#bear witness to the fucking downward spiral i guess

[stardustandash]

with twitter going down and irl friends migrating back to here its time to face the facts that they’re all going to see how unhinged I’ve gotten while they’ve been away

[jimlingss]

Moirai [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

➜ Words: 2.9k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

What the fuck.   Those three words encircle your brain as you’re drowned in darkness, body jolting while the wagon shakes violently down the rickety path full of rocks and holes.   Bounded and blindfolded, you shift around until you can feel the wall and you use the remaining strength in your body to sit upright. Whoever kidnapped you clearly wasn’t the brightest when they decided to tie your wrists together in front of you. With just a bend of your elbows, you’re able to tear the blindfold off of your eyes and spit out the cloth in your mouth.    It takes a second for your vision to focus.   It’s difficult to see in the dark, but you’re able to make out the wooden walls around you and the hay underneath your form. You figure out that you’re in the back of a windowless wagon, heading to god knows where.   You can’t believe this. You can’t begin to fathom how something like this could happen. But there’s no point in banging your head on the ground and screaming.   You struggle with the tight ropes tied around your wrists and ankles, jaw clenching as it burns into your skin further. It seems like they coiled it around your limbs a hundred times and each moment your fingertips can graze one of the many knots, your fingers become more numb.    But you don’t want to admit that your attempt is futile. That every movement only exacerbates the pain. You don’t want to acknowledge that your effort is only making it harder for yourself.    “Fuck!”   The wheel of the wagon crashes through a rock. The entire wagon angrily tilts. You slam back onto the hard ground.    Tears sting your eyes and you grit your teeth.   In the original game, it was the heroine who was kidnapped. It was a scheme set up by Anastasia. But it’s obvious that you’ve taken her place, that a mistake was made, based on the threat they muttered to you.   You don’t know who could’ve done this, who would have such animosity towards her. But you suspect it’s your own parents. If so, it’s a great irony that their own daughter got kidnapped instead.   Karma’s a bitch.   You just don’t know why you have to suffer the consequences for it.   “This gold’ll last me a lifetime!” there’s muffled voices through the other end of the wagon, no doubt the perpetrators on the other side.   “And she’ll sell for a pretty penny!”   Chortling laughter grates against your ears.   You remember it was also in the original game that the heroine was rescued by whoever her love interest is. But you don’t have a love interest. Most certainly Jungkook won’t be the hero and save you, not when Lucy reassured him that you chose to head to your bedroom early.   No one’s coming for you.   No one.   Inside the wagon, you are an island. Or rather, it has always been that way. From the very start, you have been alone. Deserted. Fighting for yourself and fighting to survive the next day. You are a villainess self-turned into a side character without a redemption arc or a beautiful story.    Not only are you weighed down with your burdens, but you bear them by yourself.   Tears bite at your eyes, the temptation to succumb to your despair overwhelming.   But before the thick darkness can consume you whole, you force yourself upwards once more. Once more, you gain your balance. Once more, you attempt to undo your binds.   Once more.   And by your teeth biting into the rope, you manage to pull at a loose knot. Then, one by one, it starts to untangle, rope plunging downwards, and you yank your hands free. Your wrists burn, rough to the touch. But you don’t dwell when you begin to frantically unravel the binds around your ankle.    You rush towards the door once you’re free and throw them open.   The wagon is rapidly moving, the horses attached are practically sprinting through the open forest. Every pebble in sight only lasts for a second before it’s gone in the distance. You grasp onto the edge, knowing you need to jump. You need to. You—   Can’t.   At that exact same moment, the left wheel is knocked into a hole in the dirt road. The wagon jolts violently again and you accidentally stumble forward with a sharp inhale. You brace yourself, eyes shut tight, ready to collide with the ground.   But the impact never comes.   Instead, you open your eyes to find brown irises gazing into yours.   “I’m so glad I came in time.” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth upturns. He’s out of breath, levitating in mid-air with you in his arms.   You grasp onto him with tight fists, still shaking.   The footman in front notices the noises, slows down and peeks over the wagon. “Hey!”   Taehyung sets you down on the ground. “Don’t look,” he says in a low timbre as if asking you to promise him.   You swallow hard and shut your eyes tight. Taehyung brushes past you.   You hear the footman and another yelling. And then they’re apologizing. There’s the crunch of leaves, a shout, a crack of bones that startles you, and thunder booming in the distance.    “Who did this?!” Taehyung’s ear splitting voice makes you flinch. You’ve never witnessed him this angry before. “Was it the King?! It was him, wasn’t it?!”   You turn around with your head down. You run towards him. There’s blood seeping through the dirt on the ground, but you don’t give it attention to it as you grab a hold of Taehyung’s arm.   “Stop it.” There’s a long pause and you repeat yourself. “Stop.”   A body drops in front of you and when you lift your eyes, Taehyung engulfs you in a hug.   You’re overtaken by his frame, his warmth keeping the cold away and for once, you give into the temptation. Your lashes flutter as your eyes close and you hug him back.    You allow yourself to savour the moment.   //   The palace awakens past midnight.   Barely after the feast has come to a halt, a guard with his sword by his side enters the throne room and strides down the aisle towards the King who was entertaining guests a minute ago.   “Your Majesty.” The guard bows. “Prince Taehyung is missing.”   “What?” A fist slams down on the armrest. The King’s face is reddened, wrinkles deepening as he scours his mind at where that boy could be, what he could be scheming. “Does anyone know?”   “No, Your Majesty. A guard of the Western tower found him missing and reported it. Only the guards and a few maids are aware.”   “Then search immediately! Report what you find!”   Several guards respond and rush out of the room.    At the same time, a maid stands at the doorway with her eyes wide in fear. She hesitates, then cuts through the crowd in the opposite direction, fighting against the current of men. “Y-Your Majesty.” She bows her head at the end of the steps leading up to the throne.    “What is it?”   “Lady….Lady Anastasia is missing as well.”   The King is taken aback, not sure how the castle can be so chaotic at this hour, how it can spiral out of control so quickly after the festivities. He deems himself negligent. “Have you searched the rooms?”   She nods. “We’ve looked everywhere, Your Majesty. No one’s seen her ladyship since the feast.”   The King sits back, brows furrowed deep enough to hurt. It can’t be a coincidenc—   A guard swiftly enters the room. “Your Majesty, they’ve returned.”   There are whispers throughout the palace. Those who are still awake at this hour murmur under their breaths, taking second glances, knights and maids, servants and guards alike. They speak of rumours that are sure to be spread when morning comes. But the two of you don’t pay mind.   Taehyung’s cape is wrapped around your shoulders, you squeeze his hand and approach together.   You don’t know why you thought this would be simple. That you could just slip into your room, into bed and try to stop shaking by yourself. You were gone for far too long to do such a thing. There are too many eyes around, too many who notice when a single hair is amiss. The moment you came back, they told you to meet the King.   “What is the reason for your absence?” His eyes scrutinize the both of you as if you were on a scandalous endeavour — the Prince’s fiancée and the bastard son, a pair that would sure ruin the reputation of the entire empire. You don’t even have time to think how far you’re deviating from the original story.   “Your Majesty, I was kidnapped,” you confess in a loud voice and the maid standing by gasps. She covers her mouth abruptly the moment it happens and retreats into the side.   The King’s eyes dart to her and heavy silence boils throughout the room.   You look at the man beside you, his fingers still twined through yours for reasons you’re not sure you want to divulge. “It was His Highness Taehyung who noticed something suspicious and came to rescue me. The perpetrators ran, but I’m safe thanks to him.”   You can tell the few people in the room are surprised Taehyung has the capabilities to save you. And that he did. A courageous act that is sure to gain reward.   The King makes a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. “I will find the people responsible for daring to threaten the next Crown Princess.”   As if the throne hall was not full of nosy people already, the Duke and Duchess enter with frenzied expressions. It’s unsettling to see them feigning concern. If anything, you’re guessing they’re simmering with anger that their men captured the wrong girl.    But it still doesn’t stop your mother from coming to look at you, grasping onto your arm while your father addresses the King, “Your Majesty. We heard the news a moment ago and—”   “No need for the formalities, Herrick.” He smiles cordially. “You should take your daughter to rest. We can discuss this matter at a better hour.”   He nods and they both usher you out with a parade of servants. But you don’t miss the chance to peek over at your shoulder to look at Taehyung’s form until you have to turn the corner.   You stay silent as you lead them into your room.   The doors shut, servants outside for the time being and you turn to face your parents. “You did this….didn’t you?”   Your mother’s expression is cold and impassive. “Excuse me?”   “Can’t you be honest with me?” you plead from them, desperation leaking into your tone. You ache for their sincerity, for their compassion. “I know they captured the wrong person and I know the only people who would want to harm the baron’s daughter are the both of you. You probably thought she was in my way—”   “You’re tired, Anastasia.” Your mother waves you off. “You should rest.”   “What happens if the King investigates and this leads back to the Devereux house?” Your voice never wavers, feet rooted into the ground. You know they’ll make sure it never traces back to them. But they’ve gone quiet once you’ve mentioned the title they’ve risked. Your father’s frown is unmistakable and your mother doesn’t look at you. “Don’t do things like this anymore. Please.”   The two of them look at one another with faces you can’t decipher.   You’ve never asked for many things from them before. But this time, you’re begging.   There’s a knock on the door and Jungkook enters a second later. He doesn’t notice the tension in the room, the stiff atmosphere that’s put you on the verge of tears. “Anastasia!” He comes to your side, scanning you up and down and your parents take their leave to give you privacy, probably with the hope that this incident will drive you and Jungkook closer together.   “I’m alright,” you lie and sit down shakingly on the edge of your bed.    Even with the horrors of your reality, you can’t help but wonder what’s going on with Taehyung.   //   Across the castle, the throne room empties.   Everyone’s attending to the Crown Prince’s fiancée after all and an incident like this won’t be taken lightly. It’s a threat to the royal family, something Taehyung knows most about since he’s the embodiment of one.   Taehyung turns away. “If I can be excused.”   He doesn’t expect a reward, acknowledgment, recognition. He didn’t come to you for those things, but the King would never offer it to him anyway. He’s the bastard son. The shame of the family.   And yet, he can’t even leave in peace.   “I know what you’re doing,” the King speaks up in a low tone, a warning.   The dark-haired man halts-mid step, his brows furrowed in puzzlement.   The King’s wiry lips upturn but the smile never reaches his old eyes. “You’re trying to undermine the royal family and take the crown for yourself. First by taking your brother’s fiancée and then gaining the acceptance of the people. Winning the Hunt was only the first step, wasn’t it? I’ve underestimated you, boy. But I’m not blind to greed.”   “No.” Taehyung turns on his heel to look at his so-called father. “You’re blind to benevolence. You don’t understand how someone could be motivated by something other than power.”   “What is it that you want then?” he challenges him. “If not to take the throne for yourself.”   Taehyung walks away. “I want the one thing I could never have.” 

