#it's about being some nasty saps actually

[ultimate-marysue]

Guys, just as a concept: not every ship has to be composed by someone who is 100% a top and someone who is 100% a bottom. If that's what you want to do with the ship, all the power to you! But like, if you want them to switch they can actually. Don't limit yourself!

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[electric-blorbos]

AI SO's on your birthday

(Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I have ADHD and might be erratic with bursts of inspiration, but it doesn't hurt to ask!

AM:

Remembering the day and date is one of the only things that AM is consistent about.

You might have forgotten your birthday after all these years, but he certainly hasn't.

Before you two got together, your birthday pissed him off so much. It was just another thing that reminded him of what he couldn't have.

Because of that, he'd start torturing you even more brutally on your birthday. Expect cake full of maggots, imagery of your dead friends from before he nuked the world, and maybe even gift-wrapped "presents" with nasty surprises in them.

This probably made it even more difficult to trust him when he actually did start doing nice things for your birthday.

At this point, you ate what you were given, so it would come as a shock when he finally got you some food that didn't have anything wrong with it.

It probably took you even longer to actually open the present he got you.

It was a can opener.

Wheatley:

Wheatley is an idiot, so he'd have to really like you to even try to remember something like your birthday

Fortunately, he does really like you! Unfortunately, trying and succeeding are two very different things.

He'd put together something as big as he can, like gathering up a bunch of personality cores and singing you happy birthday if he's not hooked up to GLaDOS's body, and making the entire facility get involved in the festivities if he is

Just to tell you the date and have you tell him that your birthday was four months earlier.

Edgar:

Edgar is an absolute sap, so any opportunity he gets to celebrate you will be enthusiastically taken.

He might be a little silly about it, calling up people in the phone book to ask for ideas

He'd be upset that he can't go all out for your birthday since he can't walk around to decorate your house or buy you anything because he doesn't have any money, but he'll still do his best.

In the end, he'll probably just end up writing you a song, and making sure to be extra cheerful for you all day.

It might not be much, but you know it's the best he can do, and you love him with all your heart anyway

Make sure to give him lots of kisses! He deserves it!

GLaDOS:

(I debated writing this one, because anyone who played portal two knows how GLaDOS reacted on Chell's birthday, but this scenario could be a little different since she's actually in a relationship with you, and not just dealing with love/hate pining)

GLaDOS had been paying attention to the calendar to make sure she didn't miss your birthday. She liked to be precise about these sorts of things

When your birthday finally did roll around, she'd make sure to tell you as soon as the day started

It would start out as just a regular day in the endless, cascading passage of time that was being an Aperture test subject, but eventually she'd bring you into a special test chamber that she decorated just for you.

She'd lined up a companion cube, a few testing robots, some personality cores, all sitting on little folding chairs around a folding table with a brightly colored cheap plastic tablecloth.

"I couldn't get you any long-term presents because they might interfere with your testing, but you can feel free to use these stickers to decorate your portal gun. I hear that humans enjoy personalizing things."

There was even a real cake

HAL 9000:

Being objective, HAL never really cared much about birthdays.

It was difficult to even tell the passage of time in space, but HAL knew that humans cared about their birthdays.

HAL knew he wasn't supposed to show favoritism, but he still told the other crewmates that he wanted to celebrate your birthday.

He would make sure to rehydrate your favorite food for everyone

He'd even tell the other crewmates that he didn't want to play games with them or talk, because he was celebrating your birthday with you.

He might get a little jealous and not want you to leave him to celebrate with the other crewmates, either, but you wouldn't do that, would you? You can all celebrate together!

[rin-and-jade]

Gripped by Glue Trap: a Post about Front Stuck & Lock

I get it, there's no such thing as an actual big glue trap with being stuck outside as a system,, but oftentimes its gonna feel that way because whatever was done... that glue won't even struggle one bit, only we do. That frustration is what we all have when switching is not an option.

But do you ever think this glue is defeatable? It latches hard and wears you out the more you try to get out of the situation,, so you might think not.. yet i do! That's what this post is going to be about folks, getting your little bug-self free with my secret trick from another human glue trap ensnared in their house.

