#Like an hour ago or something I was thinking about them in the trenches… they are struggling

[critterishere]

shout out to that au in my head where these two experience manmade horrors beyond their comprehension together 🗣

original image down here🏃

[avocado-writing]

Poly aziracrow based on 2x04, where Crowley and R react to Aziraphale during this scene👀

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2KFemoQ/

notes: yes. this isn’t the first time I’ve had a request about his voice in this scene. and I will NEVER get tired of them ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: M (smut at the end)

tags: the light, the dark, and the space in between-verse; references to ptsd; slightly Dom!Aziraphale

You hate this bloody war. 

You’ve been part of a few, and all of them have left their scars on you. In you, buried in your soul. You remember your time in those trenches barely thirty years ago and bile claws at your throat. 

No. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on this. Concentrate on this horrid little demon who’s threatening the two people you love. Hands behind you, you finger a decorative paperweight, wondering if minions from hell are susceptible to being thwacked over the back of the head. 

He finishes his little tirade and tries to read Aziraphale’s name from a book (you’re amazed that the cretin is literate). But his demonic lips can’t make heads nor tails of the syllables. 

“Azil-pha-pha-la-luh—”

Aziraphale’s brow furrows just slightly, lips purse.

“Aziraphale.”

It’s not often you see your angel reach the end of his tether. He is a holy being after all; the pinnacle of patience, epitome of virtue. But sometimes, when something grinds his gears just right, that voice will come out. 

It does something to you and Crowley both, and the two of you exchange a glance across the room. This will be explored later. 

The demon, irritated, snaps his little book shut, then does a double take as his gaze passes over you. He didn’t even notice you were here. You try to look the picture of innocence as you ready the paperweight, thinking about the best way to swing a bludgeoning weapon when he has that ridiculous hair. 

“And you? What’s going on with you, why are you here?” He steps forward and takes a deep sniff. “You don’t smell divine.”

“Oh god, don’t bloody smell me!” you hiss, planting your hand on his chest and shoving him backwards. Aziraphale and Crowley move towards you to intervene if needed, but you wave them off. 

“Don’t bother with him, nightingale,” Crowley sighs, voice unbothered and bored, “he’s not worth your effort.”

You turn to the mirror in the dressing room instead and focus on smoothing out your clothes, ignoring the foul little gremlin until Crowley and Aziraphale sort him out. Which they do, inevitably, because they’re very clever and wonderful. The three of you head back to the bookshop for a very necessary glass of wine, and within the hour you’re all piled on the sofa, slightly blotted and very glad for each other’s company after a rough day. 

You and Crowley are either side of Aziraphale, each with a leg hooked over one of his plush thighs. You’re doing that thing they love where you compliment them about how smart they both are, and they get all smug and silly (and you love it); but halfway through you catch Crowley’s eye behind those dark little glasses and something shifts subtly. 

“You know, angel, you really gave that lapdog a dressing down earlier.”

“Oh, well, I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Aziraphale says, but he’s all puffed up like he gets when he’s flattered. Crowley runs a finger up the seam of his trouser leg, gently, slowly. 

“And you know what really sealed the deal? That voice you used on him,” you continue. “There was something quite dominant about it. Sexy.”

You snake your hand up his chest. Finally he cottons on. 

“Oh.”

“I think we both just wondered what it might take to get you to use it again.”

Aziraphale takes a final sip of his wine before carefully placing the glass on the table. He sits back, looking between the two of you, and there’s no missing the glint in his eye. 

“If you wanted me to tell you what to do,” he says lowly,

and you shiver, “you need only ask. I’m sure I’ll do it if you both behave.”

Crowley shifts. You can see the effect Aziraphale’s had on him: the tightening of his trousers, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. 

“So. Will you behave?”

“Yes,” you and Crowley both whisper at once, voices thin and needy. 

Aziraphale smiles. 

“Then I think you’re both wearing far too many clothes.”

Your clothes end up a muddled pile on the floor, and between the two of you, Aziraphale doesn’t leave the couch for the rest of the evening. He has you ride his thigh while Crowley swallows him down his pretty little throat, whispering his praises to both of you in that delicious voice. 

“Look at you both. Being so good for me. I love you both so much, my darlings.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, face burning with desire. He has Crowley fuck you over the arm of the couch as he watches the show, palming himself through his trousers, telling you where to touch each other. You’re happy to be his puppet, his plaything, anything. 

So long as he keeps talking.  -

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster

[lexdelioncourt]

So I'm sure I'm not the first person to think these things and I'm sorry if it's been talked about a million times already and I've just missed it. But I have a lot of thoughts, many of which are probably unhinged and I need to let them out. This is probably pretty half-baked but whatever I'm way too deep in the Devil's Minion trenches.

SO ANYWAY..

So after Louis burns in SF and Armand has finally put him in his coffin, Armand gives that last little speech before he says he's gonna leave him to himself. Then he tells Louis to “rest” and closes the coffin. Louis then comes out pretty soon after to stop Armand killing Daniel. But are we supposed to believe that Louis, who appears to barely have the strength to walk across the room and sit down properly, had the strength to both break out of Armand’s “rest” (which no one ever seems to do until he lets them) AND push the lid off his coffin and climb out of it?

THEN we don't actually hear Louis tell Daniel the whole speech he ends up putting in his book, right? We see them talking but we don't hear what they say. When Daniel says he's “a bright young reporter with a point of view” he says that to Armand, really quietly, when he's all up in his face. He doesn't say it in front of Louis. Also, when Daniel reads the passage from his book that mentions that line, language-wise, it doesn't really sound like something 70s Louis would say. It also doesn't sound like something you'd say to a random guy you met in a bar 10 hours ago. In fact, the language and tone sounds more like something Armand would say and it even has some echoes of Armand's “easeful death” monologue that we just heard. The passage also has the whole “these are the words you'll hear in your mind” part and who's words is Daniel always hearing in his mind in the DM chapter, even before he's a vampire? Armand's.

To ME that passage from Daniel’s book reads more like something someone would say in a very loving way to someone they know really well, but who they reluctantly want to let go so they can be free. It's got a sense of melancholy to it. What if Daniel DID conflate two events but they just weren't the two events he thought he conflated? What if that passage is something Armand said to him right before they broke up in the past? It sounds almost like a breakup speech and him telling him to go get his shit together. If you listen to both the “easeful death” monologue and the passage from Daniel's book back to back, they almost sound like they could bookend a long relationship. Especially with the repeating of the “bright young reporter with a point of view”. ESPECIALLY when you go back and see the look on Armand's face when old Daniel says that line in the first episode of season 2.

Anyway, that's my incoherent ramblings of the day. Rolin please give us Season 3 already so I can go back to being at least semi-normal.

[fkmarrycill]

One Shot: At Ease

(Not my GIF)

Tommy Shelby x OC

1190 words, 🔞 for implied shagging and naked canoodling 😉

I've finally gotten my act together and finished something! ☺️🙌🏽 It's a one shot, which is the kind of story I write the most. In it, a single version of slightly older Tommy meets with a lover from his past at the local hotel–their regular rendezvous spot. It's tender and a little angsty.

Thanks for reading! ❤️

The phone rang while Ada was talking, and the scowl on Tommy's face softened. There were only a few people who had access to Tommy's direct line, and only one who wasn't family. He assumed it was her, since they hadn't talked in a while.

“Apologies, sister… An urgent call awaits my attention.”

“It's her, isn't it?” Ada smiled the canary-eating grin she always smiled when Tommy was thrust into a situation that tugged at his heartstrings. She welcomed any crack in the stoic demeanor he'd brought back from France after the war.

Tommy sighed, removed his glasses, folded them closed, and placed them on his desk. “I don't know who you think it is, but–”

“–It’s alright, brother,” Ada interrupted with a smirk. “I'll leave you to your secrets and consider myself in charge for the next few days.” She rose to leave the room and smiled a knowing smile, pausing long enough at the heavy wooden door to hear Tommy's quiet but terse “thank you” before closing it behind her as she exited.

He picked up the phone. The conversation was brief. They'd meet at the hotel in an hour. He poured himself a whiskey and lit a cigarette, a short break to shift his mindset before heading out.

***

Tommy lay on his back, on top of the fine white cotton sheets of the king-sized bed, his naked body flush from his emotions as much as from their hungry lovemaking. “Bloody hell, Veronique…” She still made him feel as woozy as opium when they got together.

“It's good to see you again, too.” She winked and kissed him tenderly before hopping out of bed. Rather than the kimono he found her in when he arrived, Veronique donned Tommy's white button-down shirt and sauntered over to the desk. He admired how his shirt accentuated the sun-kissed light brown of her skin. She rifled through her satchel, found a folder, and gave it to him.

He sat up. “And this time, you were in…? Ah, New York,” he said, after seeing the first document, a photograph of the Statue of Liberty. He put on his glasses to examine the scene that was captured in black and white. “Is that Yankee bird as green as they say she is?”

“She's French, like me, but yes. And much, much taller than you,” Veronique teased as she always did, being slightly taller than Tommy.

“But height had fuck-all importance when I was on top of you a few minutes ago, eh? Take my shirt off,” Tommy commanded when Veronique rejoined him in bed.

She complied.

“Mmm… Mine…” He groaned softly and rewarded her with a wet kiss to her neck and his fingers lightly tracing the nipples of her large breasts. Then his hands migrated to her full hips and held her gaze, not with the glare he fixed on most people he encountered, but one of unshakable fondness for his old lover. He brushed her shoulder-length hair aside, cradled her face, and drew a light mewl from her with a kiss much less urgent than the one he delivered when she opened the door.

