#i'm the harbinger of failure

[astropithecus]

Diet Crystal Pepsi. Frito Lay Lemonade. Watermelon-flavored Oreos. Through the years, the shelves of stores have been filled with products that turned out to be flops, failures, duds, and losers. But only briefly filled with them, of course, because products like these tend to get yanked from stores quickly, leaving most consumers to wonder: Who exactly buys these things, anyway? Now a published study co-authored by two MIT professors answers that question. Amazingly, the same group of consumers has an outsized tendency to purchase all kinds of failed products, time after time, flop after flop, Diet Crystal Pepsi after Diet Crystal Pepsi. The study calls the people in this group “harbingers of failure” and suggests they provide a new window into consumer behavior. “These harbingers of failure have the unusual property that they keep on buying products that are taken from the shelves,” says MIT marketing professor Catherine Tucker, co-author of a paper detailing the study’s results. Significantly, Tucker adds, these star-crossed consumers can sniff out flop-worthy products of all kinds. “This is a cross-category effect,” Tucker explains. “If you’re the kind of person who bought something that really didn’t resonate with the market, say, coffee-flavored Coca-Cola, then that also means you’re more likely to buy a type of toothpaste or laundry detergent that fails to resonate with the market.”

Let me just say, this is a hell of a way to find out they quit making that coffee-flavored coke you liked.

[salsflore]

thinking about childe’s family noticing that he feels and looks more like his old self whenever he’s with me. i.e that little sparkle in his eye returns and he feels so much more like their ajax rather than the tartaglia he is to everyone else. and also he- (buildings tumble) (explosion noise) (atomic bomb) (ice age x8) (world shatters) (economy collapses) (great depression)

[blood-teeth]

"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 

In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.

This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.

Or you could be its extinction.

YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN

THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.

THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.

THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.

THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.

THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.

DEMO (coming soon!) - PLAYLIST - FAQ

[edgeray]

Peruere is a Person.

Inspired by my blurb series, "Arlecchino is a Person."

A/N - I did not write this. This was written by my wonderful friend @myfriendscallmebun. However, she didn't want to post it on her blog, so I'm posting it for her. All I did was some minor editing a little bit but almost every single word (minus like 2 or 3 words) was written by her. Every single like, comment, or reblog on this post is for her. I claim no ownership over this piece.

Arlecchino is not a person.

The Knave, Arlecchino, Father of the House of the Hearth, Fourth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers is not a person: she is a personification of lies and deceit spread amongst the populace, a conglomeration of exaggerated half-truths spread by veteran Fatui to scare the new recruits. Made of misconceptions and inferred information that paints a picture of a crazed and ruthless assassin–a wolf in sheep's clothing in essence; a bloodthirsty and manipulative patriarch whose tongue draws as much blood as the blade she so rarely uses. 

She’s a woman whose title alone carries a reputation that paralyzes opponents who catch just a whisper of her name. A woman whose flames scorch at the heels of those who were frozen in place by her ice cold presence alone. Arlecchino is a name that has people moving aside to let her pass by, a name that mothers hear and pull their children back into the houses from. She’s everything they say: a boogeyman–an icy breath you feel down your neck in your last waking moments, the shadows lurking around corners when you least expect; the thin veneer of an aloof diplomat that barely conceals the true mania beneath its surface. Arlecchino is at once everything she is made out to be, and nothing at all. Because Arlecchino is not a person, nor has she ever been.

Peruere is a person. She’s a woman, about 30 years old and 5’7”, although you wouldn’t realize it because she’s always wearing heels. She’s a woman who took on a title and responsibility far too young, a woman who was thrust into adulthood and the brutal world of the Fatui too early. She’s a woman who keeps few friends, and keeps her own children at an arm's length. She’s someone who has seen those around her–friend, ally, foe, and bystanders–be scorched and burned away to ash by her own hands. 

She’s someone who keeps her kids on a tight leash and strict discipline regiment, but the leash she keeps on herself is tighter. She allows her children to reprieve from the rules every now and then–turning a blind eye when they take a cookie before dinner, allowing them to keep a lizard they found as a pet for a while–but she does not afford herself the same. She’s harsh on herself, keeping every moment of her day regimented and as strict as the schedule she had growing up. Her children will live and experience far better than what she had, but she will still silently carry the burden of that time with her. 

Peruere is a person who is willing to look Dottore in the eyes–a man who she has watched take away what remaining, broken and mangled siblings she had, and knew full well what would be happening to them once they left with him- she is willing to look him in the eyes and allow him to experiment with her, with the balemoon bloodfire that curses her veins, on the hope that something good may come of it, something that can help her children.

She’s a woman who loves her kids, no matter how she can’t seem to show it. She’s a woman whose affection lies in the unspoken words behind what she actually says. 

“You’re home late.” (“I was worried about you.”) 

“Impulsiveness leads to failure.” (“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”)

“Your defense was weak, I know I’ve taught you better.” (“I cannot bear to lose another child out in the field. Please.”) 

Peruere is a woman who in some deep, dark part of her chest that she doesn’t like to acknowledge, allows herself to yearn for normality. She stares out her windows at the crowds of pedestrians and citizens making their way through the streets of Fontaine, “People-watching is a rather pleasant activity, in my opinion.” (“I would join them, if they would allow me.”) 

Peruere is a person who allows others to dictate what she should be–she allows the rumors and misconceptions to run freely amongst those who dare utter her name, even adding fuel to the metaphorical fire by being sure to live up to the reputation others have created for her. She allows her image to be muddy, full of contradictions and mistruths, and more than some mixing-ins of her predecessor. “It’s beneficial,” she says. (“It’s easier to be what people expect you to be, than to be yourself.”) 

Peruere is a person, even despite her best attempts to hide it.

[facelesssbirds]

Dancing In The Rain || Genshin

A.N. I found that some of these were longer than others, which I'm so sorry for <33 Enjoy! You dance in the rain, with, or without them. Implied F!Reader, Neuvillette, Dottore, Kaveh, Arlecchino Warning: None, though the Harbinger sections makes allusions to their "work,"

Neuvillette had never liked the rain, it was a reminder of his duty, a sick, twisted sign of his failures. He was the reason for the rain today, a court trial having just been finished when you had burst in, long after everyone else had left. Only he remained, standing in the centre of the room almost dramatically.

"Neuvillette," You spoke softly, setting down the umbrella you had been carrying to look at him.