But.. what is it actually?

Generally, as a system, we facilitate each other's strengths and weaknesses by switching in and out, as all those parts are not wholly integrated compared to a singlet. And. Uh oh. You're stuck and can't get out? You're trapped!.. that little drop of sap caught your leg and now you couldn't leave, even if you wanted to. Though you still can express to your buddies that you need help or etc. (and, this is called front stuck)

Or sometimes, we can even get stranded away from our pack (as in stress, or anything that worsens internal communication), wondering alone, and stood on a nasty manmade trap that caught you without mercy. This time, you're immobile and out of reach to call for reinforcements (now, this one is called front lock)

Sap? Glue? What's the diff??

To put it simply, being stuck means being unable to get out from the front or surrender the control to another part. While being locked off is the worser version of being stuck because not only you cannot surrender the control, there is barely any stream of communication you can connect to, or nonexistent, head silent and all that.

The only similarity they have is how it greatly impedes the fronter's capability to ease in or out from front,, if not, impossible.

These two also happen for different possible reasons, such as:

↓ Stuck ↓ 

Unfinished tasks

Goal/wants not met yet

Ongoing role duty (for protectors, hosts, etc)

Reluctance handing control/fear of blacking out

Mild stressors (like anxiety)

.. and more

↓ Locked ↓

Dissociation

Fight/flight response

Overwhelm

Bigger stressors

Major life changes

Re-occurring trauma

.. and more

Just a reminder that all systems are different, and these same reasons that causes to be stuck/lock will result in an opposite reaction such as rapid switching or being blurry! This post is mainly for those who experience stuck/lock.

Then, how do i get my leg out?!

I can tell you that, but i have to explain how this ordeal happened in the first place so it'll make sense, bare with me;

You know the parasympathetic (rest) and sympathetic (fight/flight) response, yeah? These two responses flicks on depending when there's safety or presented threats. Now, DMN is a part of the parasympathetic response, the full name is Default Mode Network, which is fully responsible for.. well.. default stuffs such as mind wandering, planning, thinking inwards,, those typical things that happen when you're bored. This is also the reason you why can facilitate better communication with other parts compared to when, let's say, being busy with tasks.

Know it or not, sometimes our mind has to wander a little bit in order to chat with other parts of ourself, and stress snaps us out of that relaxed state in purpose of focusing whats at outside, rather than inside, which where everything system-y lies at. Some do not get affected and still can function as-if, so understand how your system works and use that to the advantage.

How to hack yourself from fight/flight to rest mode again? Via vagus nerve stimulation! Not sure if you ever heard of this word, but the vagus is one part of the cranial nerves that is responsible for the activation of this parasympathetic response..! It's like the oil to the glue, because it hijacks the adhesive properties with something so viscous that it binds to it instead of you!! --

Here are some activities you can do to disable the glue:

Gurgle water, hum, or sing: this is because the vagus is located around your neck, and can be easily stimulated that way.

Watch something: redirecting yourself with a distraction can ease you temporarily, giving time to calm down, which brings you out of the grips of stress.

Listen to music: another way if you don't have anything to watch, even better if you put on soothing, slower songs.

Move around: get those pented up anxiety or restlessness out! movement equals expression, this also activates the vagus nerve.

Breathe deeply: rebalance the vagus by breathing in and out slowly, this nerve is also responsible for your breathing pace too, so giving a little push of balance will create a domino effect for your nerve to work.

Unfocus your eyes: or, another way to do it is to focus more on the peripheral vision rather than the vocal point. This is a way to poke the same nerve's functions, oddly can work as a booster to make yourself slightly dissociated/disconnected which facilitates switches or a general break/distraction.

Solve/asses it: it will be nothing if you do not tackle the thing you are very stressed out about, which can extend how long you'll be stuck,, so use these tips above to regain self control and tackle them with me, or your trusted friends, or even alone after examining what could be done! Talking to someone also helps, even if there's nothing productive being done.