Veronique was his favorite prostitute in France, one he visited as much as he could on leave and fantasized about when the tunneling and trench life got too bleak. They bonded over being different–Tommy being Romani, and Veronique being biracial–and often scorned by others. Since war time, she'd parlayed her connections into a photography career. It was an unusual choice for a woman, but photography was a cherished hobby she'd picked up from her older brother. Besides, she was used to being unconventional and loved the need for constant travel that came with the job.

She visited Birmingham whenever she could and always brought Tommy photos from her travels. Tommy, for his part, paid for the well-appointed room monthly, giving them an easy way to meet whenever she was in town, plus a second bedroom with heavy curtains and red lighting that served as Veronique's dark room, always stocked with her supplies. She knew he used the main bedroom with other women while she was away, but that was the last of her worries. She'd retired from her old profession, but she still attracted men with ease and chose the best the world had to offer to share her bed, wherever she made it. They cherished the strong connection they'd developed over times of war and peace but could never confine it to conventional rules after everything they’d experienced.

Tommy continued to shuffle through the rest of the photos, settling on one at a nightclub. The patrons were integrated, and the band was Black. He lingered on the photo.

“That one's in Harlem. I had a fantastic time there, always do. I'd love to show you around there one day...”

“Hmm…” was all Tommy uttered as he continued to study the picture.

She massaged his bare shoulders, finding an array of knots to tackle. “You don't get out as much as you used to, do you? The war, your family business, and now the MP role? It has all changed you so much.”

Tommy returned the photos to the folder and placed it and his glasses on the nightstand. He leaned back into Veronique’s capable hands. “You're not wrong… it changed all of us. You, so much for the better. Me, I question it every fucking day...” He closed his eyes and let her hands smooth his pain away.

“You made this possible for me,” she declared, softly kissing his neck as she continued to massage him. “And you damn near single-handedly created a much better life for you and your family. You've gotten everything you wanted, no? Why are you still fighting?”

Tommy had wisely suggested to his superiors that Veronique be recruited as a spy. She was multilingual, and it gave her wealth, power, and favor with her government, having the ability to collect valuable bits of information from the high-ranking German officers who opted for the “French experience" rather than frequent the tents behind their front that were filled with imported German women.

“Let me take care of you, Thomas,” she continued. Her hands migrated from his strong shoulders to his head for a gentle massage.

Tommy’s eyes were still closed, but his mouth hung slightly open, allowing his contented sighs and murmurs to escape and quietly fill the air between them. The feel of her fingers waltzing through his hair and across his scalp was mildly electric and soothing. “I've not been to New York yet, but it does seem like my sort of town.”

“I know you'll love it. And I will get you there one day.”

“One day… Yes...” Tommy shifted to lay on his back, and she snuggled close to him, resting her head on his chest. As she usually did during their trysts, she lazily traced his tattoos with her fingers and told him story after story of her adventures in the city. He asked her questions and listened intently until his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off. During their stolen moments was the best he slept these days.

[mischiefmaker615]

Ghost (Loki Love Story) Ch.3

‘’blood is a bond, what breaks the bond is completing the contract. When you placed your blood onto my attire- accident or not, you must have been thinking about something.. something that you wished assistance with or something completed.. I help you, and we might be able to separate.’’

Loki’s words ran through my head as I paced back and forth in my apartment, Loki relaxing on the couch not to far away after finishing a sandwich I had made not to long ago and I prayed he was thinking just as hard as I was.

Luckily the thing called Doordash would buy us some time for groceries and with my wing and shoulder being hurt, work has dismissed me so there was no real reason to leave the apartment. Aka keeps Loki out of site and gives us both more thinking time.

‘’you are about to dig an impressive trench If you pace a few more times darling’’ Loki said with sarcasm, his hands cradling his head from behind as he relaxed in a comfy position. Didn’t even bother looking in my direction.

‘’I hope your coming up with some ideas with your rare moment of silence over there’’ I snap, giving him a look that he didn’t even see anyways as I pause to go over to take a bite of my own sandwich. The events of the day didn’t exactly build my appetite, let alone his criticisms from his own food. Ungrateful asshole..

‘’I have come up with a few possibilities, yes’’ he said a little to calmly that made me practically grip the back of the couch as I went over, looking down at him with a forced calm reaction.

‘’I hope you just came up with them now since it’s been more than an hour’’ I said with a sarcastic sweet voice as he smirked up at me from his unmoving position.

‘’would you like them or not?’’

‘’yes.’’ I say through my teeth and backed off immediately so we practically didn’t bonk heads as he sat himself up.

‘’you need something complete, as it seems through the blood magic.’’ He starts, keeping his shoes on the couch as an arm rested on the back of the couch so he could look at me.

‘’if it’s even involving blood magic-‘’

‘’lets say it is; do you remember thinking about something in particular when you’re blood fell upon my attire?’’ he asked, genuinely curious that caught my own attitude off guard.

I stare at him for a moment, doing my best to remember amongst the battle, the pain of getting shot, the glass shards in the wing, the- my expression went blank at the last image and it seems to get his attention as he raised a brow.

‘’what is it?’’

‘’..nothing.. I wouldn’t know how it would tie in anyway-‘’ I shake my head as if it’s a silly thought and move away to return to my food. This didn’t seem to be brushed off easily and Loki was already on his feet and around the couch.

‘’you don’t know that, perhaps I could find a way on how it does-‘’

‘’I would have already done so already’’ I shake my head and take another bite as he narrows his eyes at my back.

‘’are you referring to yourself as more intelligent?’’

‘’I’m not the one who tried to take over an attire planet the way you did.’’ I say with a small shrug.

‘’that is not the point-‘’ Loki hissed, wanting to drop the subject as he crossed his arms. ‘’what is it?’’

I hesitate, of course my stubborn ass not wanting to tell him anything as my cheeks reddened a little. To be honest, I’m not sure why and I’m glad my back was to him as I set down my plate. ‘’..the last thing I saw was your outfit, of course my blood catching my eye afterward.’’

Loki nodded slowly as his eyes wandered, almost analyzing me without even my knowledge before I slowly turned to face him. ‘’alright.. its only natural to be thinking about the particular subject your eyes lay upon to spark brain function’’ his comment almost sounded like he was calling me stupid as he began walking around to look more at my household, as if doing it for the first time.

‘’then perhaps it’s a matter of helping me’’

I scoffed as I watched him, my arms crossed as I leaned on the wall. ‘’I am not helping you take over a planet’’

Loki waved me off as his mind wandered in thought. ‘’not that love, but perhaps sending me back. Destiny says I died.. as much as I am not so much thrilled to be killed, its perhaps what needs to be fixed on my end..’’

‘’as much as I wouldn’t mind killing you, what do you mean by your end?’’ sarcasm and curiosity in my voice as I watch him.

‘’blood bonds are for both parties. I need to be sent back, but what about you?’’ he thinks out loud, rhetorical than a question as he looked around more. ‘’..how long have you been living here? by yourself..’’

‘’um.. maybe a couple years maybe? I was at the tower for awhile when we were helping to defeat Thanos and then joined my people here..’’ I answer, unsure what he was getting at.

‘’you’ve never had a partner?’’

My cheeks heated up as I looked at him like he were crazy. ‘’a bit personal don’t you think?’’

‘’answer me.’’ He says almost to calmly as his eyes move up to mind, seriousness in his face that almost gave me no choice but to answer.

‘’y-yes..’’

‘’then darling, it’s only logically making sense. I need to be sent back, and upon your last memory that brought me back here with your blood.. and how you don’t necessarily need any fixing in other matters, the only logical explanation is..’’ he paused, almost not being able to say it himself as I gaze at him like a child with anticipation.

‘’you love me.’’

There was a moment of silence between us as we stare at each other, my expression asking if he were crazy and his showing how he was dead serious.

My lips parted to try to find the appropriate answer as my arms loosely came down to my sides. ‘’are you-‘’

‘’think about it Y/N, why else am I here? you don’t need fixing in your life, true but perhaps its because you lack companionship. A partner. You saw me- well, my attire before you blacked out and your blood brought me through your last thought being of me.’’ He explained, fully facing me now as he slowly took a step closer as he spoke.

‘’that’s pretty conceited of you-‘’

‘’I am the god of lies darling, look upon me now.’’ He says, his voice deadly serious as he took his place before me, my back up against the wall as our heights showed themselves off and their differences. ‘’do you love me?’’

My cheeks heated up, knowing he could tell lies but.. I didn’t love him- but.. what the fuck- I push his shoulders and walk past him to around the couch, my hand running through my hair as I push the thought away. ‘’you’re crazy.. we barely know each other even on Asgard.’’

‘’perhaps, but you very much caught my attention.’’ I could almost see the smirk on his lips as he turned to look at me- my back once again. ‘’so I’m sure you saw me as much as I saw you.’’

‘’of course I saw you, you are a royal and I worked in the palace.’’ I shake my head, keeping my back to him as his voice drew nearer.

‘’you know what I mean Y/N. but I know denial when I see it’’ he said in a calm voice manner. ‘’but the only explanation is right here in front of us. You need to accept your true feelings, even if I have to try to woo you. and in the end just to make sure things are definitely clear between you and I, and this bond,’’

I spin around to call him crazy, to tell him to shut up, that he’s wrong, but he’s already nose to nose with me in a second that closes my mouth instantly.

‘’we need to have sex.’’

