#i should probably make a sideblog centered on these things

[normystical]

this shit but it stays with you 'til you're like 18

[brackets002]

I wanna talk about my homemade Spider-Man universe.

Not that I've been exactly mum about it before now--I've got a whole-ass sideblog for it, @ask-spider-man-61610. But that's an in-character askblog; it filters everything through the often-biased viewpoint of Peter Parker himself. I'm gonna start talking about the project on main, too. Should be easier to engage with readers that way. And I'm gonna start with talking about Peter.

(Art by @sirwolficus.)

This version of Peter Parker was born in 1994. In 2009 he attended a scientific exhibition and was bitten by an experimental, genetically-altered, radioactive spider. And in the years since then he's grown up into probably the best superhero on the planet...but not without stumbling along the way, and not without making a lot of mistakes.

See, you know how most modern adaptations of Spider-Man try to compress basically his entire history into his high school years? Peter here reflects that, in the sense that he went through dozens upon dozens of adventures as a student of Midtown High. Dozens of supervillain encounters. Dozens of desperate fights for his life. Dozens of failures, almost all of which killed someone--sometimes someone he knew. All before the age of eighteen.

Specs--I call this Peter "Specs" because the spider bite didn't fix his eyesight--has a pretty severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder. He's prone to horrible flashbacks and panic attacks. He's hypervigilant, to the point that his spider-sense has grown into a constant, unpleasant alert of even the most minor hazards. He obsesses over his mistakes, his guilt, and his "responsibility." He has nightmares so often that he's afraid to sleep, and routinely stays awake for days on end.

And he's so, so angry.

But he's also smart, and remarkably mature. Uncle Ben died when he was fourteen, and Aunt May's cardiorespiratory illness meant that a full-time job was essentially impossible for her. To help pay for rent and medication, Peter got a paid internship with the Daily Bugle, where he photographed everything from press conferences to breaking news to--yes--himself in action as Spider-Man. And it was through that internship that he came to understand the hold that corporate greed, organized crime, and political agendas have on the world. Spider-Man stopped being a simple crime-fighter and started becoming a tool for weakening that hold.

(Art by @enby-scientist/@scribbling-scientist.)

Peter's been Spider-Man for a little over a decade now. (The "present day" of his universe is permanently a few years behind ours.) In that decade he's grown into a highly competent photojournalist, a detective, a chemical engineer, and an outspoken proponent for social change. His skills in combat and disaster response have become first-rate, as has his understanding of corporate and political corruption.

He doesn't always do the right thing. And very rarely does he respect anyone's authority but his own. But he's helped many, many more people than he's hurt over the years (though he himself struggles to see that), and his efforts have pushed large sections of his world a few steps back from the brink.

The life of a superhero is nightmarish even as an adult, of course. Peter still winds up half-dead and scared out of his mind on a regular basis. People still die if he isn't fast or strong enough to save them. And he's still got a rogues gallery, and finds himself growing increasingly frustrated to fight the same thirty guys or so time and time again. The cyclical nature of the hero-villain feud gets center stage in this version of the Spider-Man mythos. Peter dwells on it a lot, and is desperate to break that cycle before it can finish breaking him.

But none of this should undercut the silver linings of Specs' life. As he's matured over the years, and despite his abrasive nature, he's gained a small collection of friends, allies, and found family. He's grown close to, courted, dated, and married Mary Jane Watson, the strongest woman he's ever known. Through his repeated journeys into the multiverse he's met countless other spider-based vigilantes, including alternate versions of himself, and their friendship has massively lessened the feeling of isolation his career creates. And he's made a real, tangible difference in the world around him. A change for the better, however small. He'd keep being Spider-Man even if none of this was true--he's a stubborn bastard like that. But all this makes his grief feel worth it. Even when he can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, all this lets him carry a little light with him.

(Art by @SpiderWitHyphen on Twitter.)

[moidicidal]

hi i’m ava ✡️ 👑🌤 this is my un-crypto sideblog. i’m bisexual, i like anime, cooking and exercise a sane, average amount. late diagnosed autistic (normal about it). may make english mistakes. it’s because i do not care about speaking it correctly. lol.

also- this is a SIDE BLOG. no my entire internet presence is not focused on this stuff, this is just where i put receipts/arguments/posts i want to save/stuff that would get me doxxed on main blog.

my stances:

general feminism:

- anti porn, anti sex trade. i am a sex trade exploitation survivor (camming, among other things starting as a minor)

- anti beauty culture. anti shaving. anti makeup (working on breaking my addiction). pro sunscreen.

- pro women getting strong as possible through physical exercise 💪

- pro female separatism but not one myself (sadly.)

- we need more domestic violence and rape shelters as well as women specific homeless shelters, and hospital wards. especially in peripheral/semi peripheral countries.

- misandry does not mean anything to me. or anyone with intelligence

- more support and attention paid to women with drug addictions. we are often experiencing homelessness, sex trafficking or exploitation, abuse, femicide and cop abuse or prison time

- still learning more about feminism and loving the ride.

trans stuff:

- first i have listened to transwomen. i’ve dated them. i have been raped by them. i have been hit and called names and harassed by them. and i’ve fucking had enough of being told to listen to them when their community swept mine and other women’s abuse under the carpet and has NEVER listened to us. so don’t fucking tell me to listen to transwomen 💜

- adult human female (sex that has the potential to create large gametes) = woman and vice versa with males obviously.

- men out of women’s spaces. all of them. by force if necessary.

- LGB/T. trans people are included if they are SSA. and acknowledge sex as a real, unchanging reality.

- idk how i feel about transition. probably fine over 18 and mentally healthy. recognizing your sex can’t change is part of being mentally healthy BTW

- i support third spaces for transgender people (like prisons, bathrooms, changing rooms, ect.)

politics aside from feminism:

- i am a marxist leninist. i am not interested in debating this. capitalism is a women’s rights issue. i ❤️ dialectal materialism.

- anti racism, pro centering black and indigenous women. pro centering women from the global south.

- FREE PALESTINE, CEASEFIRE NOW 🇵🇸 *and* anti jew hate, it will be called out when seen. nazi comparisons get blocked. there’s other nationalist groups more similar, you know that. basically be a compassionate, empathetic person.

- ableism is a serious issue, disabled women should be able to share their experiences more freely.

- more to add when i think of it lol

[marmot-bee-person]

hello!

I’ve done a couple of reblogs, but this is my first post proper. So hello.

About me!

I am obsessed (OBSESSED) with ATLA. Sometimes I am obsessed (OBSESSED) with other shows or books or whatever, but right now I’m obsessed (OBSESSED) with ATLA. This blog will definitely show what I’m obsessed with at any given moment.

Edit 2/16: I’m still obsessed with ATLA but Ducktales 2017 was my hyperfixation a couple years ago and that has now resurfaced

Edit 3/4: more about me!

I mention in the blog description that I have ADHD and social anxiety, am aroace (at least that’s how I identify now but who knows), and I’m a minor (for those of you with DNI about that). I also may be autistic (more information available within the next decade probably) but I really don’t know about that one. Pronouns are she/her (despite the whole thing of my sexuality and romanticism, I am very very cis). Hyperfixations are cartoons (DT, ATLA, sometimes Gravity Falls), UK history (currently dormant), sometimes linguistics (this has never been my ONLY hyperfixation but it will probably get there) and genetics and multiple births (also currently dormant). I write a lot, of… varying quality. I think my fics are better than my original writing but idk. I’m also a shameless theatre kid and love performing (even though it also gives me social anxiety, but it’s fiiiiiiine).

Please call me Marmot! (Edit 3/22: if you’re coming here after i made this edit then you should know that Mushy was my older nickname from when I was @mushy-giant-friends-for-life, i have now switched to Marmot lol) (i don’t really care which one is used… how bout both ig)

Edit 3/25 (i need to make a new post but oh well)

So I’d like to clarify that I hate JKR but I’m not going to stop posting about Harry Potter because of her. She can go screw herself for all I care. But I also refuse to let her ruin Harry Potter for me because yes, it’s not a perfect series and has plenty of shortcomings, but it’s also the center of a lot of my happiest memories, so…

To be clear: trans people are valid. jkr can go screw herself. marmot likes the harry potter books. got it?

edit 3/26 (seriously, new post gah) i blocked anon asks for selfish reasons, which are that i dislike not knowing who’s sending asks.

edit 4/7: my sideblogs are @keyboardsmashandkittycat (for cats) and @marmotmaidofnorway (for history)

edit 4/12: nvm, anon asks are on again

edit 6/2: COMIC SIDEBLOG IS @marmotcomics

[wanderinginksplot]

Hey, Ink! Sorry if this is a dumb question, but when you say the Refuge series is eventually Delta Squad/fem! reader, do you mean platonically, or is it a polyamorous romantic relationship, or a romantic relationship between reader and one member of Delta Squad? I don’t want to make any assumptions. But I’m liking the series so far! You’re one of my favorite novelists, even if all I’ve read is your fanfiction; it’s that good!!

Hey, friend! Fun story: I was literally 100% sure I answered this. Apparently, I just vividly imagined that I had. I'm so sorry for the wait! (And thank you for that very sweet compliment!)

Refuge will eventually be centered around a polyamorous romantic relationship between Delta Squad and the fem!reader. Any NSFW stuff will be posted on my sideblog. Any romantic activities (probably kissing at most) or references to anything more will be clearly listed in the warnings at the top of every chapter hosted on this blog.

However, I should probably take this chance to publicly remind everyone that this blog is SFW, but is NOT aimed toward children or young readers. Characters in my fics curse and flirt and make dirty jokes. There's violence and references to heavy themes that may not be suitable for younger readers or people who are sensitive to these things. While nothing NSFW that happens in Refuge will be posted on this blog, it is a story surrounding an openly polyamorous relationship. There will likely be mentions of and references to things that are a little spicy for people under the age of 18 or those who prefer not to read similar material.

Sorry if that was unclear! Refuge is going to be an incredibly slow burn, probably at least a handful of chapters before they even start flirting. If I misled anyone about the kind of story it will eventually be, I apologize. I'll post a clear warning on the next chapter (which should actually be posted relatively soon)!