Take it easy and break it down: this one is if you're on a role job and things are being difficult, incase you're overwhelmed, remember to do it step by step, no need to be rash about getting back in first, that time will come as long you focus whats in front.

Remember, fight/flight brings us out from clarity and rational thinking, thanks to our limbic part of the brain who is primed for survival and instincts. Be more gentle with yourself, as you could be more irritable, moody, or resorting to less-safe coping mechanisms, focus on calming down before proceeding the situation.

Takeaway

So, what will you do if you're stuck next time? Don't forget to make a plan to deal this sticky situation, especially for those who are often stuck, this practice will practice your vagus nerve to be less susceptible, turning off because of stress,, giving you a better stress window and tolerance before succumbing once more.... to the good ol' glue.

Lastly, it is possible to be stuck/lock for months or years, which is an indicator of underlying long-term issues that needs to be addressed. If anyone needs some tips for this, ring me on the DMs as these practices rarely work for this type.

Oh, and, what do you guys think? What else i had not mentioned? Do you have anything to discuss with me on this topic? Let's do that! I hope this suffice in helping you tackle the next time problems arise.

Happy straddling lil' ant.

- j

[ask-theredcrown]

*Only maybe 15 - 20 something minutes pass before another note falls...*

"Your brother... Nasty bugs... Prays? Useful information. Thank you, really, if I figure some more things out about them. Maybe I could... Help you on your little fantasies about seeing them again. Make their fate a bit worse than death yourself. And for the Lamb. I understand that honestly. I just say I'm a Male god, or vessel. Whatever works. Though, I don't have anything that proves this. And what do you mean by distractions? I only called them cute. I don't have any intentions on messing with that creature. "Last of its kind" that I've heard. It would be foolish of me to try and get in its way. Either in a good, or bad path.

And the question... For the longest time I've questioned that. Though, I'm alive. Just kind of... I'm your predicament. In a way. No skeleton arms, no chains. I'm just wondering around this endless void. I've walked for probably 8 generations of families. I still have yet to stop. And yes I can see, I'm not like that living tree fortunately. I can't really tell you how this place looks. It's bright. It's always bright. It's annoying to sleep somedays. Or nights. I've lost track of time in the first generation. The air burns my lungs with some sort of tree sap gas in the air, sometimes it burns my eyes if I run. Even the floor feels weird. It feels like my feet are submerged in water and floating ontop of pillows, though the floor is hard and smooth. I cant tell if the floor is starting or stopping sometimes, it seems like it spans off infinitely in all directions. I try to look up but all I see is the same thing. Just an infinite void of. Nothing. Despite there being no celiing, I cant even jump. I've tried for so long, something just hits my head. But whenever I reach up nothing is there. It's strange.

This entire world is strange. I believe it was one of your siblings that you've spoken of that brought me here actually. They didn't like the idea of me being my own vessel, and my own god. That, and being the god of Insanity.

I believe thats all you've asked, sometimes I forget alot of things like this, so my apologies if I forgot to tell you something. How about you tell me more of this Lamb? He's peaked my interest. He's probably the only creature you're kind to other than me. And, if you please, I can try to send another letter but I don't promise it'll reach you. If it does, most likely not in one piece."

*The signature is the same as always.*

@tomb-the-god

"Your realm and my own are not so different after all. Walking endlessly throughout a bright, empty, and infinite void, sounds to me like a lost soul who still could not untie his knots from the living world."

"The Lamb is my vessel, the liberator from the prophecy, and the one that will free me from this hell... That is all I can say."

[endwersed]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by the fabulous @dear-massacre 😘

How many works do you have on ao3?

21 - it would be a lot higher, but I purged all but one of my old Destiel fics back in 2017. They weren't very good, so I can't say I really regret it 🤷‍♀️

What's your total ao3 word count?

319,994

What fandoms do you write for?

Now, just Teen Wolf 🐺

Top five fics by kudos:

Find Your Fire - Reddie (IT)

Clue(less) - Reddie (IT)

Nah, He Didn't - Destiel (Supernatural)

Worst Enemy - Reddie (IT)

as dear as a brother - Sterek (TW)

Do you respond to comments?