[sgiandubh]

Hey, Miss Marple

You posted this "lesson" (your words) roughly three hours ago:

...when you probably already knew I posted also this, by the time you were wasting precious energy that could surely be better used towards compiling new timelines:

How do I know you couldn't help but still go for it?

Precedents exist. And your army of terracotta sock accounts, too. You used it before: last winter, to be exact, the last time somebody (SHW) challenged you openly. Since she does not take asks and submissions, you or your minions had to send DMs. Too bad.

The same thing happened to me ever since I dared blocking you. At least 5 to 10 sock accounts are blocked on a daily basis. Particular Anons: very telegraphic, quite nasty and different from the usual Mediterranean circus. Most never make it in here.

You then proceeded with velvet poisoning. A slow enterprise, very satisfactory, I think. You first compared me to Emily and almost called me a lunatic, with a sort of cold violence that speaks volumes. Afterwards, you managed to mention me, always in a faintly derogatory way (fair's fair, I suppose), but always altering the truth.

You did it again today:

Just a reminder, geachte mevrouw. I wrote this a while ago and it pissed off many, many people on your side of the trenches:

Yes, that pretzel logic post:

Where I did not analyze anything, let alone a video I never watched. What I did, is expressing an opinion and (isn't it ironic?) pleading for decency. That yes, I very much did and I hope you realize that writing down what you think about something is not punishable by law in a democratic country.

You also manage to call me arrogant, hungry for clicks, stupid and intolerant. All in one post that, objectively speaking, gathers less notes and reblogs than a Scottish ballad being shared on this blog. But this is not a pissing contest, madam and I will stop here with this kind of arguments.

You do you. I do me.

I always own my actions and I always edit my posts or amend my judgements when proven wrong. Always. It is a matter of morality.

Do you?

Thank God I am not always right. Thank God I have a wonderful job and a formidable family. Thank God I have many friends and a very rich life and past, already. And thank God for all the kind people on this side, who are not 'my sheep' (I think you might know very well what I am talking about) and whom I very rapidly grew fond of. All of them and despite our clear differences in understanding the mechanics of SS SamCait.

And if I can do something good for this terrible place, so be it. Your very deep, very ugly, gratuitous hatred will not stop me.

Your obsession with S is not my problem anymore. Cynically speaking, it was fun to watch for a while. I now have the full map of your character and I am very sorry to say: the thing that always bothers me the most is a lie.

I do not guarantee I will not mention you anymore. That would be an empty promise. But I now know more about the person behind the page and will stick to very cursory reference. Not a pretty picture and I am very sorry to say that: I never do it lightly.

[iamheretoyell]

HEEEEEEEY

Whenever someone makes fan art for me, I wanna cry cause WHAT I LOVE Y'ALL WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LIKE MY STUFF ENOUGH TO WANT TO DRAW IT I'M JUST A SILLY LITTLE RAT IN A TRENCH COAT ATP

(my third meeting for today got cancelled and my payroll is basically done so I'm likely going to be extra loud on here for the next 2-4 business hours (after I finish catching up on this fic))

I CAUGHT UP AND AM DOING HOMEWORK ON FUCKING PARALLAXES LIKE WHAT

I kinda wanna work on Revelations... Ignoring the voices fr rn

3:55 update, guys they fucked around and made my homework like, fun??? --- specifically the kind of fun that my neurodivergent lore-hungry ass dies for. WHY DID THEY DO THAT?? WHY AM I MAD THAT I HAVE TO DO SHIT THAT ISN'T MY HOMEWORK RIGHT NOW????

5:49, I just want you guys to know, since the game has been concepted, I will randomly just think about the ships in it, especially now that they're all tagged, and I just laugh about the fact that I literally own majority of the ship tags. And like, another two of them, I am like one of the only people who actively writes them. And that's genuinely so fucking funny to me like I always get a laugh out of that.

Don't ask me where I got them because they wrote themselves. (Except for Damien/Brimmy, and yes, there is a huge rant about it ready for the day someone opens up the Pandora's box of "how the fuck did you get a ship out of that??" I mean, it also wrote itself, but in a completely different way and there is a very clear cut progression from me having no idea who the fuck Brimmy was literally not even a year ago to them being one of my favorite doomed ships to write.)

But I bring this up because I'm killing time and laughing over this at the moment.

BUT AT SOME POINT I DO WANT TO POST A POLL BC I GEN WANNA KNOW WHAT Y'ALLS FAVORITE SHIP THAT I HAVE (QUESTIONABLY) CREATED IS. LIKE I'M SO FUCKING NOSY BC I HAVE ONES THAT LIKE--- I love as I live and breathe. And then there are ones that just like, fit for the story, are me playing around with dynamics bc I take nothing seriously and sometimes I just do that, or some other random fucking reason I've put a ship together (for example, the ship isn't even real, they're just being forced together for the sake of a manufactured story within a story, and this example is so not super specific and has nothing to do with anything I've ever written, am writing, or will write in the future).

I got off topic. Whatever. I'm taking my leave to go act like a village idiot because it's literally halloween.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE.<3

I MAY OR MAY NOT COME BACK TO DRUNKENLY POST--

Holy shit it's Friday tonight????

Let's fucking go I guess???

ANYWAYS MAY OR MAY NOT COME BACK TO DRUNKENLY POST AN ANSWER LATER.

Also p.s. if anyone's actually reading An Answer,

A. do you want to beta???? pretty please????

B. did you fall into my trap??? are you completely put off by the creek in it yet??? wait idk how far I even am post wise. WHATEVER MY POINT STANDS BC IT'S NOT EVEN JUST THE CREEK. ARE YOU PUT OFF BY THE STORY AND THE WAY IT'S BEING TOLD AND THE WAY THE CHARACTERS ACT?????

I really fucking hope so cause that's like the whole point LMAOOOO LIKE An Answer was so experimental on my part which in hindsight was maybe a bad idea because like-- we rarely get Mysterion being the villain and I was like

oh let me try something I've NEVER done before!!!

hope it carries!!!

but in the same breath, I don't really care because it will never be that serious and Kenny is also the villain in the Trin series. Maybe. Questionably. Kind of. At some point.

AND WITH THAT I'VE ACTUALLY SAID TOO MUCH BYE FOR NOW<3

[innerthoughtsmonologue]

About me

Hi, so, in this age of AI content, I just want to assure you that I'm real (unfortunately) so, here are a few things about me.

You may know me as inner/ aka error_404, but you can call me Jax :)

23 yo

eng/spa/pt

ace/bi

My favorite movies and series are the ones that make me cry, although I also love romantic comedies.

Fav movies: Past Lives, Set it Up

Fav series: Living with Yourself, Fellow Travelers, Heartstopper, Invincible, The Boys

Fav music albums: Trench (Twenty One Pilots 4life), Model from Wallows and dying lately from iamjakehill

Fav book: Looking for Alaska

About my current proyects

About the innerthoughtsmonologue blog

I started this blog because I really enjoyed writing to manage my pain and anything that disturbed my peace. I usually wrote in the morning hours and I have been doing it for years now.

Seeing my feelings written from years ago to the most current ones even seemed poetic to me, so I thought about publishing them because I believe that from any open wound flowers can come out.

About my WIP: Before we collide

Nora Pierce is a recent graduate who has just started her life as a writer. She thought that was the biggest change she would experience, but she was wrong. She would soon realize that there was more to discover from that moment on, not only about the world, but also about herself.

Nora lives in the shadows of her own heart, aware that something beats differently inside her, but she hides within herself so as not to crumble under the expectations of others.

There is something inside her of which she is unaware and which, like the flowers, seeks the light. But just when Nora thinks she can follow her heart, she is faced with an unbreakable barrier that stands between her and the truth.

Soon she will realize that she is so close, yet so far away, from finally being who she is. Unafraid, free from the shadows that haunt her.

Click to read it on Inkitt

Click to read it on Wattpad

Available in English and Spanish:)

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[leavingsunsets]

"What a shiny car."

You find Kalim injured and tend to him, with a twist.

(Just a drabble fic for a mootie.)

Shenanigans were a norm in NRC.

There'd be Adeuce and grim causing a ruckus, the tweels running about, and the voice of Sebek being heard a mile away. Really, despite how wild it all is, nobody takes it that seriously.

I mean, at the end of the day, they have their housewardens to keep them in line, and reign them in when things go too far. What's to worry about, right?

...

A lot of things, actually.

Scarabia was in chaos.

You see, Jamil's not here. Already a very bad sign. He's been in the clinic since getting into an incident during basketball practice. And so, due to a coincidence and an inconvenient conversation, you were to assist Kalim in his place instead. He only allowed it because he was only going to be gone for an hour or so.

Problem is, Kalim is nowhere to be found.

So, right now, you were in the middle of dodging magic spells being thrown left and right. You tried to deescalate the situation, you really did, but it seems unless you were either a certain assertive dancer or a white haired merchant's son, they didn't care what you had to say.

You hiss a curse under your breath, crawling across the ground like a soldier in the trenches. Kalim was usually present whenever everyone gathered, and that fact that he wasn't made you even more worried.

But finally, after 5 minutes of crawling, you get to the mirror. You quickly pass through it, but not before a pen hits your back as you hurry out.

------

Heaving, you're bent over, hands on your knees as you try to catch you breath. It would've been relieving to know you're out, but the emergency isn't over. So, with a groan, you think over where Kalim could possibly be.

"Uhh, c'mon, think brain, think."

....

"Maybe the light music club?"

Well, there's not much time for hesitation now, so.

Soon enough, you find your way there, and burst through the door.

