#YOU'RE SO SLAY

[fl0w0ered]

[genshin impact] Lynette watercolour drawing for her birthday ☆

[priintaniere]

i can be your chimra....or yuor dungeon lord

※ please do not repost my art ※   ➜ commission and ko-fi links in bio

[knockknockitsnickels]

"Sacrifice the Yourself" (title pending), the hip new slay the princess swap AU, in which you and the girlies must decide if you're gonna let a giant bird stab you (and maybe.... find love?!)

[fermentingheart]

Slay the Princess Spoilers

Slay the Princess is beautifully written, I think everyone—even people who have only see the game via screenshots—knows this. So, it's only natural that I see the lines everyone has silently agreed to be the most impactful floating around everywhere. However, one I have never seen mentioned yet, and my personal favorite line, is the one you get at the tail end of the forsaken Oblivion Ending.

"You have made a decision. It is the wrong one. I love you."

I know the Oblivion Ending is probably everyone's least favorite ending, but I think this line alone has made it my second favorite. It's so simple, especially when compared to the other lines in the game, but I love how it perfectly encapsulates Slay the Princess to me.

Two entities made to oppose each other, put in a cruel scenario where their ideals are tested, and their feelings for each other are stressed. Conflict is a natural part of relationships, and in some cases, it's even good! They're not going to agree on everything, or like everything the other does, but the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet will always love each other, even when one has doomed the other for all eternity. There is forgiveness, and there is fondness.

[organizationhimself]

if you've ever played a game where """choices matter""" and weren't exactly taken with the one (1) different line of dialogue you got--scarlet hollow.

if you've ever lied to a character or went against your character's principles or wrecked a pottery shop just to see what would happen, and were disappointed when nothing did--scarlet hollow.

if the first time you got arrested for ransacking a random house in fable you hooted in surprise and delight--scarlet hollow.

if you liked disco elysium literally at all even a little bit, SCARLET. HOLLOW.

also play slay the princess if you haven't and it's not too violent for you (tw for gore and death and body horror, all of which is usually impermanent in case that has an effect on what bothers you like it does for me)

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

[ ID in ALT ]

he giggles

[gloriousmonsters]

love when you can ask the Narrator why the Princess is a Princess and he's like 'well i uhhhh YOU did that. maybe it's because uh... something something about her being above you... but still approachable... look i don't want to analyze or anthropomorphize your--' my guy. i am a primal being of Order and Eternity and Shaping. You're the one who convinced me I was some dude and were quite willing to take credit for shaping my view on the world through narration five seconds ago. Are you gonna look me in the eye and tell me the desire to interpret something worthy of adoration and more powerful than me as a dommy princess is written in the very nature of the universe or are you going to show me your browser history like a man

[itsonlypolite]

What is your favorite vessel/princess?

It's so hard to choose, I love them all!! But when I first read this, two vessels popped in my head right away because they feel like they're straight out of my nightmares: The (Deconstructed) Damsel and the Drowned Grey

The metaphors! The visuals!! The horrifying tragedy of it all!!! <333

[artibirdi]

My sister was being awful insistent that she should buy procreate. If not for me, then for her to mess around on

So guess who got it before she could :]

I have graduated from IbisPaintX and onto Procreate (I miss ibis's layout)

[moistvonlipwig]

angel in s1 ep 1 of btvs was so funny, partly because david boreanaz did not yet grasp the particulars of how to pretend to be another person in front of a camera for money, but also because angel introduces himself to buffy as "a friend" and when she's like 'ok but what if i don't want a friend you freaking weirdo lol' his response is to go 'uhhh well i didn't say i was YOUR friend.' king you don't HAVE any friends what are you saying!!! incomprehensible little guy who does not know how to speak to people <3

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[escaping-peril12]

NEW HORIKOSHI ART?!?!?

