#but the entire day our mood was rotten about this

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

so i never said this to anyone and bottling this up is exhausting so i'm just gonna vomit it here. PLEASE SENSITIZE CHILDREN TO ART.

[chastiefoul]

roomate hc with haitham and kaveh!! (except they spoil you rotten)

tags: fluff and more fluff as you dig deeper

a/n: i love this idea sm that i wanted to make it some kind of a series lmk your thoughts!! also not proofread!!

0.6k words! »

alhaitham waking up with the cutest bed hair as he went out from his room to sit on the living room, and you walked up to him to comb over it from behind as he sat in a daze blinking away the sleep although the comfort of your hand almost made him dozed off again.

lying down on kaveh’s lap or vice versa as you tell him about your day and he told his, somehow you both were always in the best mood so it could took hours, with all the laughing and giggles.

watching movies as you three cramped down on a couch with you in the middle. and somehow they always fell asleep mid-way instead on either side of you forcing you to sleep there as well since there’s no way you had the energy to move two grown ass man. but somehow the next morning you always found yourself waking up in your own room, tucked in with your blanket and all that.

playing with kaveh’s hair all the time; braiding it when he’s so focused on making his latest project, putting it on a pony tail as it often get in the way. sometimes he’ll even ask you to style it when he was getting ready to go out.

clothes. stealing. “(y/n), have you seen my white shirt anywhere?” alhaitham asked as he walked to your room, “yes, i’m wearing it right now!” you said. he just sighed, not even surprised in the slightest. yet he let you all the time. or sometimes it’s not even clothes anymore. you’d find your blanket you’ve been searching for with kaveh randomly. “you smell nice, okay?” he made an excuse. “this entire household uses the same detergent, kaveh.”

when you hover around the kitchen, in an attempt to make dinner and not long after both of them came and would offer help without any prompting whatsoever. the help was in fact an exchange for a peaceful time since alhaitham and kaveh would argue about the better method to do literally anything. you’d let out the most terrifying sigh, that’s somehow always audible to both of them  then went to stare them dead in the eye. “behave.” you narrowed our eyes. “yes (y/n).”

getting ready to go out at night for a quick trip to buy a snack and they would never let you a step out of the door alone. “i’m going out for a bit, okay?” you said as you put on a jacket. “sure.” “alright.” and then they got up from whatever they were doing as they grab their coat. “but i didn’t-“ kaveh didn’t let you finish as he grab your arm, pulling you out of the house as alhaitham locked the door behind him.

reading with alhaitham. though the contents of your books maybe very different you both just enjoyed the shared quiet time. sometimes one of you would prepare a coffee or tea for the other without even needing to ask. sometimes you’d lean on his side, to try to find a better reading position and he just welcome you as he chuckled a little at your restlessness.

you literally being the only one who gets a pass giving them an unprompted sudden hug just because you wanted to. alhaitham would knew that you’re up to no good by your mischievous smile. “what?” he asked in suspicion, and you just hugged him. alhaitham didn’t react strongly as he had expected this was one of many outcome from your actions. his blank expression broke into a the slightest smile as he gently pat your head. “there are better ways to ask for this, don’t you think?” he said with the softest tone you couldn’t help but melt. with kaveh he just returned the hug just as enthusiastically, practically squeezing you—although not to an extent that it would hurt. his hands would meet at your back, giving you back scratches and the most comfortable hug someone could give. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you could hear the smile as he said it. “mhhmm.” you hummed, as you closed your eyes.

[is-this-yuri]

have you been doomscrolling? feeling awful about it? do you feel out of control? does it seem your autonomy has been swallowed by the ever present beast that is the internet?

we live in the most overwhelmingly stimulating age of humanity ever seen, and it's only getting worse. our brains are sponges, soaking up whatever we smear them across, and it seems more and more difficult to find a clean surface to rest on. i'm no expert or professional, but ive been born and raised into the internet, and i'd like to hand out some wisdom regarding this.

the main issue: brain poison

since the brain absorbs whatever it's exposed to, media consumption is unsurprisingly going to effect it. the type of media, the amount of media, and the frequency of the media all play a factor.

it's not the internet itself that's bad here. it's the media on the internet, and the platforms designed to suck in our attention and keep it there until we're rotting inside our skulls.

we're never going to escape the internet. it's just a fact of life now, and a tool that can be used for wonderful things. so how do we learn to live with the internet and take advantage of its potential?

treat it like a dietary balance

staying aware of what goes in your brain is just as important as being aware of what you're eating. if you eat carelessly, don't listen to how your body feels after you eat certain things, and ignore any sickness that might result from rotten food, you're going to have a bad time and wreck your guts. the same goes for the brain.

you want to have a good mix of various types of media in the right amounts, or approximately so. if things are feeling bland, maybe diversify. if things are feeling stupid, try something more intellectual. if it's feeling too much, cut back on all of it

the following are three things you can do to maintain a sense of control and awareness over your media diet. this isnt a step by step and is in no particular order, theyre just ideas to carry forward in general any time it could be helpful.

1. digest

this is the process of thinking about and remembering what youve done throughout your time on the internet. it could apply to any period of time. so you might think, 'man, i've done nothing but watch tiktok all day.' or 'i've been scrolling twitter a lot more this past week.'

i feel like most people already do this to some extent, but it manifests as a fleeting sense of anxiety or shame that doesn't lead anywhere. analyze that feeling, and ask if it's really true or helpful.

ask if your media consumption is making you feel less focused, distracted, putting you into a brain fog, making you fall asleep when you don't want to, making you irritable and angry, drawing you into arguments, keeping you awake at night, or upsetting/disrupting you in any way.

digestion also means appreciating the good stuff and recognizing the good feelings you get too. so also ask if it's enriching you, helping you learn something new, giving you a new perspective, exposing you to something beautiful, passing the time, relaxing you, honing your focus, or generally lifting your mood.

2. cut

cut certain types of content from your life once you've decided they're not good for your media diet. block people. move on. tell youtube to stop reccomending that channel. block them. unfollow people. unfollow tags. block the tags. blacklist things. do it. forget the awful things that make your brain hurty. click the block button. uninstall the app. you know you want to

consider removing yourself entirely from websites that are designed to be attention predators. if you consistently feel like youre 'stuck' on a site and cant leave, it's probably best to just delete your account and get out of there. tiktok is NOTORIOUS for this.

i also tend to keep my following or subscribed count low. keeping the stream of content short forces me to find other things to do with my time. this goes hand in hand with things like turning off infinite scroll. it provides an 'end point' where the repetitive action of scrolling down stops bearing fruit, breaking the doomscrolling cycle. the internet is almost an infinite place, and its up to you to build walls around yourself so you arent lost in it forever.

its also important to get off the internet in general sometimes. i know this is obvious, but literally touch grass on occasion. doing anything with your physical body away from the screen will be more enriching than sitting there scrolling for hours. whether it's just a 5 minute walk around your house to stretch your legs or a 6 hour hike every weekend, part of cutting media will mean replacing it with real life. looking at some plants, doing a pushup, or working on a knitting project can be like rinsing your brain sponge under some cold, clean water.

3. curate

the flip side of cutting is curating. you'll want to be looking for media that makes you happy and feels productive or meaningful in some way. anything that not only doesnt make you feel like you wasted your time, but specifically makes you feel like you spent your time well, is a green flag.

keep in mind entertainment just for entertainment's sake is good for you too. you don't have to be watching university lectures and tutorials and stuff all day. finding high quality entertainment, such as personalities you enjoy, good production values, and inventive ideas can be really difficult. find the people who dont make you feel like a cocomelon baby and stick with them. from there you should be able to find similar content.

what's good for your soul is going to depend very much on you as an individual. this is also going to be an ongoing process as not only you but the internet both change and evolve. the important thing about this step is that you Make Decisions about what to consume. even bad decisions! it's all part of the process, and it's all about reclaiming your autonomy.

4. eat your junk food

this isn't a military drill or an exact science. i'm just a guy on tumblr with an intimate connection to his own brain and a LOT of time on the internet. that's my only credential. sometimes i want to turn that brain off and just mindlessly consume without putting any thought into what dirty dishwater is soaking into my sponge. sometimes adhd brain wants me to watch a shitty B movie in recap form so i dont have to commit to a full movie. sometimes i get stuck in the youtube shorts for like 3 hours.

that's fine. the most important part of any kind of self care is that a little bit is better than nothing. even just being aware that youre consuming something bad for you and knowing you arent ready to stop just yet is better than nothing.

thats it!!

now you should be prepared to take back some control over your media consumption. be gentle with yourself and take your time. eventually this stuff will become second nature, and you'll be effortlessly digesting, curating, and cutting media like it's just part of your personality. remember YOU have control over what the internet thinks you want to see. dont let it force feed you nasty slop anymore. let it be a reflection of your mind, not the other way around.

and good luck!

[punkpandapatrixk]

The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

[mylivejournalsucks]

Bottleneck.

I went to Minneapolis for work: the birthplace of Brenda and Brandon Walsh, the city where Mavis from Young Adult calls home. I was being interviewed at a college in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I do college talks as often as they'll have me. To be frank, the money is good. I think back to all the colleges I visited back in my Thought Catalog days—Princeton, Yale, UCLA, McGill, Emerson, University of Vermont—when I didn't have an agent and students would ask me what my quote was.

"Um, just pay for my flight and hotel? IDC!" I said.

One time I gathered up the courage to ask for $500. Now I know I could've made more than my yearly salary.

But it's not about the money. Not entirely. I've realized, especially in recent years, that I love dedicating chunks of time to things that have nothing to do with my Real Life. Getting flown to a city I would never go to ordinarily, researching restaurants, eating the local cuisine (aka going on Grindr) feeling beholden to no one, getting to talk to a group of kids who've been spent the last few years living primarily with Ideas, it's heaven. It feels luxurious, like a nibble of dark chocolate before bed. Sometimes I think if I could live the bulk of my life as a bottle episode—nothing of story consequence, could stand on its own or be cut for time—I would. Bottle episodes are typically the strongest, anyway. They don't have to be bogged down with exposition or serialization. They can just exist and show off the good bones of a TV show.

As you get older, it's harder to just exist. Suddenly everything has consequence, everything is connected. We've designed our lives to to be constantly building, building, building. Go here to get there.

When I'm in these random cities, I'm going fucking nowhere. I'm laying in my hotel bed, AC blasting, watching episodes of Chopped at 1am, my jet-lagged face lit up by my laptop. I'm Googling "Best coffee in Minneapolis" I'm drinking the best coffee in Minneapolis (really good, tbh) I'm working out in the hotel gym with the other mentally ill freaks who can't go three days without exercise endorphins, I'm thinking about going to this museum everyone is raving about while knowing full well I am never going to go, I'm answering an email or two, I'm accidentally getting a huge chunk of writing done—writing that would've taken me a week in Los Angeles—because nobody knows me here, nothing is expected of me. I have nowhere to be. I am really horny all of the time. Hotels put you in that frame of mind. The bed says: "Why are you not having sex with a stranger on me? That's what I'm here for." And then sometimes I do have sex with a stranger. If it's good, the place I'm visiting will suddenly feel like home. Now that I've had a local's penis inside of me, I get why people live here. If it's bad, the limits of the bottle episode will be tested when I fly back in a rotten mood.