"KALIM, THE DORM'S-"

Kalim lies buried under a cabinet, only his hand is out. And you could tell it was him because he was holding a drumstick. The literal stick, not the chicken leg, but I'm sure there wouldn't have been a difference anyway. Or would it? A chicken drumstick on the ground would be a much more concerning matter. A devastating waste of food. Anyways, back to the injured boy.

Alarmed, you immediately rush to push the cabinet off him. It doesn't move it much, but it's enough for him to wriggle out.

"Kalim! Are you okay?" you blurt out worriedly, helping him get up on his feet.

"I'm fine!" he reassures, chuckling nervously as he takes your hand. "Just might have rocked too hard a little is all, hehe." the boy even does a little laugh as if he wasn't buried under a 7 foot cabinet a few minutes ago. "Oh, but you were yelling something awhile ago. Did you need me for something?

"Yes, actually, and since you're fine, we need to go now." taking his hand, you start dragging him out the room, and out to the courtyard.

"Wh- Huh? But where are we going?" Kalim questions, stumbling along despite his confusion.

"There dorms in chaos right now. I tried to fix it but they just won't listen to me! Some are trying to help but-"

Suddenly, a vehicle crashes through the hallway in front of you. Dust from the rubble get all up in your faces, sending both of you into a coughing fit.

However, the moment the dust clears, you see it is a blue chevy equinox! And it's coming straight towards you!

You stumble out of it's way in a hurry, tripping on the grass. Kalim was less fortunate, having been blinded by the lights, and screams as the car vrooms toward him.

He collides with the vehicle, rolling on the hood with broken yelps. The driver doesn't even stop, they just keep driving until they crash into another building.

Then, a familiar voice speaks up from afar.

"What the fuck?"

Standing by the corner, is Jamil, frozen in place at the sight of a bruised Kalim groaning on the ground and your figure right beside rubble and a busted wall.

Crowley also takes a sudden appearance beside him, about to chide Jamil for his language until he sees the crashed hole in the wall.

He starts screaming something something about insurance while Jamil rushes toward you both.

"I swear to the SEVENS I can't keep my eyes off you for 5 MINUTES." He hisses through gritted teeth, brows furrowed in annoyance. He helps Kalim up while you try to pat the dust off your clothes.

"What happened?" The boy queries, putting an arm around a disoriented Kalim to lead to the clinic.

"A very long story."

Jamil sighs.

[nectaric]

happy birthday, zeus !! (may 24)

in honour of ten years of zeus birthdays (and 11 years of writing him), i wanted to do a little something to celebrate all my amazing roleplay partners and talk about how important y'all have been in either a) influencing my writing, b) influencing my portrayal, or c) being a reason i want to come here and write ten years later.

as many of you know (or are about to learn), zeus has been the actual love of my life for over a decade now. he was one of the first characters i ever roleplayed, and i have stuck with him pretty consistently this whole time. i could wax poetic forever about how much he means to me, and how important writing him has been in my life, but i'll spare you all a glimpse into my crazy. just know, zeus means the world to me. and if he has gone through growth in all the time we've worked together, then so have i. i was an extremely nerdy, extremely obsessive little teenager in her basement bedroom with big dreams and now i'm married, working the job i have always wanted, with a beautiful dog and big plans. it feels kinda crazy that i get to share so much of that with all of you.

and so many of you amazing people have been apart of that journey or have just joined and are giving me reasons to keep writing!

it wouldn't be right if i didn't start off with @ichoric. accepting me into your little roleplay group almost 11 years ago literally changed the trajectory of my life. you are literally one of my best friends in the entire world - we have seen each other grow through so much, have been there for each other through good shit and the bad. not only have you seriously influenced me as a writer through all of our shenanigans (drowning hazel, titans 2, scary ares, the time we sat next to each other on my couch and roleplayed the entire aphrares wedding for hours), but you have genuinely influenced me as a person. forget how much i love your portrayals, and the depth and creativity you pour into them, so much life and love and intensity that is a delight to behold - but so much of becoming who i am now has been with you at my side and i love you so much i'm lowkey crying as i type this. thank you for 10 + great years and i can't wait for more!

@kissofthemuses amber, i think getting to write zeus / hera with you permanently altered my brain chemistry. its crazy to think about just how long we've actually known each other -- but getting to see everything you get up to, all your cosplaying and adventures, has been a gift <3 not only do i feel like i have become a more mature individual thanks to being taken under your wing a little, but i also feel as though my zeus has fundamentally changed because of your portrayal and that's so powerful.

@pistolslinger nat maybe i'm just an emotional goober but you have always been such a beacon of light on my dash, long before you went off and became a crow. writing with you has always been so wonderful and enriching and i just know i can count on your for a laugh or heartbreak or general tomfoolery. never mind that you're so kind and open to everyone you seem to come across, but you're also really talented??? in so many ways???? i still think about our jason n zeus superhero au sometimes. incredible, thank you <3

@stygicniron talk about an og!!! hilary, we have been writing together for so long and every interaction is an absolute gem. you and i have been in the trenches of this fandom and somehow come out the other side relatively unscathed and i know part of that is how kind and wonderful and creative you are, but also because of how talented and solid your portrayal of nico is. i have seen few people have as good of a grasp on a character as you and its always an absolute joy to get to write anything with you. thank you for coming on this journey with me!!

@littleblackqrow khristle, you have been such a constant in my online life for years its genuinely difficult to remember a time before we followed each other and wrote together. the fact that i get to write with you despite fandom changes (because you have impeccable taste) is really so awesome and i've just really loved getting to write with you, talk with you ooc, and just experience being your rp partner for so long. between apollo, qrow, and grif, we've written so many heartwrenching and hilarious things, and i'm just super grateful you've been here !

@rheaeaseandflow marie i think you are one of the people i have been writing with the longest and don't think that goes unnoticed! your rhea is incredible and has honestly helped me to form so many important headcanons and opinions about my own characters that i think is so significant. you have always been this kind, warm, welcoming presence who i always look forward to writing with, and when i think about the "early days" of zeus i often think of you!

@singofus apis i literally cannot imagine this little corner of the rp world without you. i think greek myth and you are one of the first people who comes to mind. i remember when you and i both wrote significantly less muses on different blogs, but now we're here with our hoard, and our beautiful little headcanons we're still getting to develop, and its genuinely made my time here so much more enjoyable! you're so creative and thoughtful and you have seriously influenced so many of my portrayals i wouldn't even know where to start. here's to a lot more writing, and a lot more time well spent!

@asoulunbound krys!!! greek myth without you is like a pb&j without the pb. you occupy such an important space in this community and also just. in my world and i genuinely appreciate how much thought you put into your muses and the generosity you show to others. not to mention, the fact that you and i engage in very similar niche communities makes me feel so much more connected to you and i enjoy getting to write with you and see you on my dash so much !

@seekesotsibteadmist kyrian if there was an award for most supportive roleplayer ever it would be you. i feel so seen by you and you're so encouraging no matter what the circumstances are. i love getting to write with you (honestly, i could be better about it) because i can just feel the love and creativity you throw into S. i always enjoy getting an ask from you or seeing your ic posts and i am so grateful to have you in my little world, so thank you.

@seaprofound another day, another og !! gods sunny i feel like we have known each other for decades at this point - i think of this rpc, and i think about you and the constant beacon of sunshine (pun intended) you have always been. the absolute depth of your devotion to poseida is astounding and your love and care for the people around you is an example i think a lot of us could learn from. thank you for being so authentic and kind and creative and a part of my life for so long!!!

@stolenbythegods beth i know we don't write as much together these days but i will genuinely never forget you or ganymede or how much fun we have had writing together. you are so talented and sweet and i adore your ganymede with everything i have. your portrayal has altered the way i view not only zeus and gany's relationship, but also how i view zeus, and that's a really big achievement in my books. i miss you, and i'm so grateful for you!

@kallistcs unni aside from the level of sheer talent you possess and the care and detail you pour into your portrayals (which i appreciate so much my heart is FULL), you have also always been the one who swoops in and saves my day. i feel like i can always count on you to be the voice of reason to my emotionally driven, passionate rants about vague myth concepts with your frankly impressive knowledge of myth that i both admire and envy (fondly <3). i love having you around and i genuinely enjoy our threads so much i look forward to getting to write them every time i log on (even if i am Slow)

@saccharic MY SON !!! giuli. i'm not even going to talk about writing because you are talented and ily and i enjoy it but that's not what matters here. i remember when you were abt 14 and i have gotten the joy of watching you grow and become so so so successful and such a wonderful little lady and i could not be more of a proud dad. i feel like this is such a rare gift and i cherish it, i really do

this is a shoutout to others who have been a constant on my dash and who have contributed significantly to how much i enjoy being here. you're all wonderful, and talented, and i'm absolutely grateful to have you around <3

@appleyed @eriny3s @eileithyiia @anthcs @tragillary @ofprevioustimes @reastless @deadshe @luxcruor @thecs @withinycu

and to those of you who i haven't written with much yet, but who i genuinely look forward to writing more with! thank you for following me and letting me invade your space <3

@caeloservare @candlewick-corporation @aestasrosis @sunguns @hxntresses @unseenking @allbains @kuokuana @eiiskonigin @noirbeast

[ben-guy]

Undertale Month Day 9: Papyrus

UT month origins

< Day 8 < ★ Day 9 ★ > Day 10 >

Hey y'all! I decided I should probably just do something involving Papyrus' "puzzle party" that I alluded to on days 1 and 4, meaning we're back to the ninth monster liberation day anniversary continuity! I wonder if anyone reading these has gotten every single little reference I've done. Not just the obscure references to stuff in game, but the references to stuff like the newsletters and the alarm clock dialogue. Sometimes I worry it'll make this less accessible... ah well. Day 9!