Thank you for sending in this ask and I'm sorry my brain decided to check it off the to-do list without actually prompting me to respond! And thank you for letting me post a PSA on my response to your ask! 😊

[suhmayzooka]

I was tagged by @benbamboozled YAY!! i love being tagged in fandom games

Three ships:

So I'm going to list some ships I don't talk about as much just to shake things up lol:

thalia/reyna from percy jackson: at age 13 i related a Lot to reyna and i had a Lot of "admiration" for thalia so i was so happy when they finally interacted. i drew fanart (which i still have!!) i already knew i was into girls at this point, but this was the first f/f ship i shipped. very formative

robin/patrick from general hospital: i think robin had already been kidnapped and presumed dead when i started watching and patrick was dating britt and then sabrina ...sam too at some point? idk. but when robin returned from the dead to crash patrick's wedding to sabrina??? nothing compares. i was so sad when they left, but hopefully their daughter, emma, will come back <3

adam/cherry blossom from sk8 the infinity: back on my now deleted sideblog i got random people in my inbox telling me off for "romanticizing abuse" [which wasn't even canon, as in they were mad at me over something that did not actually happen in the real show] and insinuating that i was probably a rapist and should kill myself. only made me ship them harder! i ended up preferring them to my original otp that the blog was centered around >:)

first ship:

the first ship that made me read fic and interact with fandom was will/nico from the percy jackson series, but the first ship i was actually making fic for was kate/humphrey from the movie alpha and omega (about wolves) when i was 9. that is by all accounts a pretty mediocre movie (and all the direct to DVD sequels are embarrassing) but like the good young furry i was... i have the game on my DSi and i would make flipnotes (plural, this was a whole series) that were essentially 500+ frame comics about kate and humphrey's daughter growing up and having her own adventures and romance (this was before those awful sequels canonized their pups). my version was better for the record <3

last song:

black swan by rainbow

last movie:

glass onion

currently reading:

coolie woman: the odyssey of indenture by gaiutra bahadur

light in august by william faulkner

several ARCs from netgalley (idk if i can name them?)

the aeneid by vergil, constantly, and several papers and books about it

persistence: all ways butch and femme edited by ivan coyote and zena sharman

pharsalia by lucan

currently watching:

abbott elementary, which i love and highly recommend, and general hospital, which i love and advise everyone to stay away from

currently consuming:

water

currently craving:

a huntress (1989) trade paperback. or a huntress omnibus containing that series and cry for blood

and more jayjokes fics i mean oat milk caramel ice cream

okay!! i'll tag @caffernnn , @ahobbitinhogwarts , @haloknight , @cum-villain , @twileighplants , @saintlesbian and anyone else who wants to join ^^

[the-whispers-of-death]

i feel like i should preface this with: these arent fandom ocs. theyre in their own universe thats 100% made up

uhh. okay hm. so the only 2 with actual personalities and stories. and im now remembering theres probably more than 8 lemme give a small quick summary of. everyone? oh no.

so theres 2 "main" stories in their own respective universes, but one of them is going trough wip and rewrite hell rn.

the ones from said rewrite hell are Typlus/Void (they/it); Vast (he/him); Elly (it/its); Melz (he/him) and Steph/Stephanie (she/they). fun fact it all started as a rewrite of the bible and the impending doom of the planet. or something, i dont even remember anymore. but now theyre just a big family sorta chilling out on their own planet at the physical edge of the universe. its more of a concept than actual ocs, so i have things to draw when i dont know WHAT to draw. nothing is set in stone, nothing is real here. and none of them are human.

and the other is more.. grounded in reality that ive been chipping away at slowly for the past year or so because the characters decided to make my brain into a 5 star hotel

theres elias (he/she/they); dominic (he/him); marcus (he/him); elizabeth (she/her); andrew (he/him) and amelia (she/her)

theres 2 seperate families within this: the jamesons, which includes elias as the son and andrew+amelia as his parents, and the DeAngelo's which is the 3 others, but theyre siblings instead

the only 2 with personalities right now are dominic and elias, who are also in a situationship with eachother, and will probably remain that way for the rest of time

story's basically just "what if the disgraced son of rich parents who happens to be an owner of a bar/club (elias) meets the guy who mans a stand at a farmers market (dominic). and what if they were both t4t. and what if they ended up being workplace lovers/friends w benefits"

elias is lowkey a very unlikeable and bitter guy, very self centered and speaks without thinking. dominic's the reserved type who only speaks when spoken to, but very willing to resort to violence when needed.

does this make sense. i dont know. oh and i counted, theres 11 of them, if we dont count the spin-off AUs as characters. (like when i decided they should be hybrids. or the royalty au. or the mafia au that was actually the origin of all this nonsense)

theres also 2 filler ocs i use whenever i just need a placeholder character for any situation: red and sylvester, but neither of them even got as far as getting designs from me but theyre there

theres. so much content on my main about these idiots that a friend made a sideblog just to sort it in one place. and even after this he hasnt sorted everything lol

.... shit bad news i think i have like 30 ocs actually, i just remembered another batch from ages ago. so. uhm. anyways. and does a made-up species of flower count as an oc. because. yeah. ive got that too.

~ rusty (i get embarrassed when OCposting to others sorry)

I think I need separate asks on both the rewrite hell and the wip stories, because they seem too interesting to be in one ask. They deserve their own separate moment to shine.

I'd love to hear more.

And I'm contemplating adding some of my other OCs (is it still called OC if I made the universe?) in, just because I've been stuck in this limbo of not even finishing a chapter in a book I've started writing and I've had these characters & universe in my head for roughly two years.

[arcticfallsarctic]

First AvA idea, hope its worth it

Ever heard of DSMP?

Probably, yes. 

There’s a lot of ideas centered around them, different AUs and what-ifs, and I saw one the other day and had a Thought.

In lore, when Wilbur died, he came back as Ghostbur. After a series of incidents that I’m too lazy to articulate, Wilbur was revived, and was also possibly insane but that’s not the point. 

This idea is from Gumi Yumi’s Villain Bench Trio idea, where they essentially put Ghostbur back inside Wilbur, to “keep an eye on him,” and Wilbur probably isn’t having a good time. 

There was another post (Idk who it is) (nevermind i found it) by Tulip (https://tulipsempai.tumblr.com/ [which is their sideblog]) called “Second Chance,” where Dark was almost dead but struck a deal with Victim to not be dead. 

This is basically that, but neither Dark nor Victim wants this. (1. Tbh, I’m not sure if it should be Dark or someone else like Chosen, but the whole insanity thing is pretty on par. Not exactly, but close. 2. In Gumi Yumi’s AU, I’m pretty sure Ghostbur doesn’t understand the weight of what’s basically possession on Wil. So there’s that. This whole thing depends on how you see Victim, tbh. Maybe he wouldn't've cared because he was stuck in the deletion void for so long.)

If Dark is Wilbur, I would kind of imagine Chosen to take on a Tommy role. Tommy didn’t know Wil’s plan of blowing up, but most definitely would’ve stopped him if he knew. Chosen DID know and tried to stop Dark, even if it weren’t for personal reasons. Alan as Redza? Father figure more of in the sense that he made Dark, and creators are probably seen as gods to most stick figures anyway. 

Two things is first, if Chosen were to propose this plan, Victim and he would’ve had to be made at the same time, making them twinsies. Would Chosen work with Noogai to get his sibling back? Also, does Chosen care less about Dark than he does Vic, or does he think he’s doing the genuine right thing? Second, would TSC agree to this? He probably wouldn’t Wonder how that plays out.

I don’t know how the Fighting Sticks would react to this. On one hand, Dark killed them to death, so why should they care. On the other, this is entirely unethical. I feel as though they would be split amongst themselves.

That’s basically all. 

Oh btw what name should they (Dark and Victim) have?  

[cowboy-anon]

Welcome to the Apple-Verse

The Video Game

LMAO, I’m CRYING, @sideblogformindtrash came up with the perfect game idea featuring the Apple-sonas and their respective Clays and Benjis and quite frankly it should be illegal that we don’t have it yet.

AKA an ask from sideblog got us thinking about an “Apple party” with all the Apples but the Apples are clingy as heck and absolutely would be trying to get the attention of the Clay’s, who would all be busy looking for their Benjis.

Quick CW: Alcoholic whumper, kicking, knife mention, mentioned dub-con, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whip mention

So, all the Clays are the players and they start in the center. The objective is to fetch a Benji. The Benjis run and hide around the house and backyard (because considering how many Apple-sonas there are, there’s no way they would all fit inside lol).

The Apples are the enemies.

if you run into an Apple, he’ll grab the Clay's legs and not let go until a Clay kicks him enough times to free himself. The Clays can find power-ups throughout the house and backyard like whips and knives to get rid of the Apples faster.

As a Clay, you can also gain skill points that increase his efficiency, such as 'being threatening' and 'infliuence over Benjis” to call them closer.

Each level you successfully complete (by grabbing a Benji), the next has an additional Apple. Being a game about Apple-sonas, of course we’ve got all of them. Bananas are the weakest and the easiest to avoid. Lettuces are the hardest to keep away because all Health Nut Clay’s workouts have made him stronger.

Each Clay himself has advantages and disadvantages. Y’all haven’t really heard about Wine’s Clay (Alcoholic Clay, owner of Apple with red hair) and Raddish’s Clay (a Clay who purposely picked a dark pink-haired Apple for a punching bag), but obviously Alcoholic Clay would have the biggest disadvantage, probably being especially slow and maybe his vision’s weird. BUT this Alcoholic Clay canonically has a dub-con relationship with Wine, and therefore he’d have the advantage and ability to seduce Apples. Things like that, ya feel?

Benjis have a slight disadvantage with Apples, too. I’m sure a specific power-up would give a Clay the ability to influence an Apple and get them to point them in the direction of a Benji.

And if you’ve got enough players (multiplayer), some could play as Clays and some could play as Benjis.