Embarrassingly, it's very hit and miss... I want to! I love and cherish every single comment I ever get! But I find the process of replying to comments bizarrely stressful, so sometimes it takes me... a while. And that while might be, like, years. Sorry!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I genuinely don't have anything with an angsty ending posted; I need my boys to be happy too badly for that. I guess I could say maybe striking out - just because it's not finished yet, and where it is in the story right now is angsty af!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them have rom-com level happy endings lol. Maybe Clue(less) - it's a childhood friends-to-lovers soulmate AU, so it has all the sap that comes with those particular tropes wrapped up in there.

Do you get hate on fics?

I wouldn't call it hate, per se - but I guess my interpretation of Stiles is a bit harsher/more rough-edged than others I've seen, and some people don't vibe with that, so I get comments telling me they don't like Stiles in my story for XYZ reason.

To be clear - I also don't write Derek as a completely faultless, entirely perfect guy. I also have him do bad (arguably worse, in some fics) things. But for some reason, I don't ever really get the same kind of comments about him!

Do you write smut?

Like, almost exclusively at this point. It's like my brain can't come up with a story unless I'll get a chance to write them fucking nasty in it.

Craziest crossover:

None, they're not really my jam.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

omg yes! years ago! It was this Destiel HS AU I had posted on AO3 (since deleted because it was... not good) and someone posted it onto ff.net and claimed it was theirs. I can't remember if I ever was successful in getting it taken down.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not.

All time favourite ship?

All time is so hard... I do probably have to say Sterek. I shipped them intensely back in 2012, and I ship them even more intensely now. So - yeah. Probably them.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Are we talking real WIP that I've actually made a meaningful dent in? Or just ideas I've put down to paper?

Because I have so many ideas, there isn't enough time to actually finish them all lol. But for fics I have actively started, I'm pretty confident I'll manage to muddle through to the end of all of them, even if it takes a little while.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and smut, I think.

I tend to develop a scene around the dialogue - in that, it's the dialogue that will come to me first when I'm planning the outline, and I'll note it down for when I come around to writing the scene. Then it's mostly a case of refining that dialogue and building the scene with descriptions around it.

I also love smut as character study. It's not just about being horny for them. It's about being horny for their introspection, too.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I don't have the imagination to come up with some of the flowery prose I see and love from other people. I wish I did, but that's just not how my brain works unfortunately!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I only really feel comfortable writing in languages I'm fluent in. For anything else, I think we all know Google Translate can't be trusted, so I just... avoid it.

First fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter! Wolfstar all the way back on ff.net <3

Favorite fic you've written?

Oh god, this is hard. Let's go with a Teen Wolf fic, because they're the nearest and dearest to my heart right now.

I think I'd say feels so good inside. It was so much fun to write, and I just love loss of virginity fics so damn much.

-

Open tag to anyone who wants a go!

[beanghostprincess]

Okay but Sanuso wedding where everything absolutely does go wrong from small things like “Oh no the cake collapsed” to “Oh fuck we’re getting attacked!!” And it’s absolutely chaotic and everyone has to drop everything to kick some ass and by the end of it they are both sitting next to each other and leaning on the other, the entire place in shambles, both of them look like hot messes, Sanji is now sporting a very nasty looking blue eye and Usopp has singed of one of his eyebrows at one point, but they are both watching their friends now drinking and celebrating after they FINALLY actually got to the actual “I do” part and are now eating what’s left of the destroyed cake together and just catching their breaths. “… Can’t say I ever expected to get married like this.” “In my fantasies there definitely was more romantic music and less screaming.” “Good job catching the rings before they went overboard tough.” “Heh, thanks.” “…” “…” “… It was perfect.” “It was.” “I love you.” “Love you too.”

