lookism-lover
multifandom hoes do interact pls
INBOX OPEN. TAKING REQUESTS. Name's Nabé, she/her, 24.
side-blog for all the fandoms I'm in.
main blog: @naberriel.
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Hunger Games [Interactive Fic]
The Hunger Games are an annual televised event where the ruthless Capitol randomly selects one boy and one girl from each of the twelve districts, pitting them against each other in a game of survival where they are forced to fight one another to the death.
Twenty-three die. Only one survives.
This year, willingly or unwillingly, you become a tribute of District 9.
Thrust into the mad world of the Games, you're left with no choice.
You win or you die.
Welcome to the 73rd Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.
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The Mark of Wolves - Red Rising fic
Synopsis
All my people sing of are memories. And so I will remember this death. It will burden me as it does not burden my fellow students—I must not let that change. I must not become like them. I’ll remember that every sin, every death, every sacrifice, is for freedom.
But Darrow forgets. He forgets everything. Red, Gold, the mines, the Sons of Ares, his mission, his family, his purpose, his dreams, his past. Eo.
So what does Darrow become?
Drabble I: Darrow
He tells me his name is Cassius. Cassius au Bellona.
“Cassius,” I repeat, hoping that at least the taste of his name would bring me some familiarity. It doesn’t.
“Do you remember me?”
I study him—his golden curls, his shining eyes, the cleft in his chin. He’s a boy on the cusp of adulthood, a young man of infinite beauty. He’s not someone you can easily forget. And yet, the sight of him sparks nothing. “Should I?”
He flinches. I didn’t mean to hurt him. You shouldn’t hurt young, beautiful things. He waves away my hesitant apology and calls me Darrow. Darrow au Andromedus. It leaves me indifferent.
I sit cross-legged with my back against the wall. Cassius mirrors my position across from me, and next to him is a slight long-haired boy who’s kept silent until now. He leans forward. “I’m Roque au Fabii,” he says and when that, too, gets nothing from my side, he asks, “What about your family? Your parents? Your home?”
I frown in concentration.
Cassius perks up. “You’re from Yorkton. Your mother’s name was Lexus, I believe.”
I shrug.
"And your father... Your father's name, I mean..." Trailing off, he turns to Roque for help, but all Roque does is shake his head. It’s clear none here knows me all that well.
Roque sighs, “It seems you’ve lost your memories.”
I feel lost.
I woke up surrounded by forgotten faces and with no idea who I am or who I’m supposed to be. Questions tumble through my brain, the next one louder than the one before.
They try to explain the situation succinctly.
It’s our third day at the Institute on Mars,
So, I’m trapped in the savage wilderness, where society has been reduced to young Golds giving in to their primal instincts, and I don't even know what Gold is supposed to mean.
“I do wonder sometimes,” Roque begins after Cassius has recovered, “as to the purpose of all this. How can this be the most efficient method of testing our merit, of making us into beings who can rule the Society?”
“And do you ever come to a conclusion?” Cassius asks.
“They have us here because this valley was humanity before Gold ruled. Fractured. Disunited even in our very own tribe. They want us to go through the process that our forefathers went through. Step by step, this game will evolve to teach us new lessons. Hierarchies within the game will develop. We’ll have Reds, Golds, Coppers.”
“Pinks?” Cassius asks hopefully.
“I … don’t know about Pinks,” Roque says. The idea of a Gold being a Pink offends him. I don’t know enough to form an opinion. “But … the rest is simple. This is a microcosm of the Solar System.”
Roque notices my blank look. “Darrow… do you know what the Society is? The colors?”
I shake my head. “What’s a Pink?”
Roque snorts.
Cassius buries his face in his hands.
…
Roque is finishing his summary of the Red class when he’s interrupted by two pairs of voices and pounding feet. The girls have returned.
“Has he woken up?” is the first question the shorter girl asks as she steps through the doorway.
The lean, long-limbed girl that follows closely behind her, whistles. “Wow, that looks gorydamn nasty!”
She means the wound on the side of my head—a horizontal, freshly stitched and swollen scar. Nine stitches. Cassius is in the middle of cleaning it with salt water.
I stare at them, suddenly conscious of the fact that I’m wearing nothing but my underwear under the light blanket. Cassius said they’d washed them and hung them to dry in the sun outside.
"What?" asks the lean girl.
"What?" I say.
"What?" she repeats.
Cassius lifts his eyes to heaven. "Great ancestors, spare me."
"He doesn't remember you, Quinn. Or anyone, for that matter." Roque clears his throat. “We believe he suffers from amnesia.”
“Believe?” Cassius gives a harsh laugh. “He doesn’t recall his mother from Jove. It’s a fact, my goodman.”
Quinn gapes. "Nothing?"
"Not a gorydamn truth," Cassius says. I admire how his hands stay steady and gentle despite his heated tone. "We just had to explain to him what the Society is."
Quinn gapes some more.
The short-haired girl brings me a cup of water. “Little sips,” she advises, smiling kindly. She introduces herself as Lea.
“We were deciding who was right to lead us. The discussion quickly devolved into . Titus waited until we had our backs turned.” He nearly growls. “The coward.”
“What happened exactly,” I ask him, “Cassius?” But he remains tight-lipped, the anger obvious in the way he works his jaw. He finishes putting the bandages in place, squeezes the back of my neck and leaves the room.
We stare after him.
“Did I do something?”