He may've looked calm, composed even, but you could tell he was a mess, his face set in a firm frown, but his eyes softened when they met yours. You took his hand, quiet, intimate.

"Dance with me." You murmured, coming to rest your hand on his shoulder.

He frowned, looking around the court room, askew with chairs, desks and other obstacles, "We can't dance here," he said, a hint or remorse peaking into his voice, it was was hoarse from speaking all day.

You nodded in agreement, listening to the rain outside grow louder, a crack of thunder in the far off distance. Smiling, almost hesitantly you lead him out the doors, through the large, grandiose halls of the opera and out into the pouring rain, your umbrella long forgotten.

"We'll simply dance in the rain," You said, ignoring his protests, and forcing him into a ballroom waltz.

His hand slipped to your waist with little resistance, the harsh droplets of rain softening, wetting both of you to the bone. You should be miserable, standing here, dancing in the rain, and yet, a smile comes to your face, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of sunshine peaks through those dark, looming clouds.

Dottore was a man of science, cold and cynical, but the seemingly unending rain of the Sumeru Jungles bothered him more than he cared to admit. Omega had gotten some water in through his eye sockets, normally this wouldn't be an issue that he would deal with, and Omega could've just taken care of it himself, but naturally the idiot (himself) had ignored every sign of malfunction to work on the god project.

The one bright side was that he got to visit you, you oh, beautiful, perfect, you who stayed in Sumeru as a street dancer, and a scholar, despite the akademiya's terrible treatment of someone as perfect as you. That truly, was the only reason he was out in the rain, watching as you, despite being drenched in the warm rain, preformed a beautiful dance, your aerial dance had long been discarded, you hadn't wanted to ruin the silks, he assumed.

Truly, though, he was your only spectator. The only watcher of your fruitless efforts. The market had long since closed down, but you had barely seemed to notice, your eyes focused solely on completing your routine. He smirked from under his mask, watching as finally, your dance ended, your chest heaved as he offered you his umbrella, shielding you from the rain.

"Are you finished already, darling?" He questioned, watching as you glanced up at him, surprised.

"Zandik!" You gasped, your eyes widening, though you grinned, "I didn't know you were in town-"

He chuckled, "I had... matters, to attend to, and of course, I had to stop by and see you, my darling."

You giggled, giving him a look, "Well, then, I suppose you owe me a dance for being gone for so long."

"In the rain?" He mused, "Darling, perhaps we should wait, you could catch a cold--"

You hush him, patting his shoulder, "Oh it'll be fine~"

He huffs, but complies, his hands coming to your waist, watching as you revel in the feeling of water hitting your face, soaking you to the bone. He'll be there to nurse you back to help after you get sick, either way.

Kaveh was a hard worker, you knew, and sometimes, he worked a little too hard. You had stopped by his and Al haitham's house, looking for Kaveh, who had promised to go on a date with you, only to learn he had been in the library since yesterday.

Naturally, you were worried, thanking Al Haitham before running off to go look for your beloved. The rain hardly stopped you, running into the library drenched, your rain jacket soaked, and your hair a mess. The Library was empty, the lights shut off as you perused, looking for your darling little blonde.

"Kaveh," You mumbled when you saw him, rushing over to his sleeping form.

He was hunched over books and a intricate blueprint of some architectural design, it was beautiful, almost as breathtaking as him, even sleeping with ink smudged on his cheek he looked perfect. You knew he thought the same about you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes in an instant to sit up, nuzzling into your arms for a hug.

"Darling!" He said into your arms, not minding the cold wet water drenching you, only for him to quickly turn sad, "I forgot-- shit-- I'm so sorry--"

You cut him off patting his back, "Kaveh, it's fine really, just-- rest." You said firmly, giving him a stern stare.

He grinned, looking out at the glass balcony behind him, before deviously turning to you, "Say... do you like dancing?"

You raised an unamused-- slightly confused-- brow, "It's fun, yes, but really--"

You were cut off by him practically dragging you towards the balcony, opening the door, not minding as rain wetted his clothes, his hair, his face, smudging his makeup and washing off the ink stuck to his cheek.

"Dance with me." He muttered, breathlessly, looking out at the rain, the air surrounding him, at you.

And, god, those eyes. You couldn't help but comply, spinning out as you waltzed, a night to remember for you both.

Arlecchino had always enjoyed ballroom dancing, the elegant refinery of performance. She had taught the children how to dance when they were young, cultivating dance into an art form of itself, a show that must always go on. And now, the performance they had made Fontaine was finished, only the epilogue to be enacted.

"Father." Lyney said, bowing slightly, "This performance has been finished."

Arlecchino smiled, restrained in elegance, sharp as a knife and hard as an edge, "Very good. Fetch your Mother for me, Lynette."

Lynette nodded, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared, a flurry of wind replacing her, sleight of hand at its finest. Arlecchino directed her eyes towards Fontaine, unaware of the hours that would soon await it as the sun set.

"Arlecchino, darling-" You came to stand beside her, smiling, "You called?"

She nodded, looking over at you, tracing your shoulder, "Yes, walk with me one. One last performance."

You glanced up surprised, "Of course."

And so, it was. Arlecchino's hands gripped yours as you walked through the garden, marveling at the sunset, and the looming clouds in the distance.

"Arle..." You murmured softly, "It's going to rain soon. We should head back inside."

Arlecchino's grip on your hand tightened, "Nonsense. Dance with me," She smirked, her free hand coming to play with your hair, before trailing down to your waist in slow, languid movements. You couldn't ever resist this woman.

"I suppose I must," You say, sighing through a smile, watching as rain hits the pavement around you. Soon, you too will be drenched, but happier than before, after all, dancing with your darling was something everyone wishes for.

[ori-anna-v-58008]

HOUR 43

I ran out of adrenaline a long time ago, I'm pretty sure. The stores get refilled every time I suit up for the cockpit. I can't do my job without it. But I haven't been in the cockpit in days, as I earned.

I missed a shot. My hands jolted with pain and I gripped them tight in shock, squeezing the trigger into the horizon. I missed so badly that Handler called for immediate retreat like she was reading my last rites over the sound of explosions less distant than any of us would've liked. I haven't been given an assignment since.

I wanna prove myself. I have to prove myself. My body is so weak, and I miss THIMBLE terribly. But to earn her, to earn the right to feel like myself again, I have to prove I can overcome that weakness. This tremble, this pain, this uselessness means nothing if I don't let it. That's what Handler always says.

