufflé. Deflated and disappointing.

Dialogue: Art or Craft?                                                    

Before I began this article, I had to think about whether dialogue is a screenwriting skill that can be taught, practiced, and mastered, or whether it is an art. I’ve been fortunate to work with some truly talented writers who had “an ear for dialogue.”

My ultimate decision is that while you can get better at it, like a craft, for the top writers of dialogue – although they work hard at making it outstanding – it is an art. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t learn something from them and use it to grow.

Writers known for their dialogue actively listen. They pay attention to voices, they eavesdrop, they recall patterns, phrases, distinctions, inflections. But great dialogue is not transcribing. It is learning about howpeople talk in the real world and then distilling it into something better that reflects real life rather than imitates it. We’re telling stories, not making documentaries.

Great writers take the everyday and elevate it. Because, in fact, how we talk in “real life” can be wordy, meandering, and damn boring. In a script we are looking for powerful and succinct expression of thoughts and feelings.

Writers known for great dialogue write in voices that they know. Voices that they can hear in their heads, whether it is “smart,” or “Southern,” or “smarmy.” I have had more than one marvelous writer of dialogue tell me that they get to the point where the characters are speaking to them in their heads. Congratulations, you are probably in the only profession where “hearing voices” doesn’t guarantee you will get carted away to the crazy house.

Writers known for great dialogue understand that dialogue must serve a purpose. It must advance the story, reveal character, support the tone, and compliment the pace of the scene.

Writers known for great dialogue know that less is more. Great dialogue is often characterized as “lean.” They avoid lengthy talky scenes, long, uninterrupted monologues, and they leave space for subtext – that which goes unspoken can have the greatest impact.

Writers known for great dialogue know that it has to woo the reader on the page and sound authentic when spoken. Read your work aloud. Have it read. Tape it and play it back. If it “sounds like dialogue,” start rewriting.

Writers known for great dialogue still agonize over every word. Because they want the characters’ intentions to shine through, their personalities to come across, and the nuances of their inflections to be clear to the reader.

In the industry, writers known for great dialogue often come from theatre. Yes, I’m talking about Aaron Sorkin, Alan Ball, and many others. Because on a page of a play there is almost no description. What is there is minimalist. Playwrights learn to tell their entire stories and reveal their characters through dialogue. They are forced to get darn good at it. Might be a good exercise to practice by writing a scene or a short piece that is almost 100% dialogue.

On the other hand, the more I’ve thought about dialogue, the clearer it is to me that dialogue is inextricably interwoven with description. I found that you simply can not talk about one without referencing the other. As you master how to write a screenplay, it becomes clear that the interaction between dialogue and description is like a carefully choreographed dance. A tango that would not be complete without both partners, moving seamlessly together, supporting and elevating each other. That’s where you make the leap from craft to art.

Killer Dialogue

In striving to write dialogue that enlivens your story rather than killing it dead, these are the top crimes to avoid:

Expositional Dialogue: Dialogue that struggles to convey fundamental information to the audience can be deadly dull. In decades past, we might have seen newspaper headlines on the screen. Now we’re often subjected to lengthy (and incredibly conveniently timed) TV news broadcasts that spells out the facts and background. This may be efficient, but it feels like a cheap writing short cut and is inherently dry.

Voice over narration can be useful, but only if there is no other way to show us rather than tell us. This device is best used sparingly and artfully, as an integrated element of the story that reflects the tone.

There should be a rhyme and reason to narration in a script. It should be consistent with the story. Its usage might be heavier in Act One to establish the narrator and their point of view. Sparingly in the second half of Act Two, as the pace and stakes increase. Then wrap up and underscore the theme, provide resolution and add resonance in Act Three.

A large clump of narration in one juncture of the story stands out. It slows the pace and can feel like a crutch for conveying information. The best exposition comes from many sources. Showing is more powerful that telling. We can glean information from vividly described settings. We can see character’s appearance, behavior, actions, body language, and expression in description.

Lean dialogue supports other expositional tools, and description can add subtext that speaks volumes.