Papyrus scratched his chin, trying to figure out what was wrong. He'd worked through the night making sure it was perfect. There was a maze to get to the front doors obviously, which he'd made out of mirrors this year, with a shortcut for Asgore per Undyne's request. It had taken hours to find him after he'd gotten lost last year, so Papyrus had finally conceded. The punch bowl fishing minigame was ready, little fish made of ice and all. The colored tile cookies had their rules printed on them, in edible ink of course. Finally, he walked over to examine the flamethrowers, carefully examining them with suspicion.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. SANS MUST HAVE MESSED WITH THEM!"

Papyrus pulled out a protractor, examining the exact angle of the devices. Now he was certain of it. Each had been shifted by several degrees. The feng shui was all off. With two quick tugs, he realigned them, double checking with the protractor. All good... but... hrmmmm... no, something was definitely still wrong. Had he forgotten something? He grumbled in annoyance. The invitations/liability waivers had been sent out well ahead of time, the pet rock had been fed, the streamers and signs were all up, and he'd even made sure it was all up to code with city hall. What was he missing? After a moment, he stamped a foot, looked towards the house, and called out to his brother.

"SANS, COULD YOU COME OUT HERE? I THINK I'M FORGETTING SOMETHING."

Sans came out and looked around carefully.

"are the trenches in the backyard dug?"

"OF COURSE!"

"and you put all the keys in place for the maze?"

"CERTAINLY!"

"the flamethrowers are in position?"

Papyrus squinted at Sans.

"THEY WEREN'T A FEW MINUTES AGO, BROTHER, BUT I FIXED THAT."

"no clue what you're talking about. The bucket of MTT brand glitter on the top of the door?"

"THAT ONE WAS VETOED BY CITY COUNCIL, REMEMBER?"

"yeah, they do get a bit touchy about war crimes. 'dunno papyrus, everything seems set to me."

Papyrus sighed, shaking his head. He supposed that it couldn't be too important if he'd forgotten. He walked over to one of the house's windows and crawled back inside, locking it behind him. Now, the only way in was truly through the maze. Inside the house, he performed one final sweep... only to be met with his worst nightmare in the kitchen.

Marinara stained paw prints. Stray noodles on the floor. A cooking pot full of dog residue. Papyrus fell to his knees.

"DAMN YOU, YOU ACCURSED HOUND! DAMN YOU A THOUSAND THOUSAND TIMES! DAAAAAAAMN YOOOOOOOOOU!"

Next

[antag-onst]

First post, first written fic. hope you guys like it :3

Warning : Violence, Mentions of war, PTSD?

Synopsis : Protag has a nightmare and ends up accidentally nearly choking his s/o

Characters : Salem, Vivienne (ocs, will post more about them soon ! )

Angst, probably? More lore will be posted soon. This is a short one lol

When I opened my eyes in the middle of night, I expected to see the comforts of the ceiling in my home and my wife whom I thought was laying beside me. So why is it that when I opened my eyes, all I could see was a terrible past staring at me in the eyes? I struggled to move, my heart was pounding at a million miles per hour.. I thought I had gotten over this. I was getting better, wasn't I?

The sights of war surrounded me. Instead of the familiar bedroom I had always slept in, I saw the trenches of what was left of the last war. The cries and screams of soldiers on the battlefield was not a welcome sound to my ears. I clutched onto my rifle and put my back against the dirt walls of the trenches. I could only see the blood and bodies of those who were fortunate to be taken so quickly.. And the unfortunate ones who remained will have to deal with the trauma for the rest of their lives, just like me. Bullets, gunshots, everywhere, this wasn't something I wanted to return to. My legs were giving out on me as I ran through the dug in trenches. The friends I had made during my time in training now lay lifeless on the cold dirt.

Bombs, everywhere. How terrible. I pant and pant as I continue running for my life. If the gods could hear me, couldn't they just take me out and return me to a peaceful slumber? My thoughts clearly seemed to be the only thing I focused on because I ended up accidentally tripping on a small rock. The thud was audible as I struggle to get myself back up. It was hard to breathe.

“ Pathetic. Just pathetic ” A familiar voice could be heard from above me.

That voice.. No way.

I profusely look up to see the familiar scarred face of a man who I thought I had killed years ago. But this was a dream right?..

“ Scared to look at me? Is this how you really remembered that day? ” He chuckled as he looked around the environment they were in, his low voice somehow overpowering the constant noises of the firearms and explosives. The man got down on one knee in order to get closer to my level, with his hand he tightly got a hold of my chin and forced me to look up at him.

“ I'm not really dead, you know. ” God that stupid smirk on his face, I wanted to wipe it off so badly but how could I when he was the one taking control of this situation.. But.. He's not being genuine, right? This was just a dream after all but why couldn't I force myself awake? Why couldn't I speak? I was at a point where I was frozen, the only thing I could control were my thoughts.

“ I don't care if you believe me or not. This must be a dream, right? ”

He was mocking me and he seemed amused by it too. his red eyes flickering down at me with a hint of crazy in them.

“ Kill me again, I dare you. ”

It wasn't my first thought to kill him again.. But then my body moved on its own.. I stood up, then both of my hands moved to his neck. Why was I starting to choke him? I could tell he was entertained by the look I had on my face as I choked him. My fingers wrapping around his throat, constricting him of air.

“ Good boy. ”

Were his last words before suddenly, a faint voice played in the back of my head. It was calling my name.

When I recognized who it was, my eyes flung awake as I realised, infront of me.. The one who I was actually choking this entire time.. was my wife.

“ Salem! Salem.. P-Please stop... ” She could barely use her voice as my hands were tight around her throat. When I saw what was infront of me, I let go. My hands stayed close to my chest.. What was I thinking, choking my own wife?!

She let out a few coughs once my hands released her neck. I.. felt so guilty in this moment. That was until she looked at me with a look of concern and worry as she scooted herself towards me.

“ ..Salem.. Are you alright..? ” She asked, looking into my eyes.

I was such a terrible person.. She doesn't know of my past and I even tried to choke her out in my sleep.

“ ..Vi.. I-I'm fine.. Just a bad dream.. ”

Tears were threatening to leak out of my eyes. All it took was the look in my eyes for my wife to wrap her arms around me softly and that was the last trigger it took for myself to burst, crying and sobbing in her arms.

I had so many questions, and that dream only gave me more.

Vippe 36A - Recorded.

Author Notes :

Feel free to ask me questions about this ! I might write more about this mystery man who is haunting Salem in the near future but I might try to flesh out Salem and Vivienne (the wife) first before doing so. Uh yeah so thats ab it hope you liked this random oc thingy!!!!! ill also make an introduction post for myself and for Vippe 36A as a whole, ill reply to any questions so have that for now lolll

[gust-jar-simulator]

Somebody liked my post on evil Red so here’s a teaser for Penumbra, featuring Legend and Blue.

-🐇❄️🧊❄️🐇-

Legend… really didn’t know what to think of his new captors. He’d been expecting a cell, maybe some shackles. At worst, fucked up dark magic and torture devices. This room was certainly functioning as his cell, but there were rugs and little seating poufs and a slightly-better-than-shitty bed, all in alarming shades of pastel that clashed horribly with the bare stone and rune-enforced door.

If he thought about it too hard he felt like a pet, so he didn’t. No need to tempt the already sadistic gods.

He’d heard the three shadows bickering outside his door maybe an hour ago- the greenish one had been throwing his authoritative weight around, it sounded like, demanding an interrogation, but the other two had headed him off with mentions of “Vio” and the game and something about hospitality that had devolved into a shouting match. At this rate he was just sort of hoping they remembered Hylians needed to eat. Why invent future horrors when he could wait patiently and see them for himself?

He was busy considering the cracks in the walls when the door finally creaked open on heavy hinges, and the blue one hustled into the cell with a platter of something, collapsing back against the door with a harried sigh that echoed strangely.

“Fuck everything,” the ice-encrusted shadow hissed, “but fuck that guy in particular.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

The dark’s head snapped up, frozen eyes gleaming with a sick milky film. “Excuse you?”

“Oh, sorry,” the veteran drawled. “I meant to say the weather’s so nice today.” He leaned back on the bed, eyeing the windowless walls appreciatively. “Kind of monastery chic meets little girls’ tea party. Bold choice for a prison, I like your moxie.”

With an utterly disgusted noise, the dark stepped forward to drop the platter a little too roughly on a tea table- mostly fruits, nuts, and a few mushrooms, with an entire waterskin instead of a cup. He then straightened a chair, a doily, and gave a rug in the corner a particularly severe look like he was resisting the urge to completely pull it up, hands flexing a couple of times.

Legend watched with great interest as he hissed between his teeth again, icy vapor misting in the air. “This is stupid. We both know this game is fucking stupid.”

Well. He wasn’t expecting one of his captors to crack so soon. “I’m the guy in a box.”

“Yeah?” There was a crunching, grinding noise as the shadow turned to glare at him sightlessly, clear water dripping from a crack in his stony neck. “Well our guy in your box is a massive fucking problem, because I give it a week max before Red or Green or both can’t handle the fucking temptation of a good guy on our turf.”

He liked to consider himself a reasonable guy. Villains typically didn’t have much worthwhile to say but gloating or breakdowns of their own weaknesses, and this was decidedly the latter but far too soon. He frowned. “Uh. What about you? Gonna give in and eat me or something?”