I hoist my rifle in my hands. I've come to know this weapon like it is a part of me, and yet every movement is still paired with a shock of pain and weakness, the gun suddenly becoming so much heavier than I can manage. I suppose it only feels like it belongs to me from behind THIMBLE's powerful, capable, useful form.

I hear the shifting noise of a target zooming through the shooting gallery and send three shots whizzing straight past it. The first two crush into my shoulder, my willpower as weak as my hands to keep the gun steady. I clamp my fingers shut, wincing and whining and biting my tongue, forcing my hand to keep it steady. When the trigger snaps back into place it nearly breaks my finger.

And the only thing I can think, failure after failure piling up as the target disappears behind a wall, is that it should hurt so much more. Adrenaline isn't the only thing I'm out of - chemicals that dull my pain when I succeed, or maximize it when I fail. Both my stores are completely empty. I hear a small beep, usually the harbinger of the horrible pain I adore, and instinctively flinch. Handler offers a pitying frown when I do that. I used to lurch for her when it happened, limply trying to steal her contact. She would take single step back, and the pain would only worsen as she looked on with still grief for me, whispering about how sorry she was. I don't do that anymore.

I hear another shk noise behind me. I whip around, swinging my rifle like it's a lead golf club, and my sights fall on Handler standing by the entrance, completely unarmored as though I were some banal pet and not a supposedly battle-hardened soldier. She either knew I wouldn't shoot, or knew I would miss. I lower my rifle, breathing in jagged chunks, my back arched toward the floor. Her eyes fell on me, regarding me like near-dead roadkill.

"Poor thing. Were you trying to impress me?"

I nod, sending her into a chorus like one hears when a kitten fails a jump.

"Come, pilot. Let's get those stores refilled. Maybe you'll land a shot if you have some kind of incentive... Those hands are getting you nowhere."

[starsfic]

5 Headcanons for a Chimera fairy tale AU

Ooh!

I'm imagining something like Dimension 20's Neverafter, where fairytales are retold over and over again, thanks to the sacrifice of the Harbinger of the End starting the cycle over and over again. Until Xiangliu gets involved...

Qi Xiaotian is a normal delivery boy in a red hood. Long Xiaojiao is supposed to be the beauty in the Beauty and the Beast and Red is supposed to be a dashing knight, but Xiaojiao ended up cursed into a dragon form and Red is unsure of his destiny after his attempt at a quest resulted in him being captured for several years.

All three meet on the road on the way to FFM where a powerful sorcerer should be able to help Xiaojiao. Red decides to go along with her on hopes of helping her will make up for his past failure and Xiaotian is just going that way.

Somehow, it turns into all three on a quest to find the Harbinger in hopes that the world can be fixed

Over the story, Red starts experimenting with his gender, Xiaojiao gets really attached to her dragon form, and all three feel a personal connection start to form. Unfortunately, things start to point to a member of their trio being the Harbinger.

Extra one, Dragonfruit fulfill the Beauty and the Beast story and Xiaotian feels like a third wheel.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(This is my first ask, like ever. Sorry if it’s messy! I wanted to give rollo a present!)

Hi Hii! look Rollo! I know it’s not much but I thought you might like it *Holds up bouquet of (fake) crimson flowers, delicately crafted from varying types of paper.*

the paper cuts were worth it.

The bouquet was beautiful.

Each crimson flower was expertly crafted. Petals in an array of solid red shades folded to sharp points cupped their centers. You had taken glimmering tissue paper--pale yellow, orange, and pink-- and swathed each flower with them, creating the illusion of a halo of light.

Just like that of the real fire lotuses.

A reminder of his failure, a fistful of salt rubbed in a raw wound.

Rollo scoffed at the irony. The students of Night Raven College truly do excel at the art of torment.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" he demanded.

You met him with a face like an open book, shining with innocence (or, as Rollo interpreted it, ignorance). "Neither of us is laughing, so I'd say I'm being pretty serious!"

You raised a hand and gave your fingers a playful wiggle. Band-aids with cartoonish depictions of the Great Seven wrapped around most of your digits.

"The paper cuts were worth it! The flowers came out great."

Rollo's eyes burned with suspicion. "And what, may I ask, was the rationale in gifting a paper bouquet?"

A taunting hiss curled by his ear. Liar, phony, deceiver, sinner. You avert your gaze from the truth.

“I wanted to give you actual flowers, but I figured those aren’t a good metaphor for a long-standing relationship,” you confessed with a light laugh. "You know, since they'd wither and die.”

You indicated the bouquet. "That's why I went with paper ones. They're flowers that will never fade--so our friendship will never fade either!"

He frowned. "Excuse me? I do not recall acknowledging you in that kind of capacity.”

“Oh, don’t worry! I know you’ll warm up to me eventually.”

Grinning, you let the bouquet fall into Rollo’s arms. The flowers were almost weightless and without sound, only a soft rustle to them as they found their new home.

With him, the harbinger of the fire lotuses.

“Now that was most certainly a joke,” Rollo grumbled.

He was no less amused than he had been at the very start. Again, the irony of it was not lost on him.

[fatuismooches]

SMOOCHES!!! Hii darling !! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

ohmigosh i swear whenever you respond to my asks, my brain exploded with ideas its crazy and i love u sm for it <33 but anyways this kinda tied down to my recent brainrot b4 this, so since fragile!reader was in a coma for hundreds of years, the first time they probably tried getting out of bed and walking on their own two feet was probably an absolute failure 😭 fragile!raedrr probably looked like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time. to say it was cute but also embarrassing is an understatement. also THATS SO TRUE! reader would literally beg Zandik and every single clone to go outside to see Snezhnaya, but since their health is so fragile it’s such a huge risk that they can’t take :(( so they’re usually just looking out the window to see if they can even catch a glimpse of Snezhnaya’s city. also adding onto Zandik being more mature and different from the Akademiya, reader probs has so so many questions on what happened while they slept, like what do you mean he has power that can match even the gods?! fragile!raeder would probably be so amazed but also scared that their own lover, THE Zandik, the outcast from Sumeru, turned to become the 2nd Harbinger, and have so much strength. ALSOOOO lifting up his mask and seeing the new scars littered on his face </3 reader would probably be so worried and ask “does it still hurt?” AHHHH it’s past 12 AM but this man has had such a grip on me the whole day. Currently sick rn, hopefully I’ll get better. But ANYWAYS I love you so so much smooches make sure you take breaks and stay healthy in college I know it must be really stressful. Just know I’ll be giving you a bunch of chu chus. <33

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon ౨ৎ

HI 🎐 ANON!! <33 I'm so glad I inspired you wabdbedbdw that's so cute ily more ❤️❤️ And RELATABLE 🎐 ANON i can't go a day without thinking of this crazy doctor man smh,, and omg i hope you feel better 😭 i'm responding a bit late but hopefully you feel better by now!! Make sure to rest a lot and don't push yourself okay? Staying up until 12 AM isn't good for you!! 😤🥺 Thank you luckily I've been coping well in college, it's just that is SO!! hot and walking to class has me sweating hard unfortunately 😅 Anyway- MOVING ON TO DOTTORE!!