OTN Dialogue: Industry shorthand for “on the nose” is far from complimentary. This is dialogue that is literal in conveying what the characters think and feel. I am scared. I am happy. I am hungry. It is stiff and unnatural. Characters who speak in simple declaratory sentences reflect what the writer wants us to know. More skillful dialogue comes from the character and is supported by description.

Doubling Up Dialogue: Dialogue that repeats what we have just learned in description is redundant. Don’t tell us what we already know. It drags down your script and slows the pace of a scene. Be confident that we’ll get it.

Description: Jack acts nervous, worrying about the plans for the big heist. Jack dialogue: “I am very nervous that you are not going to be able to pull this heist off.”

Versus:

Description: Jack paces restlessly, taking a few steps in one direction, then reversing. Jack dialogue: “Tell me you have your shit together.”

The second version is shorter, more visual and more visceral.

Showboat Dialogue: Few things rankle readers more than recherché or Delphic dialogue. While you and I may have an SAT-worthy vocabulary, imagine the frustration of being unable to comprehend a sentence. Or maybe you don’t have to imagine if you were unaware that recherché means rare or exotic and Delphic is deliberately obscure or ambiguous.

The purpose of dialogue – and I see this blunder in description too – is not to show us that you are smart. It is to communicate clearly. I shouldn’t need a dictionary just to grasp a sentence. And if your reader does, then you are throwing off the reading experience, putting a stumbling block in their path when your aim should be for the words to flow in smooth, comprehensible sentences. Your script should communicate clearly to any and all readers.

Dialogue and description that includes obscure literary or musical references may have meaning to you, but unless it is recognizable to your reader, it’s a fail.

Yes, if your character is a brainiac, they might have a great vocabulary. But baffling your reader, even in a story about rocket scientists, should be rare and serve a purpose. Unless it is reflecting a specific character trait, strive for clarity.

The Worst Dialogue Sin: Thou Shalt Not Write Dialogue That Fails To Reflect The Tone. The quickest path to dialogue that makes a script dead on arrival is a failure to reflect the tone – not merely the genre – tone is far more specific. Family comedy, broad comedy, raunchy comedy, dark comedy, and dramedy are just some of the many tonal variations in the catch-all genre of “comedy.”

While your comedy doesn’t require a joke in every sentence, keep your dialogue in line with the tone of the story and of the scene. We think of action dialogue as terse, while character-driven stories are expected to have more dialogue that reflects and reveals character and arc.

Dialogue should also match the pacing of the story and the scene. As conflict escalates, especially in the second half of your script, dialogue should also be tight and brisk to match the pace.

Another cause of flat dialogue is the “repressed” hero. I’ve found that main characters whose core issue involves suppressing their feelings, leads to dryer, clipped dialogue. Fair enough as a character trait, but this often infects the entire script, keeping everything from falling short of being visceral. And in truth, the repressed character should be simmering beneath the surface, with inner conflicts conveyed in description and supported by subtext.

Think of the voice of the story – its unique tone – coming through in every sentence – from description to dialogue.

Praiseworthy Dialogue

How do industry pros describe great dialogue?

Lean, fluent, distinctive to characters, authentic sounding, and enhancing the tone…

All forms of high praise for dialogue.

Here are some ways to earn those accolades:

In N’ Out Dialogue: Sharply written scenes get in late and get out early. No wasted time on greetings and exits. In N’ Out hones in the on the purpose of the scene. Effective scenes both advance the story and reveal character arc.

Jack, John, Jake and Joey Walk Into A Bar: I know that some people go crazy when I imply that professional readers don’t read every single word of your script – but it’s because we shouldn’t have to. We should be able to stop reading character’s names after Act One because their voices are distinctive. It’s more challenging in an ensemble where the characters are highly homogenous, but that makes it all the more important. And a visual difference in the characters’ names makes it even easier for our brains to process, which makes your script flow.

Totes Dated Dude: Strong dialogue reflects the time period and is age appropriate.

Writing for teens can be tough, but the best dialogue avoids the clichés. By the time we read them, they’re already dated. Think of Clueless, written and directed by Amy Heckerling, who was lauded for her teen dialogue. What made it so impressive and appealing was that it was invented, a reflection of teen talk and a step ahead, rather than copying current trends. What is on fleek today is totes dated tomorrow.