THEY LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL

[joffyworld]

Narender in this shirt🤔🤔🤔

Why you ask me this like I could draw it??? 😭😭😭

[sus-gabriels-eyes]

"they deyassified maria" "they made maria allergic to serving looks" "maria isn't cunty anymore" are we looking at the same character???

[neverpathia]

okay I felt like writing so off I go

average broken and smitten interaction I guess. my AU. nothing much here, not really, except them being toxic and mutually enabling each others' horrible codependent coping mechanisms. platonic smitbroken. not a ship, keep that in mind.

once AGAIN it's a little OOC because I cannot write broken for the life of me. but hey broken mentioned please give it a shot

pristine cut spoilers

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Do you ever feel...hollow?" A voice, mellow yet deep.

The Broken sat listlessly on the grass, legs resting sideways against each other. Gently, slowly, he leaned down to trace something on the dirt. He wasn't quite sure what it was going to be, though.

The Smitten knelt and clapped him on the back firmly in jest. Broken blinked, eyes wide in mild surprise like a baffled, scraggly kitten.

"Ow," he mumbled.

Smitten ignored the 'ow'. "But surely not! How could I ever allow my soul to remain barren; when her beauty walks the face of this very earth?"

Broken pondered this. "I guess so."

Smitten leaned forward, closer to Broken. "Why do you ask, friend of mine?"

Friend. The others saw him as a friend now, or at least one of them did. Broken didn't know how to feel about that. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die for daring to let someone else actually look at him as if he were a worthy person.

"I don't know." Broken's finger left a trail amidst the dirt; a shallow, curving depression with no particular direction. He smiled. It seemed a little fitting. "I kind of always do. Feel empty, I mean."

As if he hadn't said something like that to the other Voices a billion times.

The Smitten laughed. How was he always so amiable? Where did he find that energy? "Fear not! For she is never far off from us, and her radiance permeates all."

"You say 'she' like there aren't a lot of Princesses walking around now," said Broken.

"Isn't that even better?" said Smitten. "More of my dearest Princess, more love."

Love. The concept that had once felt so familiar, now completely foreign. But something about it was still familiar somehow. Broken didn't know if he understood it, if he could understand.

"You...haven't seen mine, have you?" Broken glanced up, away from his meaningless scribbles.

"Oh, I may not have seen all of her, but I most certainly love every facet of the Princess with all my heart." Smitten's bold voice resonated far too loud.

Broken said nothing and only looked at his stained fingertip.

"I have loved her at her best, and I shall continue to love her at my worst." The Smitten was clearly having fun. "Undaunted I shall trudge, for she is of endless permutation: but each face of hers is pure perfection! Do you not feel the same, my comrade, my kin? You are among the first to show her respect beyond mere camaraderie; to revere her as I do."

Broken didn't know how comfortable he felt about Smitten's words. They sounded a little too close to...something he himself would say, but more flowery and somehow almost worse.

"I loved...love her too." Broken picked at one of his braids with his clean hand. The ribbons embedded inside, the ornaments holding it in place. "One of her."

Smitten raised an eyebrow at him. "And how shall that do? You ought to love all of her!"

"She is above me. She showed me mercy, and I...love her for it." Did he have a choice? Would he have made a choice? "She...You've seen her, haven't you? The one they call The Tower."

"Ah. She who reigns above, is she not? She who dwarfs us all beneath her looming glory."

Broken didn't know how to respond. He hesitated for far too long before he forced the words out. "...I miss her."

"But of course! It's her, after all."

Broken didn't have the heart to tell Smitten that he didn't think he was really listening.

But he didn't like the weight of it all from before, and he wanted to get it off. He needed to get it off. So he went ahead anyway, even if he didn't like it; even if he was going to hate himself forever for speaking those words and thinking those thoughts.

"I don't know. She hurt me. And in one life, I hurt her too. But in another I forgave her. As if I was in a position to, as if I should have done that, as if I was above- as if I was equal- but...she let me. She showed me grace. She..."