The flower petal is plucked.   It’s pulled from its center and flutters in a downwards spiral, dusting the grass in a blushing hue.   “Are you okay, Anastasia?” Lucy leans in close, her murmur full of concern and you muster a nod as you continue to pluck flower petals. Instead of a game of he loves me, he loves me not, it’s I’ll live, I’ll die.    “I knew I should’ve come with you. I was so worried. To think that….that something like that would happen.”   You wonder what she would think if she knew that you took her place. That she was the one who was supposed to be taken out in the open in the middle of the night like that. That the both of you traded positions.   But she isn’t the one to blame. “It’s not your fault.”   “Lady Anastasia...”   “You didn’t know something like that would happen.” You muster a smile. “I was the one who told you to go back, right?”   Gossip about the incident has spread through the palace and past its walls, especially the fact that Taehyung was the saviour. He rescued you, saved your life. He was the one who came after you when you were confident no one else would.   How could someone like that be the villain?   You don’t understand. No one does.   In the original game, Taehyung instigated a civil war and in one of the final scenes, he dies by his brother’s sword as the heroine he had fallen in love with stands by his brother’s side. The last thing he says is her name before he crumbles on his knees. A death that only brings celebration to the empire.   It’s as tragic as your ending.   You wonder if such a thing is going to happen in the near future. You wonder if it’s possible you could avoid his bad ending as well as your own. But you don’t know if you can prevent Taehyung from committing his crimes. You don’t know if his hatred and jealousy will ruin him.   The pit of your stomach stirs uncomfortably at the thought.   He’s done so much for you. He’s saved your life. He shouldn’t succumb to his darkness.   You owe him at least that much.   “Lucy.” You snap back to attention, turning to the girl who’s been keeping you company all afternoon by her own accord. “What do you think of Taehyung?”   You saw her earlier talking to Jungkook in the open corridor. It looked like they ran into one another on accident, but while you couldn’t hear what their conversation was about, it seemed intimate. Or at least, you’ve never seen Jungkook look so delighted and shy at the same time.   Usually, you’d watch from afar. Admire the scene at a distance.   But you’re not sure what to think of it anymore.   “His Highness?” She blinks and admits, “I’ve only held one conversation with him before. But he seems very kind.”   “He is.” For some reason, your smile can’t reach your eyes. “You should speak to him more. He would be a good match for you.”   The girl is caught off guard by your bluntness and blushes while looking away. “I-I would never dare to dream of marrying into the royal family. I’m already honoured to be your friend, Anastasia.”   Your arm extends and you clasp your hand on top of her’s that’s within her lap. “Then think of it as a favour you’re doing for me.”   Lucy meets your eyes with a frown, unable to understand why you’re oddly persistent.   But she doesn’t know that the only route to save Taehyung is through the heroine, albeit she will suffer the most and it’s the hardest path to take. Instead of being with Jungkook, it’s possible she can end up with Taehyung. But only she has the capabilities to save him, just like the game.   You look down to your ground that’s filled with the remains of the flowers you ruined.   It’s just like the villainess to have to destroy everything she touches.