I didn't even think about that- poor fragile reader would have to relearn SO many basic things. At first you'd be stubborn about accepting help - because well... obviously you feel embarrassed and upset that you need help doing something that should be easy to you, from a man as powerful as Dottore nonetheless - but... eventually you have to. At least baby Zandy holds your hand the whole time to steady you ❤️

YEAAA the clones and Dot probably can guess what you are about to say with EASE when you come up to them with a pleading "🥺" expression. They really do feel bad about rejecting you, especially when your shoulders droop and you let out that little dejected sigh that they've gotten used to hearing... You just want to know about the world outside, to explore just like how you once used to in the Akademiya... to venture into the unknown with your beloved. At least there are some really pretty picture books of Snezhnaya, and they always bring you souvenirs from their expeditions <33

Reader would be literally bouncing off the walls in excitement when they hear all of the stories Zandik has to tell 🥺 They want EVERY piece of the story down to the most minuscule detail. I mean, how could you not want the whole story when he went from this random guy in the Akademiya to a HARBINGER? In the Fatui? Those same people who used to watch y'all in the desert and forest?? 😨 And now you're saying this whole lab and space belongs to you too? Zandik, we have hundreds of years of catching up to do and you're not letting him go until he recounts everything <33

OH MY GOD THE SCARS😭😭 TEARSSS I didn't think about how he'd get the scars after you fell asleep- you would be wondering why he wears that mask nonstop until he finally relents and lets you take it off... :( your heart would just break as you softly kiss the scarred skin and trace it with your fingers. It probably doesn't hurt anymore but it aches when you touch it so tenderly...

[c0rrupt4]

𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘆 •︎ Il Dottore x Male Reader

This is the prologue of the book on Wattpad, you can read it here

"Why Shouldn't I get rid of you and your incompetent team!? Let me hear your reasons! I'm sure they're just as laughable as your team's performance!"

The deep red hue of blood was all over the man's lab and face, pouring out even more from the victim it came from. The man in question... Il Dottore, the second of the Fatui harbingers, is a madman who dislikes failure. A man with great accomplishments, but has less patience than a grain of salt.

"Lord- Lord Dottore!" The female Fatui captain said in between gasps, attempting to regain her breath. It doesn't help that Dottore's greatsword was impaled through her chest.

"After extensive research, our team found a gateway to another-" The Fatui captain's words were cut off as she coughed up blood.

"To another world!"

Dottore was stunned.. he was quiet for a few moments before he turned to the papers he laid on his desk. The ones he was planning to rip up in her face as he mocked before finally murdering her...

"So.. these papers? Is it the research your team did while you forsaken my own research? I don't believe someone as insignificant as you could do such a thing."

"It's- It's true my Lord! If you would just be gracious enough to give me another chance! I can prove it to you! Under Sumeru there-"

Dottore quickly cut off the Fatui captain, "I do not wish to go back Sumeru. Such foolish people are there, even if I discover an entryway to another planet. They would entirely reject it just because it's my project. Besides, I do not wish to be rejected once more."

"M-my Lord... Lord Dottore if I must insist, will you please, please hear me out and give me another chance to finish this research!"

"Fine continue you have 2 minutes to change my mind," Dottore said as he quickly set a timer and grabbed the project notes to view.

"One moment my, Lord."

The Fatui captain stood up straight and stopped leaning against the counter. She braced herself. Then proceeded to pull Dottore's claymore out of her chest in a swift motion. The movement caused her to vomit up blood and for blood to pour out of her chest too, but after a few moments she stopped bleeding out. Only for the wound to start regenerating and heal. Within a moment's notice, the wound was gone. The only evidence of the wound through her chest was her, bloodied uniform, the bloodied Claymore she was holding, and the man who inflicted the wound.

"As incompetent of a Fatui agent you are, you are one of my many perfect test subjects. This is the only reason that I'm allowing you the chance to reason with me, the reason why you are still alive and not a corpse like the rest of your team. This is the most valuable thing about you. Which goes a long way seeing as you disrespected and blatantly ignored the orders of the brilliant man that gave you such wonderful abilities."

"Yes, and I am forever grateful and indebted to you, Lord Dottore. My sincerest apologies. Permission to begin my reasoning?" The Fatui Captain asked with a bow.

All Dottore did was nod and start the timer.

"Lord Dottore, deep in Sumeru, In the desert, there are ruins of a temple, and within the temple, there are ancient artifacts from another world! And- And a portal to it too! we've almost reopened it, but the last part of the message we haven't finished decoding yet, we do know after we reopen this temple someone will reward us for it on the other side. We believe it's some form of a priest or something! Lord Dottore I beg of you for another chance. I won't fail-"

The timer went off and the room quickly fell silent. The Fatui captain quickly began trembling, but she didn't dare to move or make a sound. If looks could kill it would, Dottore's burning gaze felt sharper than any two-edged sword would feel piercing her skin. The poor, poor Fauti captain was shaken to her core! She could feel her mouth dying up and her heart racing! Her ears were ringing as she could hear the clock on the wall ticking... It was madness! The Fatui captain felt weak in her knees and could feel herself pass out at any moment! But after what felt like an eternity of intense burning silence, Dottore finally cleared the silence for a moment as he cleared his throat, picked up the notes, and started to look through them.

"I'll allow it." Dottore said breaking the silence.

"In fact, I have grown interested in this project, I will be looking into this project. I will be assigning you a team that is far better suited for this project. Grab whatever supplies you require just make note that you have taken in. I'll request permission from the Tsaritsa and we shall leave for Sumeru immediately once my leave has been approved."

"Madame Tsaritsa, thank you so much for approving my leave. I didn't think you'd accept it immediately."

"Yes, I'm oddly interested in this new planet." The Tsaritsa paused to take a sip of her tea. "Could it be maybe this planet is where the traveler came from?"