“You wish I’d eat you.” Blue- that had to be his name- started pacing, rugs glittering with frost as he started wearing a trench in the floor. “If I had my way I’d drop you right back on the Goddess’s golden tits. Or a ditch. But the game’s been set, and there’s rules to this shit, so here you are and here I am and Vio is pulling a goddamned stunt that will get us all killed.”

Legend dragged over a pillow and propped it behind his back. “Do I get a reward if I pretend to be empathetic or something? Is this group therapy or just a you thing.”

Blue made a noise like a feral boar, and the temperature dropped so fast his ears popped.

Right. Unknown and unpredictable shadow monsters with possible elemental affinities. That. Legend swallowed, and licked his dry lips.

Dragging his compusure together, thread by tenuous thread, Blue took several deep breaths that fogged the air around him like the cloudy crown of a mountain. “I mean this in the most genuine way you’ll ever hear: watch your fucking mouth, you stupid piece of shit.” He marched closer, cold as rain and twice as unpleasant, to stand a respectable foot away from the bed and glare down at him. “I’m a lovely spring flower compared to the rest because I don’t want shit to do with you. Your only fucking use to me is collateral for my teammate’s health. Green thinks you might be useful. You don’t want to be useful.” He leaned down slightly, voice lowering like someone could hear. “Red wants to be friends, but if you get uppity you’ll wish he’d just killed you. And I won’t stop him, because I love him more than I care about your fucking well-being. Get me?”

“Gotten.” He was very, very uncomfortable having a possible ice elemental within spitting distance, but heroes thrive under pressure. He could work with this. He could sit put and be boring, or he could push his shitty luck. The man leaning over him was cracked like oracle bones. “What about Dark? Should I be expecting courting gifts?”

“Dark doesn’t know you’re here.”

What. Did they sneak him into the enemy’s base for fun?

They’d been calling it a game from the start.

Shit.

Shit.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Sunday | Tagging @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @strafethesesinners @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @neverthesameneveranother @wrathfulrook @jacobsneed @voidika @harmonyowl @strangefable @schoute and anyone with something to share <3

This weekend we're boarding the angst train, folks. First up, you're getting a snippet from Chapter 11 where John is going through it, followed by a little something from Calahan (from a different chapter), that simply pulled at my heart and I had to share it. <3

When breakfast was finished John retreated to his bedroom, taking a seat at the mahogany desk and opening one of Sabrina's notebooks to the page he'd been on before going downstairs that morning. The night before, sleep had refused to come after his encounter with Sabrina, so he had slipped back into methodically reading through her entries. What started as a routine search for clues that could help the Project evolved into selfish anticipation of finally finding anything written down about himself. He frowned as he flipped back to the first page of the notebook he was holding. Ironically enough, he had almost skipped that one because he had deemed it too outdated based on the year she had scribbled on the front. At the end, curiosity and fear of missing anything crucial about her had gotten the best of him, especially when he was faced by the idea the notebook was going to offer him insight into Sabrina's life when she was around Savannah's age. Upon opening it, a handwritten note had caught his eye and pushed him to do something absolutely impulsive.

July, 2002 Monkey, I know sometimes you feel like your visions are a curse, especially when people refuse to heed our warnings. I promise I will do my hardest to remind you every day that they're far from it, that there's a meaning to your gift, a reason why you're facing so much darkness. When doubt creeps in, think of everyone that we have managed to help so far and the hope you've given them. It's the same hope I felt from the moment I held you in my arms when you were born. A conviction you will make the world a better place by simply existing in it.

John had finally gotten an answer what made the Deputy so set on caring for others to the point she overlooked her own well-being, where her determination and willingness to help came from. He had no doubt who the messy writing on the page belonged to. Her father. Sabrina had called him a good man, and after reading his letter, John could see where she was coming from and how the man's love shone in the words he had written for her. After this discovery his room had felt suffocating, too small. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd jumped into his truck, telling himself he was going for a drive. It would help clear my head. Put some space between us. The moment he found himself on the empty dark roads illuminated only by his headlights, he just couldn't shake the thoughts of Sabrina off. His pesky conscience reminded him of how he had made her wait for him for hours simply because he couldn't trust himself around her. The drive with no direction had ended up with a destination. Her cabin. The home he had forced her and her sister to abandon. As he had pushed open the front door, memories of entering the house not so long ago returned to him, reminding him of his foolish belief that burying himself in work would fix anything. Wordlessly, he had walked through each room until he had found himself in her kitchen, his eyes stopping at the fridge adorned by mementos. Amongst the few polaroids hanging on it, there was one of young Sabrina with what he assumed was her father. His hand had reached on his own accord, removing the picture before shoving it in his jacket. He had left after that, driving back to the ranch, the whole time refusing to read too much into his actions. Just a silent thank you for saving my life. So I don't feel beholden for what she did on the road. That's all.

He blamed his lack of sleep for his nonexistent self-control that morning. The second he had entered the kitchen all his eyes could focus on were her bare shoulder and the way the thin T-shirt clung to her lithe body. He refused to allow himself to think about the butterfly tattoo and smooth skin his lips earned for. Nor about the outline of her- No. Things had only gotten worse after that. The notebook entries were getting to him, revealing things about her when she herself was guarding her secrets. He couldn't help but wonder how she had coped with the visions for so long, especially when from the sounds of it, the only person that believed her was her father. The man's letter combined with the worried look in her eyes as she questioned him about Darcy Harris and the others had caused him to cross a line. To reach out and touch her, offer comfort. Instead of giving the polaroid to her directly and having her question his reasons for doing it, he had decided to tuck it in the notebook prepared for her, hoping Sabrina would find it on her own eventually. At breakfast, he had watched her closely, trying to figure out if she had made that discovery, and judging by her lack of reaction, she hadn't yet.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts before they could drag him down further. "Yes?" John heard a giggle before it opened, then Savannah's head poked into the room with a huge smile aimed his way. "Delivery. Your lunch is here." She entered promptly, carrying a plate in her hands that she set on the desk next to one of the piles of notebooks. "Whatcha doing, John?", she asked, raising on her tiptoes in attempt to glance over his shoulder at the page he was reading. "Work stuff, Savi.", he responed, closing the notebook before she could recognize her sister's handwriting. He turned in his chair to look at her as she leaned against the desk. "Work? Rin-Rin said you're a lawyer?" "Yes, I am." As her face scrunched in contemplation, John imagined her brain trying to select which question to throw at him first, then she eventually asked "Is it boring?" Amusement took over him at her directness before he replied, "No. There's always something new to deal with. What made you think that?" "Oh, Rin-Rin said it is." That made him laugh, "Did she now?" Savannah nodded, "Annnd, do you help bad people?" Depends who you ask, child. When he didn't respond right away, she added, "Rin-Rin always told me it's why she became a detective, because they help people while lawyers sometimes have to defend bad guys." John nodded, "I believe I'm helping people, too, Savi." Savannah smiled at his words. "And your sister-" Sabrina calling out her name cut him off, ruining his chance at finding out more from the one person that was most likely to respond to his questions with nothing but the truth. "Ohh, I have to go, John.", she hurried over to the door, "I'm going outside to play.", suddenly she stopped, turning back as a realization hit her, her voice taking on another note of excitement, "Ah, I can't believe I forgot! When will you show me your plane?" "Soon." "Sav?", Sabrina's voice was now on the second floor, making Savannah utter out, "Bye, John." before closing the door. He could barely make out the two of them talking quietly in the hallway, then silence took over the upstairs area as their voices faded away. John got up from his chair with a tired sigh and made his way over to the set of windows in the bedroom. Just stretching my legs. Letting some fresh air in. The poor excuse seemed enough as he opened the door that led onto the balcony.

On an ordinary day, before Sabrina had turned his world upside down, he would have been in a middle of a Confession by then. Tirelessly working on uncovering the sins of whoever was meant to sit in his chair. Instead, he had lunch waiting on him and was watching Sabrina place down a blanket in a shaded spot on the grass before sitting down. A smile appeared on her face at Savannah running around on the lawn, her sister's laughter carrying inside. He knew what Joseph would tell him if he was brave enough to come clean about what he had done, "They're a distraction, Brother. You can't allow this to continue." John forced his attention back to where it needed to be, spending another hour buried in Sabrina's notes when all he craved was to go outside and join them. To selfishly steal a couple of minutes for himself. When he finally took a break, he decided he could use the time to do make daily call to Deputy Hartley while he had no one around to eavesdrop. He picked up the receiver, "Deputy, are you ready to be free of your sins?" He wasn't surprised by the silence that greeted him. It was the usual reply got from the Sinner, followed by curses and empty threats that made him wonder what potential his brother saw in the man. Still, Joseph finds him worthy and he's never wrong about what the Project needs. "Hudson here is feeling a bit lonely. The sooner you get cleansed, the quicker you'd join her in my Gate." That did it. "Fucker, cut the bullshit, this is getting old. When you finally find the guts to face me, I won't be the one getting cleansed and tortured. Where is Sabrina?" John stared at the receiver, trying to control his anger at Hartley's tone and the way he had said Sabrina's name. The question left his mouth before he could stop it, "Why? What is she to you, Sinner?" A dark laugh came through a few seconds later, "Does little Johnny have a crush? You're not worthy of breathing the same air she does, bastard. What she is to me is none of your DAMN business." In a flash his hands sent all the contents on his desk flying to the ground, the neat stacks of Sabrina's notebooks tipped over while the empty plate shattered against the hardwood floor. He was tired. Tired of suppressing the urges. Tired of his temper reaching a boiling point anytime he dealt with Hartley. Tired of forcing a smile and having to tolerate that Sinner while he did his best at hindering John's efforts at preparing for the Collapse. Tired of not even knowing what Hartley was to Sabrina and why Joseph placed his interest in him to begin with. "I have to love them, Joseph? HE'S NOT WORTHY! He's not.", the words escaped his lips in frustration and he felt relieved he was alone at the ranch, that nobody was witnessing his meltdown. Especially not you, Deputy.

