#hey I can’t remember all the blogs and who belongs to who I

[stinkybrowndogs]

A bunch of Scrunkled pet commissions from earlier this month! All of these guys are true cuties 💚🐶🐱

[nuumbie]

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak. He would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move. Until he had lost all vigor and passion to try.

That day would never come. Even now. He’s never lost focus from his dream.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky.

The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived. The same world that had taken everything from him was once his home. For every beauty, there was a sadness. He was still preserving its existence. Because. If he hadn’t there would be nothing left of him.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to. Only memories.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost while he watched helpless.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go. He holds onto it. The memory is similar. It brings him comfort and pain. That’s why it’s meaningful.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. To stare at him. To see him. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. So, it’s somewhat affirming to have someone stare at him. To see him. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light behind your eyes. Something that rivals the force of the sky. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble, crushed fingers grasping for things they’ll never reach. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s lost. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking.“You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed. He hasn’t seen his own face in a long time. At that time — it felt so simple. There wasn’t truly any deep, meaningful, reason to accept your request. He could have easily parted ways there. What difference would that have made on your journey?

But… perhaps he was lonely. For he had so far to walk. And he had nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes somewhat baffled by how quick of a response he shoots ought. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs while turning his back and already beginning to walk. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands. You make a point to showcase your discontent as you scrounge through your wallet. You don’t have very much money on you at all.

But you pay the fare so you both go on a journey.

People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

-

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you. You’re always walking ahead or too far behind.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. Simple but effective. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him. You’re rather enamored by your own face.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops rather quickly when it looks strange on his face. Unnatural.

Dainsleif is secretly glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but someone else looking back at you.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly while holding out your palm. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh… that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see. Are you curious? Then…”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world. So he indulges in you.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin in all its glory. And there is nothing in the world he can realistically get that he truly wants.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So he instead directs it towards you and drops it into the palms of your hand like it’s precious.

“You should do it, then.” His voice is impassive as usual. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Somewhat dumbly you take the coin in your shaky palms as he gives it to you. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long. The coin hits the water with a somewhat disappointing ‘thump’.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain. ( It will be gone when he comes back to reflect on the memories. A world which people resort to stealing wish money from wells. )

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

-

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living at the time with bright lights and fireworks in the sky. Momentous and bright.

The joy they experience is vibrant. Savory smells wafting through the hair. A memory which will be long-lived in each villager’s mind. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence alone together. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of the day the sky was bathed red. Do you see the same sky as him when you stare up at such flashing lights, too?

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud snapping pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of flashing lights. So he assumes you’d have the same line of thought. Somehow, Dainsleif’s eyes always find his way to you.

"We don't belong in this world." Are the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children who dance among the bright stars together. He notices a pair of children holding the other’s hand tightly.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful.

l. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks. Not once does a smile ever cross your face.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside your fingers brushing against the glass of the window against the painted sky and the people packing up. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children and all the adults goodbye wishing them happy lives. They’re kind and wish him and you both the very same.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. He will never be able to understand them.

Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with the two of you as well.

-

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop before you reach the grand island You plan on camping that night among the dangerous but beautiful land. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So he hadn’t stopped you from dipping your feet.

You reach your hands towards the bright sky and the stars above.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he had actually tried.

He doesn’t bother.

Dainsleif sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. Just bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. This place won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself. About this sibling he doesn’t know. About their interests and likes.

“Do you like it?” He asks gentler than he intends.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you and making a move for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you closely thinking little of it.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

-

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around but you keep walking forward. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant. A little ahead.

You glance up at him wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's rare that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddities. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your hands. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

-

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind. The current you is just as much of a puzzle.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track of how many days that have gone by. Some days blur.

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

It would explain why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place without ever stopping.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face as you lay at your camp. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. Too little distance but you don’t seem to mind how close he is. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later because those words are not happy. They’re sad. You should both be clean. But, there’s a certain joy to sharing your lows. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this conversation and feel nothing but regret about it later. He comforts you now and answers regardless because he would regret leaving you unanswered now even more.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Is it so hard to believe he cares after you’ve spent so long together? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh. A laugh which threatens on a sob.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder and hug him. He caresses you and lets you cry into his chest.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

It isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing. But you always pretend.

-

You both never kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one a deep sadness falls over you. So he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden by avoiding every chance he has.

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time. Some days he wonders if you’ve forgotten to speak at all.

The light behind your eyes is a distant memory.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers that he’s cooked. They’re burnt. He’s not very good of a cook.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know… I remembered and got curious… so I asked.l

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once. You’ve done the same to him.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan like he’s said something embarrassing.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout with crossed arms. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how. He doesn’t know if he should.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues letting his judgement not get the better of him.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you would just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like happy.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face. It feels like he’s gone as crimson as the moon.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in abject horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it. Understanding other people. He tries to emphasize and nods his head.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

-

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all then. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it. He allowed it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach and severed through. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally live and grieve until there was nothing left to lose. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him and leaving him to live with this loss. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed. And then you will most likely die against the weight of the heavenly principles.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown as deep as the abyss.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him and led to his fall. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly hold. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you he thinks with grasping hands.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

-

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

[silveryclear]

Hide and seek

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Friend belongs to @stnaf-vn

Pairing: Friend/ AFAB Reader

CW: Sensitive Content, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Implied Murder, Drugging, Panic Attacks

A/N: The writing process for chapter 7 of the STNAF Coraline AU is coming a bit slower than expected, so here’s some angst while you wait heheh.

Your keys jingle uncontrollably as you try to balance the groceries on one hand while trying to unlock the door. The TV must’ve drowned your knocking and incessant ringing because the babysitter’s presence was nowhere to be found. Once you had managed to find your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter, you walk towards the living room; only to find it empty. And a mess.

You roll your eyes at this as you pick up the remote and turn it off. “Kids, how many times have I told you to turn off the electronics when you’re not using them?” You yell as you tidy up around the living room, picking up decor items that were scattered along the floor.

“Did you kids wrestle each other again? I told you to be careful when you play fight!” You sigh and make your way upstairs. To your surprise, your sons were already tucked in and sleeping soundly.

You chuckle and gently close the door. You were thinking about giving the babysitter an earful but they seemed to perform a miracle if they managed to get your kids to bed in time.

Speaking of which, where is the babysitter? You look in the other rooms upstairs, calling out to them. Weird. If they left, they would have given you a call.

Just when you were about to call them, you hear the TV downstairs turn on again. You sigh, feeling as if someone was playing with you like a puppet as you make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Thank you for getting the boys to bed early. It’s always a struggle for me so I’m willing to forget about the mess—“

The rest of the words die in your throat as your gaze lands on the person sitting on the couch. The one person you least expected to appear, sitting nonchalantly as you stared at them paralyzed in fear.

Friend smiles sweetly at you, taking the remote control and lowering the volume. His signature blonde hair on full display, however, he’s changed— grown. His muscles flex with every movement and he sports a trimmed beard, all adding to his mature look. His voice got slightly deeper as well.

“I’m glad! We just tussled around in the living room for a while until they were all out of energy. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon.”

You could hear Friend talking but his words were partly drowned by a ringing in your ears. Your hands trembled as your breathing grew ragged. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear. You were back in that basement, an IV strapped to your arm as you remember your slow and steady descent into madness— convinced that you loved the man that is standing now in front of you.

“Sweetheart, baby, you need to breathe. Breathe for me, come on…” He says in a sickeningly concerned voice. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t afford to pass out, not when your children are upstairs, unaware of the person who is in their home.

Oh god, he was playing with them… how long has he been here? Where’s the babysitter??

“Baby, no, come on. Stay with me.”

“Stay with me, please.” He whimpers. “I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart…”

Flashbacks infiltrate your mind and you can feel yourself falling into that same place you had worked so hard to crawl out of. You push Friend away and glare at him, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. You pant heavily.

“Stay away from me…” you whisper at him, your voice filled with such rage it genuinely took Friend aback. “Stay away from them…”

Friend recovers and smiles softly at you, as if you hadn’t basically sent him to hell with your expression. “You know I can’t do that baby…” He murmurs softly, slowly reaching out his hand to caress your cheek.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, doing your best to ignore his gentle touch and gaze— the ones he weaponized to keep you isolated with no one to rely on except him.

You look at him again to see him staring at you you with such an affectionate expression, tears brimming his eyes as he gazes at you. It almost makes you waver.

“I have sons…” he murmurs with the softest most proud voice ever. “You gave me children…” Friend’s voice trembles at the end of the sentence, but he smiles in awe of you.

He reaches out hold your hands and you don’t react, staying silent. “I’m sorry…” he whispers before bringing your hands to his lips and kissing them gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you… but I’m here now.” He gives you the widest of smiles. His expression, albeit more mature, still holds that same obsession from years ago. “We can be a family again. You, me, and the triplets.”

You let your tears fall freely as you shake your head, sniffling. “We can’t…”

“Shhh…” Friend slowly wraps his arms around you and embraces you. You begin to sob, trembling in his embrace. “We can and we will…” He rubs your back soothingly as you sob harder from his words. “I searched high and low for you, baby… I haven’t slept in six years.” His embrace becomes tighter, constricting. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He whispers deep and firm, his possessiveness creeping in through his voice.

“No no no no…” You cry out, squirming in his grasp with no hope to escape. He’s gotten bigger, stronger.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry. You know this is what’s best for us. Think of the children. Do you really want them to grow up without a father?”

You shake your head, your eyes closed shut as you do your best to drown out his manipulative words. You know what’s best for your children. You’ve done what’s best for them.

“I did think of them… why do you think I escaped?”

Friend tenses for a moment, his expression hard. It quickly melts into the affectionate smile he usually had with you and only you.

“A momentary lapse of judgment on my part. I should have done better to show you how much I love you.” His hold on you tightens. “I should have kept you in the basement.”

“No, Friend please…” You whimper, crying on his shoulder. You can’t. You can’t go back there. You can’t let your children grow up in this environment, thinking that whatever twisted love Friend felt for you was healthy.

“It’s okay, baby… I’ve already taken care of everything.” He coos softly. “Let me take care of the four of you now…”

His words are like molasses as they stick to your mind and infiltrate your senses. You’re reminded of the way he “takes care” of things and you remember the disappearing babysitter— along with the disappearance of your closest friends and colleagues in the past. Flashbacks of your descent into madness flood back and you thrash against him. Your cries turning into screaming.

Friend sighs and takes out something from his pocket. “I didn’t want to do this…” Suddenly, you feel a prick on your arm and slowly everything begins to swirl into darkness.