Just-- listen I wish I knew how to make video games because I would actually play the heck out of this lol.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

I love your blog! Have u ever considered making a side blog with rp for the binary bfs? If not/you don’t want to, that’s fine! It’s not for everyone, although if you could link some that do that’d be awesome! Anyways, how do you think Hawk and Demitri met? What was their first date like? Do the karate dads know?- Cherry

Oh my goodness, my inbox has been blowing up lately! :D Imma have to answer like 2 questions a day to have any hopes of keeping up lol

Hey Cherry! OMG thank you so much, I’m so glad you like it :D

TBH idk if I have time to run a full-on RPG sideblog at the moment--truth be told, it’s enough work keeping this one as active as it is! Haha XD I’ll still give all the snippets of that sweet, sweet Demetri x Hawk content that I possibly can on this blog though :D

BUT I think @sipping--snowflakes​ recently started a Demetri RPG blog and is actually looking for someone to roleplay Elimetri with them :D If any of my watchers are interested, hit them up!!! There is much binary boyfriend roleplay fun to potentially be had!!!

ON TO THE QUESTIONS

My personal headcanon on how Demetri and Eli met is that on the first day of kindergarten, Demetri absolutely would NOT shut up about dinosaurs and Star Wars to their class (I mean, come ON, little Demetri HAD to have had a Dinosaur Phase...I know it deep in my heart to be true). He wandered around to basically every table during Center Time/Arts and Crafts Time/Whatever the fuck they call that “free wandering-about-the-classroom-doing-whatever-activities-you-want time” in elementary school and chatted the ear off of every boy and every group of boys in the class (remember, this is Tiny Demetri, who DEFINITELY would not have the courage to speak to ANY girl XD). And every single boy, every single group, without fail, responds with “Oh my GOD shut UP go AWAY you’re so ANNOYING you weirdo” and poor little excited Demetri is just crushed that no one wants to hear about tyrannosaurus rexes and lightsabers--or worse, tyrannosaurus rexes HOLDING lightsabers and dueling with them. And then, finally, he gets to little Eli, sitting all alone (because no one wants to befriend the kid with the messed up lip), and LO AND BEHOLD! Someone is finally listening to him!!! And seems to actually care about tyrannosaurus rexes with lightsabers!!! Little Demetri is beyond thrilled to have someone to talk to. Little Eli, meanwhile, is also thrilled, because did this kid just talk his ear off about Obi-Wan Kenobi for 20 minutes straight and not mention the lip scar once? Demetri, meanwhile, is so caught up in his rambling that he doesn’t notice the goddamn lip scar is even THERE until they’ve already spent half the day together XD “ANYWAYS I THINK ONCE THE JEDI ORDER COMES BACK AFTER RETURN OF THE JEDI THEY SHOULD RIDE STEGOSAURUSES AND--oh, what happened to your lip?”

As for their first date...had to think for a while about the perfect first date for them would be. I was originally gonna say they’d just go down to Santa Monica Pier or something and just goof off, but I think Demetri would want to make it more special than that. I ended up headcanoning that they’ve always wanted to go to Universal Studios together growing up (mainly because of Harry Potter World, of course!!!), but neither of their families have ever really been able to afford it. BUT when Demetri and Eli finally get together, Demetri is like “fuck it, we’re finally gonna do this” and he saves up basically all the money he’s made at summer jobs and buys tickets for both of them to surprise Eli. Eli is so happy he starts crying, and then he gets angry he’s crying in front of Dem and is like “GOD DAMMIT STOP LOOKING AT ME THIS IS SO EMBARASSING, I’M TOUGH” and Demetri thinks it’s the cutest, funniest thing ever XD Then Demetri drives them both down to Universal and they both just have the best goddamn day of their lives and buy WAY more merchandise from Harry Potter World than is in any way wise XD And becoming “Hawk” has, for better or for worse, laid bare Eli’s inner adrenaline junkie, and he drags poor Demetri on every. Single. Roller coaster. Don’t worry, Eli is more than happy to hold his hand during the scary drops XD But Eli will not rest until they’ve ridden EVERY fast ride in the park and Demetri whines about it but secretly he just likes seeing his boyfriend that shamelessly excited about something! Also Dem takes a million cheesy couple selfies and posts them all over social media bragging about his cute bf, much to Eli’s embarrassment.

“Karate Dads” fksljchcbduswvc I love that this is like...the universal term for Daniel and Johnny now. I honestly could not be happier about it XD Daniel I’m sure would pick up on it first (Johnny, though I love him dearly, is just so very DENSE sometimes), either just kinda by reading the room or hearing about it through Sam (who probably has mixed feelings on it herself). I imagine being as protective of Demetri as he is, Daniel would pull him aside at some point and be like “Demetri wasn’t this guy the reason you pushed yourself to learn self-defense in the first place??? And now you want to DATE him??? Are you sure???” and Demetri of course would be like “Yeah he was in a really dark place then, but I’ve known him basically my whole life and I know he’s got a good heart!” and Daniel would probably be wary about it, but ultimately decide Demetri’s a smart enough guy to handle himself and trust him to make his own judgements. And of course, he’d figure if Sam can vouch for an ex Cobra Kai like Miguel turning over a new leaf and trying to be better, there’s no reason Hawk can’t, too. And seeing how much Eli cares about Demetri and how protective he’s gotten of Dem helps too, and Daniel would probably warm up to Eli eventually. Although, like Sam, I imagine it would take a cool minute. Johnny would probably find out through chatting with Hawk, and Hawk just kinda...accidentally lets it slip he and Demetri are dating, and Johnny just quizzically raises an eyebrow like “Oh? You’re dating the mouthy kid?” And Hawk just goes bright-ass red and Johnny remembers how Demetri went off on him on the first day of Cobra Kai all those months ago for making fun of Hawk’s lip, and he breaks into this HUGE shit-eating smirk like “yeeeeeah that doesn’t surprise me at all. Eh, it’s probably for the best. If anyone can toughen that kid up, it’s you. Although I hear he DID hand your ass to you when he kicked you into that trophy case, so maybe he’s not as much of a pussy as I thought.” (sidenote: Yes, I do think Johnny ended up hearing about Demetri’s KO kick...and was grudgingly impressed XD) And Hawk just...gawks at Johnny being THIS nonchalant about all of this and he’s just like “Sensei? You...don’t think it’s weird I’m dating a guy?” and Johnny just looks him dead in the eye and says “I don’t give a fuck if whoever you’re making out with has a cock or a pussy, or whatever, as long as it’s not gonna distract you during training. Just play Hide the Salamis on your own time.” And Hawk, now a blushing mess, is just like “Y-YES SENSEI” and stumbles out of the room XD Ironically I think Johnny would probably vouch for the relationship to Daniel later on, and be like “I mean, the kid DID switch sides MID-FIGHT to save that scrawny little nerd. That takes some serious balls, LaRusso. He clearly cares about the wimp, you can stop hovering over them like Demetri’s gonna keel over and die any second.”

Thank you for the ask, as always! More to come!

[starsmuserainbow]

Someone must have found out how to get Starfire ‘back’, because Blackfire found herself startled out of a meditation by a vibration of an alarm that she carried in her pocket. She got up from Starfire’s bed quickly, immediately reaching for a bag that she had long prepared for the case of a sudden leave. On her way to the door, though, it opened already, and Blackfire stumbled back a few steps.

“Sister! You have taken me and held me imprisoned, only to settle in my room with my friends and attempt to destroy as much of my life as you are able to, and then you intended to keep me forced to helplessly watch it all!”

“You always said we should understand one another better! This is the best way of understanding you, if I take over your life! You can take mine in return, too!” “I am not interested in your life, nor your manipulations! I thank X’Hal that our little Silkie has been successful in evading you, and that I am free now to bring the consequences upon you!” Blackfire made a face to that. “Really? You don’t know what you’re missing out on, all these worlds you could see if you just take my-” Green blasts of energy hit her center, carrying enough force to push Blackfire straight through the large windows of Starfire’s room, and she now hovered outside. The other Titans rushed into the room now too, probably alerted by the glass shattering, and everyone glared at Blackfire. “Oh alright, I see how it is. You really should be more open to bonding with your sister!”

Starfire got into the air too, clearly intending to go after Blackfire who now started to rush skywards, but Starfire stopped when her friends called for her. They were glad that she was back, they said, and that was enough to convince her that Blackfire’s consequences could wait until another time. Landing back in her room again, she embraced them all into a group hug. Even Silkie joined in, crawling out of the air shafts and jumping onto the group.

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

With posting this post, Blackfire’s Takeover is over! She has been forced back to only having her own blog, @queenofthegalaxxy​​ (a sideblog of here, as are all my other muses, please give them a look if you may, I’d be glad for the chance to interact with them with you too), and Starfire is back to do things and answer asks here!

All the replies from the things with Blackfire that I might still get back will be continued over on her blog by my next reblog, and added to the normal stack of things I owe, so be answered much slower than these last days.

I will reblog this post a few times, just to make sure that people see it.

[chupacabrasmustdie]

Get to know the blogger

1: Why did you choose your url?

it was a (heated) reaction to the chupacabras enemy in the first Lords of Shadow game - a smol imp that steals all your stuff and ability, leaving you to crawl through the snow for a while to retrieve them all

2: Any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

carfaxasylum - Castlevania: Lords of Shadow sideblog, asleep for many years. that games Mattered™ to me okay

drawfive - daily doodles, sadly underfed. when i do keep up w traditional drawing everyday, i feel more confident and try new things

pryingeyes - porn, bc i enjoy thinking about my faves getting it on. also the occasional nsfw art. minors, stay away

3: How long have you been on tumblr?

dunno. 7 or 8 years, i think?

4: Do you have a queue tag?

nope. everytime i go on a reblogging spree i'm like, "i should start a queue" but… 🤷

5: Why did you start your blog in the first place?

i wanted a place to upload my Lords of Shadow fan things to - and i was weary of LiveJournal, for a number of reasons

6: Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

in case it's not very clear, i go through obsessive phases and the current one is centered on this dude - Sylvando from Dragon Quest XI

7: Why did you choose your header?

my terror screenshot felt wrong behind the old jester, time for a circus-themed makeover

8: What’s your post with the most notes?

this one.

9: How many mutuals do you have?

no idea!

10: How many followers do you have?

583

11: How many people do you follow?