"Indeed. My faithful previous test subject has even said that someone was waiting on the other side with a reward if we restore the other side of the portal."

"I see, then do not tally here any longer, Go to Sumeru quickly. I presume you'll need funds so I'll arrange it with Pantalone that Tartaglia will bring it to you."

"Hm, I do believe Pantalone has cut down the amount I'm allowed to spend after my previous trip to Sumeru, as he claims that I squandered the funds."

"I shall handle it Zandik, just make sure to arrive swiftly to Sumeru."

"Yes- but Madame Tsaritsa, in all due respect, you know how I feel about that name.."

"Ah, my sincerest apologies, Dottore."

"No, harm done Madame Tsaritsa, I shall be taking my leave now."

"Goodbye, Dottore, I wish you safe travels and fruitful work."

"Thank you, Madame Tsaritsa.." Dottore said before standing up and taking his leave.

"What this is magnificent..."

【︎ᴜᴘ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ...】︎

プリースト❃

║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █

[colleisnumberonefan]

Random Fatui Headcannons

Note that obviously the ones we have not seen in game, as of the 23rd of September, 2024 (and Capitano), may not end up being accurate to their characters, I am not a psychic.

Also these are very unserious lol.

Capitano - I am incapable of reading this man (a sneaking part of me does think I'm going to find him really annoying but everyone else will think I'm weird for that)

Dottore - Got bullied when he was a kid (as he should). Thinks he's better than Columbina in every aspect just because he's a spot above her.

Columbina - Doesn't buy Dottore's crap and rarely takes orders from anyone even if her entire job is based around taking orders from the Tsrista (based on arle's voiceline about I think she might have no motive, morals or maybe even sense of logic so it makes sense she'd contradict like that), I also like to believe that she may just be with the Tsrista because that means she can kill people without consequences. Modern!Columbina is definitely an avid watcher of the bachelor franchise, she watches every episode of every show as it's airing and goes online to talk about all the drama.

Arlechino - Genuinely does not care for the concept of gender. Lynette is her favourite child (this take is not at all biased) from a purley affection related position, however she views Lyney as the most useful and hence tends to favour him more (fear not Fremmie is not forgotten he is very close to the twins as always).

Pulcinella - I honestly believe this man is going to have a tragic backstory. Very touchy when people call him short (even though he undoubtedly is).

Sandrone (I believe the the robot is the real harbinger and also alain theory but since it isn't entirely confirmed I will just be using gender neutral pronouns, since this possibility means their gender is up in the air) - Doesn't just hate Childe's guts with no reason, one his habits ended up repeatedly ruining their research, Childe doesn't realise this and thinks it's reasonless.

Pantalone - Has a surprisingly high kill count. His glasses are fake. Modern!Pantalone is an Elon Musk simp, he has Twitter Blue and calls it "X" and is in his twitter replies hyping is failures up (I think Modern!Dottore would like agree with him but he wouldn't be a simp). He looks significantly older than he is (or I guess in a modern au cause he's probably immortal, I image Modern!Pantalone being in his early 30s but looking about 10 years older.)

Tartaglia/Childe - Modern!Childe watches Mr. Beast and thinks he's never done anything wrong.

And I gave up byeeeeeeee

[skaruresonic]

I would actually be pretty annoyed if the leaks "Gerald's diary talks of Angel Island and confirms Shadow is based on Super Sonic" is true. It both shrinks unique Echidna civilization identity and forces connections that are only meta at best, confusing for how Angel Island was left alone at worst

Now if it's simply Gerald noting that "survivors of the Chaos incident rose the surroubding landscape and hid themselves to ensure Chaos isn't discovered" and note he never found it I'd be delighted. Cuz that is the reason for the island's existence

But the fans BS theory is what concerns me

Side note, I need to finish that Echidna thing...

I would actually be pretty annoyed if the leaks "Gerald's diary talks of Angel Island and confirms Shadow is based on Super Sonic" is true. It both shrinks unique Echidna civilization identity and forces connections that are only meta at best, confusing for how Angel Island was left alone at worst

It's also hilarious because it would lowkey imply that Gerald threw shit at the wall to see what stuck.

"I must create immortal life in order to save my beloved granddaughter's life, yet my efforts meet abject failure time and again. What should I do?

"Ah yes, the mural! The mural I stumbled upon one day during my daily constitutional along Angel Island's most remote areas! The mural where one figure looks suspiciously like me, which usually isn't an omen not to mess with forces beyond your ken, and that glowing fellow, which I'm going to assume is not a harbinger of doom despite literally nothing telling me otherwise.

"By Jove, I've got it: I'll waste the government's time and money, which they are incredibly generous to shower upon us with no stipulations whatsoever, to create this immortal life based on an etching I saw! For the Symbolism(tm)!"

Like goddamn, at least Eggman gave Chaos the Emeralds first to see if the stone tablet's predictions held true xP

I also think it runs the risk of complicating the circumstances of Shadow's creation more than they already were. Black Doom being Shadow's genetic donor is something I accept, but just barely, because even that was majorly pushing it.

It's almost like, between the echidnas and Black Doom, there emerges an unfortunate implication that Gerald couldn't have created something original, let alone life.

[merakiui]

(for the GloMas confrontation)

I'm just dropping by to say this: SAME. I HAVE THE SAME THOUGHT AS WELL.

This is especially true when Malleus just goes "haha you thought I'll be scared of your flames?" when he's basically a dragon fae KEKW. I'm sorry Rollo but your confrontation with Malleus and using your power to kill him doesn't exactly work.

(Although I'm convinced he's Scara coded because his behavior during it is SO Scara 😔 what a girl failure, but he's trying his best. It's a shame he gets beat by a dragon fae)

AAAAA great minds thinking alike!!!! 🤝 it was the first thing that flashed into my mind and I couldn't stop giggling. It's too funny to imagine, especially when Malleus is just so unaffected by the attempt. And Idia and Azul are just like, "That's the prince of Briar Valley for you!" LOL Rollo's fire is probably nothing compared to the blazes Malleus can conjure; it's merely a drop in the pond. Rollo, I love you, but you're not winning this one. >_<

(omg Rollo being Scara-coded.......... :o I need the two of them to meet and discuss their grievances with the world to one another. I need them to switch places, actually. Rollo Flamme: Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers. Scaramouche: Student Council President of Noble Bell College. When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object... >:) aaaaaa but I love my girlfailure Rollo. <3 he is indeed trying his best.)