“Nooo…” You whimper softly, your eyes half lidded.

“Shhh… just sleep. When you wake up, these past six years would have felt like a bad dream~”

You can only hope these past few minutes were the bad dream as you slowly fall unconscious in your best friend’s arms.

[back2bluesidex]

Fool's Gold - JHS

Pairing: Idol!Hoseok X Staff!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au

Wordcount: 865

Summary: Falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool's Gold.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, loving somebody who can't be yours. That's all.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I promise I had absolutely no plan of writing this one. But Hoseok came home and made me an emotional puddle. so I had to get things off of my chest.

Your eyes find him readily across the room as if those were made to spot him in a room full of blood and flesh. 

He shines. 

Just as always, Jung Hoseok shines the brightest, dimming everyone’s aura completely. 

Your grip on the camera goes tight as he smiles fully at Namjoon, who seems to say something pleasant in his ears. 

He doesn't see you. He obviously does not. Why would he? 

While he is the main focus of everyone’s attention, everyone is proud of him for showing excellence in the military just as he did in Bangtan… You are nothing more than a lowly photo and videographer. You are someone who runs behind them to document their every possible move with a stupid inanimate device in your hands. 

Just as today. 

There are times when you hate your job, especially because it lacks the hierarchy and authority that you would like to have in order to shut some mouths. 

But on days like these… you love it. 

If it’s not for the nature of your job then you would not be allowed to enter this dining room of your company to capture Hoseok and his members having dinner with some of the most important people of Hybe.  

If it’s not for your job then you wouldn’t have the fortune of witnessing Hoseok being more beautiful than you can ever remember. His cheeks are fuller, lips plumper, shoulders broader, chest buffer but his eyes… His eyes carry the same kind gaze, same warmth, same twinkle that made you fall for him long ago. 

Your chest tightens when he looks away from Namjoon, attempting to reply something to Jimin, and his eyes fall on your figure, awkwardly standing at the door. 

Then he smiles at you. 

And your world seems to start dancing in the rhythm of destruction. You feel high and low at the same time. You feel happy and sad all at once. 

He still looks at you, he still smiles at you but not the way you want. And it will never be the way you want. 

“Hey, Y/N! How have you been?” he chimes in. his voice sounds like honey in your ears. You find yourself smiling automatically. 

“Just getting by. What about you?” You ask softly. I miss you, the forbidden words linger on the tip of your tongue but you know you can’t say it. You won’t dare to. 

“Doing better than I thought. Why-” Hoseok gets cut off as one the managers start speaking. 

“Okay everyone. Let’s sit straight for a moment so that Y/N can click a picture and leave. It’s getting late, she needs to wrap it up.” 

And that’s your cue to leave. No matter how sugarcoated the words are, those translate to “do your work and leave. It’s not the place you belong.” 

So you do as you are told. 

After clicking five pictures and checking if everything’s alright, you take one last look at Hoseok only to find him smiling kindly at you. 

You bow a little as you get ready to leave. You can’t even wave him goodbye without making yourself look like a desperate staff trying to throw herself at an idol. Sucking in a deep breath along with all the pain and heartbreak your unrequited love has brought forth, you leave. 

You are halfway through the corridor when you hear your name being called from behind. 

Fuck! It’s Hoseok. 

When you turn around, he is already quite close to your form. So much so that you have to take a step back to maintain a staff-idol distance. 

“Hoseok..” you mutter. 

He lifts up a box, which you assume to be full of macarons. 

Wiggling it in front of your face he says, “You love macarons, don’t you? I remember you gobbling these during our snack times.” he laughs a little and your heart fills with liquid emotions ready to spill out of your eyes. 

“I picked some up for everyone on my way here. Take it.” he takes hold of your free hand and transfers the box into your grasp. 

“Th-Thanks.” the words choke on your mouth. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs and tell him that you love him, tell him that you have been missing him. But again, you can’t.

“No need. Enjoy the weekend.” he places his palm flat on your shoulder and sets your skin on fire, heart in erratic motion.     

“Yes, you too.” you manage to voice out.

And then within a blink he is gone. 

You see him running back in the room just where he belongs, as you stand there in the corridor, just where you belong.

As soon as his body disappears from your view, your eyes get blurry and tears run down your cheeks. You are, once again, aware of the difference that persists between you and Hoseok. Two of your worlds can never collide. He can never be yours even when you have been his, only his, for a long time. 

You knew it all but you still let yourself fall for him and you don’t regret it. 

Because falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool’s Gold.  

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

[bellarkeselection]

Regardless They’ll Always Be Dutton’s

I just had an idea about a story that I think would be great. It would be a Lee Dutton x reader with alittle kayce x reader - request from @cookiez56-blog

Shutting the front door I gazed out back into the front yard seeing my two children William and Lana who we’re playing tag in the grass off the front porch. My father in law John was sitting beside my husband Lee. Sitting across from them on a small wooden chair I noticed that John was looking at Lana for a long time. “Is something wrong, John?”

“I might be wrong. But I don’t miss anything on this ranch. So does someone want to tell me why Lana looks more like Kayce then she does you and Lee. Cause I want to know if I’m just not awake yet this morning or not.” John ran a hand over his chin in thought then he messed with his white cowboy hat on his head.

Lee and I shifted our gaze back to each other before he reached over grasping my hand in his seeing that I was starting to let some tears fall remembering that day. “He was an idiot to ever do that to you, Y/n.”

“Kayce, I have to tell you something and I’m not sure the best way to do this so….here it is I’m pregnant.” Running my hands through my hair we were about to graduate high school in a few weeks before I found out I had missed my period.

Kayce dropped his hands at his side’s changing his demeanor completely from what I thought he would. “We can’t do this anymore, Y/n.”

“What are you saying?” I dared to ask him horrified of his next response.

The youngest Dutton sent me a half sympathetic look. “Y/n, it won’t work between us anymore. I’m going into the navy and you won’t want to stay worried about me all the time. And you’re probably not going to keep the baby anyway, whoever it belong to.”

“It’s yours asshat!” I blurted out throwing my hands away from my sides feeling heartbroken at what he was saying. “I lost my virginity to you. You’re the only person I have ever slept with!”

He shook his head removing his hat running his fingers through his hair frustrated at me and himself maybe. “I…I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think that it was that easy for you to get…especially the first time. I can’t do this.” He slowly turned on his feet beginning to walk away from me and back up to the main front porch of his family’s home.

Running forward I grabbed Kayce’s wrist holding him to a stop and slapped him across the face where it hurt my hand afterwards. He held his burning cheek that was red. “You are an asshole Kayce John Dutton. I tell you that I’m pregnant and you say that you want nothing to do with me or this kid!”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m terrified as hell and you don’t have to keep the baby.” He grunted still holding his burning red cheek.

Shaking my head I spun on my feet walking away from him about to leave the ranch but I remembered that I left my jacket in the barn. Heading into the barn I grabbed it before I felt heavy tears falling down my face. Throwing my jacket I screamed just kicking the wooden wall with my boots so frustrated and heartbroken by what Kayce just said to me. Gripping my hair in my fingers I heard someone walking towards me. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again Kayce!”

“It’s not Kayce, it’s Lee.” Whipping my head around I slumped my shoulders recognizing his older brother coming towards me. He removed his tan brown hat noticing that I was sobbing through tears. “Hey what’s wrong honey?”

“I’m pregnant with your brothers child…it’s Kayce’s. But he..he just broke up with me and said he doesn’t want it. Lee I, I have no idea what to do next. I don’t think it’s right to abort the baby but otherwise I’m on my own now.” Wrapping my arms around myself I avoided his gaze sniffling through tears that hadn’t stopped coming.

Lee didn’t waste another second before he tugged me into his chest holding me tightly against him. He had one hand in my hair and the other down my back letting me cry into his shirt until I had got it all out and he had a plan inside his mind. He gently held my face in his hands wiping away the tears that had stayed on my cheek. “Y/n, this is what we’re going to do. Nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You and Kayce haven’t been showing off your relationship so we can pass the baby off as mine.”

“Oh Lee I can’t ask you to do that. I mean what if you find someone you actually care about and want to marry someone else someday.” I felt guilty that he might be giving something up to help me out.

The eldest Dutton pressed his forehead against mine not backing down from his plan. “You’re not asking I’m offering you this option. And maybe someday if we got closer we could marry and make this work better. Cause from where I’m standing you wouldn’t be the worst person to be married too.”

Lee and I hadn’t said a word since John was still staring at us waiting for an answer. We really didn’t know what to say to him, as far as he knew until now Lana was Lee’s daughter. Getting to my feet Lee followed my actions taking my hand with my wedding ring on it trying to tell me everything was going to be okay. “Dad, I just want you to know that it was my plan the whole time. Y/n came to me crying and in a panic. So I did whatever I thought would help her.”

“So what we’re saying is that you we’re right. Lana is actually Kayce’s daughter and William is Lee’s. Kayce said he wanted nothing to do with the baby and Lee offered me more than I could have imagined. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. I…we just thought it was better that no one knew the truth.” Moving my freehand around in front of me I felt a nervous pit in my stomach waiting for his answer.

John tapped his fingers on the armrests of the chair. “If you’re thinking I’d be angry you don’t have anything to be worried about. Regardless of who the birth father is they are each still my grandkids. I love Lana and William both equally.”

“Oh thank you. John I can’t thank you enough.” Covering my mouth with my hands I smiled through happy tears before I moved forward hugging my father in law.

He hugs me back smiling towards his eldest son. “You’re welcome Y/n…you did a good job son.”

We turned our heads seeing the two you kids running up the stairs bouncing around in front of us. Lana had slight curly hair that was the color of Kayce’s hair but she had my eye color. William had my hair color but he was given Lee’s eyes. “Mommy. Daddy, can we get some ice cream?” William asked spinning around in his tiny cowboy boots.

“If grandpa John says it’s okay.” Lee responded wrapping an arm around my waist tugging me into his side smiling down at them.

John tilted his head towards the inside of the house. “Go on kiddos. Just don’t eat too much before dinner.”

“Thank you, grandpa.” Lana ran away from her brother throwing her arms around her grandfather’s neck making him smile toward me and Lee silently telling us that both the kids would be good cowboys and cowgirls when they grow up.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[sehodreams]

RIIZE AS TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Hey guys, so I saw @///gyuvision doing this and I thought it was the cutest thing ever, she did it so well I couldn't stop thinking about them when I heard music, to be honest I wanted to assign an era to each one but I couldn't decide (except Shotaro, he's definitely 1989, and Anton, he's Lover), so if you like it I’ll try to do that one.