Does my enjoyment of these "work trips" belie a larger dissatisfaction with my real life? Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck off.

A state of unease has settled on my chosen city, Los Angeles. The industry I work in is like a weather forecast. And just like the real weather, there's been an inordinate amount of rain. Something's not right. (actual weather: Climate change, Hollywood: Monopoly is being adapted into a movie.) No one knows how to fix it. When will the person in charge come back? Wait. You're telling me there was never a person in charge? Oh no.

Of course, my ego requires me to say I am one of the lucky ones in that I currently, as of this writing, have a job. But even in bustling times, a writer feels insecure. Being prosperous means knowing what the next six months of your life looks like. That's it. And then it's back to planting those seeds knowing most won't bear any fruit. (I spend three days in the Midwest and I'm trying out farming metaphors.)

When I am in these cities or small towns, I am there for a job, which means I know money is coming in. And anything happening back in Los Angeles is none of my goddamn business. Until it has to be.

These cities I visit are full of ambitious people but I project so much on to them. They've chosen to live in cities with affordable housing and James Beard award-winning restaurants. Any unease they feel comes from within and not from watching the Hollywood stock market, otherwise known as the trades. Their lives belong to them whereas I don't know if mine totally does. There's so much powerlessness that comes with my profession. What if a network that is paying my mortgage merges with a Sbarro's tomorrow and, poof, no more job? I wish I were joking but the only comedy getting made right now is Real Life, streaming everywhere.

I want to figure out how to live life more like a bottle episode. How can I take this back to Los Angeles without becoming irresponsible? I don't want a different life. I just want my life to stop feeling different. I want things to go back to "normal" which, for Hollywood, is still crazy but, like, I'm not scared of Sbarro's taking my job.

I am a cynical optimist. Everything is cyclical. It will land somewhere. But, in the meantime, how do you stay inspired when you are told everybody is looking for things that are "safe" which is code for "nothing that comes out of your faggot gimp brain?" How am I supposed to feel when I see my business chasing after IP no one gives a shit about and spending $200 million because they can only conceive of teeny tiny or big bang boom? Baby Reindeer is one of the most popular TV shows right now. I haven't seen it yet but it's a show with no stars (no offense!) and no action figures. Just people trying to figure out less painful ways to be alive, like all the best kind of art explores. It reminds me of Fleabag's success. When your premise is simple, you can be complex. And, yet, I feel like the wrong lesson will be metabolized. "Stalkers! Let's reboot the movie Disclosure, even though no one watched it the first time!"

The thing is, we're all miserable living under these mandates. And, yet, we made the rules. If only someone would just realize no one is coming to save us. We have to save ourselves.

Anyway, my favorite bottle episode is Girls, season two, episode five "One Man's Trash." A show everyone is rediscovering but probably wouldn't get made today for reasons that are made up and nobody understands or agrees with.

[latenightcinephile]

Film #916: 'The White Ribbon', dir. Michael Haneke, 2009.

If there's one mood that unites everything produced by the Austrian director Michael Haneke, it's that of disquiet. He gained global notoriety for his alarming and confrontational Funny Games (1997), which he remade in English in 2007, and achieved a string of successes with bleak films such as The Piano Teacher (2001), Caché (2005), and Amour (2012), the latter of which gave Haneke his first Academy Award nomination for Best Director. The White Ribbon, which was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film, is also a tremendous example of Haneke's stately and discomforting style of filmmaking. Like many of his feature films, it's about a world in which violence erupts suddenly and seemingly without cause.

In a small German village in 1913, we follow the stories of three families - headed, respectively, by the doctor, the pastor, and the baron - and the experiences of the midwife and the schoolteacher whose lives intersect with the events of the village. In the opening moments, the doctor rides up to his gate at speed. The horse falls in a spectacular fashion, and the doctor is thrown, injuring himself so badly that he will spend months, unseen, in hospital. Someone has stretched a wire between two trees, but before an investigation can begin, the wire has been removed. Further accidents befalls the town: a woman is killed falling through a rotten floor; her son takes vengeance on the baron by destroying the cabbage fields on the day of the harvest festival. The baron's son goes missing that same day, and is found injured the next morning, in the sawmill where the woman died. A barn burns down.

Haneke's screenplay chooses to leave these events mostly unexplained, but the violence spreads. The pastor's daughter, humiliated in front of her siblings, gets vengeance by murdering his parakeet. The steward's son at the baron's estate jealously attacks the baron's son. The midwife's son is also abducted, but his injuries are more severe and the boy may go fully blind. Whether his recovery is helped or hindered by the doctor is an open question, as the doctor has abruptly ended his affair with the midwife. The parade of mysteries and recriminations is so unrelenting that, when a scene is suddenly interrupted by the announcement that Archduke Ferdinand has been shot, we realise that we'd completely forgotten that was on the way. The outbreak of the war understandably eclipses all other concerns, but stymies the audience, who are denied any real answers - especially as the story culminates with several main characters completely disappearing.

'Watch who comes to help', the film seems to instruct us, and we gain partial access to the film's events through the eyes of the schoolteacher, our narrator. Suspicious at the interest the pastor's children have taken in Karli, the blinded boy's, convalescence, the schoolteacher intuits that the children of the village are responsible for many of the mishaps. There is certainly no shortage of motive against the men who run the town - the doctor abuses his daughter, the pastor severely punishes his children to try and keep them pure, the baron seems indifferent to everyone who works his land or populates his life - but many of these details are unknown to the schoolteacher, or to the gossips who formulate a different theory about the midwife and the doctor. What the outbreak of war does mean is that the schoolteacher is drafted, never returning to the village again and unable to provide any closure.

After watching the film, I discussed with the people in our viewing party our best guesses of whodunit. Our immediate suspicions also fell on the children of the village, because we'd been given enough insights into what was really going on that the schoolteacher's suspicions seemed well-founded. Despite this, I can't be entirely sure, which is certainly the point of Haneke's film. The idle speculation of the village's gossips is, on the face of it, as plausible as any other explanation, and this ambiguity is exacerbated by the extremity of some of the events. Children can burn down a barn, of course. They could possibly descend to blinding another child. They probably couldn't make multiple adults disappear, though... could they? Do we even think those disappearances are malevolent? Or are they the reasonable actions of the doctor, a man who fears he's about to be exposed as a molester, and the midwife, a woman who sees a village spiralling out of control and threatening her son?

Haneke is no stranger to this type of ambiguity. Caché revolves around a family being threatened by anonymous videotapes, but although we get some good suspicions of who is responsible, we can never be entirely sure of it, or even that the videotapes are meant to be menacing at all. In The White Ribbon, a similar type of uncertainty occurs. The film's narrative is even framed as the remembrances of an old man, so we can't even be certain that details aren't embellished within the world of the story, despite the precision of the film's black and white cinematography and objective, locked-off shot framings.

The experience of the film is also a test of the viewer's ability to recall and differentiate information. Is the girl fired from the baron's employ the same as the farmer's daughter, who was earlier described as having a job that keeps the family afloat? For a film that takes so much care with its imagery and sound, it's surprisingly disorienting - even Roger Ebert's review mistakenly remembers the murder of a child. We're eased into The White Ribbon as an experience of a whodunit - mysteries are posed, and we've been taught that with careful attention we can tease apart the riddles a film presents. But, as with Haneke's other films, no amount of note-taking or diagramming can explain things beyond the shadow of a doubt.

So what is the film, at long last, about? Haneke described the film in an interview as being about the inhumanity of rigid ideas, and how these strong moral ideas become the basis for evil. Ironically, the pastor attempts to teach his children right and wrong, and punishes them for even the most minor of infractions, not realising that this treatment might be causing his children to commit even worse sins. Meanwhile, the adults of the village, supposedly old enough to know right from wrong, inflict their own kinds of atrocities on each other and the children.

The results of this inhumanity spare nobody. Some characters, either explicitly or implicitly, realise that the only way to save themselves from the creeping damage, is to leave entirely. This could explain what happens to the midwife and her son although, of course, Haneke will not tell us for sure. It certainly explains the baroness's decision to leave her husband, shortly before the Archduke's assassination is announced. "I'm going so that my children don't grow up in surroundings dominated by malice," she tells her astonished husband, confessing that she has fallen in love with another man who, evidently, shows more interest in her and the children than her husband does.

It's not just the floor of the sawmill that has rotted away - "it's all rotten", a character warns another. When these horrible events befall the town, there is a natural tendency to seek answers, and to punish the culprits, but Haneke suggests that there is no easy way of doing this, and perhaps no point even if there was. The problem is not entirely with the children, if they were the ones responsible for doing these things, but rather with rigid morals handed down, which stunt them and drive them to further violence. The pastor, suspecting his son is masturbating, has him tied to his bed each night until his cravings pass. His children wear white ribbons when they need to be reminded to preserve their innocence, but these states of grace are short-lived, and the pastor relents and gives his children communion anyway. He learns nothing about what he is responsible for, and when he is confronted by the schoolteacher in one of the final scenes, he threatens to have the schoolteacher imprisoned.

The power structures of the village have rotted through, and tainted another generation who, having learned the difference between right and wrong, appoint themselves magistrates. In order to achieve this, though, they have to injure others to protect themselves, and the cycle continues. The outbreak of war doesn't stop this cycle - Haneke seems to see it as a different outlet of the same eternal poisons.

The White Ribbon is, funnily enough, one of the more accessible of all Michael Haneke's films, if you can stomach the oppressive feeling that lies over everything. It's less explicit than Funny Games, for example - most of the violence in this film is offscreen, which makes the moments of violence we do see all the more jarring - and more eventful than Caché. Like his other films, though, it lingers: knowing the message that Haneke seems to be trying to send doesn't put The White Ribbon to rest. "To function, art has to rub salt in the wounds", he says. "What interests me when I read a book or a movie are works that make me uneasy, that make me think of new problems, instead of those that reassure me. The films that I retain are those that disturb me."

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Hi! If your matchups are still open, could I get one for Slashers?

My pronouns are she/her.

I'm bi and demisexual.

MBTI is INTP

Tritype is 592. (5w6, 9w1, 2w3)

Alignment is True Neutral.

I've been hurt a lot in life so it takes a lot to gain my trust and get past my withdrawn and seemingly robotic exterior. But once you do get past it you'll see that I love very deeply and I'm very protective of those I care about.

If you hurt someone that I care about I will avenge them. Usually by scheming for something you'll never see coming.

I have a quirky, dark, and self-deprecating sense of humor.

My love language is quality time. Though I do enjoy giving people gifts as well.

I love to make things, whether that's crafting something, baking or simply taking the time to create a well-thought-out and highly detailed quiz.

I am slightly nearsighted and have glasses, though I tend to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on my own head.

My favorite genre of books, movies, tv, and games is fantasy. And if you let me I will info dump about fantasy.

I manage to be both touch adverse and touch-starved. I have to know and trust someone enough to be comfortable with physical touch. Minor things like a handshake don't typically bother me though, unless I get bad vibes from the other person.

Due to being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever I tried to speak they'd interrupt me or complain about me talking too much or too loudly. So I'm usually pretty silent unless you can get me started on something I'm passionate about.

Most of the time when I do speak, my words get muddled up. I especially struggle with words that have R in the middle of them.