On the flip side, period dialogue that is sprinkled with contemporary phrases shows a lack of research and an inattention to detail.

A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words: I read a wonderful article recently (which I would link to here if I could find it!) that showed a page long scene between an arguing man and woman, and then cut the dialogue in half, and in half again, and finally down to just a couple of lines. The more they cut, the more dynamic the scene became. Less words meant more room for subtext conveyed in description. It upped the emotion of the scene with what we saw the characters do rather than what they said. With each cut, the scene became more intense emotionally.

The real power in dialogue is often is what goes unsaid. Less truly is more. And action does speak louder than words. Subtext – conveyed by a character’s expression, gesture, or glance – intensifies the spoken word and underscores the meaning of the moment.

Button Up: Effective scenes have a clear high point and then cut to the next scene. Time and again, writers give us the line with the most impact, whether it’s a comedic punch line, peak conflict, or a big reveal, yet diminish the resonance off the moment by adding a few more lines after. Know the scene’s button and cut out on that for maximum effect.

The Last Word On Dialogue

Great dialogue has a rhythm and flow that becomes the heartbeat of the story. It mirrors the structure of the script. Initially setting the tone, revealing character, and conveying exposition, it goes on to accelerate as the conflicts escalate. It supports the scene in tone and pace. It becomes a vibrant element of the story, working in harmony with description to elevate the entire script.

More articles by Barri Evins

Dialogue Freedom: Getting Away with Writing Lengthy Dialogue

Script Gods Must Die: Writing Dialogue – The Cut Instinct

Script Expert Q&A: Meet Barri Evins of ‘Breaking & Entering’

Download tips on writing stellar dialogue with Karl Iglesias’ on-demand webinar Master Aaron Sorkin’s Dialogue & Scene Techniques

[wedontgivethatup]

“I was just a child...”

// After brainstorming this OC for weeks, I finally sat down tonight and polished her backstory a bit more! This is so far from being finished because I still have the latter half of this arc to go, not to mention fillers that will include her and her gang “Gold Gun Girls” (a group that will include mine and my friends’ Red Dead Online OCs), a revenge arc, and an arc of her time with the Van Der Linde gang. Even though this is the incomplete draft, I’m really proud of what I’ve got so far so I wanted to share a little snippet of what I’m writing and give my writer’s block a kick in the ass!

// Lena face-claim + character concept (x)

October 26, 1884 - 11:05 PM

“You alright, girl?” Arthur spoke into the silence that surrounded the campfire, breaking the young girl out of her paralyzing thoughts. She was in shock, he knew that much for sure. They had parted ways with Dutch sometime ago after he’d insisted that Arthur wait and bring her to camp tomorrow, not wanting to risk traveling through the dangers of the night with Lena in tow. They’d stopped their travels and set up camp about an hour ago, a fire burning between them and their pallets of worn cloth and old furs. He’d offered her food three times throughout the day, but she refused each time. She had been staring into the flames for nearly an hour, not saying a word and barely responding when he attempted to communicate with her.

She blinked and raised her gaze to his as if she’d been disturbed from a deep sleep, giving him a faint nod before directing her attention back to the dancing flames and clutching her legs more tightly to her chest.

“I know the wound is still fresh and what you saw today wasn’t alright in the slightest, but you don’t gotta shut yourself off from it. I ain’t the best at these talkin’ things, but if you need someone to listen, I can at least do that.” He said, taking his hat off and placing it on the ground next to him. He pulled a can of baked beans and a half-full canteen of water from his satchel and passed them to her, the containers brushing the edges of her white skirts that were now tinted brown at the edges.

She didn’t touch the food or water for a long while, mulling over his words. She no longer had any tears left to cry, so for the past hour she’d sat and wondered what to do with the emptiness left in her heart. Her family was dead and she no longer had a home left to go back to, at least not without re-living the tragedy that took place there. “Loss” is what Dutch called it when they’d found her.

“Mr. Arthur?” Lena said, looking up at him through her drenched eyelashes and overgrown bangs.