These are songs that make me think about each member when I listen to them, I had so much fun doing this, hope you all enjoy it too!

TW and tags: fluff (?), a bit of toxic!Eunseok, a touch of angst, mentions of first time with Anton but nothing explicit (by the way they’re 18/19), fwb(?)!Wonbin.

WC: 2.1K

Note: This is not dark at all, if you don’t like that kind of content, I don’t recommend you visit my blog.

SEUNGHAN - The Archer

He's been so hurt, and it's even more painful because the people who have been trying to sabotage him are mostly friends, ‘cause all of my enemies started as friends, this song always makes me think of him, and how vulnerable he must feel seeing pictures of his past all around the internet, ‘cause they see right through me, can you see right through me? I see right through me, also, how much he must have felt responsible for the group's reputation, scared of being an obstacle to all the boys and regretting his past, I never grew up, it's getting so old, I'm sure he'll always remember these hard times, I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, on invisible smoke, but I hope he learns how to be stronger from this and comes back safely to the group with the same, or a better, energy, combat, I'm ready for combat.

EUNSEOK - False God

Eunseok would give you the most intense love story of your life, with an energy that makes you forget about anything else that isn't him and you two together, I know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey hell is when I fight with you, however, I don’t think it’s a love that would last forever, you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it, they all warned us about times like this, they say the roads get hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith, and it doesn’t necessarily ends because you two don’t love each other anymore, but because of life circumstances and personalities, and I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town, still, a love like the one you two had was impossible to get over, it doesn’t matter how much you two have tried it, you want to be together again, but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you, but you're not good for each other anymore, and you can’t talk to me when I’m like this, daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you, so it becomes unstable, hard to maintain, a secret embarrassing to say out loud to others, but we might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, at least, you two feel satisfied with what you have, because the thought of not being together is more painful than proudly living alone, we’d still worship this love, still worship this love, even if it’s a false god.

SUNGCHAN - You Belong With Me

Sungchan makes me think of friends-to-lovers and mutual pinning, knowing each other all life, you two had to be friends first to start having feelings for each other, I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry, and I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams, but not daring to ruin your friendship, you try to forget it being with other people, hurting each other in the process, If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see?, both of you have unfulfilling relationships with people you don’t love and that do not love you, and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down, you say you're fine, I know you better than that, you two know it’s not going to work out because you two need each other to feel really happy, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be, laughing on a park bench thinking to myself ‘’Hey, isn't this easy?’’, so after much time, none of you can deny what you feel anymore, have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me?

SHOTARO - Shake It Off

My sweet boy reminds me of this song because he always brings positivity to whenever he is, But I keep cruising, can’t stop, won’t stop grooving, it’s like I got this music in my mind sayin’, ‘’It’s gonna be alright’’, his pretty smile makes you smile too, and even when the others say he can be scary while dancing, he works hard because he wants to give people the best out of him, and his skills are not just from talent, but from effort and passion, I never miss a beat, I’m lightnin’ on my feet, and that’s what they don’t see, he’s actually a pretty brave boy, grabbing every opportunity that appeared in front of him, following his love for dance and moving alone to Korea, I’m dancin’ on my own, I make the moves up as I go, and that’s what they don’t know, he got to work with NCT to then go to Riize, a risky decision that maybe wasn’t a choice to start, just think, while you’ve been getting’ down and out about the liars, and the dirty dirty cheats of the world, you could’ve been getting’ down to this sick beat, he's a strong boy, and doesn’t matter the obstacles that he sees, he’ll always overcome them and appreciate the process, ‘cause the players gonna play, and the haters gonna hate, baby I’m just gonna shake, shake it off, I shake it off.

Extra: And to the fella over there with the hella good hair, won’t you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake, is Shotaro calling Wonbin to dance together, lol.

SOHEE – Fearless

We all know the comments about Sohee growing up in a family that wasn’t as well positioned economically as the other members, I don’t want to confirm it, but taking that into mind, it makes me think that he comes from a place that, if he hadn’t worked so hard, would have made his dream stay just like that, a dream, there’s something about the way the street looks when it’s just rained, there’s a glow off the pavement, and that, apart from liking to sing, his dream of being a start was pushed by himself with the goal of helping his family get a better life, we’re drivin down the road, I wonder if you know I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now, but you’re so cool, run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you, always remembering where he comes from and all the support he had, he has values not many do, in this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here, in this passenger’s seat, you put your eyes on me, in this moment now, capture it, remember it, he already met his first goal, debuting, and he’s slowly getting used to a different lifestyle, you pull me in and I’m a little more brave, it’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless, he took a hard decision for anyone in his circumstances and he’s finally seeing results, but he doesn’t take it for granted and continues working hard every day, ‘cause I don’t know how it gets better than this, you take my hand and drag me head first, fearless, showing how courageous he is and how he’ll never stop improving, because fear is not an impediment for him, and I don’t know why but with you, I’d dance, in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

ANTON - Cruel Summer

Anton is summer love, seeing each other again after many years, you two can’t remember how you used to look when you were younger, enjoying meeting as if it was the first time again, but this time, you can’t just be friends anymore, killing me slow, out the window, I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below, doing new things, things you never imagined before, you enjoy exploring a different side of yourself, devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, tanned skin, friendship bracelets, the ocean and ice creams in the middle of the night, everything is pure pleasure around you two, what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more, everyone tells you to be careful, because summer will have an end, and you know it, so you decide to get the best out of it, sneaking out and having as many experiences together as possible, It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em, no rules, in breakable heaven, stealing cheap beers and whisky from your parents to then get sick because you two are too young to know how to hold your liquor, I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar, you don’t want to admit it, but you think you’re the one who is more in love between you two, which hurts, said, ‘’I’m fine’’, but it wasn’t true, I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you, you believe you’re the one who is making most of the effort, risking things you never thought you’d before, and I snuck in through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate, and you thought he didn’t know about your feelings, but of course he did, who else would give as many things as you did? and I screamed for whatever is worth, ‘’I love you’’, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?, however, to your surprise, you find out you weren’t the one who was more in love, he looks up grinning like a devil, and, even if it ends, you two give each other all the first times anyone could ever wish, and It’s new, the shape of your body, so it’s cruel, but it’s the best summer, it’s blue, the feeling I’ve got, and it’s ooh, whoa, oh it’s a cruel summer.

WONBIN - I Think He Knows

Falling for Wonbin is easy, he draws people to him without even trying, so of course you’re one of his victims too, his footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can’t stop, go there every night, just to have him near you was enough to enchant you, following him with your eyes all night, you can’t help but go to him, his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine, you’re the one who has to start the interaction, and even if you weren’t used to it, you did it, pushing the fear of rejection aside, seeing a man like him was unusual, and you had to shoot your shot, he got that boyish look that I like in a man, it wasn’t as hard as you thought, with confidence, and a weak strategy, you caught his attention too, I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans, a bit awkward at first, you being the one getting close first made you feel like a young kid running behind her crush again, it’s like I’m 17, nobody understands, no one understands, but you liked it, the nervous eyes, the heart beating, the hands sweating, it was something exciting that reminded you of good times, he got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue, but you weren’t a child anymore, that interaction wouldn’t end with you two holding hands, and with him reciprocating the energy, you felt it coming, got that, ah, I mean, wanna see what’s under that attitude, like, I want you, bless my soul, and I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows, and unlike the meeting, the touches weren’t awkward at all, both of you perfectly knowing what to do to satisfy each other, when we get all alone, I’ll make myself at home, and he’ll want me to stay, but you knew his type, and he knew yours, or so he thought, because after a couple of meetings and getting to know the real you, I think he knows he’d better lock it down or I won’t stick around, ‘cause good ones never wait, he didn’t want to let you go anymore, he’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand, boy I understand, he was new to approaching someone, always being the approached one, but again, with a bit of your help, everything was possible, lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we could follow the sparks, I’ll drive, and just like falling for him, being with him was easy too, because after you showed him the path, he knew what to do, ‘’So where we gonna go?’’ I whisper in the dark, ‘’Where we gonna go?’’ I think he knows.

[amongdestiny-qu33n]

Welcome to the crew!!

Hey! This is Prime! This is a little get-to-know for me, the characters, and the AU itself!!

My other ask-blog AU: @ask-the-amongus-retrieve-au

My best friends: @indigoblu2, @trippin-chippin, @meow-and-ink-demon, @thedrsteven

We are SO excited!! Here it is, read the whole thing so you know what and what not to do and who the characters are!!

Story: The Crewmates and Imposters go onto Skeld, looking for a new planet to call home due to the fact Earth is dying because of pollution, earthquakes, etc. And when the crew boards, the scanners pick up Alien DNA, but the announcement shuts off before they can say who’s an imposter. So you as the readers and interactors have to help them find the imposters and vote them off before they get to the new planet; where there will be 8 more characters waiting. You as the interactors will also decide challenges in polls and can help do tasks by telling certain characters they’re tasks they need to fulfill. You also can help them by giving them hints towards imposters, can’t be too obvious though or you’ll be voted off!!

Characters:

Frost (Crewmate) and Flower (Imposter) belong to: @meow-artist-cat (on break)

Yellow Fever (Crewmate) and Dani (Imposter) belong to: @trippin-chippin

Bronze (Crewmate) and Wine (Imposter) belong to: @cutecrewmates (Me)

Flik and Maple are by: @indigoblu2

Joe & Millie are by: @thedrsteven

REMEMBER: THIS IS FOR FUN!!!

Rules: No bullying, harassment, telling who the imposters are, or any kind of sexual or harmful activity on this blog. Or you’ll be blocked, including your side blogs.

People in it: @thedrsteven, @trippin-chippin, @meow70-marsmalow, @indigoblu2 and @cutecrewmates (Me)

ASK AWAY! INBOX IS OPEN FOR QUESTIONS TOWARDS THE CHARACTERS!!!

Edit: To see the entire thing, type in the search bar in our profile, “Rip Crewmates” and you’ll find all the asks and comics! I’ll (Prime) be posting non-AU related content as well, BUT, I won’t tag it as “Rip Crewmates”!! So you can see the real stuff.

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 19 Premium Story

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam’s fingers were trembling slightly, and yet he was still smiling like it was nothing.

It was sad, tragic, and helplessly pitiable.

I reached my hand out and gently touched Liam’s smiling face.

Liam: … Kate?

Kate: … Liam, please don't smile.

Kate: Forcing a smile is an act of kindness towards the people around you, but you’re not being kind to yourself.