[edgeray]

Hi there!

I just finish to read the rules for Arlecchino request, and I saw no specific illness/disease, so I will try to make my situation for everyone:

I have horrible knee pain to the point I'm close to faint because of it sometimes.

But to put it more accessible to everyone what about that:

Reader hurt themself during a mission but it was an intern injury, they hide it but Arlecchino noticed how they start walking weird and many other sign.. until Reader faint from the pain? How will Arlecchino react and what would she do?

Sorry if it disobey the rules and for any grammar mistake since English is not my first language ^^ (and I'm writing this while it's 12 am where I'm from ;/ )

Thank you if you are making this request, if not I still thank you for reading it until the end :)

I Am Fine in Your Arms

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi, there anon! If you choose to request anon again, give yourself a name/emoji 🫶! I really appreciate you pertaining to my rules; not only do I want to make my x Reader's accessible to as many people, but I also don't want to misrepresent anyone or their experiences with that illness/condition especially since I myself most likely won't have them, so thanks for the consideration. I'm assuming by ‘intern injury’ you mean ‘internal injury,’ so that's what I'm writing based off. You're not breaking any of my rules but your concern is appreciated! Don't worry about it though. Your English is good, especially since it's not your first language :). Little bit rushed because I am tired and ti's 12AM. Thank you for your request! Content warnings / info - reader goes by ‘mother’ but gn! reader, semi-graphic details about injury, this weirdly had actual plot for some reason, 1.5k words

Although the vast majority of your duties was primarily serving the House of the Hearth and the Fourth Harbinger, as a member of the Fatui, it was mandatory for the Fatui to ensure you still held loyalties to the Tsaritsa. Typically, proof of your fidelity was through completing the occasional reconnaissance mission assigned to you every couple of months though this time you were given a different type of operation: direct action, specifically, assassination. 

Assassination wasn't necessarily your forte, but it was doable. In a few weeks, you'd stop scrubbing your hands incessantly in hopes of washing away the stained blood, and you would stop receiving dreams painted in red. At least, with reconnaissance, blood and violence could be avoided. Why you were assigned this particular assassination mission when there were much more suitable candidates, you could only assume. You had an inkling it had to do with some of the other Harbingers’ grudges and suspicions of your husband, and perhaps the chink in the Knave's impenetrable armor  would be you. Failure in this mission could quickly spiral into considerable consequences for you and Arlecchino, regardless if the designation was influenced by more untrustworthy Harbingers, so you couldn't afford to fail this anyways–not with how high profile this target was. 

You return to the House of the Hearth, splatters of blood still visible on your appearance despite your best attempts of cleaning up. At your arrival, some of the children rush to greet you, only to pause as they take in your exhausated form. You give them a weak smile, bending down and extending your arms to accept their eager embraces.

“M-mother!” the children exclaim as they swarm around you, their curious and anxious minds surely brimming with many questions. You hadn't told any of the children where you've gone to for the past few days, believing that there was no need to stir up such worries when the mission was going expectedly. You were wrong, however; no mission like the one they had given you should have been done alone, and yet the only one you could depend on was yourself and your vision. It was undeniably a test for you, and you had only scraped by with your life and the mission's success. Now, all you wanted to do was collapse in bed and hibernate for several weeks, your head filled with a dense fog and senses dulling.  

“Mother, there's blood on–” Barely able to hear the statement, you shake your head, dismissing the little girl's distress. “Don't worry, dear… it's not mine.”

With some effort, you pull away from the children and you hobble your way towards the living commons, your bruised ribs impelling pained grunts from you. 

“Someone…” you pant, placing your hand over your forehead. Leaning against the nearest wall, you shut your eyes, breathing in deeply as an attempt to relieve the ache. “Someone go get your Father.” 

Multiple feet scurry away after your command, but the remaining children around you overwhelm you with their burning questions of what they can do to help, what did you need, whether or not you needed medicine, and much more that you couldn't bother processing.  Gently, you push past them, making your way to you and Arlecchino's shared bedroom. 

“I'm sorry, children, I just need to lay down in private for a little bit, okay? Then I promise that I will be up soon, and we can make cookies. How does that sound?” You say to them in an effort to quell their anxiety and it works for the younger children. The older ones, however, you can tell they still carry some distress but they nod along for your sake.

Such good children. 

You enter your bedroom and shut the door, immediately peeling away your clothes caked in blood, not even bothering to go into your adjacent bathroom. After chucking the articles in the direction of the laundry basket, you dig through the wardrobe for your much more prefered uniform, the one you wore as ‘Mother.’ By that time, the door clicks, and your husband enters.

Arlecchino wastes no time in appearing by your side, her blackened hands wrapped around your hips, and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. You hoped that you were able to hide your wince in time when she touched you. You know your husband far too well to know that, despite her stoic expression, she is just as worried for you, if not more, than your children. There's that small knit in her brows, and her lips are curled the slightest bit more. She had always been fiercely protective of you. 

“My love, there's blood–” she starts, but you cut her off with a chuckle. “I know, one of the children already pointed it out.”

Then, your tone hardens. There's no need to wait to let her know. “I need to tell you something.”

“You should rest.”

You shake your head. “This comes first, Arlecchino.” 

“You just came back.” 

“Peruere,” you enunciate, quickly silencing the Knave. “I am fine,” you assure her with a stern tone but fond eyes. You let out a defeated huff, resorting to wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against her shoulder to ease her and to conceal your pained expression as your body protested the movement. 

Remaining in that position, you brief her on your mission and every single detail to it. From the process of researching and finding the opportune time to, to the actual execution of the assassinatin, which proved to be much more complicated and difficult than you were able to account for. This was due to the lack of information given to you once you were assigned. With the absence of partners and the omittance of crucial details, it is, undoubtedly, an attempt to sabotage you and cause you to fail. The two of you discussed what to do, going forward in cases like this, as well as potential suspects, their motives, and wouldbe gains. With each growing minute, Arlecchino held you tighter and you leaned in closer. 

After the conversation finished, your husband quietly held you, without uttering another sound, for around half-an-hour, the two of you indulging in one another's company. You pull away with a kiss to her forehead.

“I promised the kids I would make cookies with them. Would you like some?” 

Arlecchino knows better than to say no. She gives you a curt nod. You hum with acknowledgement to her answer, standing up from sitting on the bed. Almost instantaneously, the moment you stabilize yourself on your feet, your vision grows black and an abrupt throbbing comes to your head. You stumble forward, but catch yourself. 