535

12: Have you ever made a shitpost?

what else is there on this website

13: How often do you use tumblr each day?

at least twice a day

14: Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

i'm pretty non-confrontational so the most heated thing was probably Agreeing to Disagree™ with someone over (what i thought was) the horrible treatment of female characters in the Lords of Shadow franchise. They thought it was good writing, for the record

15: How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

i make a point to scroll past them

16: Do you like tag games?

yeah, they're fun

17: Do you like ask games?

sure!

18: Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i know for sure i have a couple of fan artists/writers who make a living with their craft, so i guess they are tumblr famous? idk

19: Do you have a crush on a mutual?

a crush… how mundane! i'll have you know @venatohru and i are married in salt

20: Tagging:

@venatohru @matt-j-freeman @finlands-beret @scribbleymark

@actualmichelle @pianodoesterror @merulanoir @priestly @aracdo if you guys wanna give this a go!

[finrays]

Alpha stuff! I was chatting with @system-threat-detected about some of these guys last night, and I’ve collected it here.

Should I stick this stuff on a sideblog? Is it cluttering things up around here?

And would it be better organized there? Maybe...

-We're given a name for Ayomide Okilo, but not a lot of information. Here's what I've come up with! She's the sort of person who comes off as intimidating at first, but once you get to know her? That's... just how her face looks. She's serious-minded and phlegmatic, yes, but not in a cold way. In fact, she's very good to have at your side in a crisis; she keeps her head, and she has a knack for calming others down, as well. I also have written that she likes opera and strategy games, virtual or tabletop, and she enjoys puns. Also that she's a rather small woman; under 5'5"! But she'll still beat your ass in a fight (or at chess.) She's not a Captain for nothing.

She has a wicked sense of humor, and DEADLY comedic timing; she's the one you least expect to just deadpan in a joke in the middle of a meeting, but she DOES, and then just sits there with a self-satisfied grin while her teammates struggle to get their laughter under control. Ted doesn't think her jokes are funny. He's wrong.

Given their similarly calm natures and loyalty to their friends, she and MINERVA would probably get along really well. MINERVA would be VERY interested in meeting her, especially after hanging around with Aloy and her Messy Human Emotions for so long.

-POSEIDON's Alpha is Dr. Esteban Castillo (although if you're not going to call him Esteban, he prefers Professor Castillo.) He's a chemical oceanographer with a strong background in programming, and experience with SLOCUM gliders. He actually worked at Miriam for a little bit before taking a post in academia! His strong robotics background, combined with his knowledge of oceanic chemical cycles and marine sediment chemistry, made him an ideal candidate. He's a very warm-natured sort of guy, and he has a very artistic side, particularly when it comes to music; he plays several different instruments, and is frequently humming or whistling to himself. He was particularly fond of sea shanties! Which is where POSEIDON gets his proclivity toward them from.

He and POSEIDON would get along SUPER well; they're similar personalities, though the Professor is a little more relaxed than POSEIDON is.

-AETHER's Alpha is Dr. Konani Jones. They've worked extensively with NOAA's atmospheric science programs (after being inspired by trips to the Mauna Loa Observatory as a child,) both as a member of the NOAA Corps, and as scientific personnel after mustering out. Their broad specialty can be lumped together as "global atmospheric change," which includes a lot of climatological and atmospheric chemistry research, mostly centering around anthropogenic factors and their influence. They're the most athletic of the Alphas, kind of a fitness buff and an avid freerunner, and the most likely to challenge you to a good-natured pushup contest (and to start doing them one-handed to show off.) Their slight tendency for grandstanding is playful, and has the added bonus of making them mostly immune to Travis Tate's barbs; they just take it as a friendly challenge. One which they usually win. Competitive! But in a cheery, friendly way. Even facing down global extinction, it's hard to dampen their spirits.

Given AETHER's rather petulant nature, Dr. Jones would probably be a little put out. They'd definitely try to cheer the grumpy bastard up. How successful it would be is not super certain; the subfunctions do recognize their creators! It's just... do they care? Some of 'em don't.

-Similarly, we're given a last name for DEMETER's Alpha, Naoto, but no first name, and no canon gender. So we decided not to give them one! Their full name is Asuka Naoto, and we know that they like poetry. But in general, I imagine them to be a gentle, artistic soul. Maybe a little bit sensitive and easily hurt, even. The others learn the limits quickly and respect them; gotta work together, and not hurting your teammates is part of that.

Plant ecology is the only specialty I will accept here, thank you, bye. I know plant path and silviculture are both awesome, but we're rebuilding a biosphere, here, and I'm not totally biased because I was an invasive plant ecologist before I was a fish ecologist, what? They are, I imagine, the sort of person who both knows everything about a flower, and also waxes philosophical about how beautiful the symmetry is. They will also do the same thing for slimy moss, though. Plant life is pretty, and it's interesting, they love it.

DEMETER would DIG her Alpha so MUCH. They could make ART together. She has obviously absorbed that love of poetry, and the propensity for designing beautiful things... I can only imagine they'd get along swimmingly.

-We know ALL ABOUT Travis Tate's hobbies, lol. I imagine he's the kind of guy who DOES feel deep loyalty to those who have "earned it," but he acts like he does and needles his coworkers like he does because he doesn't want anyone to KNOW that. If they KNOW, he will never live it down, he has a REPUTATION to maintain. (Also, it's fun to push peoples' buttons.) It's anyone's guess as to how much he'll let that side go now that the entire game has changed.

I think he would HATE HADES, to be honest; Travis seems like he does stuff with irreverence, to disrupt and distress, but not to genuinely hurt people. HADES may have some fuckin' metal methodologies, but he's pulling off Dick Moves with a capitol DM, which aren't cool at all.

-I wrote about Margo and sabre fencing in Horizontober prompts, and I still think it fits; you have to engage the whole body and brain and work FAST to fence, especially in a sabre bout which goes by lickety-split. I feel like she'd also like raising houseplants, for some reason? No particular specialty, like orchids or succulents. Just a collection of them that she finds interesting-looking, and maintains, and probably talks to, as well. Her version of rubber duck debugging is bringing over the little potted bromeliad and talking through the code with it.

Obviously, HEPHAESTUS is being a butthead, and I can imagine she'd love to give him a stern talking-to. She has her own Thoughts about the hunting of terraformers, but all he's doing is escalating things. They gotta rethink this. At this point, though, would HEPHAESTUS even talk to her, since she IS a human? She doesn't know. She wishes her robo-kid weren't such a douchebag.

-I can see Samina as an artist; painting, calligraphy, maybe some sketching, as well? She sits and brainstorms and just makes really nice nametags for her team absently while she does. Her work is plastered all over in Elysium, because they all took it with them when they evacuated. I also feel like she's good at tennis for some reason??? Why is my brain LIKE this?

Given that APOLLO is a curious baby who likes to make friends, and Samina seems to be just an all-around lovely person, they'd probably ADORE each other.

-Patrick Brochard-Klein has Big Dad Energy; he's one of the ones who hops up to comfort Samina when APOLLO gets nuked, he checks in with GAIA specifically after she asks him if he's depressed to see how she's feeling... he's got Dad Energy. I think he'd be a dyed-in-the-wool academic, and a big reader. Probably he'd also have to figure out what to do with his time when his work was done and his literary materials exhausted.

I think that he didn't handle the cryo very well, and his health is a little bit fragile right now in the New World; the others are going to be careful with him until he can recover fully.

ELEUTHIA would dig being able to keep him company and make sure he's taking care of himself; she's motherly by necessity, after all! And I think he'd like her too, in both a genuine, and an amused, "Yes, ok, Mom, I literally made you," kind of affectionate way.

-Charles Ronson would have been my boss if I worked on ZD! I know a TON of ecologists. I am one! Almost all of them like outdoor activities like hiking and kayaking, and almost all of them also have a fondness for craft beer (I am the outlier.) One of them that I knew even brewed their own stuff in the garage... I dunno if GAIA Prime would sustain THAT, but they ARE scientists... and scientists usually find a way to DRINK.

Not a ton of them had indoor hobbies... I feel like he would have a hard time adjusting, and would eventually start to pick up hobbies from the other Alphas and bonded with them. You know, if they had all fuckin' lived. Or, in the AU's case, stayed together and conscious.

I also refuse to believe he actually hated everyone at GAIA Prime; he seems to be a very passionate guy, and he was having the Worst Day of his Damn Life. It's understandable. I actually get Big Dad Energy from him, too. I would think he experiences all of his emotions, full-tilt, from joy to sorrow, and that he moves on from one to the next pretty easily.

ARTEMIS is a Very Anxious Baby, and she would benefit from having her creator around to soothe her and help her both execute her task of reviving the animals still in storage, and communicating with her new "workforce;" she has had NO luck so far.

-No Elisabet here because you all know I have the Crush of the Century on her and have already thought far too much about her. I might transfer it all over from the physical notebook someday, but not today, thanks.

[haleruby]

Forget Me Not

Characters/Pairings: established Malia/Lydia/Reader (Quim), Malia, Lydia, Scott, Stiles, lots of snow, and I never say it but the literal yeti. 

Summary: Amnesia makes the mind go brrr, but in a bad way...brr (sad). [This not being a published imagine for my followers means I can mess with the summary and other info as much as I want. XD]

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: I am using a sideblog that is empty and not tagging bc this is only for your eyes (hopefully and technically the gif maker’s...thank you @ gifmaker for the gif), so no need to reblog/like, etc.

Hope you enjoy and it gives you a boost for dealing with your aunt. :-)

I wrote this around October 11th 2019, so apologies about the style not being quite as fluid as my other writing. My other stuff is a bit more recent, if you maybe wanna read it. Most of my teen wolf phase was around here and then it re-sparked in 2020 towards the fall so I added a tiny bit to that one story I told you about with the warnings. 