Liam: That’s… what I said to you before.

Kate: … That’s right. You said that to me, and yet you’re trying so hard to smile.

From the moment we met, Liam had told me many things and treated me with kindness.

I was saved by him, who told me with a carefree smile that the real me is precious.

(I wanted to help people bravely face what their tomorrow would bring.)

(But I couldn't erase the fears of the person who meant the most to me and was right in front of me.)

I felt guilty, but I knew that regret would do nothing to make things better.

— That’s enough.

If that’s the case, then all I can do is look into his eyes and say it over and over again.

Kate: … Hey, Liam. The world has never been kind to you, has it?

I remembered the way his face looked when he was talking while he stared at the crimson sky.

= Flashback Start =

Liam: Sometimes, I wish that all the sad things in the world will disappear.

Liam: How nice would it be if this were a world where no one has to shed a tear.

Liam: I’m not as intelligent as Will or Harry, so I don't know the complications, but…

Liam: Perhaps deep down in my heart, I wondered if such a world would exist after “fighting evil with evil”.

= Flashback End =

(You know more than anyone else that the world will never be free from sadness, and yet you still hoped for it.)

(This is the kind of person you are.)

Kate: Truthfully speaking, I want to make your world a kinder place.

Liam: … Make my world kinder?

Kate: Yes. I want to turn it into a world where not a single painful thing exists, and nothing can hurt you.

Kate: However, as much as I really want to do that… I can’t.

(Because I can’t change what has already happened in the past.)

(Your curse and episodes may never disappear.)

For the rest of his life, Liam had to live with the core of heart battered and crumbling.

Liam may not see life as a figure of hope, but rather a figure of hopelessness.

Kate: The world may not always be kind to you.

Kate: Living in such a world might be harder for you to do than anything else.

I held Liam’s hand that was trembling on the bed.

Kate: However…

Kate: I don’t regret saving your life that night.

Liam: …

Kate: And I won’t ever regret it. Absolutely not.

Liam’s eyes widened and his brows knitted together.

Liam: … You will.

Liam: You have to regret it… it’s useless. Kate. Think about it, why did you save someone like me!

When I shook my head in response, Liam gasped like he was getting anxious.

Liam: I just told you how horrible I can get when I’m having an episode.

Liam: And haven't you personally witnessed me doing something terrifying? You were even soaked in blood…

Kate: Yeah. … I remember that clearly.

Liam: Then… why?

The longer I stared at Liam, the more his eyes shook anxiously like those of a lost child.

Even so, I couldn't look away.

Liam: Right. Do you know that when I first approached you, it was only for my own benefit?

Liam: I just wanted to be needed by you, so I could feel good about myself. It wasn't out of kindness, it was because of my twisted desire to be acknowledged.

Kate: … That’s how you saw it, but it was kindness to me.

Liam: …

Liam: And also… I can’t taste anything I eat, I can’t sleep well at night either. Haha… I’m truly broken beyond repair.

Liam: I’m right next to you, even though I don't deserve you. And yet, I was the one who got close to you in the first place… how ironic.

Liam: … I know for sure that I’ll end up hurting you if I stay by your side any longer, Kate.

Liam: To me, that…

Liam: … Scares me more than hurting myself.

Liam: I’ll fall into despair again if I hurt you and see your sad face.

Liam: Everything, all of it, they scare me…

(Ah…)

(Liam is so willing to hurt himself in order to protect me.)

(He’s used to being hurt, alone, and unloved.)

(It’s… so extreme.)

And Liam’s heart would always be lonely and hurt.

(If you're keeping me away from you to protect me, then I’ll protect you by getting closer to you.)

Words weren't enough to express my feelings, so I gently pressed my lips to the back of Liam’s hand that I was still holding in mine.

His hand quivered, and I heard him gasp.

Liam: … Kate… what are you doing…

I looked up to see Liam staring at me in fear.

I cupped his cheeks in my hands and pressed two kisses on his eyelids, in hopes that I could get rid of the fears hidden behind those eyes, even just a little.

Liam: Kate…

Then his rose coloured hair.

His beautifully shaped ears.

And his cheeks where his long eyelashes cast shadows on.

Kate: … Liam, look at me.

Liam: … Mm.

Our eyes met, and then our lips.

I slowly broke the kiss and to stop Liam from disappearing, I gently trapped him in my embrace.

Kate: You said that you hurt me, but I’m certain that I’ll hurt you as well.

To be deeply in love with someone can also mean hurting them.

Kate: Not just right now, but from this moment on, over and over again.

Kate: It’s not possible to be together with someone without ever hurting them. Therefore…

Liam: …?

Kate: Can we look each other in the eyes, talk it out, and start over whenever that happens?

Kate: Can we live in the present moment together, and look forward to our tomorrows…?

Liam: Tomorrow…?

(Because you said that you liked how I’m always looking forward to tomorrow.)

Kate: Yes. If you’re scared of what your tomorrows will bring…

Kate: Then, starting from tomorrow, I’ll always be reaching out to you.

(It doesn't matter if it’s merely a show of courage. I believe in tomorrow and I will look forward to it.)

Kate: Therefore…

Kate: Please live.

Liam: …

Kate: For me, who loves you.

(And someday… for yourself.)

Liam: You’re… being too nice to me…

Liam hesitantly wrapped his arms around me and returned the hug.

When I reach my hand out to him starting tomorrow, he might still not hold it.

However,

I felt that having my hand serve as a sign of hope was the only way.

[mainstoryarchive]

Revolution - 57: Domination

Translator: Creampuffs

Keito: *Pant, wheeze*

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Auditorium

Keito: *Pant, wheeze*

Sorry. Wait a minute, Kanzaki. I’m not very athletic – give me fifteen seconds to breathe. I–I’m going to die.

Souma: Oh? I did not know you were so feeble, Hasumi-dono. You should take up martial arts like myself and Kiryu-dono. It is a young man’s honour to train oneself…

Keito: Ugh, don’t lump me with you two muscle-loving humans. I don’t need more stamina and physical strength than necessary.

But what is going on?

Souma: A picture is worth a thousand words. Take a look yourself, Hasumi-dono!

Keito: Hm…?

W-What is this…?

Why is there music playing? Who is performing?

Keito: (No. I need to keep calm. Take deep breaths.)

(I’m not good at handling unexpected situations, but I can’t complain right now. I need to make quick decisions and come up with the appropriate measures.)

(Something bad is happening. If I don’t handle this right, then I might end up making a big blunder.)

(Majority of the units will not be participating in today’s “S1”…)

So the only ones performing today should only be us, “AKATSUKI”, and that new second-year unit that appeared out of nowhere.

Souma: Indeed. I think they are called "Torrikusutaa". The unit members are my classmates.

But they are not the ones currently on stage.

I do not remember seeing them before, but who are they?

Keito: Hmm…? Wait, I’m not wearing my glasses properly.

And what’s with this crowd? There are far too many people here.

I can’t see in front of me. There’s not enough lighting – it’s basically pitch-black in here. I can’t see a thing…!

Souma: I shall cut open a path. Proceed towards the stage, Hasumi-dono.

Souma: Ayee, make way, make way! Step aside – those who obstruct our path shall be cut down without mercy!

Keito: Don’t cut anyone down, Kanzaki. How many times have I told you not to bring swords into the auditorium?

I’ve only turned a blind eye because you’re a member of “AKATSUKI”, you know?

Souma: But a katana is the soul of a samurai!

Keito: You’re an idol, not a samurai. This is not the time to be bickering… We shouldn’t be doing this, but we’re going to climb up on stage!

Souma: Give me your hand, Hasumi-dono. I shall climb up first and then pull you up! Up you come!

Keito: Woah… You’re too rough – reflect on your actions. I’ll be lecturing you later, Kanzaki.

In any case, you lot! What’s with this commotion? It’s against the school rules to hold unauthorised performances!

I, the vice president of the Student Council, denounce you so! Stop the performance immediately!

Kuro: Yo.

You sure took your sweet time, Hasumi no Danna.

Thanks for coming here in haste. But these guys probably won’t listen even if you yell at them without giving them a chance to explain themselves.

Keito: Kiryu. You knew that non-participants would make an appearance during today’s “S1”, didn’t you?

Kuro: I still ain’t happy about how the “Dragon King Competition” got cancelled, you know. I stick to my ethics – I’m a member of “AKATSUKI”, too.

I’ll fulfil my duty. Anyway, now isn’t the time to be worrying about me, right?

Look, it seems the gate to hell has been opened. Looks like that rowdy bunch are going on a rampage on stage.

Koga: Kuhahaha! Shake to your very core, ignorant fools! Today’s “S1” belongs to us!

We ain’t gonna let’cha go home until your eardrums burst! You’re gonna listen to our songs whether it’s in your dreams or in the afterlife…!

Kaoru: Sorry, Four-Eyes~ You were taking so long, so we decided to start without you.

I’m making every single girl here mine ♪

Kaoru: All the girls who have come a long way to be here!

I kept my skills a secret because it’d be a waste to show it to the male students at school. But today, I’ll show you what I’m like when I’m serious!

You’re welcome to fall in love with me as much as you like, okay~? ☆

Adonis: …………

Koga: Hey, Adonis! You should say somethin’, too!

The audience loves stuff like that. Lemme hear your battle cry! Get the crowd pumped up!

Adonis: …I’m not good at talking. In exchange, I’ll make it up by performing as “UNDEAD”.

[ ☆ ]

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[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 11: Split

(Disclaimer: the characters here do not belong to me. Both Wilford Warfstache and William J. Barnum/The Colonel belong to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe.)

(Please note that the concept this story revolves around isn’t something I originally came up with. That honor goes to @ghiertor-the-gigapeen, who posted this amazing piece of art last October! Please check out their blog and show them some love!!!)

(Trigger Warnings: descriptions of body horror, blood/gore, fear/panic, trauma/flashbacks, pain and suffering, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 12 Day 13

“Say, have you ever tried your hand at writing?” Wilford casually inquires, titling his head and pressing his index finger against his temple. 

You hum at the question, wracking your brain. “I’m. . .not sure, honestly. I mean, I probably have at some point, but all the conflicting timelines make it hard to tell.” There’s a generous amount of sarcasm in your voice. So much, in fact, that you have to concentrate on emphasizing the right words.

Of course, Wilford’s response is an overexaggerated quirk of his lips, his eyes as thoughtful as they are mischievous. “True, true, very true. Sometimes you wish those pesky timelines would just fit in your hands so you could organize them to your taste.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you reply, tone dry enough to make Death Valley look rather lush. 