If I get hyperfocused on something, I'll go the entire day without remembering to eat or drink anything.

How I process things is in three steps; Detach from everyone, repress/numb myself, then move back toward everyone while wanting to be as helpful as possible.

While detached I tend to get lost in fantastical thinking and daydreams.

I'm brainy and content to work behind the scenes, most of the time. And do my best to be fair and impartial as I try not to let my emotions cloud my reasoning.

I pick up on things other people might miss and make connections that aren't generally obvious.

Social cues are definitely my weak spot along with passive aggression. If you're upset with me about something you'll have to just outright address the issue because otherwise, I'll never get it. I may eventually realize that you're upset with me, but then I'll get stressed because I genuinely won't know why. And if you don't fill me in on what I did wrong, I'll spiral and eventually just assume whatever our relationship is now over.

My hobbies include playing video games, writing fanfiction (though I usually don't publish it), reading, and trying to cook recipes from my favorite movies, tv shows, games etc.

I enjoy thinking outside of the box.

I always have the urge to "collect" (horde) which I've primarily focused into my video games to keep me from doing it in real life. But I still collect books and novelty drinkware irl.

I cannot stand the feeling of water on my forearms/elbows. Or have the ends of my pants or sleeves being wet.

I'm very clumsy, frequently tripping over my own furniture. (and feet) I will always have at least one bruise on my body and there's less than 50% chance I can tell you how I got it.

For a lot of things, it's rare for me to have actual favorites. One day I may prefer ethereal wave music and the next I'll be more in the mood for 80s rock. I usually have a top 3, 5, or 10 but no absolute favorites. And this goes for all sorts of things, food, movies, etc.

My 'fashion' sense is somewhere between Dark Academia and Goblincore.

I adore animals, especially the kinds that are less liked by society. Possums, snakes, etc. Though I also love cats and currently have a cat. I would have more if I could. I handraised him, bottle-fed him after rescuing him. He's 10, spoiled rotten and I defy anyone to tell me he isn't my child.

I struggle with driving cars but motorcycles or scooters, I can drive like a bat out of hell.

I am autistic and my stims include knocking, vigorously rubbing my hands together, tongue clicking and knuckle cracking. And I am kinda worried my stims will annoy the people around me.

On bad days I can be rather misanthropic.

I love all things ghoulish. And enjoy going to scare attractions. Because I like being scared. Though if I can opt out of being touched I will.

I'm a high-key slasher lover and low-key monster fucker.

I always feel like I'm forgetting something or leaving something out.

Please and thank you. 🥰

(Also feel free to send me a request if you want)

I ship you with.. Lester Sinclair!

Lester completely understands your robotic exterior because of the fact that he himself uses a form of shield to protect himself. Instead of being stoic, Lester embraces the facade of the "creepy southern guy" role. Although he wasn't physically abused like Bo or emotionally abused like Vincent, Lester was neglected for most of his childhood.

You treated him as if he was a normal person, even though his job isn't the most pleasant nor the fact he knows he's not like his brother's who had charisma/ artistic abilities. Lester loves how you love the animals that aren't as liked. Lester loves Possums and armadillos himself. At one point, Lester had a pet Possum that he took care of since it was a baby.

The two of you are the perfect goblincore pair with the amount of chaotic energy the both of you share. Lester's love language as quality time. He loves just spending time with you while watching one of your favorite movies while Jonesy and your cat are cuddled up together. He spoils your cat with pets and catnip once the both of them become more bonded.

When it comes to your autism, Lester might struggle with fully understanding Stims but once he finally understands it, Lester isn't the one to get grossed out or annoyed with your stims, this man hauls more gross things in his day job so hearing your knuckles pop isn't gonna bother him. With your motorcycle, Lester would most definitely ask you to teach him how to ride because he thinks it's badass(and hot) that you know how to ride a motorcycle.

Other possibilities: Chop Top Sawyer, Baby Firefly, Stu Macher

[taughtdefense]

random peril

@vipersunion & ethan are approached by a group of random, dangerous strangers

here’s the thing: ethan’s been angry lately. he’s been angry at the universe, angry at his creators for everything they’ve done to him, angry at silver, angry ever since he got out of the hospital. it’s a rotten kind of anger, one that ebbs away at his mental state. he’s changed a fair bit since getting together with—& then breaking up with—auryn, since leaving the hospital, since he died twice & was resurrected. gone is the boy who had a chaotic glint in his eye, the version of him who didn’t think such dark thoughts constantly, who didn’t have the silver voice in his head. the former glint has been replaced by… very little in the way of warmth. his emotional fluctuations have been a little bit extreme, but it’s a goddamn miracle he hasn’t blown up on anyone yet. he knows that his friends are worried about him lately. how could they not be, with everything that’s happened to him?

despite his current state of anger, ethan had been itching to hang out with talia lately, just him & her, desperate to get a sense of normalcy back into his life. desperate to quell the silver voice for a least a little while. …or maybe because of that anger, he’d sought her out so he could attempt to push that anger away. ethan’s not quite sure himself. whatever the case may be, the warring dojos have been pushed to the back of ethan’s mind for today—miyagi do hasn’t had a run-in with cobra kai at all. no karate fights have broken out.

small victories. he thinks.

it’s why he basically annoyed talia until she finally agreed to hang out with him. he literally threatened to show up at the nichols’ apartment—because where else would talia walker be on a saturday evening, if not right next to nova nichols?—to drag her out into the valley for dinner. he’d paid for everything, too. he let talia order whatever she wanted & didn’t even blink at the price of the bill afterwards. the leftover containers are securely wrapped around his arm in a takeout bag, & there’s a notable pep in his step—he’s currently chatting about robby to her, & what they did earlier that day. he basically made robby breakfast in bed, & then they lounged around the apartment for basically the whole day, at least until karate practice rolled around. afterwards, they went back to hanging out together at their his their apartment, preferring to just be with his boyfriend in lieu of responding to his friends’ texts, or thinking about the karate drama. it was very nice. admittedly, ethan still gets butterflies because of his & robby’s new relationship. it’s all very exciting. not to mention healing, because of his past relationship.

he’s with his sister. he just had some great food, rambling about his boyfriend on their casual stroll down the street, enjoying the night air, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood because of that? after all the shit they’ve been through, he thinks they both deserve some relaxation. it’s certainly past due. he almost feels like his old self.

❝ —so then i looked at him, & i went- ❞ he’s cut off by the sound of his phone chirping, & he slows his current pace, then stops entirely on the sidewalk to pull his phone out of his pocket. ❝ oh, hang on a minute. ❞ it’s a text from shadow, quickly followed by a reply from light, his phone making another ping noise as light’s text comes through. he’s quick to respond to shadow’s text, hitting send. he slips his phone into his pocket, smiling over at talia. ❝ sorry. shadow just wanted to know if we were done eating our food. so, anyway, i said to robby that— ❞

all joy is instantly wiped clean from his face when he smells fresh blood nearby & hears a groan of pain. his shoulders tense, & he doesn’t realize that he’s grabbing talia’s hand & moving towards the source until he’s standing a few feet from where he’d been originally standing, staring down a semi-dark expanse of an alleyway.

ethan’s eyes widen in alarm when he sees a group of four middle-aged men surrounding another passed out, heavily bleeding man about his age. they’re all holding knives of various sizes, the metal glinting in the crappy side light above the side door of a restaurant. most, if not all, of the standing men have symbols tattooed on the sides of their necks—an ouroboros underneath a large black tattooed c.

ethan frowns. he carefully places the food containers on the ground. an alarm bell rings in his brain. ali said that lindell, saran & naima have those tattoos. cosima also has those symbols on her wrist… none of them have said anything about what the tattoos mean, though.

—& then the group, sensing a newcomer, turn straight towards him.

shit. they need to run.

don’t run. fight. you’re angry because of what i did to you. use it. prove to me that you’re not as weak as the valley assumes you are, as you’ve portrayed. the silver voice hisses. his shoulders tense, eyes narrowing slightly.

ethan doesn’t keep his eyes off the men fanning out & moving towards him, even as his body instinctually shifts to better shield talia from their gazes. he knows he can take them, & he certainly knows that talia can take care of herself. she isn’t made of glass, but he’s still worried, naturally. that’s what a good big brother does. worry, & do whatever he can to make sure that his sister doesn’t get hurt. if she gets hurt, he might not be able to keep a lid on his powers—& if that happens...

❝ i’ll be fine. go. ❞ he doesn’t like this, but if he can help someone who is in pain... besides, the silver voice is right. he’s angry, he’s in danger, so use your anger to your advantage. ethan says nothing more to talia, both human & eldritch halves buzzing with adrenaline.

one of the advancing men sneers suddenly, jabbing his switchblade towards ethan. ❝ hey, this kid looks a little familiar, doesn’t he? ❞ ethan scowls, his mind racing as he tries to recall if he met these people somewhere, in this lifetime or in another. he comes up frustratingly blank. shit.

❝ pretty sure he’s the one boss was talking about. ❞ grumbles another, his green eyes lingering uncomfortably long on ethan’s face. who the hell is ‘boss’, & how the fuck do these random fucking people know who ethan is?

did his creators—

ethan doesn’t have time to mull over the thoughts racing through his mind before a balled-up fist is flying up towards his face. he’s quick to block the punch by throwing his arm up, so instead of the punch hitting his face, it collides with his forearm. he pivots, grabbing the man’s wrist quickly, using his eldritch strength to twist his wrist violently until he hears a bone in his arm snap like a twig. a cry of agony erupts from his lips. he keeps a firm hold on his wrist while kicking out his knee. the man goes tumbling to the ground, crashing down, the pocket knife falling away from his other hand, skating across the alleyway. ethan doesn’t let go. he uses his grip to keep him in place on the ground, then punches him in the throat with his free hand. he brings his knee down onto his face as hard as he can without killing him, & the man is out cold.

❝ talia, go. now! ❞ ethan snaps to his sister-figure, & barely has time to pull back when he senses a blade coming his way, the switchblade aimed to slice at ethan’s neck. he doesn’t even have to look. he drops low to the ground, dropping underneath the swiping arc trajectory of the blade. he sticks his leg out & sweeps his leg violently. he crashes to the ground next to his friends, landing on his side. ethan lets go of the first man, his body snapping forward, then down, drive by pure instinct. he lands a direct punch to the second man’s face while he’s still stunned. his nose breaks with a violent-sounding crack, blood spurting from his nose, pouring down his face. the three other men take a step back, a little alarmed, clearly a little nervous. slowly, ethan rises from the ground, eerily way too calm despite having a third brush with death in a few months’ time. the look that’s on ethan’s face is downright nightmare fuel. he’s furious. the veins around his eyes are glowing red, his irises stained inky black. one of the men gasp in fear, horror, whatever. ethan simply stares at the three of them, not blinking.

kill them, ethan. another voice murmurs to him in his head. it’s first’s voice. they want to hurt you & talia. their boss clearly knows who you are. they were harming another human. humans like that don’t deserve to live.

kill them before they kill you.

what if they go after robby next?

no! ethan can’t let that happen. he won’t.