You like me, Angel. Too bad you refuse to admit it. But in a way Calahan was glad about [Mary May] faking disinterest. He told himself it was for the best, that it would be an unwanted complication in the middle of a holy war, that the last thing he needed was to fall for anyone and he was certain with her it would be unavoidable and as natural as breathing. The biggest trouble I can ever get myself into.

[peachywritesstuff]

Wendigo | 000: the accident

Summary: Poppy hasn't felt human since the day she was born. With the absence of her mother she was left with unanswered questions on who she was. What she was. She finally gets her answers one night.

Warnings: blood and gore,underage drinking,bullying,murder

Wc:2.8k

Author's Note:Decided to move my Xavier ff from Wattpad and onto here! I hope this fanfic gets the love it deserves. Enjoy!

Masterlist

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POPPY IMBER IS A COLD-BLOODED KILLER. Or so she thinks.

Bodies of teenagers lay just a few feet away from her. Some missing their heads, and others were torn to shreds that Poppy couldn’t even recognize them. Her clothes were somewhere on the ground in pieces, the bottom half of her face was covered in blood, and the only thing that was around her covering her body was a black trench coat that she stole from one of her victims. She didn’t mean to kill them. It was an accident. It’s not like she knew she was going to turn into a man eating monster. She had her theories but she didn’t think she was right.

The mysterious death of her mother left her with so many questions. Of who she was, what she was. Questions that her father couldn’t answer. The one thing she did know now, was that she was no longer the shy human girl she was a few hours prior

She was something else now. Something powerful,strong,dangerous. She feels it coursing through her veins. It was something she couldn’t explain in words. Something you would have to experience yourself to know the feeling.

She was calm, a little too calm for someone who went on a tiny murder spree. She didn’t shake or quiver when she looked at the dead teens. She didn't cry,or sob, she didn’t scream out in terror for what she had done, and she wasn’t scared. All she did was look down at them with a blank face. She was far too numb to react to what she had done.

She turned and walked away from the crime scene, following the scent of salt water. She heard the sounds of loud music and the sound of laughter coming from the party. They were completely unaware of what had just taken place, and won’t know until a few hours later. As she approached the lake Poppy’s sensitive nose began to burn at the stench of alcohol. With her improved vision, she could see the party from across the lake. Drunken teenagers dancing and laughing with no care in the world. If only they knew what had happened right across from them.

She was so far away from them that they could not see her but she could see them. She blended in with the night and watched them scurry around like prey. She stood still as a mannequin. She envied their humanity even if her's were stripped away from her a few hours ago. She missed it. She missed feeling normal. But she wasn't ever really normal in the first place so what did she miss? Her innocence? Her naive nature? The sweet girl that was as good as gone now?

The lake reflected the full moon and its light shined off of Poppy’s face. As she didn't feel the same, she didn't look the same either. Her eyes were a misty gray color, and if one looked at her they would assume she was blind. Her nails were longer and sharper, her jawline was more defined, and some of her teeth were sharper, poking at the side of her gums. This person, this….thing was her. The reflection moved when she went to feel her face, it moved with her, and it blinked with her. This reflection belonged to her now. This was her now. Forever and always.

She stripped the trench coat from her body and walked into the lake and went about shoulder-deep before she began to wash off the blood.

At that moment, the only thing she wished she hadn’t done came to this stupid party. She should have stayed at home and said no to her friend.

Maybe her ‘friend’ would still be alive and she wouldn’t be what she is now. Maybe then she wouldn't have killed all those people.

Like a short ocean wave, all her emotions began to rush at her and she started to sob and wail into the night as her mind finally realized what she had done. Their screams, all the blood, their faces as she turned into a monster. She did that. She did all of it. Nobody heard her wails and sobs of despair. If they did, they were too drunk to notice. The whisper of the forest trees was the only comfort she got.

Poppy began to say sorry repeatedly. She didn't know why she was saying sorry. Maybe she was saying sorry to Mother Nature for taunting her beautiful land with such a horrible crime, maybe she was saying sorry to the little girl she once was, sorry for failing her and sorry for failing her dad and making his worst nightmare come true. Poppy was sorry for it all.

And above all.

She was saying sorry for not regretting a damn thing she had done.

Hours earlier

THE NIGHT WAS YOUNG AND WILD. Teenagers roamed around the party laughing and drinking god knows what. Couples were making out near trees, and Poppy didn't even wanna know what that noise she was hearing past the bushes. Going to a party in the middle of the woods was not how she wanted to spend her Friday night. She wanted to be at home in her bed watching TV while she was stuffing herself with junk food. But alas her friend Maggie forced her to come to the party. But now that she was here, she wished she resisted Maggist's plea’s a little more.

"Maggie I don’t know about this.” She said nervously. The longer she stood, the more she regretted coming here, but she couldn’t just leave. She rode here with Maggie and she doesn’t have her own driver's license or her own car so she was stuck here for the time being. Damn her need to be a people-pleaser.

“Oh relax Poppers,” She had cringed at the nickname. “You are gonna have fun, we are gonna have fun and get totally wasted.” Maggie began to guide Poppy into the crowd pushing through people until they finally reached the cooling rack with all the drinks. Maybe they will have some sprite? Poppy thought. Her hope deflated when Maggie opened up the cooler and all she saw were cans of beer. Maggie handed her a drink and she shook her head.

“Maggie you know I don’t drink.”

“Come on, don’t be a wimp.”

Damn, some friend you are. Poppy grabbed the drink from her head and watched as her friend opened hers and down half of it in three gulps. Maggie smiled at Poppy and she gave a small one back. The music changed to some pop music from the early 2000s and Maggie began to move with the music.

“Come on girl let's dance!” Maggie began to tug her arm but this time she resisted. She shook her head at her friend. “Nah I'm not really a dancer.” That was a lie. Poppy loves dancing. She just didn’t want to be in the middle of sweaty teenagers. Luckily her friend believed her little white lie and Poppy watched as her friend disappeared into the crowd.

Poppy let out a sigh and put her unopened beer back into the cooler. She found a seat and began surveying the crowd. Not one face she recognize went to school with her. A lot of them looked older than your typical high schoolers which makes Poppy think Maggie lied to her about this party.

She cringed at the god-awful bass that was too strong for the speakers to take. She is surprised the police haven't been called but then again maybe that's why they picked to have a party in the middle of the woods. Poppy reached into her jacket pocket and grabbed the water that she brought and took a sip. She hopes that she won't be here for long but she highly doubts that.

Before Poppy knows it, its almost 1 am and now she is just ready to go home. The party was still going on and she bet her dad fell asleep waiting up for her. She told him she was studying over at Maggie’s. She is definitely gonna get grounded for this.

Come on Maggie where are you?. She looks over the crows trying to find Maggie but has no luck. She sighed getting up from her chair. But she doubled over as the familiar pain she knows all to well comes back.

No. Please not again. Not here

It feels like her stomach is trying to eat itself. Her ears were hearing so many things at once, the leaves rustling, glasses clinking together, she could hear breathing, and most importantly she could heartbeats. Multiple heartbeats. They sounded like music to her ears. The air didn’t smell like sex and sweat anymore. It smelt sweet. So so so sweet. Poppy almost began to drool at the smell. Her feet were guiding her toward the crowd. The scent getting stronger and sweeter.

Her trance was broken when the pain came back even worse. Poppy looked down at her hands and saw her black manicured nails were longer and sharper. She flinched when her tongue pricked her teeth; they were sharp now. She began to hypervenatilate, her breathing becoming erratic.

“Oh my god,” She said shakily. “What the hell is happening to me?” Her question was answered with another pain pulsing through her stomach. She backed away from the party and began to deeper into the woods. She walked until she couldn’t hear the music anymore. The pain was so great she dropped to her knees and her sharp claws dug deep into the dirt. She groaned and groaned praying to any god to make the pain stop. To make what was happening to her stop.

Poppy was too distracted by her pain to hear the footsteps of multiple people coming up from behind her.

“Well well well if it isn't the school freak.” Go away, Shawn. Poppy thought. Poppy can deal with him and his goons bullying any other day, but now really wasn’t the time. Not when she felt like her stomach was ripping itself apart.

“Go away, Shawn.” She gritted out. He chucked and forcefully yanked her up and pinned her against a tree. His little minions watching behind him in pure glee. Of course, they would be here at the party. The pain in her stomach was long gone now. She was too distracted from the sharp bark stabbing in her back.

“Can’t believe you were friends with this freak Maggie,” The girl in question appeared in her line of vision and Poppy’s eyes widened. “How did you put up with this bitch?” Maggie laughed and walked closer to the girl.

“I didn’t, I couldn’t stand her half of the time I was with her. “ Maggie laughed at the wounded look in Poppy’s eyes. “No way, did you actually think I was friends with you?” Poppy looked away as tears gathered in her eyes.

“Nobody wants to be friends with a freak like you.” She sneered at the girl. Shawn laughed big and loud. Like that was the funniest joke he ever heard in his small dicked life. His hold tightened on Poppy. Through Poppy’s blurry eyes, she pushed down the betrayal of her only friend and smirked down at Shawn.