“Love–”

“I'm fine. Just stood up too fast,” you gruff, staggering your way towards the door but the limp is far too obvious. You only make it a few steps before you stumble over again, nearly hitting the floor if it weren't for Arlecchino’s quick reflexes. Stabbing pain surrounds you, and paired with your fatigued state, you no longer have the energy to ignore the agony. She cradles you in her arms and you glance up at her. Your sight swims, and her appearance keeps distorting before you. Clinging onto consciousness seems to be a losing battle. 

“The cookies…”

“Forget about the cookies. You said you were fine,” Arlecchino scolded through gritted teeth, with some frustration and anger in her voice. Placing her arm underneath your back and underneath your legs, she carries you bridal-style, already rushing towards the medical bay. 

“Stay awake for me. Stay awake,” it is a harsh demand, but you know it is nothing more than a desperate plea. Your eyelids droop and you close your eyes.

Arlecchino lets out an expletive under her breath, quickening her pace as she barges into the room. The specialized doctor for the House of the Hearth is startled, but the Harbinger's intense glower tells the doctor all she needs to know. 

“Find out what is wrong with her, and fix it. Now,” the Harbinger orders, and the doctor goes into work immediately once your body is placed on the bed. 

The Knave soundlessly watches the doctor's each and every action, refusing to budge by your side. Although she knows that medical treatment is not her expertise, Arlecchino cannot help but critique her doctor in her thoughts. Not fast enough, not effective enough, not enough for her darling who could be experiencing unbearable pain now.

The doctor works until she assures the Harbinger that everything that could be done is, and that you will wake in the following morning. Arlecchino wordlessly thanks the doctor but her hand that clasps yours doesn't move for even one movement. Eventually, night falls. Climbing into the small bed, she tenderly wraps her arms around you, unable to be pulled apart from you until she knows your safety is guaranteed. Underneath her skin, seething rage boils for the coworkers who try to deprive her of her authority and power, but most of all, for causing you in this state.

The next morning, Arlecchino's eyes flutter open when she feels the warm body next to her stir. She awakens to your soft smile.

“I said I was fine, didn't I?” You greet her with a twinkle in your eyes. 

Arlecchino's heart swells.

[billycorn]

Hello There

The name's Billy. I write PMD fics and draw, I think. Currently working on a PMD Fic called From The Stars (more below the cut). If you have any questions, fire away. Otherwise, enjoy!

From the Stars Blurb: Humans, harbingers of calamity, when one appears disaster follows close behind. So, with the arrival of Atlas and Maple, the clock begins to tick down, and the guild prepares for chaos. Can this pair save the world and get home when the stars have foretold failure?

If the stars decree it, so it will be. Yet, how far would you go to defy them? If it meant keeping someone by your side just a little longer. If it meant you didn't have to be alone. If it meant holding on to everything you love.

They say things were always going to end this way, but isn't that an excuse? A sentiment to ease the pain? Why would you believe it? Just because the Fates decreed it? No. Things were always going to happen this way, but it doesn't end here. Until the sun burns out, there's still time. So, rise. Get up. They need you.

From the stars you came, and to them you will return, but until that time comes, I beg you, live.

Main Cast: Atlas (Golett) - A human boy turned Golett, he'll give anything to have his memories back, at least, that's what he thinks. When faced with the reality of returning home, will our hero take that chance? Or will he stay, and fight?

Maple (Vulpix) - This world is strange, and scary, but the Golett beside her is awful familiar, and she'll give anything to keep him safe. No matter the cost, she will get him home.

Hermit (Alolan Sandshrew) - The littlest guy you ever done did see. He's gonna be a great Ranger! Please take him seriously, I'm not sure how much more he can take. He is in dire need of some positive reinforcement, and maybe a hug.

Celeste (Gothitelle) - She just wants to be left alone. No, she will not be adopting any children today, no, thank you ... Okay, she'll take those two because they look very polite. The third is on his own.

[astarab1aze]

✘✘✘ ⸻ ❝ Starlight, star bright, get fucked and die right. ❞

independent fandomless original multimuse blog. selective & mutuals only. multiship & multiverse. 18+, as blog can and will contain triggering & explicit material. please read rules & about before interacting ✦ est. 2023. burned by taro ⸻⸻⸻⸻ CARRD ✦ aesthetics ✦ aesthetics ii ✦ lore ✦ memes ✦ music ✦ opens for all muses & information, character-specific headcanons, and other things, please click here ; lore: main verse // fantasy verse ⸻⸻⸻⸻ homies & good blogs ♥ @maljefe / @elysiumtouched / @gloryundimmed / @gyofukuki / @origami-assassin / @melancholymirth / @ofoccultism / @divinezenin / @stanislawkowalski / @elysian-noctuary / @lured-into-wonderland / @mamoritxi / @nvrcmplt / @malafxde ( rules under the cut for easy access. )

✾ Mun

hello.!! call me taro. my pronouns are they/them, and i am 25+. i’ve been roleplaying off and on for about 18 years. my waking life is busy, so i won’t always be here. i have 5 pets and a big family (i'm married + have children). i prefer writing original characters to canon characters. i live in the midwest usa. there are two things in this world i can’t live without: green tea, hot cheetos, and emotionally wrecked men. oh, and i’m nerdy as hell. if you have any questions or just wanna chat/plot, i’m always open, if a little awkward and slow at times.!!

✾ Blog

 ⸻Disclaimer.

mun =/= muse. writing about something =/= condoning it. i am mixed-race and lgBT, if that matters to you. otherwise - all of my muses here, especially loux and sortia, are horrible people and absolutely not for the faint of heart. loux and sortia are highly dangerous criminals despite outward appearances, and will likely not care about your muse(s) so as to further their own ends. loux is a bit more flexible, capable of kindness and attachment, but sortia is absolutely not - and both are unafraid of the consequences of their actions. vayn, on the other hand, is a sweetheart, but he's highly inappropriate, meaning he will probably try to come onto your muse(s). he's very flirtatious and a bit handsy. furie is a religious oracle, but he doesn't talk much - still willing to commit murder and blasphemy. hydre is a wild card, unpredictable, and is inherently cannibalistic as well as the harbinger of the wizard apocalypse. asuka is highly inappropriate, wild, and strangely pure, and will probably put up with anything your muse does to them except breaking their heart (because that will kill them, literally). kaede is a self-harmer and sometimes very difficult to handle, both emotionally and physically, and will often throw himself into danger. crovita is a government agent specialized in a wide range of things, and is probably the most normal of them all despite all the line-crossing she's done in her work. viresca, though helpful and generally good, is on a bit of a warpath herself and doesn't mind getting her hands dirty in process. interactions with them could probably go off the rails.  

important addition: as an aside, pop culture has a noticeable influence on my lore (ex. dumpster fairies from wwdits, beholders from d&d, botchlings & drowners from the witcher, arthurian legend, various mythos, the list goes on). i am not shy about this. while i do borrow, i try to put a little bit of my own spin on things, but there isn't much revolutionizing going on here. maybe subversion, maybe flagrant cliches, but everything on this blog is meant to have a sort of 'melting pot' vibe with both original and existing-in-media ideas all mixed together. the world itself is like... baldur's gate, the witcher, true blood, and hp had a weird baby together, best way i can put it.