❝ fetid scumbags who hurt innocent people don’t deserve to live. ❞ ethan echoes first’s words flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. he barely even sounds like himself. ❝ i’m not going to kill you. if i manage to hospitalize all five of you, though, i’ll be doing the world a favor. it’d send a message to your boss, too. whoever the fuck he is. ❞ he mutters that last part.

don’t do it! ethan’s younger self screams back at him in his head. current-ethan pauses, blinks once. his other self’s voice is much quieter than silver’s voice had been, than first’s voice had been. what would robby think if he saw you/me/us?!

robby isn’t here. the silver voice chimes in straight after.

he isn’t.

that fact is enough for ethan.

next to the group, the dim lightbulb flickers momentarily, the glass cracking with the next beat of ethan’s heart. the three standing men flinch, taking another step back, towards the other end of the exposed alleyway. they’re running.

well, at least they have self-preservation instincts.

ethan’s vessel flickers violently, his true eldritch form flashing violently into view a little like he’s glitching into the universe. every single eye on his true form turns & glares at the men, irises turning blood red. the slit that acts as a mouth snarls demonically, sounding like a bomb going off in their heads. the transformation is only visible to the men, not to talia. as far as she’s concerned, she’s staring at his regular human back.

❝ if i were you, ❞ ethan begins calmly, ( IF I WERE YOU, his eldritch voice echoes, howls, screams directly into their minds, ) ❝ i’d stay away from the valley from now on. ❞ ( I’D STAY AWAY FROM THE VALLEY FROM NOW ON. ) ❝ pick up your little friends & get the fuck out of my sight, before all five of you end up drinking your meals through a straw for the rest of your pathetic, unimportant little lives. ❞ ( IF I DON’T OUTRIGHT SLAUGHTER YOU IF YOU EVEN LOOK AT ME WRONG. CHOOSE WISELY, & CHOOSE NOW. I WON’T ASK AGAIN. )

two of the men scramble to pick up their downed friends, & then they’re gone, tearing down the alleyway & disappearing around the corner. ethan watches them go, his face devoid of emotion. the teen on the ground is dying, a long slash mark from a knife slashed over his torso, his eyes full of agony, blood pooling everywhere, staining his clothes. ethan grimaces, walking over towards the boy, bending down next to him to apply pressure to the wound. the boy screams, & ethan feels… well, nothing.

❝ talia, ❞ ethan begins calmly, not looking over at his sister, instead bunching up the fabric of the young man’s shirt to try & slow the bleeding where his hands can’t reach, ❝ call 911. get an ambulance. then have them call the valley gen hospital. have them tell the hospital to have an OR & a surgeon standing by. there’s a single victim of a gang assault in the second alleyway in between saticoy street & darby ave, in between the coffee spoon coffee shop & the bodega. slash wound across the torso, a couple of broken ribs, in shock, concussion, other minor injuries.

if they ask how much blood he’s lost, tell them you don’t know because we weren’t around to see the assault happen, we only got here at the end at of it. he’s roughly 18-20 years of age. do it now. ❞ he takes a deep breath. ❝ after you’re done there, call wade & vanessa… or robby. let them know i’ll either be on my way to the hospital or to the police precinct. the police are probably going to want to talk to us. ❞

great. ethan thinks to himself.

[atomic-thomas]

(Fake ASMR Commission) Sailing With The Undead Pirate Queen [Part 2]

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

*just play the sound of the open ocean for the entire audio. this whole thing takes place out at sea*

"Ahhh, the smell of the open ocean. It's been ages since I felt so invigorated. It beats the smell of low tide any day."

...

"Yes, I can still smell. What, did you think being undead removed my senses? I've been able to interact with you this whole time without issue."

...

"What's it like. Well, being undead has some perks, but also some downsides."

"On one hand, I have several advantages over normal humans. Unnatural spiritual strength, desensitization to pain, an eternal body & no need for essentials like food or water. The afterlife is a self-sufficient existence.

"But on the other hand, it feels... Physically uncomfortable. I mean... Just look at me. The lower half of my body is skeletal & the upper half is comprised of putrid, gross, rotten flesh. I emit a horrible stench. My body is cold. And worst of all... I'm hideous. I used to be so pretty when I was alive."

...

"You think I'm still pretty. Come on. You don't have to senselessly flatter me. I know you don't really mean that. I'm basically a walking corpse. I literally look like death."

...

"Okay, well... Even if you are serious, how are you not bothered by the stench? The smell of decay is foul."

...

"I still smell better than a skunk. Wow. So the bar for compliments is really that low for me, huh? It's better than nothing I suppose."

"Just why are you acting so peachy anyway? I did try to kill you earlier, you know."

...

"You think I'm... Cool. Well... Yeah. I suppose it makes sense that you'd think an Undead Pirate Queen is cool. I thought you were getting cozy because you know I respect you now."

...

"No, that's not a problem at all. You earned it. You fought for your life, I saw that fiery determination in your eyes, you gave it your all &... It was a good enough display in the end. I see you as an equal. Someone I can clash swords with to get my thrills. Cure my boredom. Assuming we meet again of course. I don't really know what's gonna happen after you & your crew return home."

...

"Oh, don't fret about it. I won't force duels upon you if you're not in the mood. And even if we did fight again, it would just be friendly competition at this point. I like you."

...

"No, not in that way you silly swashbuckler. Someone like me can't be in a relationship. I'm a feared pirate legend. The queen of crime. The scourge of the sea. And in my eternal existence... That's all I can do. Raise hell until the end of time."

...

"Well, no. I don't technically have to. But it's not like I can restore my humanity. I'm dead. I'm too far gone... So far down this rabbit hole... Even in death... That nothing else can be done. My existence would be pointless otherwise."

"I shall spend all of eternity being the villain that I've always been known for. Killing... Stealing... Wreaking havoc on the Seven Seas with this rickety old ghost ship. All while being accompanied by the spiritual blue flames of my loyal crew."

...

"I do love my crew very dearly. They're basically family to me. I treat them with kindness & care. And in return, they show me their dedication."

...

"Not very pirate-like. What do you mean? Did you think I keelhauled them or forced them to walk the plank if they made a single mistake? No one's perfect. And besides... Being cruel & merciless to those who are close doesn't exactly command respect. I need their loyalty. If I'm gonna be the boss, then I wanna be the best damn boss there ever was. We even used to partake in Sea Shanties to keep our morale up."

...

"Oh... You're curious about the spirits of my crew themselves, huh? Well, from what I've observed, their spirits appear to have aspects of literal fire. You got stranded on that island because my crew set your ship ablaze. So they're clearly capable of causing physical burns even in death. It's quite extraordinary."

"I've also noticed that if they're in water, their spirits persist as a faint glow. And when they're out of water, they reignite as if nothing happened."

...

"I'm not actually sure if they can control their flames. Are you asking if you can touch one of them without getting burned?"

...

"Well... Let's find out then, shall we? Hey! One of you there. I need a volunteer to test something for me."

...

"You'll do just fine. Now... Try touching our new friend here without burning them. I want to know just how much control you have over your flame."

...

"Hmmm... Interesting. You appear to be fine. How does it feel?"

...

"Pleasantly warm. I see. So my crew really does have control over their fiery spirits. Fascinating. Even in death, they still manage to surprise me."

...

"It'll be a while before we make landfall. I wonder if that blasted kraken will show up again."

...

"Truth be told, I don't know if it's even still alive anymore. It's been many years since that fateful day. It may have died of natural causes... Or it could've been slain by formidable forces."

"Or perhaps... It may still live... Lurking beneath us just waiting to strike at any moment."

...

"Yohohohohoho! Fear not, matey. If that beast does show it's wretched mug again, we're far more prepared this time. Not only do we have strength in greater numbers thanks to you & your crew... But me & my crew have further advantages.

"A mortal creature cannot kill what no longer lives. The blazing spirits of my crew will roast that kraken alive. Then we can dine on delicious fried calamari afterwards."

"I dare that behemoth to show itself! It'll be the last mistake it ever makes."

...

"Nothing. Hmmm... Well, no matter. I don't care either way. Regardless of what happens, I'll see to it that you & your crew make it home safely. And once we part ways..."

...

"I'm not sure how I intended to finish that sentence. What will you do? Venture out to sea to pay me a visit? Clash swords in a friendly spar perhaps? I may act vile towards those who haven't earned my respect, but you're special. A pirate's honor."

...

"How would you find me. Well that's easy. I can just send out my crew to patrol the ocean. You're bound to encounter at least one of them. And when you do, they can lead you to my ship. It's really that simple."

"For now, just kick back & enjoy the ride."

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

THE END

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

I posted 30,648 times in 2022

That's 2,423 more posts than 2021!

378 posts created (1%)

30,270 posts reblogged (99%)

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I tagged 378 of my posts in 2022

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#like... i think thee'd have to be thunderbolts raining down as i flipped off the sky to motivate me to even consider... how i would tell th

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

you know, in almost every horror movie ive seen where the premise is that the whole family/community are cannibals and th3ey just have whole rooms for bodies to be hanging about in different pieces

like...99% of the movies just have it in some filthy shed or room covered in old blood and mold, with flies and meat hanging up sans refrigeration

like how has the whole ass cmmunity or family not died from rotten meat? from salmonella? half the time they don't even clean the bodies before they kill them so they're caked in mud

pretty sure humans have weird shit that lives on our skin just chilling and waiting for a cut or microtear to get inside and cause chaos

you would think an entire household or town dedicated to luring tourists and murdering them for meat would have discovered a more efficient and food safe way to do it.

not to MENTION like how does this happen? you go to a town meeting one day and on the ballot is a) lowering the speed limit around the school, b) funding the community garden restoration, and c) becoming a covert murder factory for fun, food and frivolity...

Things that would make more sense than a hotel that traps people: a SPA

the people coming in are usually the health-conscious type, they have some form of bath or soak throughout the process, they're relaxed, and you could put paralytics in the facemasks or something

not to mention, most rural towns (where this shit is usually set?) have butchers and mobile butchers at that with their own set up and clean room type equipment. there's heaps in our area. Wouldn't it be less suspicious to have them turn up, grab the bodies and transport them to another area for dismemberment? People are used to mobile butchers doing this sort of thing with cowsa, pigs, goats, etc. Plus they'd at least have clean equipment and less chance of unsanitary items used for the dispersement of meat etc.

The butcher shop would be the first place you'd think of for cold storage, but what about the freezers in the local supermarket? Assuming there's a walk-in and everyone's on board so the new people in town won't squeal to anyone.

The local ice cream truck or shop? Maybe?

If it's small enough the pub might have one of those converted shipping containers out back that's now a giant freezer.

Not sure how they'd store it, but like there has to be a better premise for the horror of the movie than 'opened fridge in dirty house to find a head or fingers'.

I think you could absolutely pull a subtle horror story out of this, and they could legit gaslight the tourists (only taking specific ones) by advertising the hotel as haunted.

you KNOW that people will already be on edge thinking they might see a ghost, and will manufacture paranormal incidents, which is the real trojan horse here. so you go in thinking its a ghost movie or maybe a cryptid movie, so when the occasional bone or skull is found it's like "oh no, the ghost/cryptid did it"

the whole time the protagonist(s) are having just the most amazing meals and customer service... never suspecting.

NOT TO MENTION none of that bone windchimes bullshit.