“BUT,” Wilford, never to not have the last word, continues. “If you could do that, then you wouldn’t really be able to have any more adventures. You wouldn’t get to be surprised or horrified! Things would go from challenging and unforgettable to. . .thoughtless and predictable. Sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate whatever comes to grip at your mind or heart!”

His hands are a blur as he throws out one dramatic gesture after another. His expressions follow suite, obviously. Even so, the conniving ember in his eyes never completely fades away. In fact, that ember seems to glow a bit brighter as he finally returns to sitting still and staring at you. “True beauty really lies in thrill, my friend. There’s just no two ways about it!”

You don’t bother trying to suppress an eye-roll. . .and yet a small, genuine smile still manages to fight its way onto your face. Wilford’s statement is partially undeniable. Sure, you’ve been through hell and back, but you saw so many things along the way. You’ve met all sorts of people. The scenarios you keep finding yourself in are literally anything and everything but boring. 

Yes, your existence and abilities have proven to be a curse. . .but that curse has still shaped itself into a gift more times than you can count. 

That’s why you rang that little call-bell: to be taken here to this studio in order to see this insane, frustrating, omnipotent journalist who you (somehow) still have a soft spot for.

“. . .Y’know, I can’t remember the last time you were so specific with your questions,” you point out, leaning back in your provided chair. “What made you bring up writing, of all things?” 

Wilford tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsks at you, raising an eyebrow so high that it could potentially need a drug test. “Sounds like someone has forgotten who’s the interviewer and who’s the interviewee.” 

You spread your arms in a small lame gesture, making sure that your eyes help your incredulousness to be palpable. “Hey, listen. One of these days, the roles are gonna be reversed. MARK my words. I’ll be damned if that doesn’t happen at least once.”

“You make a good argument; there’s a chance something like that has already happened,” Wilford admits. He drags out a conspiratory hum for about ten seconds or so, slipping off his pink afro and fidgeting with it. “Well, writers can be a bit of a rare breed nowadays. They’re plentiful if you’re exploring the right circles, but even then, many are still so shy about their work.” 

“Can’t really blame them for that,” you reply. “Not with how unfair the industries have gotten.”

“Oh, don’t I know it!” Wilford huffs a mirthless laugh. “I used to write for the odd column and blog or two. The readers were lovely, but lemme tell you—”

“The higher-ups were not?” You guess with an empathetic smile, just barely noticing how he’s started to squirm in his seat. 

Wilford groans in exasperation. “Don’t even get me started. They turned their noses up at so many things, you’d think they were each three tapirs in a trenchcoat! I remember thinking, ‘If they’re so desperate for cookie-cut stories to have complete control over, then why don’t they just write these goddamn stories themselves?!’’’

You don’t blink: partially because your eyes aren’t dry, and partially because, if you had, you would’ve missed the mixture of sadness and frustration that just flickered on Wilford’s face. It was a tiny amount, and it’s already been beaten into submission by his trademark coyness. 

But it was genuine. 

“. . .I can tell you why,” you declare. “Because writing requires patience and effort and thought. Heart, too. And in my experience, it’d be a miracle for an employer to have at least one of those things.”

Wilford’s eyes ever-so-slightly widen as your words sink in. Something warm and appreciative etches its way into the smile he’s wearing. 

“Words to live by,” he announces with a proud nod. “I don’t think I ever saw anything like that in my old head-honchos. It was always, ‘ThErE’s No WaY wE cAn PuBlIsH tHiS wItHoUt CeNsOrInG hAlF oF iT.’ ‘jUsT bEcAuSe ThE rEaDeRs LeAvE fEeDbAcK DoEsN’t MeAn YoU cAn InTeRaCt WiTh ThEm.’ ‘OuR sHaReHoLdErS wIlL bE oFfEnDeD bY tHiS.’ ‘rEaDeRs DoN’t NeEd To KnOw AbOuT tHaT.’ ‘wHeRe DiD yOu GeT tHaT kNiFe?’ ‘WhAt ThE hElL aRe YoU dOiNg?’ ‘I’m CaLlInG tHe PoLiCe YoU mAnIaC!’”

The droning pitch he’d put on falls away as he collapses into a fit of chuckling.

You, meanwhile, force out an awkward cough to try and hide the nervous grimace that has crawled into your features.

Even if Wilford is an old friend, even if his heart is sometimes in the right place, you can’t afford to forget that his brain is not. That it hasn’t been for a long time now. And it will probably never be anywhere near the right place again.

Not only that, but the longer you listen to Wilford’s giggling, the more you realize just how. . .off it sounds. As though Wilford’s voice is layered; like something else is trying to worm its way up through his bubbly tone.

“And those trials were just in the world of journalism,” Wilford continues once the hilarity finally dies down. “I can hardly imagine what writers in more creative circles have to go through.”

For seemingly no reason, that statement prompts a tidal wave of adrenaline to come rushing through you. 

“Simply taking notes of things in reality can be so difficult. Just think about how long it’s taken for us to make some actual progress with this interview,” Wilford muses, gesturing to all the twinkling lights that decorate his studio. “But how could that struggle even compare to someone creating an entire world of their own? Birth is already one of the most traumatic things a person is capable of, and that’s just when it happens on the outside. So it’s astounding that anyone can survive birthing so many things inside their little head!” 

Perhaps to drive the point home, he lightly raps his knuckles against his forehead as he returns his pink afro to its rightful place. 

“Could’ve gone my whole life without hearing that analogy,” you blurt. 

“No, I don’t think you could’ve,” Wilford whispers. 

You glare at him as an uncomfortable, oily energy slithers along your ribcage. The fact that Wilford is now visibly shaking doesn’t help. 

“Are. . .are you okay, Wil?” You wonder aloud, your irritation slowly but surely leaning toward paranoia. 

“Peachy!” Wilford answers, gesturing toward his face with a flourish. “Why, does this not look like the face of someone who’s peachy?”

You attempt not to cringe too hard as you offer one of those nod-shrugs, gingerly poking the skin beneath your eyes.

Wilford’s expression contorts with confusion. He rises to stand on the seat of his chair, reaching up toward the ceiling. After producing a hand mirror from somewhere you can’t see, he sits back down and peers at his reflection.

Of course, he doesn’t react to the sight of blood oozing down his cheeks from his tear ducts like most people would. Instead of screaming or fainting or trying to pluck his eyes out in order to keep whatever curse they may or may not be harboring from infecting the rest of his body, Wilford casually tosses the mirror over his shoulder, not acknowledging the sound of glass shattering as he fishes a handkerchief from one of his pockets. 

“Meh, it’s a wednesday. You know how wednesdays are,” Wilford mentions as he begins scrubbing at the small, dark red rivers. 

“I’m not so sure I do,” you murmur. 

You consider suggesting to pause the interview here with an oath to resume it some other day. . .but that consideration evaporates when you remember exactly what happened the last time this interview was interrupted. Gunshots echo between your ears, and your heart more or less threatens to start palpitating. 

Hell, you’re already expecting this interview to be cut short sooner or later; it’s had to be delayed at least sixty-nine thousand, four-hundred-twenty times by now, if memory serves (though, let’s be honest, it probably doesn’t). 

But despite everything you’ve gone through up until this point, you still trust your instincts.

Which are currently screaming at you to not be the thing that prompts the inevitable next raincheck.

Plus, while one part of you is worried for Wilford’s wellbeing, the other part of you knows that it doesn’t matter. This is Wilford Warfstache we’re talking about. Even if he got mauled by a hippopotamus fueled by copious amount of acid and maliciously-intended vibes, he’d still find a way to continue existing with a chipper, knowing smile. 

“Now, where were we?” Wilford inquires. You don’t know why, because he immediately snaps his fingers. “Ah, yes! Writing!”

Seeing that his face is clean once again, he throws the now bloodstained handkerchief into the air, where it quickly flutters down to join the broken mirror somewhere on the floor behind his chair. 

“Well, I’ve already rambled on about my adventures with that. Please, tell me more about your thoughts on writing. You know I’d love to hear them!”

“Is that why you booked me for this? And here I was, thinking you just wanted me to sit here and look handsome and/or beautiful!” You joke, hoping to distract yourself from the dread that’s just started festering in your stomach.

Wilford chortles at that. And although the sound almost unveils some happy memories, you can still tell that he’s acutely aware of aforementioned dread.

You chew your lip, thinking.

By the time you’re able to predict what that question could lead to, it’ll probably be too late.

Might as well be honest with your answer, then. 

“I think writing is pretty incredible,” you pronounce. “Some people try to say it isn’t a real type of art, and I’ll never be able to understand why. Like you just said: it’s always so much harder and scarier to do than it’s given credit for. It takes the same amount of energy and care to write as it does to sculpt or paint or sew.”

The words seem to make Wilford grow more excited. “Speaking of which: don’t you just love it when different types of artists work together? I’m always seeing writers basing plot elements off of drawings and drafters sketching out scenes from stories. That camaraderie is one of the best kinds, I think. Reminds me of how wolves and crows help each other hunt.”

“Exactly!” You reply. “Writers and other artists do wonderful stuff like that all the time! Just because they can! And—”

You abruptly trail off, the chemicals in your brain rerouting themselves before they even have a chance to signal more happiness. 

“And. . ?” Wilford prompts, watching you curiously.

“. . .And they barely get any appreciation,” you eventually resume, feeling your face drop. “It’s just so. . .depressing that creative people can’t rely on their craft. Don’t get me wrong, some of them get lucky, but most. . .no matter how hard they practice or research, no matter how much time they spend polishing their projects. . .they still end up having so little to show for it.”

“Such a damn shame,” Wilford agrees, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

Your gaze wandered down to the floor during your little monologue, so you can’t help but flinch when Wilford pats you on the shoulder. 

The gesture isn’t forceful—it’s not like he’s digging his nails through your shirt—but nothing could’ve prepared you for how hot the skin of his palm feels. Wilford’s hand retracts quickly enough, but the heat lingers, racing down your arm as though some invisible person accidentally spilled a translucent cup of fresh-outta-the-pot, wraithlike coffee onto you.

(I’ve read/heard plenty of symbolism that involves boiling blood, but this is ridiculous.)

A gasp catches in your throat as you return your attention to Wilford. 

He almost resembles a celebrity who, thanks to the power of hubris and a little too much xanax, drowned in their backyard swimming pool. . .Well, really, that’s just because of his clothes; if he wasn’t dressed in a bowtie and button-down (which looks suspiciously like silk), he’d probably look like the average corpse that was just pulled out of a river. Minus the awful bloating that always comes with underwater decay, that is. 