Lea shakes her head. “You should eat your berries, Darrow. You need the energy.”
After some hesitation, I fall upon them. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
Quinn takes over. “We were leaving. Titus grabbed the standard and attacked. Caught you—” she points at my temple, the wet spot underneath the bandages, “Right there.”
“I saw it all happen. Titus was aiming for Cassius,” sweet-featured Lea adds, “You saved him, Darrow. You pushed him out of the way, left yourself open. That’s how Titus got you.” She shivers. “Your blood splattered all over us. It was everywhere. We thought you’d died.”
“It was chaos,” Quinn agrees, her gaze faraway. “We fought like hell. Cassius threw himself at Titus with a roar. I grabbed a chair and started swinging at anyone who came close. Got Vixu-something in the chest. He was down for the count after that. Lea did the maddest thing. She hit and bit Titus’s hand until he dropped the banner.” She laughs when Lea blushes. “By then, you’d recovered enough for us to retreat. Roque knew a shortcut through the empty stables. Cassius’d left Titus’s face a gory mess and we covered our retreat.”
“I can’t believe I forgot the standard,” Lea groans, hiding her face in her hands.
“At least you remembered to grab us some grub instead. I carried that chair out of the gorydamn castle!”
They devolve into giggles.
Roque finishes quietly. “You passed out after a mile. Cassius carried you the rest of the way here. You were unconscious for twenty-seven hours. The rest is history.”
It’s strange how that sentence is true, especially for me. My history boils down to the past hours spent in their company. Anything before that is an empty void.
Cassius walks back in and throws a pile of damp black and gold fatigues on my lap. He seems in an even worse mood than before, although none of his ire is directed at us. “Darrow, get ready, my goodman. Proctor Mars wants a word with you.”
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Goncharov score masterpost
I want to make a post to keep track of all the Goncharov score that’s been uploaded to tumblr, so I will link to all the one’s I’ve found so far and update with any new ones that come up (if you know any I’m missing please share the link!)
Main Theme uploaded by @caramiaaddio
Main Theme (End Titles) uploaded by @if-only-angels-could-prevail
The Bridge Breaks uploaded by @nicewizard
The Clocktower uploaded by @dungeonmastersconsortium
Farewell Scene uploaded by @levuna (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
Tempus Fugit - “Clock Theme” uploaded by @trupowieszcz (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
Goncharov Theme in Minor uploaded by @mapplejuice (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
Katya’s Leitmotif (Vinyl Rip) uploaded by @unscharf-an-den-raendern (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
Andrey’s Theme uploaded by @the-frosty-mac (pointed out to me by @muzic4sewerratz , thank you!)
It Is True (Extract) uploaded by @hex-of-els (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
Memories Of Water - Goncharov Soundtrack uploaded by @rismrus (pointed out to me by themself– please do feel free to toot your own horn!)
Katya’s Sonata uploaded by @arcanistvysoren
Bonus:
Cover of the song Goncharov by @idiopathicsmile (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
At Goncharov’s Gate (PC Version), song written for the PC game with a Super NES port released in 1994 for PC-DOS, uploaded by @badgraph1csghost (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)
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Okay…
This is how my batfamily looks like… Just Jason got his white streak, and I am still not sure about Bruce… Like… I just don’t know, would he, really, look like this?
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DO NOT LET SOCIAL MEDIA TURN YOU INTO AN AMERICAN
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i really need more television to exist in the same refrain as derry girls where it's not trying to tell some profound and heavily plotted out overarching story... rather its happy to just live in the brief moments of these character's lives and the comedy and tragedy that is part of their every day existence. i love 'we're not going anywhere in particular but you're damn sure going to enjoy the journey' type storytelling.
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i love it when artists put their own spin on canon appearances/aspects of character whether its making them fat or adding features like freckles, spots or scars or if its adding ethnic features to their design. i think it is so so beautiful and i love seeing fragments of peoples hearts within their favourite characters. i think people who disagree should disintergrate btw
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why are half of comics fans keeping up with 15 things and reading comics every wednesday and the other half are like I don’t read comics. except for when I do
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wait actually. tag game what do you consider ur ethnicity. i always see huge differences between what ppl tag om these so for example i consider white hungarian my ethnicity
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those six little words every girl wants to hear
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Y’all have GOT to start putting your fucking x reader porn headcanons under a readmore or something instead of shitting it out into main tags
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this is what i mean when i say i'm on my period
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if i lay here
if i just lay here
do u think this fanfic will write itself
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Daniel Park (Workers)
#lookism#daniel park#hopefully the villain!daniel agenda will be successful#or at least mastermind!daniel
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I disagree so deeply with the notion that the impulse to create transformative content only bursts into being when the original work is mediocre/generally pretty bad but has a lot of “wasted potential”, and I wish people whose fandom presence works like that didn’t go around advertising their perspective as the norm. I have never been enticed to write fic about a piece of media I didn’t enjoy in a significant manner. to me making fandom content is about appreciating what a story contains, so much that I want to play with the elements it presents for longer than any movie/book/tv show/videogame could ever allow, so I take them and start making my own shit with it.
I’m not saying this is the “right” way to do it, everyone knows their own reasons for being in fandom and nobody owes anyone an explanation of their motives to create. I just deeply resent the normalization of a culture of rejection/contempt for the original work in which a fandom is based of. from my experience this does nothing except creating bitter fandom environments where people seem more focused in talking about all the ways in which canon let them down than in doing anything else.
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