[blodreina-noumou]

Salt ask 22 please, for the 100

Thank you, anon! Sorry I left this sitting for so long.

22. Popular character you hate?

It’s hard out here for those of us who are so completely beyond done with the main characters of this show - Clarke and Bellamy. 

I just don’t care about them anymore - I oscillate between indifference and irritation.

The short reason? There are more interesting characters with better, more consistent arcs, more compelling dynamics, and more engaging storylines. I just don’t really care that much about what happens to Clarke or Bellamy, not anymore. Their stories have both been so overwrought with grief and trauma and betrayal that they don’t even feel like characters to me anymore - just plot devices. And that’s not even getting into my general grumpiness around Be//arke.

The longer reasons, by character, if you wanna dehydrate yourself on my saltiness:

Clarke Griffin

Clarke starts out with so much potential, and I really think the first two seasons are some of the best parts of the story, largely due to her. She has the most agency in s1 and s2. Her downward spiral into genocide and authoritarianism is actually quite compelling the first time we witness it. 

It’s when Clarke takes on the Wanheda mantle that I honestly start just wishing she would go take a nap somewhere, and let other people be in charge. She consistently fucks shit up, makes a thousand mistakes, and, contrary to what she says in 2x16, it starts to feel like she’s no longer doing the best she can. 

That spiral just goes and goes in s4 - and then, in s5, her entire world becomes about one little girl, which makes her the most selfish character on the show. It’s an uncomfortable about-face. But somehow, I don’t really get the impression that the show wants us to view her as an antihero, even still. She’s still “the good guy” - we’re still supposed to feel for her, to root for her. 

And while I do still feel for her (I’m not made of stone) I definitely don’t find myself rooting for her very often anymore.