 ⸻Content.

i don’t shy away from disturbing/gory/traumatic topics. i don’t see it as a moral failure to write it. fiction is the safest possible way to explore our fears, interests, catharses, and concerns regardless of whether it's done properly or not. that being said, there are some things i won’t write: minor/adult, graphic noncon, and incest outside of backstories and such. otherwise, i’m very flexible and find darker or taboo subjects worth exploring creatively - zero judgments here. all triggering content will be tagged as ’____ /’, and erotic content will be tagged as ‘nsft /’. needless to say, this is a 18+ only blog. i will not interact with anyone under the age of 18, 21+ is my preference. as an aside, a lot of my writing will focus on themes of immorality / amorality, drug use / trafficking, poaching, enslavement and imprisonment, murder, extreme ambition, tunnel vision, sex, gore, allusions to sexual assault (backgrounds), manipulation, general criminal activity, necromancy, blood magic, experimentation, cannibalism, human sacrifice, occasional body horror, negative & positive character development, toxic relationships, obsession, family trauma - things like that. but i’m more than happy to write silly and lighthearted things as well. i do love some sweet fluffy goodness! 

 ⸻Posting.

all interactions are mutuals only. i’m not the fastest writer, don't always have muse, and will take my time for serious threads. it may take me a few weeks to over a month, sometimes a fair bit longer, from time to time to reply to a thread or answer an ask. on occasion, i may go haywire on the dash and disappear into the night, but i will always be using my queue. i tend towards multi-para, but will do one-liners or simpler, shorter-lengthed threads. pretty sure i’m using the beta editor as well. oh! i regularly delete my OOC posts, so you won’t have to worry too much about dash clutter in that respect. i tend toward inbox memes, so you may see more of those than other things.

 ⸻Communication.

i’m just a little bit on the awkward & shy side and may have a hard time reaching out for plotting at first. what i do to mitigate this is generally interact with posts and send in icebreaker asks. i’ll also reblog plenty of memes and my interest check so that there’re always opportunities to get things going. that being said, much as i love, love to gush and plot and just overall have a good time chatting about our muses, it’s sometimes hard for me to maintain conversations or even start them, even if we've been writing together for a while or were just in the middle of a discussion as i get overwhelmed from time to time and need to take breaks; it is not intentional to leave anyone hanging. which i try to compensate for with other interactions (asks, comments, etc.) until i have the brain power. all i ask is that you be patient with me, because i certainly do not mean to leave you hanging or feeling like i'm not interested! you're free to poke me any time!

 ⸻Shipping. 

big fan, big time. you will see a lot of this on this blog and i make no apologies for it. i think it's weird that people hate shipping on the shipping website. i love complicated romances, desperate reunions, all things smutty, toxic relationships, platonic relationships, found family, mentor/student (platonic), plain old friendships - very open to the topic. communication but mostly chemistry are needed for romantic shipping, as i want my partners to be just as enthused as i am and for the muses to be on the same page. i’ll ship with anyone if the vibe’s right. if you want to ship, just let me know! i'm sure we can figure something out.

smol quick guide:

asuka: thoughtlessly dives into all relationships

crovita: one-night stands, slow-burns, high stakes

faith: all arounder, great for ONS, FWB, slow-burn, hurt/comfort, trauma bonds

furie: great for slow-burns and enemies/rivals to lovers

hydre: speedrun having your heart broken & eaten on nightmare mode (not impossible, but about as difficult as sorti)

kaede: great for slow-burns, one-night stands, really all relationships

keres: gentlemanly, hardwired for slow-burns & generally intense relationships

loux: great for one-night stands & casual relationships, though there is potential for something deeper

mharra: if you're into the mostly strong & silent types with attitudes, he's the guy for you; best for slow-burns

nishka: sort of a normie, just needs time and patience

rivyn: best for slow burns, enemies/rivals to lovers, high stakes

satra: lines between friend & lover are blurred; great for slow-burns, one-night stands, idiots to lovers, etc

sortia: extremely difficult to even get her to give the time of day; very picky

vayn: the sweetest of peas and will dote on your muse eternally from the word go

viresca: awkward and detached, but can be easily wooed; great for slow burns

⸻Verses. 

this blog is multiverse, though my original verses will be the primary so this blog will be mostly crossover. i like to try new things and plug my ocs into all sorts of universes - it broadens the understanding and depth of a character. i’m happily oc, crossover, au, and canon friendly, so if you want to do things in a different verse, i’ll make one if i don’t have one already! 

 ⸻Godmodding. 

so long as we talk about it before hand or it advances the thread, i don’t particularly care about godmodding or powerplaying. it just has to make sense for our plot. my muses are strong, but there are others who are stronger - and crueler - and i won’t ignore that if the power scale is such. your muse can overpower mine? dope, they should, actually! but by this same token, do not underestimate my muses or go in assuming they're weak.

 ⸻Drama/News/Triggers.

i block tags/posts. if there’s something i don’t want to see, i will simply not see it, no matter what it is, be it the news, internet beef, or things that make me feel like ass for one reason or another. i don’t engage with any of that stuff; i have a personal blog for that sorta thing. also, i do not have any written or visual triggers - except for maggots.

important addendum: do not approach me with anon hate, which i suppose is a moot point to make since people who send it in won't have looked at my rules anyway, but even so - do not approach me with such negativity. i will assume the worst of you and any point you're trying to make, however right or wrong you are, will be entirely discarded as nonsense. i do not care what your problem is; it's none of my business and i have bigger and more important things to worry about. speak to me like an adult or don't speak to me at all.