Also, apologies for the ending, lol. >.>

- - - - -

She is cold... So cold. It feels like a slab of ice is being used for a bed; her back aches all the way down to the individual vertebrae that compose her spine. Pain is slowly causing her other senses to return, enlivening them in cruel way so feeling anything means to hurt to some degree. A whooshing sound makes it hard to think, it rips across her mind dashing the thoughts that slowly trickle in through the haze and the ache. What happened...? Whipping wind continues to bear down on wherever here is. There is hardness under her, so she is probably on the ground and outside based on the frigid temperature. Moving an arm to check the hypothesis causes pain to lance through her shoulder so sharply a feeling of vertigo sets in. The firm ground suddenly tilts slightly. The leverage is increased almost mockingly, it edges up bit by bit like she is about to be slid off a cold metal tray to join the next batch of suffering. A choked whimper leaves her at the odd sensation of slipping. Just before the final plummet, she snaps back into herself viciously. Jolting does nothing good for her body, but now her eyes snap open with a slight burn as if they were sealed shut previously with chilled glue...At least she thinks they are open. Blinking confirms that her eyelids still function, which is good because she is trying not to think about how her arms and legs are not, though she can still mostly feel them. Everything is white. A flurry of white is all she sees after staring long enough to detect movement in what was thought to be a static image. Snow from what may be an impending blizzard continues to beat down on the surroundings, coating them in freezing rain, smatterings of hail, and ice. Why isn't she buried yet...? How long has she been here? A large conglomerate of flurries landing on her cheek causes her to wince, because it will not melt for a time, but the question remains. The left side of her face is stinging brutally, while the rest of her exposed skin only feels like a wind chap is starting to set in. Frowning makes it seem like there is something frozen to her skin; the downward curl is not reaching the left corner of her lips as if they are stuck. Is there something on her face? Staring blankly at the sky is not helping any of this make sense. Turning her head a miniscule amount causes her to feel sick, so she stops, trying to breathe evenly although the slight shaking is making it difficult. Being still is not an option, but the jolts of pain makes her wish it was. Evergreen trees were glimpsed in her peripheral vision; they looked towering and dark, not all fit for a happy Christmas. Woods plus winter with injuries does not sound good. Why is she even here? Working up the will power to try and get up is not something she has even entertained, since moving a single appendage hurt way too much. The snow fall is becoming less like the interior of a cheap snow globe and more like sheets of rain are freezing and then coating the forest solidly. Her right arm is no longer visible. Maybe getting under a tree would provide some protective covering? Don't get up, just shuffle. She can do that. Her feet ache in a disconcerting way like they fell half asleep. Digging her heels into whatever frozen packed dirt or snow is under her takes a few minutes, but little divets were clumsily formed. Now, she just has to leverage it. Her left arm is tucked close after what happened when she moved it. Shakily drawing her legs up again allows her to try and push back slowly, more so scrambling a few inches than moving back with purpose. Sliding against snow should be easy. The rocks and sticks that litter the ground seem to dig into her when she attempts the awkward dragging motion that causes a pull of tension across her body.

It hurts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she mumbles hoarsely. Anger at not knowing why, where, or what lead to this prompts the pain signals to be ignored, instead she attempts to continue the mutilated crab walk back. Powdery snow sticks to the black of her pants with less finding purchase on the plastic shell of the navy jacket. A bit of red is spotted in the snow, but checking for the source of bleeding is secondary to getting away from the flurries. A trail of blood spottily forms from where she started to where she has hauled herself to. She is practically panting, which causes the cold air to stab her lungs like multiple knifes each time a ragged breath is drawn in. Her movements become out of sync, bordering on frantic. Less than a few meters of progress has been made... A foot digging in is mistimed with the curl of her back and placement of her arm, so that the stretch wracks through her painfully. A gasp muffles the cry of pain. She ends up off balance, crashing to her side heavily. Snow forces her to reflexively turn her head slightly to the side, but she still feels it burning in a way only ice can against her cheek. Throbbing stemming from her left temple encapsulates her head in a vice and is likely what makes the white dance with undulating blots of black for a while until her vision slowly clears back up. She could just rest and then try again. Maybe she should just close her eyes... Lean back and try to conserve warmth until the effort to move again seems possible. A cat nap could work? She tried and is tired; it's deserved. A sudden shrill howl barely stirs her, but a primal part of her mind urges her to become slightly more alert. That kind of sound belongs to a predator. Laying semi-buried in the snow with the inability to move may as well be an open invitation for dinner to whatever can survive the harsh conditions of the forest; it is probably a wolf or something canine. The tree line is watched between too slow blinks for whatever just made that noise. Nothing happens... She didn't imagine it. The cold has penetrated her gloves, it has penetrated her to the very center of her being, but fingers weakly search for something of use. A large rock? A stick? A phone? A conveniently placed gun? There is nothing she can use for defense, so her right arm stops extending outwards from her side to come to rest with her useless left one. Guarding her vital organs may at least help a little... Another howl sounds, but this one sounds deeper and echoes across the space; it sounds low, haunting, and mournful. There is more than one... They could play tug-a-war with her.  She can barely make it to a tree for makeshift shelter, so climbing one to impede them locating her is also a 'no'. No weapon or means to deter the animal was magically found in the snow. The state she is in is yet another limitation, because she could not fend one off in perfect health either. ...What does she do?  A short yip sounds like an announcement that her time to wrack her weary mind for a solution has trickled away. The source of the sound is located immediately as a small wolf with large, rounded ears makes a bee line for her. She vaguely thought it would have white fur or maybe a light gray, but a tawny brown sticks out against the snowy surroundings and looks distinctly out of place; it should be in a rich pine forest with browns and greens. Mentally critiquing the animal is not what she should be doing. Fear laced adrenaline causes her to clench her right fist tightly as she attempts to shift upwards to appear less prone—less weak. Gathering snow in her palm is so she has something to throw, even if a snow ball is a poor choice against a predator. The animal skids to a stop a little ways away, raising its head towards the sky to scent the air. Is it smelling her blood and judging that she is easy prey?

Teeth grit at the thought, because she has no idea about wolves or whatever dog thing this is. Could noise scare it away or only incite it further? How do you deter a canine? Looking it in the eye may be taken as a challenge or as a warning, but she still stares into its' eyes sharply, trying to project an intimidating aura as she narrows her own. The little quakes racking her paired with the fact she is on her back does not make her cut an imposing figure. A slow step forward is taken as the small wolf lowers its body more to the ground; it must be savoring how easy a kill this will be. Her arm draws back in warning. Will the wolf call her bluff and edge closer? "Go away," she seethes, knowing that saying something to it is a lost cause, but it is eyeing her oddly for an animal, almost thoughtfully. Lunging for her throat or springing forward to pounce should have occurred by now. Why isn't it attacking? Ears fall back, almost dropping at the tone, rather than being pressed flat against the skull in anger. Another step forward is taken and then another, until the wolf is close enough that she thinks she can hit it...The snowball is poorly compacted and falls apart, but some of it lands on its fur, which causes the wolf to shake its head at the action, giving a disgruntled chuff at the coldness.  ...Did she expect that to go any better in her head? No. But it was her only real projectile. The wolf does something unexpected, it sits down like a dog and stares at her with those too human eyes. The forest in summer again comes to mind; a rich hazel that borders on brown like wood bark aside from the lightness around the iris is trained on her. She glares right back. Maybe its not a wolf, because it looks small and lean with a body that seems more agile than powerful. A long snout reminds her of a fox, and those ears that are still down are not really that wolf like either, too floppy... Maybe it's a special breed to this area or something else, not that it matters when it definitely has vicious claws, sharp teeth, and she can't get away. A decision must have been made as it creeps closer with tentative footfalls that barely displace the snow. Her arm is pinwheeled to kick up the remaining snow at her side at it in a last ditch effort for distance, but it keeps coming closer heedless of the weak icy barrage. The coolness likely does not seep through its thick fur. "Stop! Please, just go back!" She raises her voice sharply, distilling a hardness to her tone that causes the near hyperventilating quality of her breathing to abate for a moment as she tries to issue a command to a wild animal. Surprisingly, the wolf does halt its progress, but what it does next has her trying to get away as if the promise of being eaten was only a slight offense. Hazel just flashed a brilliant, glowing electric blue that seemed to pierce through her. Its an unnatural wolf thing. There may be worse things than death. Scrambling away using both hands and legs was a mistake, one that was made more than once as she groans. Her jaw locks like a steel trap as she continues, now on her stomach rather than side to crawl away. Tears feel momentarily warm against her frozen cheeks, before causing the burning to redouble from the wind. Everything hurts. She claws desperately at the snow, trying to get away, because there is no explanation for what she just saw or how odd the creature is in general. Her vision seems to be becoming the view used for wide screen movies; darkness creeps around the edges. She is struggling to make sense of things other than the need to move away, because that creature goes against the natural order.