What is the one thing a LOT of farmers use? It smells like vomit so you always know its in use? Blood and Bone fertiliser. no questions asked for anyone who has been in a farming area. It really helps gardens bc nutrients (its legit blood and bone with other mixtures, usually the offal and such from abbottoirs)...

Maybe the locals are like super funny about it. There's a whole year-round halloween attraction with real skeletons and just enough tacky decorations that no one questions them.

Or the doctor's office has a like 6ft skeleton and the school uses it on occasion for biology.

the real question is like, what are funeral rights like in a town dedicated to eating people?

Is a town member considered Sacred and Off the Menu?

Or is it an honour to have your body shared amongst your loved ones after death? Does anything change in the event of like, an unexpected or accidental passing?

If you have a combine harvester accident, and you lose an arm, does the amputated limb go on the menu or it is carefully disposed of?

They never really look into how this whole system works in terms of a full town structure. It's always some shitty "protag snaps awake and screams at dead bodies" thing as people leer or masked people cut up bodies"

If they expanded on it, it could be interesting.

But that's just me, I'd want to know WHY a whole town went full hannibal and how that impacted all the other systems. Government, health, education, political/legal, community events?

Do they have a section for Special Meat Dishes in the local show / bake-off?

See the full post

57 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#4

...can a mimic get into a hospital/magical medical center with dr clerics or whatever, and pretend to be an organ?

Like, eat what was in the transport carrier, and get transplanted?

That could be a really fucked up DnD campaign where it slowly starts to bond to the body and fights for ful control of the limbs, and noone in the party knows until the changes are physical...

It could go:

a) the horror route, where they lose out to them and become a monster, and perhaps this is how mimics gain the mass to become a greater threat

b) the tragic hero route, where they see they are being consumed and sacrifice themselves to save the others

c) the changeling route, where the two mix into a new entity either with, or against, the will of both the mimic and the host

d) the symbiote route, where they bond and learn to live together, even begin to work together and maybe even love one another much to the discomfort of the other party members sharing the tent

e) the trial by fire route, where only through great suffering can the means to remove the creature or make it inert be gained

f) the medusa route, where the host is strengthened through (faith, medicine, magic, other) and is able to overcome the parasitic thing and force it into inertia so it 'dies' but remains as the organ itself

g) the feral route, where the host embraces the desires radiating through them and becomes wildly unhinged around concepts like 'good/bad' and 'friend/food' as the tendrils slip into their mind but still retains primary consciousness

h) the mirror route, where the creature takes control if the host is unconsious and has a different 'self', but will usually only act to preserve the body

i) the What? route, where the hero just wakes up as a normal person with a strange ability to shapeshift or blend into surroundings without any explanation and is just like 'fuck it let's gooooo'

j) the Aw YEah route, the same as i) but it's a bard, and they use it for... reasons of charisma, seduction and experimentation

k) the What To Do When You're Expecting route, this could be the final part of a mimic lifecycle and the hero was a good option to carry their spawn or eggs or magical essence or however you want to play that. mostly bc it would be hilarious to have someone being healed mid-battle and the cleric being like, 'uh, congratulations and im not sure what it is but there's a lot of teeth...'

l) the Choose route, where the host has a crucial moment to choose to keep the mimic or destroy it despite the cost and has to think about the benefits and problems. like, it could be attached to any other letter scenario as well, or random.

m) the PAssive route, weird but hear me out... the cleric catches it, and believes fervently that their patron or deity would want them to help soothe the anger and bloodlust, to bring this creature to peace and handles the issues through intense meditation or calm

n) the Zombie route, where the creature bonds to the hero and fills their blood with spores. non toxic, not harmful, but it does push for them to bring their bodily fluids into contact with the others around them. maybe they get hurt in battle more easily, maybe they're more seductive than usual, or more violent (eg biting in fights), and it targets the party. because it wants to build a protective brood around the host that are loyal to the mimic and will die to keep it safe / has readily available back-up hosts around.

o) the It Takes a Village route, smooshing concepts (k) and (n) together, so that the mimic builds a whole interconnected family of ifferent biologies to spawn through. giving the future mimics unique and durable genetics. more autonomy for hosts, but it pushes emotional bonds as well, and builds an army to protect spawn.

p) the Bonding Song route, where it uses the basic idea of (n) but to gradually make the infected cease movement and settle in a safe, secluded place all together with one mobile to bring food to them as the others meld together physically into a big organic Thing that will slowly form into a Boss Mimic. The mobile one remaining will continue to feed it, and help lead adventurers to it.

Probably others

74 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#3

cant shake this shitty headcanon in my brain of percy accidentally seducing the others in vox machina by teaching them how to do court dances

something the gentry and nobility are schooled in from a young age bc half their interactions with other noble houses are at balls where all dancing is regimented and very public, the most physical contact with someone outside your own household, usually

But it's all 'hands pressed as you step in counterpoint' and maybe a few flourishes or dips to show you have some mastery

its all fun and games until you realise how close you both are, and that you have the instructors full attention as he shows you how to dance (and not make an ass of yourself at the next formal dinner/ball / charity royal or-gee or whatever the money havers get up to in their free time)

Scanlan would be fun, though, imagine the strict discipline of dance trying to quell a bard whose entire way of motion to music involves hip thrusts and disco moves???

just saying, could be hilarious, could be very cute too

having trouble picturing a few of them, but as a spectator sport it would be very entertaining

89 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

#2

Master List - Creativity Help/Art Block Busting for Writers & Artists

Post for AUs & Tropes

Post for Monster-Making (Mundane Items)

Post for Dryad Creation

Post for Fae/Fairy Creation

Post for Random Character Weaknesses

Post for Random Superpowers

Post for Mermaid Making

Post for Monster Mixology

Post for Making a Randomised Centaur/Taur

Post for Winged Creatures

96 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i feel like the voix machina group could have handled the percy situation much easier if they have an enchanted like, pole catcher thing

like... "I am death and vengeance and-"

*snick* "Gotcha, let's get you a snickers."

324 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[witchthewriter]

Hi! Could I get a Level 5 ship for Stranger Things, DC and Buffy, please?

My pronouns are she/her.

I'm bi and demisexual.

MBTI is INTP

Tritype is 592. (5w6, 9w1, 2w3)

Alignment is True Neutral.

I've been hurt a lot in life so it takes a lot to gain my trust and get past my withdrawn and seemingly robotic exterior. But once you do get past it you'll see that I love very deeply and I'm very protective of those I care about.

If you hurt someone that I care about I will avenge them. Usually by scheming for something you'll never see coming.

I have a quirky, dark, and self-deprecating sense of humor.

My love language is quality time. Though I do enjoy giving people gifts as well.

I love to make things, whether that's crafting something, baking or simply taking the time to create a well-thought-out and highly detailed quiz.

I am slightly nearsighted and have glasses, though I tend to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on my own head.

My favorite genre of books, movies, tv, and games is fantasy. And if you let me I will info dump about fantasy.

I manage to be both touch adverse and touch-starved. I have to know and trust someone enough to be comfortable with physical touch. Minor things like a handshake don't typically bother me though, unless I get bad vibes from the other person.

Due to being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever I tried to speak they'd interrupt me or complain about me talking too much or too loudly. So I'm usually pretty silent unless you can get me started on something I'm passionate about.

Most of the time when I do speak, my words get muddled up. I especially struggle with words that have R in the middle of them.

If I get hyperfocused on something, I'll go the entire day without remembering to eat or drink anything.

How I process things is in three steps; Detach from everyone, repress/numb myself, then move back toward everyone while wanting to be as helpful as possible.

While detached I tend to get lost in fantastical thinking and daydreams.

I'm brainy and content to work behind the scenes, most of the time. And do my best to be fair and impartial as I try not to let my emotions cloud my reasoning.

I pick up on things other people might miss and make connections that aren't generally obvious.

Social cues are definitely my weak spot along with passive aggression. If you're upset with me about something you'll have to just outright address the issue because otherwise, I'll never get it. I may eventually realize that you're upset with me, but then I'll get stressed because I genuinely won't know why. And if you don't fill me in on what I did wrong, I'll spiral and eventually just assume whatever our relationship is now over.

My hobbies include playing video games, writing fanfiction (though I usually don't publish it), reading, and trying to cook recipes from my favorite movies, tv shows, games etc.

I enjoy thinking outside of the box.

I always have the urge to "collect" (horde) which I've primarily focused into my video games to keep me from doing it in real life. But I still collect books and novelty drinkware irl.

I cannot stand the feeling of water on my forearms/elbows. Or have the ends of my pants or sleeves being wet.

I'm very clumsy, frequently tripping over my own furniture. (and feet) I will always have at least one bruise on my body and there's less than 50% chance I can tell you how I got it.

For a lot of things, it's rare for me to have actual favorites. One day I may prefer ethereal wave music and the next I'll be more in the mood for 80s rock. I usually have a top 3, 5, or 10 but no absolute favorites. And this goes for all sorts of things, food, movies, etc.

My 'fashion' sense is somewhere between Dark Academia and Goblincore.

I adore animals, especially the kinds that are less liked by society. Possums, snakes, etc. Though I also love cats and currently have a cat. I would have more if I could. I handraised him, bottle-fed him after rescuing him. He's 10, spoiled rotten and I defy anyone to tell me he isn't my child.

I struggle with driving cars but motorcycles or scooters, I can drive like a bat out of hell.

I am autistic and my stims include knocking, vigorously rubbing my hands together, tongue clicking and knuckle cracking. And I am kinda worried my stims will annoy the people around me.

On bad days I can be rather misanthropic.

I love all things ghoulish. And enjoy going to scare attractions. Because I like being scared. Though if I can opt out of being touched I will.

I'm a high-key slasher lover and low-key monster fucker.

I always feel like I'm forgetting something or leaving something out.

Please and thank you. 🥰

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Robin! You two would have such a blast together; always laughing, making jokes and talking about the world. She gives you hope for the future - she is the light in your life. You wouldn't ever feel uncomfortable or pushed with Robin, she's always on your side no matter what.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Likes when you play with her hair. Not a lot of people are allowed to actually touch Robin, so her wanting you to play with her hair is a big deal!

・You guys play this game where you watch people and imagine what their conversations are. You'll each put on a silly voice or accents to mimic the person.

・You drag Robin to Corroded Coffin concerts (more like sets but don't tell Eddie that).

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Surrounds by Anatole

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Protective Gremlin x Teddy Bear

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

She loves that not a lot of things faze you. Even when she had to talk to you about the Upside Down ... you were actually ... excited? Almost like you wished for something out of the ordinary to happen.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Is Eddie Munson! I think he would love how edgy you are, even if you don't think that about yourself. You have an affinity for thinking outside the box that not a lot of people have, especially in Hawkins. He would feel less like a freak with you. Not because you're a freak, but because you give him encouragement.

𝐁𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Willow! The lovey-dovey, passionate witch who would do anything for you. One of the things I hated about the series was the fact that Willow "went bad" because she had "too much power". What bogus. Like yes, I liked that she was a student afterward in witchcraft, but then they treated it like a drug-addiction. IF YOU HAVE MAGIC POWERS, WHY NOT USE THEM?! Anyway, I think you guys would be a great match because you wouldn't try to hold Willow back. You would encourage her to be who she wants to be.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Willow was actually going to put a love spell on you, but it was at the height of her magic; she thought she was unlovable and wanted to be loved so badly. Silly Willow, little did she know, you were already in love with her.