The Broken brought his knees close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, huddling into himself, the dirt on his finger smearing across his thigh.

The Smitten tilted his head, loose ringlets shifting across his shoulders. "And why else should she show you grace, if not for her sheer perfection?"

Broken tried to recall what Paranoid and Hero had said. She hurt you. She didn't know you. She wasn't who you thought she was and she never had been. She was...She was...

"I shouldn't love her." Abruptly, he covered his mouth with his hand and averted his eyes. But he continued speaking into his palm, each syllable slow and deliberated. "But I should. But she hurt me, but I hurt her, and I hurt the others too, I should have been hurt, I should have been used, she should have... I don't like this. I miss her. Maybe I shouldn't miss her. But I really miss her. And I don't want to miss her anymore but maybe I should."

"So you question yourself?" The Smitten was growing more wary now. "So you doubt the greatness of your love?"

Broken shook his head. Long lashes brushed across gaunt, cracked cheeks. "I really don't know. Is it right? Am I right to love her? But I don't want to hate her anymore. But I don't want to love her, not when it hurts so much-"

He was silenced by a strong blow across his face. The Smitten had slapped him, fast and hard. Broken cupped his cheek, astonished, reeling against the ringing pain.

"Have you lost your mind?" The Smitten was enraged. "Have you no heart at all? I believed you had always understood. Always, always, you have known! A being of devotion just as I am!"

"Oh..." Unsteadily, Broken looked up at Smitten. "I see."

"You miss her, or so you claim. You yearn for her, do you not? These are the feelings of the heart! Never have they led one astray, ever! You find yourself cherishing her presence. You find that her wrongs cease to be, because they have never mattered! For Princess and Voice were meant to be one. You used to feel like you were hers, and you still are. You love her. We love her. You love her as I do, you love her."

The Smitten stepped backwards after his monologue, heaving slightly, as if it had taken something out of him.

"Believe me." Broken dropped his gaze again. "I wish I did."

Smitten spared him a disdainful glance. "Then you do. Wherein do you unearth such frivolous problems?"

"Smitten, why do you love so much?"

"I was under the impression that you were much the same manner as I. To love is the one true right."

"Is it really the only right thing, or are you just telling yourself that it is?"

"And how could it not be echoed within the halls of my being, were it not such an absolute?"

There was another moment of silence.

"I don't know." Broken rose from the ground and began to stand. "I think you're blind."

"Blind? Blind? Fie! I daresay, the only blind one here is you!"

"I want to believe in love. I do."

"Then so you shall. Nothing stands in our way."

"There's something you're refusing to see, Smitten." Broken met his eyes. "We're separate beings now. Bodies and all. You think of me as a traitor. To love, and to you. You think I'm supposed to be like you, and you're still trying to see yourself in me."

Broken took a long breath before he said, "But I'm not one with you, and we're not the same. Not anymore, not ever. Please...let yourself be."

Smitten didn't reply for once, rendered speechless somehow, though Broken couldn't tell if it was due to anger or shock.

Broken sighed. "Maybe what I thought was love wasn't even real. If I let go of it, could you let go too?"

Smitten clamped his hands around Broken's shoulders, his grip harsh and unyielding.

"Nonsense." A low, raging undercurrent belay Smitten's tone, still orotund and loud as ever. "It was real, and it is real, and nothing can ring ever truer. Harken to your heart, its beatings, it's sensations! Harken to your soul and the very person that you are! Is it not clear, then?"

But then Smitten relaxed his grip on Broken. "I just want the best for you, my friend. I wish for you to be at peace. Why? Why must you choose otherwise?"

And at this brief, unprecedented show of kindness, the Broken was unresponsive at first.

Then it hit. He couldn't help it. He didn't want it. He began to cry.

Small, nearly imperceptible trembles and snivels. Tears gathering at the corners of large blank eyes. Why was he suddenly being nice to him? Why now, after what he had dared to say? After he had made himself a traitor in Smitten's eyes?