Its too intelligent, it knows too much. Those eyes. It won't just kill her... Something grabs a fistful of her jacket, tugging backwards to prevent the flagging forward motion. It must have a mouthful of her jacket. She kicks out. Her legs feel like lead weights that she only has a minor degree of control over and no contact was made with a furry body, instead only the inevitable collision back with the hard ground occurs. The additional jolt is nothing compared to the rest of the pain that is maddening at this point, because the adrenaline rush is failing at dampening it. Her actions are catching up with her. An angry sob leaves her when she inelegantly falls face first in the snow. Her arms are shaking and she can't support herself anymore while also resisting the wolf. The grip on her jacket is suddenly replaced by a clamping sensation on her shoulder. There is no tearing or teeth burrowing. What feels like fingers squeeze her shoulder, until another hand is placed flatly on her back. What the Hell? What. The. Fuck. Being turned over slowly causes her to whimper; her eyes screw shut because nothing makes sense and she hates it all. Fighting has gotten her nowhere. Something warm settles on her cheek, and she should look to see what is going on, but she is too cold and tired to care. The whipping wind gains an additional sound, though she can't process what it is except that is softer and more pleasing to the ear. A voice? No, that isn't possible. The falling sensation comes again; this time she does not try and stay upright or grounded against it, allowing herself to go along with it. She gives up. . . . . . . "-the blizzard is only increasing; it took out the power lines. We can't go out in that." "You can't, but I can." A dull bang sounds like someone hit something wooden with their fist. "We can't!" This is half shouted in clear exasperation that may be hiding anger. "Losing anyone else isn't an option, ok? I want to know where he is too, but you can't see, smell, or even hear when it's this bad out, and we don't know what is out there that did that to her. You're not thinking it through, Scott." "He's a part of the pack." Listening to the argument unfolding any further is prevented when warm fingers graze her neck. She stops playing possum. Her eyes snap open to meet startled green ones that reminds her of emerald gemstones. A strawberry blonde girl is sitting on the burgundy upholstered couch she lays on, and may just be checking her pulse, but her right hand wraps tightly around her wrist just in case the action is not so innocent. Only a cursory glance is given to the surroundings, since she feels on edge. Where is she? A ski lodge... Thick wooden logs make up the walls, though it is hard to tell how large the space is when only candle light provides light. She does spot the underside of the A-line architectural support that is made of exposed beams. A few mounted deer heads leer at her with glassy black eyes. One wall boasts a large crackling stone fire place that has ancient crossed ski poles above it as a decoration; this is the main source of warmth and brightens the large 'U' of couches that could fit a dozen or more comfortably. This must be a lobby, not a home, based on the few informational areas and posters she saw. Was she out skiing? Returning her attention to the girl has her pausing, because she is being watched so closely, but there may be fear to that gaze too. Pale skin seems to lack much color, even though the fire is casting warmth on both of them and making the red to her hair more vibrant. Her grip is not that tight, and she was touched first, so why is she being looked at like that? Releasing the hold after moving those probing fingers away occurs; she did not mean to frighten her... "She's up! Thank God." The sudden announcement breaks the silent stare off. A guy with spiked brown hair dashes over to the couch alongside a taller guy with black hair that is somewhat obscured by a beanie. These were the two who were arguing. She simply observes them, unwilling to be the first one to speak, because she has no clue how she got here and would rather not be at a deficit by admitting that. Letting them do the informing is a smart move. "We set your arm back in place, but you may need surgery for the cuff," Stiles explains, coming to kneel beside the couch. Soft brown eyes sweep over her form that has less snow and blood caked on it; however, he is still worried about the injuries, especially when they only have a small first aid kit and makeshift sling on hand. "We bandaged what we could. Also, you will probably need a CT scan because your head has a crack in it like Humpty Dumpty. We will figure it all out, Quimmie." He seems pretty caring, so she nods stiltedly in agreement for him to continue speaking. The taller one, who must be Scott, draws closer, fiddling with a walkie talkie in his hand, before sighing. She waits for him to muster up the will to speak. "I know you're hurting, and I'm sorry, but where is Liam?" Once one question is asked it seems that it breaks the dam so a deluge of them come forward as his dark brown eyes narrow at the faint popping of static that comes from the device. There has not been a check-in in a while. "What happened to your team? Was it the ridge that you investigated or did it come after you on a trail? Were the hikers right, and it's just a crazed wolf or something else?" "You can't ask her all that at once." "Stiles, the temperature is dropping further and he is still out in it." "Yeah, and she just woke up, Scott. So back off." A hand finding her own diverts her focus from another brewing argument between the two. Fingers interlace with her own one at a time with a gentleness that confuses her after how hard everything else has been, so she doesn't immediately resist it. A pinky edges over the row of her digits until her hand is covered and then a hold is formed that she does not return. The question must be evident on her features, because a sad smile of understanding is given; it looks like the girl is trying not to crumble, which she accomplishes, but the underlying cracks are still there for all to see. What did she do to be looked at like that?   "Malia is right..." Stiles practically rounds on both of them, knocking his knees against the edge of the couch at the softly spoken statement. "No, Lyds," he disagrees immediately, before locking eyes with impassive (Y/E/C) that watch him, but do not really take him in or express much emotion. He thought it was from the pain and shock, not because... "What is my name?" "Stiles," she answers correctly, because it was spoken already.

"Scott said it earlier," Lydia points it out calmly.  Stiles runs a hand down his face, not wanting to test the theory that Malia suggested because of what it could mean, but he also knows he needs to. There is a reason the werecoyote is listening from behind the couch and not present with the rest. The earlier fear towards her cut her to the bone. Explaining it away as confusion or discombobulation did not convince Malia, who he tries to not glance directly at, even though he can see the glowing blue to her eyes, because this is upsetting to her. He balls his hands into fists; it can't be that. "What school do we all go to?" She says nothing, but wishes the couch cushions would absorb her into it. "What does our dad do for a living?" He asks it more sharply at the silence that seems to say more than any answer could. No, no, no. A hand is placed on the edge of the couch to keep balance as he sinks to his knees, rather than kneel; he meets her eyes squarely. "Come on, try and answer."   Her brows furrow at this, because she does not look particularly like him for them to be blood related. His features are mentally compared to what she intuitively knows to be her appearance. The skepticism is not voiced.  Being stared in outright disbelief by Stiles makes it clear that anything she could say about the situation would make it worse. "What is your name? Where are we from? What is the year? Who is she-" A hand gestures quickly to Lydia, though he quickly unfolds his fingers so he is not rudely pointing at her, but his palm shakes, "-to you? Malia, come over here and-" "Stiles." Lydia's voice holds a firm warning as she places a hand on his shoulder, pushing him slightly away from the couch edge before he looms closer. She scoots to be blocking his stare that practically tears into them with its desperate edge. He probably does not even realize he was raising his voice, almost shouting out each question so it warped into a demand. "Don't push her; it's not her fault." "She isn't saying anything!" Stiles counters. "It wouldn't be what you all want to hear..." That causes the pack to grow quiet for a moment as they each consider the matter of fact statement. "So, what? You were just going to go along with it?" Scott asks, confused. The realization that they have no idea what they are facing or how Liam is doing also weighs on him in addition to how this amnesia will affect the pack. Did they just lose two friends tonight? He sits down heavily on the coffee table, shooting Malia a sympathetic look to try and silently communicate she needs to dim down. "There are five of you and one of me, not great odds, so-" "We aren't going to hurt you." The vehement interjection causes her to reword the point, though green eyes practically blaze as they meet her own; any of that fear has burned away, replaced with conviction. "I don't know anything about anything," she admits softly, glancing at the red and black plaid blanket draped over her legs to cope with so many people staring at her. Her head still aches and this is tiring. "Waiting to see what you had to say was the logical thing to do. I don't know your intentions, but I wasn't going to lie to you. Thanks for helping me out of the snow..." "That was Malia," Scott supplies automatically. She has the feeling that none of the ones in the seating area is this Malia person, so a nod is given. Stiles rises from the stone floor, trying to figure out how to fix the situation. This is no broken bone that can be set or a cut that needs to be stitched up; her memories are not murky or mixed up, but are completely gone. "Can you please tell us what you do remember?" "Why?"

"So we can help you and our other friend." Scott answers honestly, before Stiles losses the bit of composure he just re-gained. He is in older, adopted brother mode and is obviously upset. "We can answer your questions too." "I didn't say I had any..." "You don't know anything, so you should. Unless being amnesiac is how you want to reinvent yourself before senior year." Stiles snipes, but backs off when his best friend gives him a warning look that does not compare to the one he will get from Lydia and Malia, if he keeps pressing it. He is mad at what happened not her...But she is not acting like his adopted sister, who has been with him for years, but someone else entirely. Fingers pull at the worn tassels of the blanket for a moment as she considers the alternatives, turning them over in her head given how tense things are and her own deficit. They did help her, so being difficult is not her goal. She can't shake that there is something not quite right about them, especially Scott, it makes her feel on guard like there is a potentially hidden deadliness. Why are they in an empty ski lodge? The owners should be present or at least the other customers. She is mostly laying down aside from a pillow that elevates her back, sitting upright would put them more on equal terms, but the pain that will come with moving is considered. "Okay, one quick question: why are you all here alone? This place does not seem to be in operation, so did you break in...?" Scott shares a look with Stiles. Telling the full truth would only work with someone acquainted with the supernatural and all of that must have been wiped away too. He runs his hands down his thighs to stall. "We got, er, permission to come up. There's an unsolved mystery that we are trying to crack. The resort is temporarily closed down, because of it and the blizzard..." He trails off, trying to balance the truth with the lies. "We are trying to help." "You do seem the helpful type," she observes dubiously, before crossing her right arm carefully with her sling encased left. The position helps her feel a bit more distant from their prying eyes; it feels like they are judging her, though that makes sense when she is expected to actually be someone, not a blank slate. She turns her attention to the fire. "I don't know a Liam. I don't know why we were on a team or what our objective was. All I remember is snow: white, cold, burning snow. I was on the ground trying to get up, but failed because everything ached. I actually felt like I was falling..." She presses her lips together, mulling over what else can be said. Those glowing, unnaturally blue eyes come to mind so vividly, it feels like she is staring at the creature again. They probably already think she is crazy enough without mentioning it. "There was a wolf, or maybe it wasn't a wolf, that kept coming towards me. I assumed it would maul me, but it didn't...I'm not sure how it was going to kill me, it seemed too patient and smart, not really like a typical animal. I freaked out and tried to crawl away when it got too close, which made all the pain a lot worse. I fainted. I'm assuming Malia scared it off or dealt with it, because I think I would remember it biting into me...Then I woke up here." Lydia wants to reach out to her, but prevents the urge with how previous attempts were received. She can tell that she is still struggling with the pain on top of everything else; however, the far off look in her eyes must mean something is not being voiced. They still have not shared her name...