・She hums a LOT. When she's cooking, reading, writing, studying, cleaning etc. She just hums. You always try to guess what she's humming and it becomes a game

・YOU HAVE ALL THE PETS. When you move in together, you guys don't stop adopting, and animals naturally gravitate toward you. There really isn't a 'responsible' one in the relationship... so no one can attest...

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Wait A Minute! by WILLOW (hehe get it??? Anyway, this really fits.)

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Wide-Eyed and Curious x Kind-hearted and Gentle

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your loyalty. Willow is always so loyal to everyone else, that she feels like 'the dependable best friend'. With you in her life, she feels like she actually has someone who gives the same energy back. There's nothing worse than giving and giving and barely receiving.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Is gotta be Xander or Buffy. With Xander I think you would have a lot of laughs, everything would seem so light-hearted and problems weren't that big. I don't think you'd like Anya, because you've got the same energy, and too much of one thing usually leads to a mess. With Buffy, I think you'd have a lot of open conversations. She would come to you for advice and feel comfortable to talk about anything.

𝐃𝐂

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Dinah! I think she would be the most understanding and open-minded with emotional maturity. She doesn't act on a whim like Harley, or keep things bottled up like Ivy. She's quite open, or at least talks it through with the person she has an issue with.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You love listening to Dinah sing. She has such an otherwordly voice that you feel transported. You ask for certain songs and Dinah always rolls her eyes

"Only for you babe"

・She loves hugging you from behind and rest her head on top of yours. Plus, she always smells so good, like rosemary

・Loves leaving little lipstick kiss marks on your cheek

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

▪️ Lips by The xx

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

▪️ Sun x Moon

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

She loves your open nature. Your honesty and willingness to speak the truth. It's refreshing, especially for Gotham, where lying is second nature.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Would most definitely be Harley Quinn! As your alignment is True Neutral, I think you guys would have a lot of fun. The chaos would be magnificent; who wants to do the right thing all the time?

[plan-d-to-i]

(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

-

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

[dangermousie]

Hello !

I was wondering whether you could rate and tell us of your top 5 favourite webnovels/cnovels of all time ?! (Sorry if this has already been answered lol😅)

Thank you, stay safe and have a nice day🖤

Awww, thank you and that is such a lovely ask!!!

From n1 to n5, here they are (they happen to be all danmei.)

1. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) - my n1 forever and ever.

Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.

I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)

And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.

Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.)

Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!)

Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!

2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated.

Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.

This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love.

Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)

3. Qiang Jin Jiu - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train.

In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.

This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.

As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs.

Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.

4. Wu Chang Jie - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet.

In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.

Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.

Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever.

And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.

One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on.

If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in.

There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify.

Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.

5. OK, this is hard and switches between Sha Po Lang, Heaven Official’s Blessing and The Golden Stage depending on my mood. So what the hell, I am gonna write about all of them.

Sha Po Lang - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)

Heaven Official’s Blessing (TCGF) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.

The Golden Stage - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.

I guess I didn’t write as much for the three n5 candidates as I did for 1-4 but my brain is beginning to curdle so...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series),egos clashing, mentions of past trauma and violence

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You try to maintain the new peace in your existence.

Note: Honestly this series isn’t really listening to my plans so here you go.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You did not attend the second day of the tournament. Whether it was out of Barnes insecurity or anger or even both was not known. You did not complain for it. You didn’t have any energy for it after all that occured. He did not apologize, nor did he forgive, but he bided you and left in a lighter mood than you’d seen him in for a long while.

He wasn’t competing that day either. Perhaps that eased his stress. You languished in his chambers alone. You paced, you laid down but did not sleep, you sat by the fire then stared out the window. You existed in anticipation of his return.

When he appeared, the sky was a dimming blue. He did not acknowledge you as he kicked off his boots before entering. He rolled his shoulders and picked out a chain to hang around his straight collar. When he finished that, he opened up the wardrobe and selected a fine burgundy velvet piece and draped it over your lap. You watched him as he checked the ring on his finger.

“You will accompany me to the feast,” he stated, “now that we’ve come to an accord, there should not be another scene… isn’t that so?”

“Yes, my lord,” you stood and he helped you dress a piece at a time. The gown was stiff and hot. You chose a black cap trimmed in gold to pair with it and he offered you a chain link necklace to wrap around your throat. He eyed you up and down and peered out between the curtains.

“We will be late,” he said as he came back to you, “sweeting,” he poked his tongue between his lips as he considered you, “this morning…” his lashes lowered as he thought, “I was irrational last eve. Tonight should not be so… hostile. I long to start anew.”

“As you wish, my lord,” you agreed, “I never intended any acrimony between us. I’ve only served you--”

“Serve,” he shook his head, “I do not want you to serve me,” he took your arm, “I’d prefer you… care for me. Be with me in more than your deeds.”

“How were the games today, my lord?” you eluded him.

“Entertaining… well, for a time. By the finale, I was rather bored of it,” he shrugged, “I also did not say but you will sit with me this night. The king, my sister truly, has seen to it.”

You let him lead you out of the chambers. Lester was there as always, smug in his armour as he watched Lord Barnes direct you down the corridor. You ignored the guard as you always tried to do. He was the reason you were stuck, you’d decided, if he wasn’t so eager to impress his master you would have got away.

That time, you entered the feast hall from the opposite side. You felt Bucky tense as you passed through the doors. You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you up onto the dais among the higher nobles and the king. You couldn’t help but hold his arm tighter.

“You will be fine,” he assured as he drew you along. 

He greeted Lord Rogers in a low voice and pulled out a chair for you to sit. He lowered himself between you and Rogers as King Samuel called to him from the Duke’s other shoulder.

“My lady,” the king raised his already full goblet at you, “we welcome you. We trust Barnes should not be so dour with you near.”

“Your majesty,” you bowed your head and when his attention returned to his queen, Rebecca, Barnes’ sister, you sat back and hid behind her brother. She was even more beautiful than when she’d resided in the castles. She had the same dark hair and those sparkling blue eyes.

You glanced around the hall and your eyes skimmed over those three figures you were trying not to think of. You stared at the table instead as you shook away the memory of May’s warm voice, Benjamin’s quiet comfort, and Peter’s hurt and shock. The previous night still lingered and made you fill rotten and even more displaced. You weren’t dumb enough to believe that any would see you beside the duke and believe you anything but what you were.

“Pardon, my lady,” the chair on your other side shifted and you looked up at the man with the odd accent. You hadn’t seen him before but there were so many faces, you couldn’t have recalled them all, “I believe this is my seat,” he clung to the seat next to yours, “I only did not want to startle--”

“Don’t talk to her!” Barnes hissed from your other shoulder and stood with a scrape of his chair. He squeezed your shoulder and uttered under his breath, “do not entertain this man.” He turned and flagged down Samuel with an angry wave, “what is this? For what purpose is he here?”

“Buck,” Samuel lowered his cup and stood. He walked behind the chairs until he reached the stormy duke, “the war is over. He was sent as assurance of that. We are allies now.”

“I should throttle him where he stands,” Barnes growled.

The other man sat coolly and signaled for his goblet to be filled, entirely unconcerned with the ravenous lord snarled at his throat.

“You will not. I cannot send him back dead and indeed, I do intend to send him back better than,” Samuel chided, “now sit and bide your tongue and your wrath.”

“He--” Barnes huffed then clamped his lips shut. You’d seen him angry but never like that. “You would sit him near me.”

“It was an unfortunate oversight. Perhaps Rogers might allow you to relocate--”

“No, no,” Barnes sneered and dropped into his chair, “your priorities have been understood.”

“I’ve allowed you a lot,” Samuel lowered his voice as he leaned over Barnes’ chair, “don’t make me rescind all my kindness.”

Barnes grumbled like a petulant child and reached for his cup. When it was empty he slammed it down and snapped his fingers for a servant. You looked around, your natural response was to do it yourself but you did not move out of fear. You were between two men with an obvious and intense distaste for each other.

“Apologies, lady, I cannot fault him his distrust--”

“Don’t talk to her,” Barnes pointed at the man as a servant stood at his other shoulder to pour his wine, “I will not warn you again. Her nor I will have a word from you.”

The man laughed and drank from his own cup and shrugged. He winked at you as you eyed him and he considered you a long while after. Barnes reached over and grabbed the arm of your chair to drag it closer to his. 

He whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin, “he is a villain and you will not indulge his want of menace.”

“Yes, my lord,” you murmured as his hand went to your arm and searched out your hand from the folds of your sleeve. He shook as he twined his fingers between yours. He was more than angry, he was more upset than he’d ever been.

🏰

Barnes dragged you from the hall as the dancing commenced. He’d been agitated throughout the dinner and you let him stew in it rather than say or do anything that might provoke him. You didn’t know who that man was but his accent hinted at a former adversary, perhaps in one of the campaigns that the duke fought in years ago. You wouldn’t ask, that would be stupid.

That night, he was uninterested in your body beyond holding you close. He was still wound tight and fidgety. When you woke, he was already risen and half-dressed. He was shirtless and his arm remained on the chest where he’d left it. He sat on the bench and looked to it.

You got up and lifted his arm. It was heavy but you managed. You wondered how he could bear it every day. The thoughts swirled in your mind as you thought that no one would think less if he only pinned his sleeve. He was a veteran, a hero to many, he shouldn’t be ashamed. 

Then you caught yourself as you approached him. He was awful. You shouldn’t pity him, you hated him. You helped him strap on the artificial appendage and silently buckled the straps. He groaned and pushed his head back as you finished.

“You should dress. You’ll do well to watch the games with me. Tomorrow I will be competing again and you will have to attend alone… though I did think to send Lester with you or another,” he said as you helped him into his tunic.

You acquiesced and pulled out a pale gown in a gentle robin’s egg blue. He helped you in turn and you stood before him ready to play your part. He sat and handed you a comb to help with his hair and you pulled it back behind his head and bound it with a thin tie. He almost purred as you did and when you finished he pulled your hand down onto his shoulder.

“We should away. Break our fast and go early to the stands. A box is reserved for me and you would not have to sit amid the masses,” he bid as he rose, “I trust you know what is expected of you now.”

“You, only you,” you assured him, “I will not wander again, my lord.”

“I will not tolerate it again,” he warned, “but I trust you, sweeting.” He pulled you to the door and his hand slipped to grope your through your skirts, he turned and bent to kiss you hungrily, “this will be over soon,” he drew away, “and we will return to our home.”

🏰

The box was much nicer than the crowded stands. The benches there were cushioned and only held several lords and ladies. The king was competing in the ax-throw and his queen observed in the box with two of her ladies, Marguerite and Tess, you and Barnes shared a bench but he was hardly interested in the games, and Lord Rogers paced behind the seats as Lord Stark boasted about the axes he’d designed for the tournament.

“Barnes,” Stark called to the duke, “I should have your saddle modified for your use on the morrow but some questions remain.”

Barnes sighed and touched your arm as he spoke quietly to you, “I swear he is so concerned, he is up to some trick with it.” He stood and walked around the bench to sit with Stark, “questions?”

“I have it…” Stark reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded page, “these are sketches of what I’ve done but I did wonder for some practical attunements given your… needs.”