You’d only looked away from him for a moment.

How the hell could someone’s skin turn so sickly pale in such short time?

“If there are any artists watching tonight, I’m sure you’ve made them get a little misty,” Wilford reMARKs, reaching up to wipe a single tear from the corner of his left eye. “But that doesn’t mean they have to worry. One way or another, the arts will get more respect in the future.”

“. . .You think so?” You’re not exactly sure where that question came from, but you know better than to stay silent. Besides, you can’t be blamed for having let a mite of pessimism creep into your attitude over the years.

“I know so!” Wilford promises. “So long as a virtuoso shows off what they can do, there’ll always, always be a number of admirers in their corner.” 

You nod without hesitation. It’s impossible to disagree with that sentiment. In fact, you almost start to wonder if whatever the hell has been happening to Wilford throughout this conversation is about to reverse itself. . .

“Though, I have to wonder,” Wilford maintains, glancing over at nothing in particular with a wry, thoughtful smirk. “Could what you just talked about be the reason for the current shift in creative circles?”

(Aaaaannnd that’s why you almost got hopeful.)

“‘Shift?’” You echo. “What do you mean by that?”

You already know, of course. But you also know that Wilford is nothing if not a theatrical bastard. You’ve already played along with whatever has been building up for the past few minutes, so why stop now?

“Well, it seems like the majority of artists celebrate Halloween all year ‘round,” Wilford explains. “Drawings and sculptures of monsters, stories full of insanity, the whole shebang. I’m certainly not complaining, and neither are all those admirers I mentioned. But. . .do you think an artist’s frustration is what causes them to serve muses on the darker side of the spectrum?”

You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the fact that someone out there is probably rolling their eyes and muttering, “i’M fOuRtEeN aNd ThIs Is DeEp.”

(Then again, everything you and Wilford just said is completely valid, so that judgemental prick can just fuck off.)

“I guess it can, in a lot of cases,” you answer. “It’s amazing how many unique ways artists can go about symbolizing those struggles. Even so, a lot of artists focus on twisted aspects just because they see things in ways that other people might not. Just because of their individual personalities.”

“Of course, of course,” Wilford subscribes. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that!”

A sharp, muffled pop called from somewhere in his chest. It’s followed by another. . .and another. . .and another, until a chorus of organic cracking and stretching and clicking threatens to drown out Wilford’s voice. 

Wilford doesn’t seem unbothered perse, but to his credit, he doesn’t let the cacophony stop him. 

“I suppose my instincts as a journalist drove that question,” Wilford muses. “I’ve found myself working with the whole ‘If it bleeds, it leads,’ shtick so many times. But only because. . .”

A violent twitch—the same type that so many people experience in their sleep, and the same type that would render those people unable to ever sleep again if they managed to see a recording of it—wracks his body.

“. . .it works. . .”

He barely had enough time to give you a wink before his eyes practically bulge from their sockets and roll into the back of his head, one after the other. 

“. . .so damn well!”

The skin of his cheeks neatly tears as his smile stretches wider than humanly possible, to the point where he’s quite literally grinning from ear-to-ear.

A strange outline appears in his shirt, trying to push out from underneath the fabric.

Except, it’s not underneath the fabric. 

You can do nothing but watch as the shape moves upward, causing Wilford’s neck to distend. His skin ripples in a way that reminds you of a sea krait swimming close to the surface without actually breaking it. As it gathers in Wilford’s head, the silhouette starts writhing. The movement is frantic. Desperate. Like an animal caught in some kind of trap.

All the while, Wilford’s new, eerie simper never falls away. 

Not even when his features are forced to swell and quiver, as though his skull is tearing itself apart.

Plltk-Sssquiiwrrrlrlct!

One half of Wilford’s face pulls away from the other, like a seam running down the center has burst. 

In a matter of seconds, the rift races down, splitting Wilford’s throat and torso open. 

Gravity attempts to drag the fleshy fractions even farther apart, but by some odd miracle, both Wilford’s afro and bowtie staunchly refuse to be divided like the rest of him. 

So, that means the two halves of Warfstache are hanging in place, only connected by thick, glistening strands of dark pink blood. 

You jerk away so aggressively that it’s a wonder your chair doesn’t tip over. Your stomach roils in a painful way, and a shuddering, terrified cry slithers up your throat and out between your teeth. You automatically fight to close your gaping mouth for fear that something much more solid than a scream might spill out next.

Surprisingly enough, nothing like that happens. 

But perhaps that’s because you haven’t seen the worst of this yet.

(Don’t hold your breath. You’re about to.)

As you stare and scream, you finally realize that. . .you can’t see through the gory chasm of Wilford. 

There’s something caught between the awful ratios of Wilford.

. . .No, not something.

Someone.

Someone who’s dressed in a tan military uniform, along with a pair of spectacles that boast dual loupes on that right lens. 

Someone whose screams make it clear that he speaks with an accent similar to Wilford’s.

Someone who you recognize. . .and, who seems to recognize you as well.

“H-Help me! PLEASE, HELP ME!” The Colonel wails, the fingers of his right hand curling around Wilford’s lower jaw, struggling for purpose. “I CAN’T GO BACK! DON’T MAKE ME GO BACK!”

You don’t respond. 

How the hell could you respond?

It’s one thing to watch a friend’s body spontaneously split itself apart like their skeleton is a bloodsoaked butterfly emerging from a horrific meat-chrysalis.

It’s another thing entirely to watch a friend’s former self shriek and thrash and beg via an unnecessarily brutal rebirthing process for no actual reason. 

“I-I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!” The Colonel howls—if it wasn’t for his volume, the words would have leaked out in a choked sob. “I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT! I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO IT! I SWEAR—!”

Wilford, meanwhile, is still grinning that sly, too-wide grin. He isn’t showing any signs of pain. You can’t tell whether or not he’d known that this was going to happen.

The Colonel manages to free his left arm from its organic confines. He frantically claws at the air, obviously trying to reach out to you, pleading for you to take his hand and pull him out.

The way your eyes are burning nearly rivals the searing ache in your chest.

You want to help him.

The voices in your head are demanding that you help him.

But you can’t. 

To put it simply, what’s done is done. Even Wilford’s bizarre powers are incapable of reversing what happened in that godforsaken manor all those years ago. 

The Colonel does not exist anymore.

You know that. . .

He knows that. . .

. . .And Wilford knows that.

Still grinning, Wilford raises his arms. With a loud criIiIiIck, they grow. In a manner of seconds, they boast a similar appearance to long, narrow tree branches. Each of his fingers follow suite—now it’s difficult to see them as anything other than talons. 

Wilford’s left hand is a blur as it snatches The Colonel’s wrist in a vice-like grip. His right hand reaches around to clamp down on The Colonel’s head.

Understandably, The Colonel isn’t having it. He writhes with twice as much panic as before. “DAMIEN! CELINE! WHERE ARE THEY?! I NEED TO FIND THEM!”

Wilford’s grin spasms. His knuckles turn white as he digs his nails into The Colonel’s scalp. When that doesn’t seem to work, he does what he does best: up the ante with no regard for anything. 

It’s hard to believe that you can hear the sound of glass splintering through The Colonel’s shouting, as Wilford’s index finger jabs through the left lens of his spectacles. 

In comparison, the squelching noise The Colonel’s eye makes as Wilford’s finger is driven into it is almost deafening. 

The Colonel buckles under the new, white-hot pain he must be feeling. His screams reach a truly heart-stopping octave as blood oozes down his cheek.

Instinct seems to take over, seeing as The Colonel’s arm finally retracts, as he attempts to apply pressure to his punctured eye.

There’s really no point, though. It’s not like he has time to stop the bleeding. 

To a chorus of snapping bones, Wilford shoves The Colonel down.

The Colonel’s torso as a whole seems to cave in.

All this time, Wilford’s hot-pink blood has been fountaining onto the floor—you’ve had to cross your legs on your chair to keep your shoes from getting drenched—but as you glance down, you notice that the puddle has stopped spreading. It stays still for a second or two. . .and then it starts rolling back in the direction it came. It glides up Wilford’s legs, and back into his chest, your eyes following it all the while. 

And now the blood seems to be more than just a liquid. It’s coiling around The Colonel like a nest of snakes, binding his arms, encircling his neck. It drags him deeper, obscuring his form until you can barely see his face.

“NO! NO!” The Colonel screams. He can’t struggle anymore, but you know better than anyone just how much of a bitch adrenaline can be. “I CAN’T—!”

It looks like the two halves of Warfstache have finally worked out their differences, because they meet one another with a sickening Ssshlift-pop. 

Wilford’s skin trembles. 

The line running down the center of his face, his throat, his chest. . .it just. . .seals itself shut. As though it’s a new type of magnetic clay. 

After a millisecond, that line itself disappears. It doesn’t even scar over. 

It’s just gone.

Just like that, a whole Wilford Warfstache is sitting before you once again. 

Like nothing even happened.

The next moment feels like several hours as you stare at Wilford, bracing yourself for something else to happen as hot, fat tears stream down your features. 

Wilford’s eyes roll back into place, milky white scleras finally being replaced by his warm, dark brown irises. 

That damn grin finally wavers as he blinks, shaking his head like he’s just woken up from a fever dream.

“Ah—I’m sorry,” Wilford announces, carefully kneading at his forehead. “I must’ve zoned out for a bit.” He glances at his wristwatch, raising an eyebrow. “Strange. . .the longer daydreams usually only happen on the thirteenth. Perhaps something else will be going on then? I know I had a lot of things lined up for the thirteenth in January, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I got around to them. . .unless I did, of course. In which case we might have a few problems.”

Wilford trails off as he finally notices that you’re still here. 

“. . .Are we going to have to reschedule again? No offense, but you’re looking a bit green around the gills.”

You collapse against the back of your chair, not even registering how the world spins. Not that registering is an option; darkness is quick to swallow up everything within eyesight.

(Really? You’re fainting now?)

Somehow, you still manage to hear Wilford’s voice, which seems to echo as he concludes, “I’ll take that as a yes,” with a melodramatic sigh.

@sammys-magical-au

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #6

Hey guys! As some of may know I do a weekly radioshow on Wednesdays and I thought why not put together a prompt list from some of the songs I’ve been playing. I thought it would bring some fresh prompts into our world!

Feel free to pop any of these prompts with a charcter I write for (You can find these on the pinned post on my blog) into my ASK box!