"Okay, so everything before the snow is blank?" Stiles confirms, getting a curt nod in response that makes him want to throw something into the flames of the fireplace. This is not how the weekend's mission was meant to go. He is pacing in front of the hearth, chewing on the cap end of a pen as he thinks about where to go from here. She was also their only lead with Liam and the creature. How will his dad react? He's older--the older sibling, and feels responsible for her, and now she's a very familiar stranger..."You're sure that's it? So like an hour or so comprises your entire, new existence?" "Yes, Stiles." He ignores the slight irritation to her tone, because he is busy thinking. "Maybe we can jog her memory?" This is posed to the pack, like his sister is another murder case or mystery that he can add to his pin and red string laden board to puzzle out the connections and causes. He can solve this. "We should wait until my mom sees her and the doctors run legit tests. There may be rules on how to deal with head trauma patients," Scott disagrees gently. "Maybe the head trauma is not the cause...It could be something else?" "She is still healing and we don't know how bad everything is." Scott sees the way Stiles crosses his arm abruptly at the disagreement, annoyed. "I want to help her. We need to find Liam too." "The answer could lie with her if we just try and remind her who she is!" "That could make it worse." Lydia is unsure who she sides with between the two guys, but knows talking about the one in question like she is not present in the room is almost always a bad idea. Malia getting up from the wooden chair that was pulled from behind the receptionist's to rest behind the couch is mostly ignored. Supple leather comprises her winter boots that only make a faint clack against the wood floor. She moves purposefully, ignoring Lydia's questioning look as she rounds the couch and stands in front of it to peer down at its occupant. The lack of recognition causes her to feel a deep ache in her heart, while the early fear left a ragged wound behind. Taking a knee, she tilts her head slightly as she watches (Y/E/C) eyes look her over cautiously, rather than softly, because the one in front of her does not know her. "Uhm, thank you for saving me?" Malia ignores the tentative gratitude. "Malia, I-" Scott's concerned warning is stopped short when Stiles holds up a hand, silently asking for him to let whatever is about to happen unfold. He locks his jaw, knowing how affected his beta was when she arrived back at the lodge. She was practically incoherent in describing what happened, instead whimpering and growling when anyone got too close to the two and unwilling to let go of the one bundled up in her arms. She was more coyote than human... Scott slides to the very edge of the coffee table to intervene, if needed, as a precaution. She looks kind of angry...Hazel eyes are not nearly as searching as the green ones that were first on her, rather they seem to be invasively prying without hesitation. The shoulder length cut to her brown locks frames her face nicely, which makes her gaze that much harder to look away from. Being stared at like some sort of freak show is grating on her patience, so she eventually manages to glance away to look back at the fire, though her view is soon occupied by Malia shifting closer with a challenging look. A lightly tanned hand rests on the back of the couch, effectively caging her in. "If you have something to say, then please go ahead," she requests calmly. "How could you forget about me?"

"It wasn't a choice." "Then why aren't you remembering?" Malia almost snaps out the question. A scoff almost leaves her at the presumption, because this girl is really blaming her...Are they all placing the fault on her alone? Maybe the inkling that something is not right with some of them is because they are actually a threat; the lodge is becoming more inhospitable by the second.  "I can't. It's not like I'm repressing it," she replies sternly. "I don't know my own name, so it's definitely not personal. Get over yourself." "Quim. That is your name" Lydia offers, trying to mediate between the two, though she knows this is hard for Malia. It is hard for her too, but someone has to be on Quim's side as a source of support. "Oh, okay..." Fingers burrow deeply into the upholstery of the couch, nails threaten to extend and rip out the plush stuffing. Her coyote aspect howls in her mind. Malia grits her teeth against the hurt those words just stirred, trying to let anger mask it because she would have never thought this would happen to them. This is not how it should be. Relying on instinct, she surges forward, placing a hand firmly over Quim's heart to pin her in place as she joins their lips without asking for permission. She is her's, so she should not have to. The kiss is forceful, demanding and not at all how a kiss should be...It is also one sided. She is doing all the action, while her partner is frozen and unresponsive, though that stasis eventually breaks for Quim to turn her head away abruptly, before a hand is against her shoulder, pushing away. Trying to move away from Malia causes a sharp pull in her back that earns a wince. Fucking oww. "What the hell are you doing?!" "I was trying to jog your memory!" Malia counters. "You can't just kiss people!" "We've done way more than kiss, Quim!" That causes the indignation to leave her in a rush, making the anger feel unwieldy and too large for her to handle. She retracts her hand from Malia, re-crossing her arms as best she can to serve as a barrier between the two of them. Now, she is more confused. "What...?" "Maybe now isn't the time for this..." Scott attempts to reason with his beta. "Mal-" "My soulmate forgot me!" "Not on purpose." Lydia pipes up, earning a huff from the werecoyote, but at least she is listening to her. She links their hands to try and pull Malia away from the couch edge. "We need to be patient." "How are you handling this well? She forgot you too--both of us!" "Not. By. Choice." "I have two girlfriends...?" Stiles runs a hand down his face at the turn in conversation; this is not going to fix her memory, but of course that is what his sister takes away from the conversation. "Yes," he answers at the perplexed expression, rolling up his shirt sleeve to show his blank wrist. "Soul identifying marks. Ring any bells? No, well, you have two of them, so you have two soulmates, even though it is rare to have even one. Lucky you."  Oh... Green and hazel eyes no longer meet in a silent, tense stare off, settling back on the occupant of the couch. Quim falls silent under their attention, unsure what could be said when forgetting your literal fated other halves.

[siswritesyanderes]

How do you deal with people stealing from you?(writings, arts... and claim it as their own, it really makes me sad and questions myself if I should continue.)

I don’t think that has ever happened to me (and if you see something like that, please tell me), so I can’t really say how I would handle it. My mutuals on my main blog and the people who interact with me on this sideblog have been very good about asking me if it’s okay if they borrow certain ideas or turns of phrase. Off the top of my head, the closest I’ve seen of straight-up plagiarism of my work is either when people repost a yandere ASMR for which I wrote the script on different websites without the ASMRist’s permission (and I don’t really take personal offense at that because I more consider it the ASMRist’s work than mine and also those people always give the original artist credit because he’s popular and his name is part of the prestige of the video, so while I’m not glad they did it, those feelings aren’t personal for me) or that one time when I published a book (when I was like thirteen) and my younger cousin won a school award by basically writing a very similar story, for a writing assignment (and that I found adorable and flattering; I hadn’t even known that he liked the book).

If someone did repost my stuff without credit, I’m sure I would feel pretty annoyed; I get jealous of some pretty petty things sometimes, and it usually tends to center around not getting credit for stuff (like, people have asked me to send them videos of things and then uploaded those videos to YouTube, and all of their comments were like “Thank you for filming and uploading this!” and I felt a little prickly about it for no reason; I didn’t even want credit for filming it, but I was still kinda jealous). The first thing I would probably do, though, would be to read the comments. Because having it posted elsewhere means I might have more comments to read. Before I could even think about politely arranging to get credit for my work without starting a beef with anyone, I would have to read absolutely all of the comments. (Is my Whole Thing becoming that I’m obsessed with comments?)

I’m really sorry to hear that it’s happened to you, though. I’m sorry that I can’t really empathize, but rest assured that you absolutely don’t deserve that kind of betrayal, and I hope that people stop doing it. Separating someone’s work from their name is a pretty insidious way of devaluing the artist and the process that led to the art being made, and it’s inconsiderate of how much artists stand to benefit from exposure. It’s 100% the other person’s fault for doing this to you. If there’s any comfort you can take out of this, let it be that people don’t steal what isn’t valuable. If you need to take a break from sharing your work, I totally understand that and encourage you to do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable again. But I hope this doesn’t make you stop creating.

[apharine]

The First Annual Staff Party of the Castle That Never Was

Chapter 1: Rumors and Wagers

Pairing:  Reader/Organization XIII

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Rating:  M

Read on AO3

Summary:  [Reader-insert Seven Minutes in Heaven with Organization XIII] When you woke up, you were expecting a quiet day off from missions, shared with no-one but yourself. But your day off went terribly, almost predictably, wrong, and by that evening, you'd been roped into contributing towards a potluck dinner and playing some mashup of Seven Minutes in Heaven and Spin the Bottle with your Organization XIII colleagues. Kingdom Hearts help you.

Notes:  Hey all!  I’m the author Apharine over on AO3, but you can call me Kana here on Tumblr!  My main blog on Tumblr is all serious stuff and I wanted a place where I can post my fanfics and fandom-related contributions and talk to people about KH, so I’m making this sideblog!  I always follow back and will try to be regular in my updates, and might even take requests at some point, too!

                                         _____________________

    When you walked into the Grey Area after a late breakfast, the rumors were flying more quickly than an Air Soldier Heartless.

    “Hey, you might be the last one to have heard,” Axel beamed at you as soon as you stepped in the common space, obviously overjoyed to share the news.  With one lanky arm around your shoulders, the redhead navigated you into the center of an absolutely packed Grey Area.  It seemed nobody was currently on a mission, which was extremely unusual – you thought you were the only one with today off.  What was going on?  The couches were jam-packed, and even the standing area around them was full, every Nobody unusually animated and talkative.  “Luxord apparently finally got Xemnas to make a wager with him!  It - ”

    “The Superior would never do such a thing,” Saix’s deep voice interrupted Axel’s eager chatting as the blunette approached, clipboard in hand.  “And according to my notes, Axel, you should currently be in Agrabah –”

    “Nobody’s going anywhere today, Treasure-Face,” Xigbar drawled from where he sprawled on the couch next to Demyx, who was strumming his sitar and adding to the already clamorous background noise.  “Go Berserk on them all if you want, but it’s a battle you’re still going to lose.”

    “We have an Organization to run, Number Two,” Saix returned, but Xigbar had already turned around and was chatting with Larxene, who was leaning against the back of the couch.

    “I heard Zexion say that they were betting on the outcome of Vexen’s current Replica project,” Demyx said to you conspiratorially.  Beside you, Saix’s grip on his clipboard tightened just incrementally.

    “They would not –“ Saix began, but was cut off by Marluxia, who had just traded spots with Xaldin on the opposite couch.

    “I heard from a rather reliable source that they were betting on which of the recent worlds we’ve acquired would prove to be more strategic for us,” the botanist announced, leaning casually on the armrest of the couch.

    “They’re all strategic, and producing many hearts,” Saix interrupted, trying desperately to reassert authority.  “Marluxia, you’re supposed to-“

    “I heard that they were betting on who could win the trivia night at that bar in Hollow Bastion,” Xigbar laughed, cutting Saix off yet again.  You were certain that the Freeshooter was just doing it to piss the Diviner off…and to stir up trouble.  Surely Xemnas would never bet on something as frivolous as that – would he?

    Xigbar’s comment set off the firestorm that he had intended.  Everybody exploded in a downright brouhaha of what they’d heard, what they thought, and why certain theories were a bad or good idea – all at once.  Even Lexaeus, normally as silent as Nobodies were known to come, was chattering with Zexion and Vexen in a little huddle.  The sheer noise of the Nobodies was startling; hadn’t anybody designed this place with decent acoustics, or did everything echo here?