The duke sniffed and looked over the drawings and you focused on the field as the targets were arranged further away than the previous round. You were startled as you sensed movement and you rose as Rebecca came near. She waved you off and sat beside you.

“Forgive me, I haven’t had a chance to see you,” she said sweetly, “I do remember you… lady, now, is it?”

“No, not really,” you ran your thumb down your palm, “your majesty, he bid me here, I know it is not proper--”

“My brother is stubborn, do not apologize for that for I am certain you suffer for it,” she trilled, “and he is peculiar but somehow I was not surprised at how he has… taken to you.”

“Your majesty,” you dipped your chin down as you listened.

“I imagine it must be lonely. You don’t know anyone and how could you? It is a poorly kept secret what you are, and I say that without condemnation, but he has thrust you into an unkind position,” she continued.

“I serve your family as I always have,” you replied.

“Your mother… she’s a pleasant woman, I always liked her. She used to bring up my linens and she had the most friendly face. How does she fare?”

“She died,” you uttered, “she had a growth in her neck and… she could not be saved.”

“I am very sorry, I didn’t--”

She pushed her shoulders back. She reminded you of her brother in her posture but she was kinder than him. She peered around the arena and nodded to herself as she thought. She peeked back at Barnes and you did too. He was irritated as Rogers had closed him in on the bench and both lords seemed to be working to stoke him.

“I must admit I did not see to you purely out of sentiment of our shared past,” she continued, “there was none in that hall last night who did not feel my brother’s spite or notice the man who earned it.” You blinked at her as you met her gentle eyes. Her smiled fell and she touched your sleeve, “he has afforded you quite the wardrobe but perhaps I might see to something more of the fashion.”

“That man,” you urged, “who was he?”

She chuckled darkly and lowered her chin, “forgive my distraction. That man is Baron Helmut Zemo,” she spoke in barely a whisper, “he fought in the campaigns… against my brother and my husband.”

You watched her nervously. You were still a kid when Barnes went off to war with his banner and you remembered his return, how none had seen him for years after as he hid away with his wounds.

“He dealt the blow that took my brother’s arm,” she quivered, “I warned Samuel it was tenuous to bring him here but… in the name of diplomacy it cannot be avoided. I only want you to know because you deserve that and it would help in dealing with my brother's moods… perhaps. I don't think anyone has ever truly understood how."

"Oh, uh, thank you, your majesty," you looked across the field as metal crashed into wood, "I suppose it is better that I know."

"Better you know and stay clear of the Baron," she said, "and for me, keep my brother from him as well. We cannot afford another war on the back of his grudge."

"I… how--"

"You do not see it but you hold a power over him. We both know his reputation; unsociable to say the least," she laughed lightly, "keep his mind from Zemo until he is gone, there are better things he could think on."

She stood with a last smile and you watched her skirts flow behind her. You kept your head up and your eyes down on the figures below. You did your best not to wince as her show of kindness became apparent for what it was. She was like her brother in more than just her looks. She was using you for her own means, that was all these nobles could see in others.                           

[skellebonez]

SO, remember that thing you wrote a while back, about Monkey King and Mk time traveling back to the JTTW time period?

Link to said thing: https://skellebonez.tumblr.com/post/647766968590581760/18-for-present-wukong-and-mk-to-accidentally-time

THIS? RIGHT WELL, I HAVE HAD IT OPEN IN MY TABS FOR A REALLY LONG TIME AND WOULD LIKE TO GIVE YOU AN OPENING TO CONTINUE WITH IT IF YOU'D LIKE: PROMPTS 34 and 41

So. Time travel is funky. This is set post-Special, immediately pre-season 2. But has spoilers for events up to S2E7. For reasons. Side bar: sometimes time travel comes with some fun side effects. Fun for the viewer. Less fun for the people experiencing them.

Truth be told, I forgot they were even here./Can you teach me how to do that?

"Won't this cause some kind of... I-I dunno, time paradox?" MK asked in a harsh whisper as they followed the traveling group at the back of the line. "Or is this gonna be some kind of 'you changed one thing and now two timelines exist' kind of deal?"

"I genuinely have no idea," Wukong said with a sigh, digging at the uncomfortable but familiar feeling in his ear and trying to keep his voice down as much as possible. He was honestly surprised that it had taken MK this long to ask this particular question, but then again... they had other things to worry about. "I don't remember this, but that may not even matter. I've around for centuries, Bud, but even I have no idea how thing works for us."

"That is not a comforting sentence."

It had been a little over two days since the mentor and student had found themselves thrown backwards in time a few centuries away from home. And Sun Wukong could tell that MK was starting to get more and more frustrated as time had gone on. To be fair, they had made little progress. And there was... another reason... multiple other reasons. But most importantly, there wasn't exactly a power source they could plug the machine into that would give them enough juice to send them home, at least not unless they chance by a demon with lightning powers that Wukong didn't remember. No, instead they had to wait until they hit a storm.

One that was more than another two days walk away.

The young man did his best to not let it show, however. Most likely because of who they were traveling with.

His younger self lead the group, pointedly not looking back at them and keeping a watchful eye for demons that the elder Wukong knew would not come. He dared not bring this knowledge up, though, not knowing if MK had a point about that paradox. He didn't seem to trust the completely, but there was someone else he trusted.

Behind him was his former Master. The monk Tripitaka, Tang Sanzang himself, on the back of the horse formed dragon Bai Long Ma. Bai Long Ma had said nothing, as they were wont to do, and seemed to mostly ignore the two of them unless they were loud. Mast- Sanzang. He had insisted that the elder Wukong and MK call him Sanzang. Probably to help differentiate who was speaking to him if he could not see the two immortal monkeys, and also because MK kept trying to figure out which title to use for the monk and he took pity on him. Sanzang, after a hour's long explanation and from proof via MK's phone and knowledge of past adventures none should know of (and one very interesting game of staff trading between the two monkeys for a moment where the younger Wukong realized it was indeed the same staff).

Sanzang had not mentioned his crying when they met. Neither had his younger self. Or MK.

Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing took up the rear. Wujing had not said much to the two of them, but he was nice enough. Suspicious of them, but nice. He put more faith in Sanzang and younger Wukong (perhaps he should call him something else in his head) than his companion.

Bajie didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, that was clear from the way he kept glancing back at the duo with daggers in his eyes. He was immediately unhappy with their new travel companions and... Wukong realized with a sad jolt that he actually missed that. At the time he only found Bajie's contrary nature to his own to be frustrating but now... now he hadn't heard that in 500 years and he could see that while it may have been misguided at times (many times) it was born of a sense of self preservation and a want to protest Sanzang.

Even if he contradicted himself at times as well.

"You two doing ok back there, older me and Kid?" Younger Wukong called back suddenly.

"Yup, just. Hanging." MK yelled back, tone as terse and done as it had been for the last day. "Not like I can do anything else." The second bit was muttered under his breathe, most likely in the hopes even his mentor couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

Wukong felt... bad. Because he was the primary source of this rotten mood.

The staff digging into his ear for the first time in centuries was a reminder of that. An agreement between himself and his student to not bring up any undue suspicion and questions that would take time they may not have to get back home. They'd agreed that the group would also call him Kid, since MK wasn't as fond of the others calling him Bud for some reason, and the name was just... a smidgen to close to Monkey King to not raise similar questions. It was also a reminder that Wukong had let slip in a follow up conversation, away from prying ears, about why this may or may not be really necessary that he had planned to leave the next day in present time.

MK hadn't been happy since. Not with him at least.

"Bajie, remember to ask them how they are doing from time to time. Please?" Sanzang insisted in front of them.

"Truth be told, I forgot they were even here," Bajie lied.

~

Bajie glowered down at Wukong, throwing the fruit and wrapped rice packages in his general direction and not caring whether he caught it or not. There was a soft and disappointed cry of his name from Sanzang from the other side of the camp.

"Master and the stupid Monkey may trust you," he snorted, ignoring the call and looking between Wukong and MK. "But I don't. If you even so much as set one little toe out of like I will re-"

"Rend our souls asunder with your mighty 9 Toothed Rake, yeah," MK sighed as he used some of the water from his cup to wash the berries thrown at him. "You're Zhu Ganglie, Zhu Bajie, Tiānpéng Yuánshuài, commander-in-chief of 80,000 Heavenly Navy Soldiers. You will kick our asses. We know."

For a whole second Zhu Bajie looked genuinely surprised and... kind of impressed.

Then he scoffed again and made his way back to the group of five and watched them from the edges of his vision with less suspicion and more curiosity than before.

"Mei was right when she said he was kind of like Pigsy," MK noted, popping a berry into his mouth.

"When was that?" Wukong asked, doing much the same.

His student froze, looking down at his hands for a moment as if trying to remember something. "... not important. Let's just eat and get some rest, like Sanzang told us to."

It didn't take a Great Sage to realize something was wrong.

Wukong said nothing.

~

"Kid, we told you to stay back with Master!" Wujing shouted as MK peaked his head around the rock he and the monk were taking shelter behind.

"I know!" MK snapped, growling as he ducked back down and presumably curled in on himself. "ARGH I feel useless!"

Wukong winced at his tone, feeling bad. MK wasn't useless, to be fair, but without his staff and no backup weapons he was fighting up a creek without a paddle as it were.

"You're not useless, and you're protecting Tripitaka!" He shouted, letting out a yelp as he narrowly avoided a hit from a demon that should not even be here. Or, some kind of time anomaly mockery of a large demon. An enormous smoke or shadow creature that was far too familiar for his own liking. Not the same, something possibly cobbled together from time itself.

"Wow, uh, future me you're not doing so hot!" Younger Wukong said with a raise of his eyebrow as he blocked a strike with much more ease. "Aren't I supposed to get better with age? Like a handsome fine wine?"

"I'm a bit RUSTY ok!?" He snapped, slicing off one of the shadow creature's cloth tassels to watch it flicker away. "Haven't been many demons to fight!"

He heard a scoff from behind the rock before he felt the giant fist punch him into it. And through it. A Wukong sized hole between student and old master. He realized too late that he had lost his grip on his staff as it flew into the air above them.

"Alright, that's enough!"MK shouted, and before Wukong could even move to stop him the Monkie Kid had jumped into the rock and reached up.

"KID DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?" Bajie shouted in horror as he made to rush back and tackle him out of the way. He hadn't moved fast enough either.

None of them had, before MK caught the staff as if it was as light as a feather and twirled it around himself before extending it and launching himself at the shadow creature with a scream of rage and frustration and landing what would have been the killing blow had it not clearly been something not living in the first place.

It dissipated much as the piece cut off before it did, leaving MK to... give a confused yelp and fall into a heap on the ground. The staff fell to his side as he clutched his head and yelled in pain from a source Wukong could not see.

"Kid!" Wukong screamed, moving faster than he had during the entire fight to his student's side. "Kid, shit, MK! What happened?"

"MK?" Sanzang and his younger self asked softly in tandem as Wujing and Bajie watched on, all moving closer. But not too close, giving the two room to move.

MK didn't answer. He sat up, holding his head in his hands as he breathed deeply and tried to keep from screaming again before everything just... stopped.

His sat on his knees, hand hanging limply at his sides as his true sight shone in his eyes and he looked on forward blankly.