“What is it?” he asked. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left her family’s ranch earlier that afternoon, so he was curious to know what had been on her mind since.

“Loss...how do you make it go away?”

Arthur turned his face from her and gazed into the distance. Pain and death were two things that he’d become well acquainted with at an early age, not to mention killing. It all came along with this lifestyle that he lived, willingly following in behind whatever Dutch decided to do on a day-to-day basis. But Arthur could still tell a sinner from a saint. This girl had never seen a speck of blood in her life and was ultimately robbed of everything she’d known in a single day. Family, wealth, and her innocence. She could only get one of those back, but not in anyway the law would approve.

“Ain’t no gettin’ rid of that, sweetpea. You just... gotta make room for it. Get used to it, I guess. You can start by telling me what all happened back there.”

October 24, 1884 - 9:24 AM

Crimson.

It was a color that Lena would come to know far too well. There was a time where she’d even appreciated in fact. It’d eventually go from admiring the red cardinal flowers that grew outside the fences of her family’s ranch during her childhood to slowly expanding pools of blood that spread out around the bodies of her enemies, the fuckers that slaughtered her parents and older brother after he’d hastily shoved her down the trapdoor of their home.

Lena was just a child. Eleven years old, eyes wide and vision blurred with tears of terror, she held her breath and listened dreadfully to the assault taking place in her family’s ranch house outside of Strawberry. She clenched her eyes shut and stayed as silent as her panicked lungs allowed, waiting for her brother to come back and retrieve her just as he said he would when he placed her in her current hiding spot.

She heard talking briefly, only barely being able to make out the threats that were being made, but she could clearly hear the multiple blows of impact alongside her father’s pleas in their native tongue of Polish. Her mother was going through a completely different struggle in another part of the house, her screams and sobs more prominent as one of the men, or multiple men, violently abused her mother in a separate room. Her cries did not stop until someone finally cocked their gun and a single shot rang out through the house. Their footsteps creaked back to the family room.

“You kill the woman?”

“Yeah, she was too fuckin’ noisy for a robbery. These people don’t even speak goddamn English and we couldn’t get nothin’ out of the woman. What’re we doin’ here boss?” One of her mother’s assailants spoke. Judging by the heavy set of boots that creaked across the floor around her family’s common room, there had to be five or six of them and obviously armed.

“Kill’em and take everything they got. They won’t be needin’ it no more.”

Multiple gunshots and silence akin to a graveyard followed the cold command and Lena felt her chest tighten as her innocence left her body. She inhaled a breath of pure horror, the blood of her family slowly spilling through the tiny cracks of the trap door. The sound of their footsteps creaked throughout the house for a while as they pilfered her home, taking anything and everything they had of value, including food and some high-quality cloth that her mother made for her father’s next business trip to town.

When the men retreated from her home, Lena exhaled shakily as fresh tears spilled over her lashes. She did not have to leave the basement to know what would await her if she left. She didn’t have the courage to leave and face the scene. Instead, she clenched her hands to her chest and trembled violently as she let her sobs finally escape her lips when she was sure the heavy clang of boots against floorboards had long faded away from her family’s ranch. Pain shot through her knee caps as she collapsed onto the floor and the utter pain of loss swallowed her up whole.

Lena isolated herself in the cellar for two entire days, paralyzed by the reality she would have to face when she lifted the trap door alongside the fear of being so utterly alone. She was starved, terrified and still grieving her losses when she heard a single pair of footsteps enter her home.

Except this wasn’t her home anymore. Home is where the family is and hers were lying dead just one floor above her. Maybe soon she’d join them.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Your milkshake brings all the OCs to the yard

Damn right, they're better than mine. I could write you, but I'd have to get back to you on time, place, and amount.

About my milkshake: Jaimie/27/F/Working 40 hours a week/Looking for something casual but long term

Your Milkshake:

- My milkshakes are of my own creation. I expect yours to be the same. (Original characters only please. I don't care to write any fandoms at the moment). 

- All the boys to the yard, your milkshake must bring. (I write MxM stories. I am perfectly happy to double or triple or whatever number you want of any number of characters of any variety. My own stipulation is our mains be male and the story is MxM centric).