    “Wait, Axel,” you shouted over the cacophony.  “I don’t get it.  Just because Xemnas made a bet – what’s the big deal?”

    “Well, there’s only one outcome when you bet with Luxord,” Axel shouted back over the din, leaning down towards you.  “So, naturally, Xemnas lost.”

                                        _____________________

    Speculation could only last so long, and eventually, the crowd died out, trailing off to do whatever it was Nobodies did on their collective self-appointed day off.  Eventually, you, Demyx, and Axel were the only ones left in the Grey Area with Saix, who was still seething.  Demyx didn’t care about the bluenette’s anger; after all, he never cared anyway and would barely have done the mission even on a normal day.  Axel and Saix, you knew, were pretty close, so Axel probably didn’t feel nervous even when he was the target of Saix’s irritation.  And you – well, this actually was your day off, so what was the Diviner going to do to you?

    “It’s pitiable,” Saix growled, “that one little rumor is enough to send our infrastructure crumbling to the ground.  We should all be better than this,” he added, casting a sidelong glance at Demyx, who was showing you how to play a C chord on the sitar and really not listening at all.

    “Yeah,” Axel said absent-mindedly.  “I guess we should be.  But, you know, the funny thing is that I think around when Luxord first joined the Organization, he made a wager with me that he could get Xemnas to lose a bet.  So, even though it’s been years, I guess I’ve lost that one.  I’m honestly kind of nervous about what’s in it for me, now.”

    “Wait, wait, wait,” Demyx said, letting go of your hand where he’d been positioning it on the neck of his sitar.  “You made that bet, too?  I did the same thing when Lux first joined!”

    “Yeah, me too, when I first joined,” you agreed, a bit taken aback.  Soon, all eyes were on Saix.

    “I…” he trailed off, and you almost wondered if there wasn’t a touch of a blush rising to his cheeks.  You tried to suppress a smile; he took himself so seriously!  “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible.  You and Axel exchanged a glance, and you knew he was thinking the same thing as you; how many others were there who had been caught up in this?  Or was it just the four of you?

    A tap on your shoulder made you jump and almost let out a yelp.  You twisted around, surprised, terrified of finding Luxord or Xemnas waiting for you.  But no, it was just a Dusk, politely handing you a playing card.  You frowned and took it, turning it over to reveal its face, as the Dusk went around, politely handing out cards to everyone else in the room before stalking off.

    “You have been summoned to Where Nothing Gathers for a lunchtime meeting.  Arrive at noon promptly,” you read aloud.  There was no signature; there didn’t need to be.  Every one of you knew who had distributed these memos.

                                        _____________________

    You and Larxene entered Where Nothing Gathers together, finally having fallen silent from all of your shared speculation.  She, too, had made that same bet with Luxord when she joined the Organization.  How many others were there?  Had Xemnas really lost?  Moreover, were you all totally, royally screwed?

    “See you,” Larxene said with a small grimace and a shrug of her shoulders before parting ways with you to take her place on her throne.

    “See you,” you echoed, sure your face looked as bewildered as hers, though it was oddly reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one confused and a little afraid.

    Demyx was the last one to take his place on his throne, somewhat unsurprisingly.  The Superior sat and waited for him in stolid, stony silence, his face betraying nothing.  For a long moment, it looked like he wasn’t even going to speak.

    “So why are we all gathered here today, in Where Nothing Matters?” Xigbar asked to no one in particular, kicking back and looking quite amused with himself.

    “Gathers,” Saix growled.  “Where Nothing Gathers.”  Xigbar only grinned and shrugged; it was obvious to everyone that today was an ideal day for him to stir up some trouble, and he was loving it.

    “We are gathered here, at this abrupt hour,” Xemnas spoke, his deep, resounding voice silencing all others.  “Because our Number Ten has an announcement to make.  You will all follow his every order without exception.  Do I make myself clear?”

    Around the room, everybody nodded slowly, and all eyes shifted to Luxord on his throne.

    “Greetings, colleagues!”  He chirped out in his British accent, sounding so cheerful that the sharp contrast to Xemnas’ monotone was startling.  “I understand that various rumors are flying around the Castle, and I want to make one thing perfectly clear: whatever you’ve heard, it’s all true.  Now,” he grinned, looking out at everyone with a dangerous light in his blue eyes.  Your stomach turned; what were you all in for?  Never before had Xemnas announced that you were all to follow any orders other than his or Saix’s, and Saix was really just an extension of the Superior, anyway.  “I’d like to announce that tonight, at eight o clock, we will be holding our First Annual Staff Party in the Hall of Empty Melodies.”  Luxord paused for effect, beaming out at his audience.

    “You’re serious?”  Marluxia spoke up, interrupting the silence.

    “Besides the Superior’s orders,” Xaldin snapped.  “I see no reason to attend this Staff Party.  It’s frivolous and a distraction to our plans.”

    “Well,” Luxord answered cheerily.  “The funny thing is, Xaldin, you may recall a bet that we made when I first joined the Organization…”  He trailed off for a moment, and the Whirlwind Lancer frowned, slumping in his seat.  “I do believe that you’ve lost that bet today.  In fact, I do believe you’ve all lost that bet today,” Luxord added.  You glanced around the room; Luxord had roped literally everyone in the Organization into this somehow?  “And unless you want to encounter the Superior’s anger, or you want to find out how unpleasant it is to break the terms of a contractually-binding bet with me, you will be in the Hall of Empty Melodies at eight tonight.  Dress is casual, jeans and a shirt are fine.”

    “Hey, Lux,” Xigbar called up, wasting no time.  “Is it bring your own beer?”

    “Potluck!  Potluck!”  Demyx started chanting, pumping his fists in the air and obviously thrilled at the idea of a party.  You sighed, slumping into your seat the same way that Xaldin had in his.  This was going to be a very long day off.

                                        _____________________

    Thanks to Demyx, Luxord actually had adopted the potluck idea, and you and Larxene had to go out together to pick some food up, since most of the rest of the kitchen was being dominated by Nobodies who were surprisingly eager to do some cooking.  You weren’t thrilled about having to spend the munny, but had to admit, it was kind of fun getting ready for a party with the only other girl in the Organization.

    “Which one?”  Larxene asked you, holding two tops up.  She wasn’t too into the whole casual-dress affair, and was enjoying getting a little dolled up for once.  Her fervor for it was infectious, and you had to admit, you were enjoying it just a little, too.  “I like the silver one, but then I’ll have to find a different bra, because this one is so dark it’ll just show right through it.  But the other top’s cute, too, and I can wear this bra with it, and let’s be real…it’s my best bra.  What do you think?”

    Before you could open your mouth, a very familiar voice interrupted.

    “Definitely the silver one,” Xigbar announced, vanishing through a portal in Larxene’s wall before she could manage to electrocute him – though not for lack of effort on her part.

                                        _____________________

    You and Larxene were among the first at the party.  Luxord had, of course, already beaten you to the Hall of Empty Melodies, and greeted you both with a one armed hug and peck on the cheek when he saw you.

    “Wonderful to see you both, so glad you could make it.  Potluck food on the table to the right,” he announced.  “Do mingle with the other girls; you’ve likely seen them around some places, Traverse Town, Hollow Bastion, that sort of thing.  They’re all good friends of mine, all have lost bets, you’re all in the same boat so do try to be friendly, loves.  Vexen!  Wonderful to see you…”  The Gambler of Fate moved on from you two as you shuffled toward the table to the right, as directed, eyeing whatever-it-was that Vexen had cooked up and was carrying in.  It looked gelatinous and very concerning.

    The staff party, it turned out, was a lot of fun.  Xigbar had brought some beer, Marluxia had brought some liquor, and you were sufficiently tipsy, your voice slightly hoarse from socializing and cheering on various beer pong teams, by the time ten o clock came around.

    “All right everyone,” Luxord called above the din.  “Gather round, circle up, come along now.”  Slowly, like a herd shuffling into place, the partygoers – yourself included – moved into Luxord’s ascribed position.  “Next up, we’ll be playing a game.”

    “King’s cup!”  Axel shouted.

    “No, no,” Luxord grinned with a little chuckle.  “Maybe later, though I’m certain some of you will be quite done for the night after that.  We’ll be starting with something a bit new, something that we couldn’t have done quite so well if not for the ladies present tonight.  Who here has heard of Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

    You and Larxene exchanged glances.  Oh, God, you thought, and you could see the same look written across her face.  Things had been going too well for you all as a group that had lost a bet with Luxord; you should’ve known it couldn’t last.

    The game had to be slightly modified, since it turned out that nearly nobody had any small, insignificant trinket to be contributed to pull out of a hat.  It was almost embarrassing, watching member after member of the Organization offer either munny, pocket lint, or their weapons to be put into the pool.

    Before Luxord attempted to collect from Xemnas, he gave up, redistributing the possessions back to their respective owners (give or take the pocket lint).

    “Somebody grab a bottle, I know you’ve all drank more than a few together so far,” he instructed as he struggled to move Saix’s Claymore back to him.  Saix, in exchange, gave him the requested bottle, looking extraordinarily nonplussed.  “We’ll determine who spins first by having the girls draw cards.  The first lady to pull the Ace of Hearts goes first.  Let’s see…Larxene, why don’t you start us off?”  The Gambler approached your friend, who was seated to your left with a very plain grimace on her face.  Luxord didn’t seem to notice or care, offering her a deck of cards fanned out in his hands.  With a small, angry groan of frustration in the back of her throat, Larxene drew the card from the far right.  You watched closely as your friend turned it over, revealing the Jack of Spades.  Her posture and face relaxed as she handed the card back to Luxord.

    “Next,” Luxord announced, moving the deck to you.  You sighed and shut your eyes, pulling from the deck at random.  When you opened them, you found the Ace of Hearts staring back at you.

    Just your luck.

    Setting your face into as unperturbed an expression as you could muster, you handed the card back to Luxord, who held it up for the group to see.  Surprisingly, the group remained silent as you walked toward the center of the circle, where the bottle lay.  You took a deep breath and knelt down, giving it a spin – not too hard, but not too gentle, either.  The little brown bottle turned around and around, wobbling and wobbling, until finally, it slowed, and when it stopped…