"What's... who is he?" Younger Wukong asked slowly as he turned to his older self. "What is he?"

"The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon..." MK muttered softly all of a sudden, just loud enough for the group surrounding him. His voice was slurred, almost like he was in a trance. "Their light a protective glow shining upon the world..."

"MK, where did you-" Wukong tried to ask instead of answering his younger self as he slowly stepped forward, cautiously, but MK continued on as if he had not heard him at all.

"Together there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms... or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew so too did his shadow and soon the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero..."

MK immediately slumped forward as he fell unconscious.

"MK!"

~

"His name is MK... and he's the Monkie Kid... My successor," Wukong finished as he laid a fresh cold wet cloth over his student's forehead. After he had collapsed it became obvious something was seriously wrong with MK, high fever burning him up quickly. They were only just close enough to a town for him to grab him and the staff and rush off with barely a shouted back explanation of "find us at the inn" to the rest of their group. "We thought that... keeping that a secret might prevent any kind of... weird time travel... stuff."

Wukong sighed. His explanation was weak even to his own ears. Excuses. Ways to make things easier for him.

He felt worse than he had just the day before.

His student laid unconscious still, fever burning even after the medicine from the town doctor had been given to him with water carefully. The only thing Wukong could think of was the staff. MK wasn't invincible like he was, maybe contact with it had caused a reaction from the time travel that couldn't affect the immortal.

"Why would you need a successor, Wukong?" Sanzang asked after they sat in silence for a moment.

Bajie handed Wukong the mortar and pestle he had been working with to prepare more medicine, something to add to tea when MK woke up. The pig demon had not questioned him once since they arrived, only grabbed what Wukong was trying to mix poorly himself and listened.

Bai Long Ma had changed into a human form, one he had rarely seen, and sat beside Wujing. They both also listened.

His younger self looked at MK in a mix of wonder and confusion and horror and Wukong could not blame him. The idea of a successor... he must have known himself what that meant even if no one else did.

"I hope I don't have to tell you," he said softly. He didn't look away from MK, even as Sanzang laid a comforting hand on his back. "And I don't want to risk what telling you might do..."

No one questioned him after that.

When Bajie prepared the next bowl of medicine for MK, Wukong took a chance he never had with the demon he once considered like his brother.

"Can you teach me how to do that? Properly?"

Bajie did.

~

"Monkey King?" Came the hoarse rasp of MK's voice ringing through the room, and Wukong shot up from where he was watching the stars in an instant.

"I'm here, MK," He said softly, still soft, not wanting to hurt his student in case hie head ached. "How do you feel?"

"Dead, but only from the neck up," MK groaned out, and Wukong let out a relieved sigh. He wasn't sick enough to not joke around at least. "Where are we?"

"The town we need to be in," Wukong answered, quickly working on adding the medicine into some now (sadly) cold tea. He had hoped MK would wake much sooner. "Storm is tonight... you've been asleep for a whole day. Hopefully getting you home with this medicine in you will make you feel better, you uh... you weren't doing so great before-"

"What happened to Macaque?" MK asked suddenly, looking for all the world like he had no idea why he would even ask that question to begin with. "Not the battle your younger you had. Before that. In the story. Sun and Moon. Please, I... I want to know. Just... just tell me something, for once."

Wukong froze, fur bristling and stiff and this was not the conversation he wanted to have with his student right now. This is not the conversation he should be able to physically have with his student right now because MK should have no way of knowing anything like this at all. But he had. He'd recited the story he'd heard before word for word from... Macaque.

This was not the time for easy outs. Not anymore.

"I've made a lot of mistake, MK," He started, lifting his student's head onto his lap to help him sit up for the drink. "And a lot of them are ones I didn't think you would have to know about. But Macaque... it's complicated, I know that now. I didn't back then."

MK sipped the tea but said nothing, only made a face at the taste of the medicine.

"We were friends, once. Back on Mount Huaguo before I went to the Celestial Realm, he became immortal in... other ways to my own. I was trapped for 500 years under a mountain without him, no one came to see me so... I guess he was never able to find me. Or he waited thinking I would eventually come back," Wukong tried not to think about how that meant he could have had trust in his friend and not for other reasons he had assumed for so long. "You know the story of the White Bone Spirit from our journey? How Bajie got me banished?"

Wukong couldn't help but chuckle. Oh, he'd been so mad at Bajie for so long for that. He still was, in many ways. But given what happened to him later on in the journey Wukong couldn't hold a grudge.

"Yeah you-" MK coughed a little, probably from not talking for a whole day and a sore throat. "You went back to Mount Huaguo."

"And to Macaque," Wukong continued. "For the first time in 500 years."

"I bet he was angry."

"No..." Wukong disagreed, shaking his head and thinking back. "No, he... wasn't. Not at first. He was ecstatic I came back. The Hero and Warrior of Mount Huaguo back together again, just like old times. But it wasn't like old times. I was already different, I knew how I treated others including the monkeys on my mountain hadn't been the best. And when Bajie came to bring me back... I couldn't help but wanting to leave back to the journey. Part of it was to get the fillet off, but part of it was because... I realized I cared for the others. I wanted to see the journey through with them."

"Macaque thought you were abandoning him," MK said after a moment, eyes widening. "That's why he took on your identity. He wanted... revenge? For you to have no reason to leave again?"

"I think he just wanted what we used to have," Wukong said with a frown. "I've been running from him for so long... over another 500 years. I've made so many mistakes in my life MK, but I think not trying to get him to come with us or trying to properly explain what I was doing... may have been the worst."

"... The warrior was never forgotten by the Hero after all," MK said softly before drifting back to sleep.

"No," Wukong agreed, though he knew he was not heard. "No, the Hero never forgot. The Hero never will, not completely. Even if it hurts."

~

The storm came on schedule. The machine was charged.

Over the day they came back their memories of the trip back in time faded into a distant thought, one that both mentor and student soon forgot to fear the loss of.

By the next day they had forgotten. Time had fixed itself.

But not completely.

The Hero never forgot completely, after all. There was something telling him in the back of his mind to check more on his student. He remembered a hand on his back that should not have been there. He knew how to mix something he never had before.

Neither did the Warrior, uninvolved in this adventure as he may be. He had plans.

And the one between them, with no title to himself, didn't completely forget either. He recalled feeling warm and safe. His head was on someone's lap. There were berries and someone not unlike one of his father figures.

The memories of what happened lingered, quiet, uncalled but emotions still there.

A short time later the one between felt that a play he went to was strangely familiar to him and needed to rush out before his head began to ache in memories he didn't recall.

"So um... what happened to him? The Warrior?"

The answer was somewhere in the back of his mind. If only he could remember.

[kireiwoo]

[4:01pm] # kang yeosang.

“i spy something... blue!” you scoff at yeosang’s clue, aggressively motioning with your vacant hand to the scenery surrounding you. he’s laid beside you on a colourful plastic pool chair on the boardwalk, entertained by the amusing affairs happening by the crystal blue waters. you take a brief swig from your non-alcoholic, lime-infused champagne, relishing the fizz of the dried cranberries that bubble from the bottom of the flute. the drink was surprisingly cheap for such a well-made concoction; but then again, the bartender was relatively flirty anyways. yeosang clears his throat; “listen y/n, the hints i can give you are literally limited to your colour coordination.”

he gulps down the remainder of his pinkish shirley temple, tossing the lemon garnish in the now-melted ice pool. “it’s just that it’s the middle of summer and we’re at a beach,” you inform. he mocks you with his adorable lisp, frowning after you glare at him while sucking your bottom lip between rows of white. “you’d think that there’s a lot of blue things around.” you finish, but your conditioning is a farce, because yeosang simply takes out his phone and scrolls through his social media boredly, seemingly waiting for you to begin listing things that’re blue.

“fine. is it the beach? the sky? is it that little kid’s swimming gear? what about the ice cream parlor down the street?” you make a point to emphasize the sheer amount of things that his object could feasibly be. his eyebrows perk, dark brown hair falling into his eyes like warm chocolate as they blend with his light amber irises. he perches a hand under the curve of his chin, nodding interestedly for you to continue, but when you simply stare blankly, his expression slackens into one of pure boredom.

“it’s none of those things but i appreciate your effort,” he says, smiling gently, “but the blue thing is your mood! why are you so... cranky?” a pout etches it’s way onto your face as you gaze longingly towards the clear water, a look of desire simmering in your face. you aren’t offended by his conjecture, and in fact, you found it quite thoughtful that he paid attention to the cues of your attitude. yeosang switches his eyes from your glum mannered countenance to the location of which you were staring; the ocean. unfortunately, his innocent obliviousness impeded him from discovering the cause of your distress, but he had some semblance of an idea as to why.

“is there someone you miss...?” you snort at his assumption, arduously denying it. he blushes and nods, clearing his throat and musing about what it could be. you wanted to swim! the entire reason you decided on a beach for your day off was to swim, not stay seated at some scratched up recliner with snobby drinks and games from your childhood—all you wanted was to splash in the water with yeosang, enjoying the freedom and the coolness of the liquid against your waist and skin. tired of his incorrect guessing, you tell yeosang about your inhibitions, watching his face contort into confusion before blatant understanding.

“why didn’t you just say so?” he asks, laughing while you peek intrusively at his unconcerned posture. you stopped yourself from immediately padding straight into the water when you’d initially arrived because you didn’t want to embarrass or annoy yeosang, seeing as his disposition is influenced and shaped by how many obstacles he has to overcome, but this whole time he was completely fine with it?

“that creepy bartender’s been staring at you ever since we sat down—i was gonna ask you to swim after we finished our drinks; didn’t wanna waste them.” you blanch at his words and struggle with not swivelling to confront the supposed assailant, but yeosang’s calm demeanour ultimately lets you know that he has this under control. quickly chugging the rest of your drink, you shiver at the burn of the minuscule sparkling pint, shaking your shoulders before sitting up in readiness.

yeosang giggles at your elation, setting his own cup on the tropical fruit-tray used for when occupants were done with their drinks. he loves seeing your unconcealed delirium, thriving off the adrenaline of the moment—as someone considerably calm, he loves the dynamic of lazy unconcern and optimum restlessness; it adds a touch of authenticity into your relationship. cracking his fists and standing to stretch, yeosang smirks as you follow in tandem, jumping on your feet childishly as if eagerly desirious to swim, and with a competitive lip-bite and dopamine flooding through his head, he utters a sentence that kickstarts the fun of today.

“last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” and with that he takes off, leaving you to stalk behind him in almost shocking synchronization. earlier you were playing a pleasantly tedious game of i-spy with your adoring, sarcastically goading boyfriend, hoping arduously and desperately for some sort of respite to the game. your insides twisted with each second spent sitting on the uncomfortably hot and scratchy pool chair, the drink in your hand pruning your mood into a ball of concealed disappointment. but kang yeosang understood your qualms with a simple, nondescript complaint. he didn’t fiddle with your muddled mindset, nor tease you ruthlessly for wanting something so comprehensively juvenile. instead, he ran to the blue waters with you, hoping to ignite some of the childish naivety in his tryst; but the only petulant innocence found was in your puppy-love for him, hopelessly enamoured by this awfully sardonic, gorgeous and kind man.

the same one you were about to beat to the beach.