1.      won't let me see this side of you

2.      You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do

3.      I'm drinking tonight, gonna give up the fight

4.      turning me on Like a slow fire burn

5.      I choke back tears 'til I damn near drown

6.      You're not gonna make it

7.      Loveless nights, they seem so long I know that I'll hold you someday.

8.      We still talk like everyday But we don't talk in the same way that we used to

9.      This is the last time you say After the last line you break

10.   He pulled you closer, said he'll never let go

11.   And if only I could find the words Or muster up the nerve to tell her

12.   Can't keep my hands to myself

13.    the ghost of my sin

14.   But till you come back where you belong It's just another lonely Sunday.

15.   I fell for a boy who could never ever let me walk home that way 'Cause you gotta be safe

16.   You say that you love me, You won't remember in the morning

17.   I wish I'd known that it would be this hard to be alone. Please, come home!

18.   You're speaking like you really love him

19.   Maybe we'll see that we were wrong If ever we look back one day

20.   I thought that I was the exception I could rewrite your addiction

21.   The only thing stronger than you is whiskey

22.   Please, come back, don't you leave me

23.   When you're dying in LA

24.   Now all I can do is lay in my room Fall asleep, dream of you

25.   Tonight with me Won't you cut it up and dance all over me

26.   I'll never forget her and she'll always have a part of me

27.   He can be the one you run to, the one that saves ya

28.   the taste of goodbye on your lips when you kiss me

29.   You couldn't trust him but you never said no

30.   You trace my lines Stirring my soul

31.   And now you're dancing like you need him

32.   Don't let me go down this road again, We both know where this ends

33.   Put it in your pocket don't tell anyone I gave ya

34.   But for an angel, she's a hot, hot mess

35.   We both know love is not that easy

36.   He kissed you on the lips and opened your eyes

37.   Goodbye to my hopes and dreams

38.   I'm not gonna stay and watch you circle the drain

39.   Trust me, you'll make it through

40.   I know that I'm running out of time

41.   You had to catch your breath, got such a surprise

42.   Might be over now, but I feel it still

43.   Every now and then she makes you just a little bit crazy

44.   And you always forgot how it feels to live in his lies

45.   I wanna watch you undress

46.   It was your first cigarette

47.   But friends keep telling you what he did last night

48.   give-me-some-more girl

49.   In that moment he made you forgot how it feels when he's gone

50.   I know that it's wrong Still I run right into you

51.   I would rather we just go our different ways

52.   And now you're feeling like you miss him

53.   And you try to remember that there's no way you could ever be friends

54.   You better get your shit together

55.   He's out your system yeah it took you a while

56.   I know, 'cause I've been there too

57.   You and me together, forever

58.   I'ma disappear when they come for me

59.   You surround me, pull me, drown me then swallow me whole

60.   I shake and I shiver just to feel you breathe

61.   And all you want is just to hold her

62.   I forget who you used to be

63.   She's like a one-way ticket cause you can't come back

64.   You're way too young to be broken

65.   You pull me in close And buckle my knees

66.   I know it must seem frightening To have the world fall apart right under your shoes

67.   And I bit my lip the second you sipped The poison that was mixed for me

68.   You're way too young to play these games

69.   'Cause there are deeper and darker things than you

70.   From the beating of your heart

71.   Everything's turning dark to you

72.   I'm not the one Who wants to hurt you

[theirloveisgross]

Is this a thing? Origin stories? So I was pretty ill last summer, and for some reason Harry kept popping up everywhere, especially on my instagram explore page that I was browsing bedridden and out of boredom. In hindsight it was probably because of hslot. So I started to view clips of him every now and then, and suddenly my explore page was full of him and funny one direction videos, that let me to louis who was just starting to promote the fitf singles (and I loved his new sound!). Anyway, soon I couldn’t escape the funny 1D compilations and they really cheered me up so much when I was unwell, but I’m sure we all know they are a short, steep and slippery slide down the larry-rabbit hole. Cue youtube videos and master posts and just the whole mayhem and at some point I ended back up at tumblr, found a bunch of blogs and kept following the people those people would repost from and now my feed is full of Louis and Harry and the rest of the boys.

Never have I ever been a part of a fandom that causes me this level of unease tho, and I think it comes from ppl shipping two real people in a very intrusive way. I’m not talking about you lot I follow here of course, but some people can’t seem to behave and understand that there’s sort of a fourth wall that you’re not supposed to break? Like keep the fandom within the fandom bubble, it doesn’t belong out there in the real world.

That being said, you lot here bring me so much joy at a time when life’s been a bit heavy sometimes! And this fandom has so so much talent it’s crazy!! The writers and artists and gif makers and just everyone here is so crazy talented and fun! So kudos to y’all!!

Hi!

Ah, yes... Harry's tour and his new album, everything exploded last year. I'm so glad you found them then and they provided you with some distraction. They can be... very distracting. I still don't know how to get less distracted, tbh.

Your second paragraph... *sigh* Yes, I hear you. That was something I had to wrap my head around the first few months. The intrusiveness of it all? I felt guilty, too, just by looking at videos being slowed down frame by frame of their reactions, or moments, or whatever. It still feels a bit weird, ngl, but it's so... "normalized" here, in this bubble, that I feel "okay" with it. I do agree with you though, that fandom belongs in the fandom. I still remember that "Sing Walls if Larry is real" sign in Washington last year. We saw it before the show, and we rolled our eyes, and I was like "why would people bring this stuff to their shows", but then Louis did what he did (and trust me, I looked at every angle possible, I am very skeptical about these things, but I was stunned). Why? Why did he do that in the way he did it? Hahajha. Listen- who knows? Maybe they were in a very good place relationship-wise and he was feeling frisky about it. Or... he was just being a little shit and knew the chaos it would cause. Or... yeah, idk. It's hard, and I think it all stems from the 1D days, especially the last year, when the Bears were the stars of the show and how they "communicated" with us through them. And it fucks you up a bit... but people forget circumstances, as well. Things change... they're not in the same band anymore, being worked to death, asked to behave in certain ways and whatnot, or asked to do things they don't want. They're on their own now, and I do believe they appreciate the privacy they have after not being seen together all the time and people thinking they haven't seen each other since... 2016? It's genius, if you ask me. Like, hey, we can be ourselves, in our own little world and nobody's gonna dissect how we move, or if we can even look at each other. And I think things shifted for them in regards of "communicating", it feels like they don't have to, and sometimes some of the things we see, might just be because they're so in tune with each other that these things happen on their own. Not everything, but just some things some people love hammering on about. Okay, I'm rambling here and going on a tangent, and not properly curating my thoughts, sorry...

ANYWAY. I'm glad you're here! :) The talent in the fandom is amazing, I feel so lucky we have people that want to share their work that they do in their free time for free with us all. Love to all! <3

Anyone who sees this and has joined the fandom in the last year or so, send me a message if you want. I’m so curious what was your starting point, what made you go “Larry?” and then “OMG LARRY!”, hajdhahs.

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 25! For context, see my post “A Project”     under this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA   stories, they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Turn the Page

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/4/2014                                       mc ff

Oh, this one is ... *chef's kiss.* It's WONDERFUL. The idea of photography capturing a moment so well... of losing yourself in a photo like that... and then when Olivia steps in it's just perfect timing. I have to wonder how long she was there, watching, picking her moment. I can't do this story justice in words, just ... go read it. Seriously. It's *good.* (Ok, ok, maybe I'm slightly biased by having some lovely photos from a play session with a partner that I treasure, but still.) 10/10 spirals 

 Back and Forth (Jukebox)

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

5/30/2015                                     mc mf fd

Yeah, I'm just not grooving with stories that straight up ignore someone trying to say no tonight. This is fine if you like a hypnotist pushing past attempts to say no, but I just can't with it right now. *shrug* 

 Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

6/6/2015                                       mc mf ff fd

Whelp, now we see what a malfunctioning Girl(tm) can do. It's a good thing that the Girls(tm) have a solid QC team that handles in-the-field problems. I do hope Adele enjoys having her own Girl(tm), since it sure seems like she's destined to have one now. It's a good view into the world of the Girls(tm), and I really enjoyed it! 9/10 spirals 

 Fadin’ In and Fadin’ Out

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

6/13/2015                                     mc mf md

I don't like drugs as a method of control, personally, so this one is a pretty strong miss for me - between the drugs and the very obvious non-con, it just isn't my taste. But if you like drugs as a method of control, you might like this one pretty well. The change in how she thinks because of the drug and the brainwashing is well done, as far as I care, too. 5/10 spirals 

 Everybody Wants To Rule the World

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

6/20/2015                                     mc mf ff md fd cb

Oh, this one is just FUN, and silly, and wonderful. Also, the title reminds me of a quip from a Thunderbolts comic: "Rule the world? Who wants to do that much WORK?!" (or something to that effect, anyway.) Seeing the clash of personalities and styles on display here, how they never think to *coordinate,* is just... it FEELS like a comic book in the best of ways. Which I suppose is the goal, given the setting. And seeing inside Adventure Girl's head here? It's lovely. 9/10 spirals 

 Naturally

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

6/27/2015                                     mc mf md

Hey, now, Aaron, that's hardly proper care of an antique magnifying glass! That aside, this is a clever story; I wish we knew *how* he came to have this power over her; is it a spell? A powerful hypnotic trigger? something else? Clearly it's attached to the word "Naturally," that much is obvious, but what's the mechanism!? Inquiring minds want to know! This is a well done story, if it leaves me asking questions, and the control flows smoothly. 8/10 spirals. 