“Honestly Shawn, looks like you're really obsessed with me,” She leans up as far as she can go and whispers in his ear. “ Are you sure your dick doesn’t go hard when you see me?”

Before Shawn has time to react Poppy knees him where the sun doesnt shine and runs deeper into the woods. She hears Shawn’s groans and mutters curse words. She ran faster hearing the sound of more footsteps rushing behind her. She zigzagged from tree to tree, not once looking behind her to see if the group of boys is gone.

She is knocked down from the side and she rolls over until her back hits the tree. Her legs and arms were covered in small scratches from the small branches surrounding it. She knew she wasn’t going to outrun them. They were football players. Shawn looked down at her angrily before dragging her by her hair.

Poppy yelped in pain and hit wherever she could in hopes he would release her. He did not flinch but instead dropped her on the ground before he got on top of her. Her head swung to the side from the force of his slap.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled at her. Poppy felt her blood pool at her mouth, he grabbed her chin and forced it to look at her. “I thought you learned not to run away from me,” She whimpered at Shawn tightening his grip around her jaw. “I can see you didn’t, guess I got to teach you all over again.” He looked behind him and motioned one of his goons to hand him something.

Unbeknownst to the jock, his hand drifted upwards towards Poppy’s mouth, and she did not hesitate to bite down hard. He screamed out in pain and got off her cradling his hand.

The sounds of his cursing were muffled to her ears. All she could focus on was the blood that was in her mouth. She licked her lips and her eyes rolled to the back of her head and moaned in delight. The painful pulses in her stomach were back now, but they felt different than all the others. Yes, there was pain but…. The taste of the metallic blood brought something else with it. Hunger. Not the hunger Poppy would get when she skipped breakfast, but the type of hunger that makes her crave something beyond human food. Something you want to sink your teeth into and claw at the flesh and tear into the veins,and the muscles until you feel the soft tissues of the human organs.

In summary, it tasted good and Poppy wanted more.

Her face felt different ,and her nails were sharp just like they were minutes prior and her lips twitched revealing a small part of her sharp canine teeth. She looks at Shawn hungrily but he was too busy soothing his bleeding hand. Oh how doomed he is.

“You fucking bitch you bit my fucking hand!” Poppy ignored his words. Too busy staring that his blood that dripped from his hand. She didn’t know she bit him that hard. Shawn turned to look at her angrily but stopped at the sight of her face.

“What the fu-”

Poppy jumped onto Shawn, ripping into his neck. He screamed and tried to push her off him but she was strong and unmoveable. She hears the others behind her screaming in terror and frozen in their places. They are so stupid. They should be running by now, but that's okay. That just means there is more food for her. The more the merrier

Blood splattered onto her and on the ground,and it sprayed for miles. Poppy moaned in pleasure at the warm blood that ran down her throat. However, she was mildly annoyed that Shawn just wouldn’t stop fucking screaming. It was quickly getting on her last nerves.

So she snapped his neck.

She hears Maggie scream in horror as a part of Shawn’s neck bone popped out of his neck. He was dead now, which was good. The screaming had stopped, but now she had to deal with the 5 more behind her. She will come back to him later.

Poppy stood slow and calculated. Shawn’s blood dripping down her chin and onto her dress. She turns to the stupid teenagers who have yet began to run for their lives. She walks at a slow pace towards them but is stopped shrotly after she began to groan in pain.

She kneeled to the ground and felt her bones began to crack. She screamed as her fingers began to grow, her spine crimbled into a new form, her teeth began to fall out and new sharper ones grew in its place. She grew taller, almost 9 feet tall. Her groans turned into growls and soon her voice was unrecognizable. Horns grew out of her head and they looked similar to deer antlers. Only longer and sharper.

She stood on her feet staring down at the tiny humans as they shook in fear. They were scared. Good. Fear makes the food taste better. She roared into the night and it echoed beyond the dark woods. The humans flinching, by now of course they were shaking and crying sprouting pleas at her like she would actually hear them. Fools.

They should know that Poppy is not here anymore. She was gone for the night. Laid dormat in the mind of her mondter. Whatever pleas came from the humans ears was heared by no one. It is far too late for these unfortunate souls.

She was a Wendigo now.

And these poor unfortunate souls were about to die a very, very horrible death.

So this is the first chapter! I hoped you liked it! Yall better comment and not be a ghost reader.(but if you are thats fine) I'm debating if I should cross post this on Tumblr I'm still thinking about it but ANYWAY. I have soooo much planned for the series. Idk how many chapters it will have but this won't be a short series so dw. Again I hope yall liked it and lmk if yall want me to make a tag list so yall can get updates!

See yah

Ps. Sorry if there is any grammar mistakes. I kinda got lazy and stopped editing at least the last portion of it

[adornesibley]

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH: a Newsletter

Reading: Vaesen: Nordic Horror Roleplaying, The Future by Naomi Alderman

Finished Reading: The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw

Podcast: Old Gods of Appalachia

Playing: Dark Souls: Prepare to Die Edition (PS3)

Making: DOOM levels and Zines

Writing: Project E

Word Count: 167578

TLDR: Looked at old work: liked it. Editing trenches: *cries in author.* Put trigger warnings on books, please. TTRPGs: I have a group now. Writing stories with others is sick as. TTRPG recommendations. Beetle Knight was funded fantastically. 

This month I decided to take a short three-day break from the editing mines to go crack open an older WIP that I last looked at about a year ago. I couldn’t stop laughing through the first three chapters and legitimately couldn’t remember what I’d written scene to scene. I got to feel the intrigue as a character picked up a shoebox beneath their bed, and got angry at myself for not telling me what was in it! What a gloriously strange experience it was. I likely won’t spend too much time on this WIP in the coming months, but it’s good to know that when I’m done with my current big novel’s rounds of edits, I’ve got a project that I’m massively excited for waiting in the wings.

Speaking of my current big novel. Let’s look at that word count. Seems pretty similar to last month. I have done SO MUCH EDITING. I’ve realized that right now, my biggest concern is making sure to correct errors, cull old plot points, and generally tighten up dialogue. I feel that I’ve been too focused on culling words and maybe the more important thing is making sure this book fucking SHINES. Besides, while I shop this novel around, I can be happily chugging along on my other WIP, so no wuckas.

I am part of a writer’s group which meets once a month. It is quite a large group with many people who flow in and out. It is a beautiful group and an invaluable fount of knowledge. Every second month we have a discussion topic. This month was talking about the ethics of being an author and how much responsibility we have to our readers in regard to the topics we write about. 

This led to talk of trigger warnings and the suggestion of books having them. (SPOILERS! I think they should have them) There were varying ideas on all sides of the spectrum, but there was one point made that has stuck in my head. Trigger warnings are just like nutrition labels. If you are allergic to nuts you need to know before you buy a product if it contains nuts, right? Trigger warnings are the same. You don’t want to be taking a big bite out of some delicious morsel and then suddenly you feel your throat closing up. Same same. You don’t want to put hours into a book, invest in the characters, only to suddenly have your exact trauma thrust into your eyeballs. You can’t unread it. If you have been honestly triggered before, you understand how it can be hard to stop that spin when it starts. And from an author's standpoint, you don’t want to turn off potential readers also. One scene that may seem insignificant to you, may be terrifying to another. Then they may never pick up your books again, for fear of said thing.  

Speaking of this delightful group, near the end of the meeting a friend was talking to a brand new member about TTRPGs and I just so happened to be carrying CY_BORG with me! We chatted a bit and I enthusiastically suggested I should and would run a one-shot for them, their partner, my friend, and another writing buddy of mine. SO I’VE FINALLY GOT SOME TTRPG FRIENDS TO PLAY WITH! WOO! I am thrilled about the idea of introducing these fine folks to all the strange and interesting TTRPG systems I’ve picked up over the last year.

TTRPGs are such an invaluable resource for storytelling. With a few dice, some rules, and a setting, you and a few friends can end up creating an entire world and a compelling narrative together, even if no one in the group is a writer! Now… if you are writers… well then, something truly incredible can happen. I think authors often think of the writing process as a solitary pastime. Traditionally, it may be, but I think we undersell how satisfying and freeing collaborative storytelling can be. Hell, plenty of fantasy writers started their careers (See Raymond E. Feist) dictating and polishing up their D&D campaigns that they ran with their friends!

And in the spirit of collaboration, I want to recommend some small projects that need your help! I’ll be personally backing these later this month when I’ve secured my own funds.

Budgeon: A digestible mini adventure zine with a VERY old-school feel. The art is all first person a la Combat Heroes, but can be played as a party or solo! It even encourages you to draw your own maps, very similar to how you might have played Stonekeep on DOS. (Big nostalgia for myself) As of posting this, this project needs additional support right now! Go give them some love. The basic zine is only FIVE USD. (And THREE USD for digital~!)

Thirty Horrors: A bestiary designed to be used with Mothership 1E. Let’s be real people, that means it could likely be converted for just about any system with minimal pain. The art is shaping up to be suitably uncomfortable and this project blew the hell up! They’ve reached heaps of stretch goals and it still has half a month to go~

SPEAKING OF BLOWING UP. Holy hell Beetle Knight did well! It ended up earning 22,898 USD out of the required 3,500. WHAT A SHOWING! I absolutely adore seeing small weird projects become more successful than anyone could have imagined. Certainly, it was more than the original creator expected as that final total completely blew past their final stretch goal.

Support weird. Support indie.