Bellamy Blake

Conversely, I hated Bellamy at the beginning of this show. The way he bosses Octavia around, going all Redpilled Alpha Male and stringing Atom up in a tree is just the first moment where he lands on my bad side. In my opinion, there isn’t much that’s worthwhile in the first two seasons for him. He’s a grade-A asshole, figures out that’s gonna get more people killed than he can bear on his conscience, and then becomes an obedient soldier boy. That’s not interesting to me. 

Then, in s3, he goes full authoritarianism, even when the people he knows and loves are like, “Dude. Vibe check.” He’s slightly more palatable in s3b, but I really hate that it took getting Lincoln killed and Octavia beating the absolute shit out of him for that shift to happen.

S4, he’s basically back to his s2 self - obedient soldier boy, captain of his squad. Nothing special, not to me. The most compelling parts of his arc always involve Octavia.

Things shift for me a bit in s5, because I really loved Spacekru, and I think s5 Bellamy is the best version of himself in a lot of ways. Despite the way he and Octavia fight, he’s at least still coming from a compassionate place, and his transition from hot-headed soldier to bearded patriarch was well-done. But then, s6 happens. I cannot forgive him for leaving Octavia to die. I cannot forgive him for refusing to even try to understand her side of things, for how vitriolic he was towards her from the moment he wakes up. I think he owes her a serious apology, and I know we’ll never get it. 

So I’m pretty much done with Mr. Blake at this point.

I recognize a lot of people would’ve given up on this show, after losing interest so drastically in the two leading characters. I guess that’s testament to the love I have for characters like Octavia, Murphy, Emori, and Raven. I’m in it now to see what happens to them. The rest is filler.

[suulphr]

CLOSED OR CLOSE PAST 2 OR 200 FROM 90DEGREES OR A PEICE OF PAPER TELLING TALL STORIES FOR SHORT-LIVED TIMES, YOU CAN’T JUMP ME ANY WITCH WAY OR BACK ROAD BLOOD FROM TUESDAY OR NEXT TUESDAY IS THE END OF A LONG HELD-IN-PLACE-BY-WEIGHTVSWORTH-SYSTEM OR THAT YUG IN HINDI MEANS THE ERA AND KALI IS THE GODDESS OF DEATH BUT IN INDONESIAN KALI MEANS TIME AND THE PAST IS DYING SLOWLY AND UNSURE.

PAST CAST A SHADOW 10 FEET AWAY FROM YESTERDAY OR WALKING BEFORE THE SUN COMES OUT

YOU CHIME SOMEWHERE AND A BUILDING KNOCKS BACKWARD DOWNWARD FALLING FROM 50 YEARS AGO BUT YOU ARE LOOKING AT IT NOW ON THE GROUND

EYE-LEVEL

POURING TIME CLOCKED OR A TEMPTING SPIN OR SPIRAL OR SOMETHING HIDDEN THAT GETS LABELLED A PRIZE

OR A RIP IN THE TIME-LINE CURSING MIS UNINTERPRETED OR CLOSING A RIPPED SEEM OR A WOUND GUSHING CLEAN AND THEN UNCLEAN

WHAT MUST IT BE

PLIEADIAN LIGHT FORCE TRANSMISSION OR BACKWARDS LOOSE TONGUE A HUNGRY LION EATING AWAY IMAGINED HYSTERIA OR DISEASE

IT DOESNT MATTER FOR THE LABEL

DISAPPEARED THROUGH GROVES AND MIMICKED BEAR TRAPS COATED THE WAY THE LEAVES COAT THE GROUND

CLOAKED MASS-CONFUSION AND BATTERED TIMES OR TIMES BEATEN TO AN IDEA OF SOMEWHERE ELSE OR ITS RIGHT ABOVE YOUR HEAD

SONAR CAT-CALL A MICE-BITTEN SCRATCHING DUMB CLAWS OUT OF PLACE ON THE WALL KEEPING CONTAMINATED ABOLISHED TIME-ZONES EATEN AWAY BY GREED BACK AND BACK TO WHEN IT COLLAPSED FROM THE ICE-PICKING SCRATCH MARKS TAIL-SCREECHING A SONG QUIET

LOOKING FOR A WAY OUT

BRICK HOUSES HOISTED 10’s and 100’s OF LOOSE SEPARATED MILES OR CALLING CARD PHONE POST MISSING WIRE OR MISSED TURN

LACK OF DIRECTION

STOP LOOKING.