"It's not a choice, Smitten," said Broken. "It's what I've always been. Maybe...this is it. I still feel so numb. So tired, from forever. Maybe you're right. Because when I used to love her, it didn't feel so empty anymore. I had something to believe in. I had hope."

So what if the hope was false? It was better than this. It was better than this dark and barren and sad and pathetic thing that was his soul, his body, his entire being. It was at least the illusion of a safe refuge. A sort of escape from what he was and what he had become.

The delusion felt good. Perhaps it was all that mattered.

The Broken spoke between sobs. "How could those moments have been my worst when...they made me feel the best?" He felt the descent of tears down his face; the taste of wet salt on his tongue. It was disgusting. Weak. Pitiful. Like him.

Smitten reached over and patted Broken on the back, and he caved, melting into his friend in a sort of embrace. Too readily, too vulnerably.

"Are we just playing pretend?" Broken whispered, pressed against the frills of Smitten's vest.

"No." The Smitten spoke softer this time, keeping his voice lower. "It cannot be pretend."

Broken let him talk. He'd had enough of the argument.

"When all the fibers of your being are peeled back," Smitten murmured, "love is the only thing left. No, it cannot be pretend, for we cannot help but find them beautiful and what we feel is so profound, so pure. It cannot be pretend because it's who we are and what we were meant to do. Make her happy. You seek it. You desire it."

"I do want to," said Broken.

Smitten smiled. "And she's out there."

"I...do want to, right?"

"You do want to. Your hesitation is a lie, to none else but yourself."

The Broken felt wary and he felt truly seen. He felt uncertain and he felt resolved. He felt terrified and he felt at ease. He wanted to turn away, to return, to relapse. He wanted to love, to obsess, to languish in the comforting cage of those thoughts forever. He wanted to flee, and forget about everything, and never even think about Her again.

Despite everything, after all, the Smitten was still his friend.

Smitten pulled away and tousled Broken's hair. "You poor, poor, misguided soul. Once you saw the light and now you shun it."

Broken wiped his tears with his sleeve. "And it was brighter, wasn't it? And it felt safer...I think..."

"Sit awhile with me, my friend. Mayhaps comfort may be found in the silence yet; a calm to precede a change."

And so they sat on the grass. And so it was still.

And so it was all horribly wrong.

[fuckjohncalvin]

just wanna say. I am very opinionated on many stp characters. and am willing to argue about it. but I think a lot of the ambiguity of the game was intentional. we're meant to draw our own conclusions, because it's about perception, and so actually many people having many differing opinions and experiences is essential to the game. If people didn't, then it wouldn't really have done its job well, would it have?

Anyways, the way I view what's not explicitly stated in canon is the same way I talked about viewing the long quiet and its appearance on an art challenge I made a while ago. it's customized. it's individual. it's unique and different for each person. whatever conclusions you've drawn? they're true. You're right, just like the person who disagrees with you is right.

Because each person had their own experience, met their own princess, narrator, and little voice companions, and each person was their own version of the player character. Each person had their own idea of what it was to be the long quiet, of how we're supposed to relate to the shifting mound, and of the morality and implications of the narrator's quest for an immortal world. Each of us built our own story, and to say someone is objectively wrong about their separate and different story is nonsensical. To say that you have to be right about a vague philosophical concept that isn't clarified in the game itself feels controlling.

We're all free to draw up our own headcanons or implications or aftermath scenarios, and whatever you dream up? Yeah, it's what happened. To your Long Quiet. In your play through.

I know this is probably hypocritical because of how often I argue about stuff, but I think we should all be free to have our own thoughts and ideas. I just really enjoy expressing mine, even if I need to get better at clarifying that I don't think my idea is mutually exclusive with someone else's.

In other words, your opinion is your opinion. Don't let people give you shit about the story that you created, it's just as good as anyone else's. You created a beautiful story, and it's yours, so don't let other people tell you how to read it.