 One Thing Leads to Another

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

7/4/2015                                       mc ff

That's either extremely well targeted, or Carol gets lucky every time she tries that trick. Because it'd only take one sex-repulsed ace gal to get Carol in trouble for sexual harassment. That said, the control in this one is so smooth I got halfway through before realizing there *was* any - and that takes doing when I'm reading a story I know has mind control in it! I'm not sure I entirely *like* this story, but it's got good heat. I just ... don't enjoy how Carol steamrolls Sophie the way she does. 7/10 spirals 

 Back Where You Belong

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

7/11/2015                                     mc ff

Ooooh, this is fun, the way the pressure to remember something she believes she couldn't have remembered leads to the cognitive dissonance that pushes her into trance.... very cleverly done! Babbling out mantras, mindlessly reinforcing her programming... all top notch. I don't have a ton to say about this one other than I enjoyed it, it was Very Good. 9/10 spirals 

 Smoke From an Old Flame

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

7/18/2015                                     mc ff

... this one is NOT FAIR for many, MANY reasons. Like the (extended) sex scene is fine, lots of hypnosis mixed in making it fine for me, but me being me that isn't the highlight of this story. No, no, the highlight is just how we're introduced to Dawn, to her sheer presence and charisma and control. She's a force of nature to Amy, that's so clear, and ... well. Jukebox, that introduction made me think *immediately* of a redheaded lass I love so very much, so thank you for that. Even if that strong association made me do a double-take at the use of "Mistress Dawn" - my brain kept editing it to "Miss Dawn" for *reasons*. And the moment going to the parking ramp, with the "Follow."? ;lkhadsghkl;adsgfhkl;adsghkl;agdshkl;gadshkladsgfhkl;adsghkl;adsghkl; That's A MOMENT. But this story is so good, and it feels like it could be real, in all the little ways.I hope that this is a start of them either having a solid long-distance relationship, or one of them moving to live with the other, because gosh they make such a sweet couple. And clearly they have all the chemistry in the world 10/10 spirals 

 The Quiet Type

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

8/1/2015                                       mc ff

I wish we knew what Emily was saying at any point, here. I get why we don't; it is, after all, a story from a third-person limited narrative PoV, so we only get to know what Brandy knows, but like... not seeing how the control is flexed does take some of the heat away for me. But it's still a really good view inside Brandy's head as she rationalizes her behaviour to Emily's prompting. And the end result feels nicely inevitable for Brandy. 7/10 spirals

[turojo]

gio moment tell me about one of your favorite threads! it can be something you played with this muse or any other, follow your ♥

OOugh,,where do I begin — lemme shout a few that occupy my mind rn.

edit: this got so long so slippy under a cut it goes:

last complete thread with @lvsamine. I like exploring his relationships before SCARVIO on people he's met and worked with possibly. This is a sort of break in his melancholy; recognizing and being comfortable with someone who knows him for his work rather then ... uh, you know. There's literal changes in his demeanor from light returning to his tired eyes and getting excited over working with Lusamine and Aether on a big project.

And it's also the start of a shift in his story too.

Throughout the blog he's been teetering between "being good": recapturing escaped paradox pokemon, reluctantly remeeting people in Paldea, slowly taking on actual regional professor duties, and rebuilding the Poco lab to keep track of the Crater from above. But he's also very solemn and withdrawn.

But then there's moments of excitement, of going through efforts to get work done, explore and build something....granted this all happens during temptations. His mind strays from staying out of pathways that quickly get him into trouble. He gets so excited sometimes he doesnt see or even care that what hes doing is going to hurt him or someone else in the end. It's very easy to fall back into comfortable, malign habits.

Talking with Lusamine, remembering and feeling invigorated by all the work he did and the things he discovered ... he questions if its worth forcing himself into a comfortable and safe box to appease people is worth it when he feels so much better "breaking boundaries and discovering impossibilities" people are going to be scared of and that's their problem. But he forgets ya know...Arven, the son he left behind and like...all the destruction his "happiness and well being" selfishly takes.

He's always cusping a villain arc or good direction and I love seeing wherever it goes as more plots and interactions come by ; >c

v. paradox verse in particular, the whole “hey Sada used the Time Machine to yoink Turo from a point in time before he gets mauled so things are hunky dorey again but oops, it’s a lot more complicated then that and there’s emotions all over” deal

There’s several threads with nox/ @prosada that I love but in particular the thread where Turo is completely existential on him being here. He’s having a hard time trying to step back into a husband/father role like nothings happened. Arven is very indifferent with him as expected which causes Arven and Sada to get into a lot of arguments Turo of course overhears cause hey its a small lighthouse-house and he has ears. So Turo being Turo turns to absolute truths like physics and numbers and equations when he can’t emotionally deal with something. And what do you know…! It definitely spells out he should be dead and it’s very unnatural he’s here and it’s putting everything off. He takes this as a certain and gets really distant and sad and quiet. He doesn’t belong here and maybe he and Sada could never naturally stay together in any timeline.

But Sada comes in, smacks that idea out of his head cause it’s silly. She literally shattered expectations and literal laws of physics, time and reality itself to change that to get him back.

Can you believe he’s loved so much that someone literally became a momentary God to change the fabric of reality itself? Just for him?? For their family??? No matter how dysfunctional??? Cause he didn’t until he realizes it and does a 180 in perspective and it!! Just makes him so happy and so awestruck and --

I JUST REREAD IT ON OCCASION…ON THE REALLY BAD DAYS…STILL GET EMOTIONAL OVER IT….

Okay both have really good writing and reaaallly good grasps on their characters too hh.

There's like several other threads I have in mind too but this got ridiculously long; might have to make a new post sometime.

[luminousjellyfishy]

I posted 10,891 times in 2022

177 posts created (2%)

10,714 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@flowerscentedartist

@squidthechaotickid

@starswirly

@b3l0v3d-gh0st

@memeuplift

I tagged 796 of my posts in 2022

#don’t repost - 103 posts

#taco talks - 60 posts

#taco answers - 53 posts

#art - 52 posts

#my art - 51 posts

#taco art - 50 posts

#ask - 49 posts

#ask game - 30 posts

#previous tags - 28 posts

#error - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#when armi is four cross offers to make her breakfast one day since dream and nightmare (who usually are in charge of meals) aren’t there

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Happy Pride Month, guys!!

Error belongs to: @loverofpiggies

Nightmare belongs to: @jokublog

23 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#4

Scrolling through my Google Docs and I find this:

Ah yes. Very descriptive.

25 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#3

I want to put Error in a blender, I swear-

36 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

#2

Art!

Nightmare belongs to: @jokublog

Error belongs to: @loverofpiggies

50 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey guys, I hate to do this to you, but I am asking for help without my parents knowing.

My family and I live in a crappy part of town. We rent from my uncle because they can’t afford to buy a house. In the last four years that we’ve lived here, we’ve had a lot of stuff happen that made us uncomfortable. Things like people breaking into our garage and stealing our bikes or expensive tools. Someone broke our basement window. Graffitied our porch. Time and time again, people break into my dad’s car and steal whatever money they can find. We’ve had a drug addict knock on our door, and it’s always “fun” to see what type of alcohol bottles or cigarette butts are left on our steps. There was a stabbing next door.

But this past weekend was the last straw.

Someone broke into our house. I was at work, and my parents went out for a Valentine's dinner. My two younger siblings were home. A woman came around the side of the house and let herself in through the back door. When my siblings thought our parents came home, they were scared to see a strange woman holding a deer antler as a weapon. She said things like “Come on, let’s just go for a walk” and “I’m friendly, it’s okay.”. My younger sister lured her outside and then quickly rushed back inside the house, but the woman caught the door with the antler and prevented the door from being shut all the way. Over time, the woman sat down on the back steps and just seemed to give up. My sister opened the door quickly and tossed the antler out the door, then shut and locked it. During all this, my brother was calling 911. The cops came quickly and found the woman lying on her side in the backyard. Shortly after all this happened, my parents and I came home and found my siblings crying inside the living room. There’s no doubt about it that they’re traumatized by this experience.

So, I’m asking you for help. My parents work hard and have tried to save money over the last four years, but it never seems to be enough. I am asking that you give us just enough money that it will finally be enough so we can buy a house and get away from this horrible, unsafe area. We need to get out; none of us feel safe in our home anymore.

0/10,000

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71 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

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[summerhighlandfalls]

Okay so. I’m on a quest to find the Yaoi Building so I can make a pilgrimage. You know. So the first thing I do naturally is look up ‘yaoi building’ which did not yield the results I was looking for so instead I tried reverse image search and got nothing. Which was my first red herring. I was like oh no, is it edited? So I began a hunt for the kanji on the sign—at this point I was like, it’s fake, because yaoi (as in, gay porn) is spelled with katakana and not kanji, but now I want to see what it says. So the first one is really easy to find it’s a pretty simple kanji I find it really quick and it has a variety of readings, one of which is ‘ya’ but in my thirst for answers I ignored this obvious clue. Now I embark on my quest for the second kanji and the quest is arduous. See it’s based off of a radical that’s fairly common in Japanese but is far more common in Chinese and Wikipedia does not separate characters derived from radicals by language in their little radical/derivative table so I have to sift through Chinese characters that aren’t used in Japanese as well. Now I get sick of this so I go to another website where I can sort by language and to my dismay there is nothing that looks like my lusted after kanji. So I chose the next closest after a few minutes of careful deliberation and sadly texting my sister about how my yaoi pilgrimage is a bust but then! When I open the tab for the kanji I chose as the closest I discover that when written in handwriting it does, in fact, look like what it looks like in the font on the sign! Fonts! I hate them!! So now I have both of my kanji and I’m so excited to find out what they really mean (at this point I am fully convinced that yaoi building is fake) and I put into Google translate and it MEANS YAOI IT FUCKING. MEANS YAOI. And I’m like oh my god. Oh my god. The kanji read ‘ya’ ‘o.i’ oh my god. So I look up 矢追 and it turns out that 矢追 is a last name. Most notably of a director. Anyway. The yaoi building likely belongs to a corporation owned by someone named Yaoi. So I look up 矢追 会社 in Google and translate the results because looking up ‘yaoi company’ in English as you imagine does not yield exactly the results one might be looking for and it comes up with a demolition group in Nara prefecture Japan run by someone named Kenta Yaoi. I grab the address and put it into maps but I can’t get images because it’s maps so I download the Google earth app and punch in the location but then (oh woe) nothing around there looks at all like the yaoi building image when I walk around the block (but hey at least now if I ever find myself in Yamatotadaka I’ll know my way around). So I go to the next result for yaoi company and Lo and behold it’s another company in yamatotadaka, Nara???? But I still struck out!!! That building was ALSO not the yaoi building!! So my next step is Yaoi Construction Co, also in Nara (I’m beginning at this point to suspect that Yaoi is a common last name in Nara) but it also does not appear to be that. These appear to be the only companies named ‘yaoi’ so in a last ditch attempt to find Mr yaoi himself i decide to look up ‘yaoi’ in Google earth. At this point my entire family is aware of my search. There’s a place in Osaka with a nameplate reading yaoi but no dice. There’s a food processing place in Kyoto but no dice. My next step is to consult the replies to the post—- found Yuri Cottage, it’s in the UK!—- but no luck there, so now I’ve sent an ask to the op. Who is an image archive blog and will likely not know where the photo was taken. At this point I’m considering taking this to its logical conclusion and going to Nara as soon as I can—-which is uh. Probably never—-just to search the city desperately for Yaoi building. But then I remember that I’m searching in English when I should be searching in Japanese so I look up 矢追 in Google earth and check the results. It’s none of them. I think to myself, this time I’m really gonna do it. My mother gently reminds me to not lose sleep over the Yaoi building because i have an exam tomorrow. I hit the text limit.