- Aged milk? Sounds gross. But please be 18+ so there's no issue of age. I am grown and I don't want to go to jail for writing with minors.

- Let's talk about...milkshakes? I am more than happy to OOC chat. I love meeting people and making friends. 

- Don't like my shake? No Problem. Sometimes people don't mesh well. I will absolutely tell you if the story is going nowhere/ let you know if I want to stop/ Can't write anymore. Please do the same. I will not be upset and respect you more for it. I might even hit you up if you feel like the time might be right at another date. 

- I'm bringing my own blender. I am providing story prompts and characters to play against below. If you're interested, please select a character and plot. If you don't like any of these, please explain that to me and provide plot suggestions. I am open to brain storming but I don't want to have to do all the leg work. That's where we lose people...and interest...

* (Character bio's in depth will be provided to those interested in the story/character combo.)

The Flight plan (plots)

1. (Fantasy/Sci-fi/Modern) Starrtop or affectionately dubbed 'Starr' by his small group of companions is a botanist and lover of any kind of plant life. Working in a world filled with something akin to 'scientific magic' people not only live along side the growing technological industry but also have discovered alchemic answers to the 'magic tricks' in the world. As a result animal-like monstrosities have been released in this land along with anomalies in the plant life. A glorious haven for ST, he works in an old castle like building, toiling behind 'chemicals' to enhance plants to better serve humanity. There is a 'slip up' here and there, but nothing that can't be swept under the proverbial rug...or burned. The quirky semi-scientist who slums it in a laboratory has never lived a life of adventure in the fantastic world around him. They say he can work magic on foliage but perhaps someone in his genus could strike up some chemistry instead.

2. (Fantasy) Serbian is foremost a sorcerer but a small fact remains that he is also a demon. Demons fall in many categories in this world, some being benign, others being a threat. In this world there are humans and those who are not. Serbian falls into the aforementioned slot, which he is all too painfully aware of. Spending his time with a page held against her will, and a two tailed beast, the demon often finds himself peddling his wares to fellow demons and humans alike, forever on the move, a nomad in a mysterious continent. Yet, the humans strive to rid the world of demon-kind engineering 'aeygles' a hybrid of human and demon kind to ward of the surmounting threat to humanity. Stifled with a secret hidden within himself, Serbian struggles to live in a chaotic world wrought with danger, aeygles, daemons, mystery, and magic. Will he succumb to the rise of humanity, or help snuff it out before the Aeygles prove to be more dangerous to both demons and humans alike?

3. (Fantasy/Slice of Life/Modern) Thad is a damn good chef. He has hit a low point however and now works in a sleazy part of town, in a run down restaurant, smack between a strip joint and a dollar theatre. This doesn't get him down however, being a slacker is kind of his thing. When he's not working, he spends his time in bars, drinking, or playing the bass in a punk band for kicks. The point remains however, Thad is a damn good chef. He has been for over 500 years. Though that's pretty young in the lifetime of an imp. The world has always had a side not so often seen, and his world is nearly invisible, thanks to the OG monsters who kept things in the shadows. Life for monsters has been changing however, vampires being more lax, werewolves running amok from time to time. Still, despite this low point, it's but a small bump in the trajectory of his so-called life. He'll either continue on as he has been for 500 years or be thrown for a loop by whatever comes his way. But that's the beauty of life. You never know who or what might be coming down the road. 

4. (Fantasy/Sci-fi) On the alien planet of Avis, in the Sol System- a neighbor to old Earth's Solar System there live a species undisturbed for eons. Despite the lack of communication between others, the Harpee have thrived with their minimalist technologies, living on their harsh, jungle infested planet. Muteo, a young Harpee prince is leery of taking on his mother's position as ruler of his people. However, with four waring factions between the Harpee, there is a little competition. With the threat of contact from other worlds looming and the choice to follow in his mother's footsteps- what is the prince to do? Will he choose to explore these 'settlers' from another world, or to unify his people and fight them.

I only role-play through email: franticdant@gmail.com (there it is!)