DREAMSCAPE FIRED STONE-COLD AND UNMOVING, JUST WAITING

AND ISN’T THAT WHAT VULTURES DO

USE UNTIL IT IS USELESS TO THEIR ACIDIC NATURE

BECOME PICKLED UNDER MORNING LIGHT FROM TOO-PIN-POINTED OF AN ANGLE OR BLEEDING STRAIGHT THROUGH TO THE OTHERSIDE OF THE BONE SCRAPED MOUTHPIECE FAUX-TALKING EXPENSIVE SECOND-GUESSES AND SCRAPS, PUSHING PAST AS IF NOTHING IS THERE.

STOP LOOKING.

22 SHROUDED MISFIRED CHILDREN RETELLING RUMORS AND MAKING A PRETTY PENNY FROM THE HOSPITAL BILLS.

BURNED OR UNBURNED SCALPELS AND STITCHED BACK TOGETHER AGAIN OR GRAFTS OR DEFENSE MARKS

BEATEN AND BITTEN AND CAUGHT COLD AND FAR RED

RAN THE LIGHT DIDN’T STOP OR PULL BACK BUT SLOWED SLUG-SNEAKING OLD-TIMED-CARRIAGE BACK TO THE INSIDE JUST TO U-TURN AFTER MY FLIPPED LITTLE FINGER LIKE HOW MUCH MORE USELESS COULD A PERSON BE AND WHY ARE YOU HIDING YOUR EYES FROM ME IF I DON’T CARE WHAT FUCKING COLOR THEY ARE.

AND THEN EVEN THE WOMEN I ADMIRE STILL STARE BLANKLY AFRAID OR TIRED WHEN THERE IS NOT ENOUGH TIME TO EXPLAIN

AND EVEN THAT IS BUYING A PATCHED-WORKED BUT FUNCTIONLESS PATRIARCHS’ PHILOSOPHY OF EFFICIENCY OR REPRODUCTION.

STOP LOOKING.

HOW MANY SEPARATE SITUATIONS DO WHITE MEN HAVE TO WITNESS IN A LOCKED WHITE ROOM TO BE ABLE TO PROVE SOMETHING TO THEMSELVES THAT HAS BEEN REITERATED AND CAPTURED ON BODY CAMERAS TOO MANY TIMES TO BE COINCIDENCE?

HOW MANY SHREDDED DOCUMENTS AND YOUNG BODIES BURNED OR BURIED BEHIND ABANDONED BUILDINGS.

THERE IS NO QUESTION MARK BECAUSE I WONT WANT TO KNOW,

I ONLY WANT TO KNOW WHO DID IT.

THEY ARE LOCKED IN A MINDLESS CAGE OF FLESH THAT DOES NOT BOW TO ANY WILL BUT THE TIDE AND THE MOON AND THEY HACK AND BURN AND TWIST AND LIE AND SPIT NONSENSE UNTIL IT EATS A HOLE THROUGH THE LAST PART OF THEM THAT WANTED TO KEEP GOING.

STOP LOOKING.

KEEP TWISTING A CYCLE UNTIL THE ENDING EATS AWAY THE BEDROCK.

WALK ONE UNDEAD “FOOT” RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER STRAIGHT INTO THE OCEAN AND DON’T STOP UNTIL YOU FIND ATLANTIS SPREAD OVER MILES OF THE SEAFLOOR, PUSHED DIRECTIONLESS AND CHAOS-CLOSE AGAINST CORAL REEFS.

STOP LOOKING UNLESS YOU CAN BREATHE THE SALT UNCLEANED FROM ROARING-FOAM TRAPPING AND UNDER-TOW BACKWARDS FROM 6000 DEGREES OR YEARS OR MILES OR TRAINS OR CAPTURED CROWS AND BLEEDING VULTURES ADORNED IN PROTRUDING SPIKED BONES.