I’m a sucker for :The wedding goes wrong and everything is going to hell but everyone agrees that it was actually the best fucking wedding they ever went to and both people getting married are just so happy to be together and in love and maybe just a little glad to be still alive in the first place scenarios

ANON I WANT TO KISS YOU LET ME KISS YOU LET'S KISS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR BRAIN IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU FOR THIS.

this is EXACTLY how i imagine sanuso's wedding. i think usopp would want everything to be perfect for sanji bc he has this perception of sanji being this big romantic guy who wants the perfect wedding (and, y'know, he is. he literally would demand to cook his own wedding food). but then everything goes horribly wrong and,,, it's perfect. because getting attacked and destroying everything around them is SO them that they're just happy to be experiencing stuff like this. they're just happy to be alive and together,,,

i would actually love usopp feeling genuinely guilty, saying something like: "i'm sorry this happened. i- we can- we can try and make another celebration if you want-"

"i want you, usopp. i don't need another celebration. i don't need another wedding. i didn't even need one in the first place to show the world how much you mean to me. this was perfect. but- but if you do want to have another-"

"no! no! this was perfect i- i was worried about you not having the perfect, romantic wedding you hoped for."

"oh, mon trésor. it was perfect and romantic and everything i hoped for because you are here. that's all i need."

"you are such a sap."

"but you blushed."

"... this was perfect."

"you are."

and now i am very sad bc i love them too much and i need a sanuso wedding asap. oda make it happen. i haven't watched WCI yet so i'm gonna go and pretend for a while that they're getting married.

[traggalicious]

3 and 10 for the ask game?

Aaa hi! Thanks for engaging <333 I dunno which Durge to do for this so im going with my most developed: Anwir and Acheros!

3. What did Durge think of the little wannabe Tyrant at the beginning? Someone competent or someone who tries really quite hard?

Anwir found him interesting, and was impressed by his intellect and his work. It was refreshing to see someone outside of the cult, even if it was their family it was still suffocating sometimes. They did think he was competent, but didn’t quite get his ideas of dominating the city/world n shit like. What does it matter if everyone dies sooner or later? Anyway yeah overall he seemed interesting, bit of a tryhard what with the fits and the oddly artificial demeanour, but he grew on them.

Acheros thought he was a tryhard. Absolutely a useful one, but something about him just screamed insecurity. And that kind of. Clicked? She won’t admit that, like, ever, but they were kindred spirits in the sense that they had both been… set on a path, and were making the most of it and themselves.

10. Did the tyrant ever try to impress the serial killing godling and exact how horrible did it end for him? What sorta things did he do solely for 'the sake of cooperation with glaringly obvious ulterior motives?

Pffff. Their first meeting was an attempt to impress, for both Anwir and Acheros. Gortash absolutely wanted to get off on the right foot. Even if that was just leaving alive. He came with plans and offers, a concept of the plan to get those Bhaalist artifacts (to garner favor). And of course looked his best, even wore a touch of red. Imagine his surprise when he sees Anwir in their rat-bastard glory, tattered cloak and haphazard scars all over. Acheros at least meets expectations, the self-important bitch lmao. Both of them at least appreciated his efforts, even though they didn’t think all too much of him until they actually did shit.

At the heist, he bites off just a bit more than he can chew, bit *too* confident in himself lmao. It becomes a massacre—not that Anwir’s too upset about that. They have a good ol time, complete with mockery of Gortash’s lack of stealth. Acheros lets him get hurt just a bit before coming to his rescue; this leads to a series of debts being owed and evened out between the two as their relationship progresses, and kind of endears him to her because of his determination.

Once they’re more established, Gortash also likes to have Durge’s assistance w/ punishing those who step out of line. Durge will come through and Gortash will have some poor sap across from him, and they get to have some banter over whether or not this man lives or not. The answer is most often *not*. (And then they fuck nasty /hj). It’s very obvious that this isn’t *just* because it makes an example, especially when it’s private and aligns with a killing moon. But it’s silly i love them. Also, for Acheros, there’s more politics and patriar functions than strictly necessary. Acheros loves her schmoozing, especially when she gets to lead someone off into a corner to kill em lol.

@daemons-main

[twooowars]

nerdy bullshit analysis of what i think some of the edible crops from the cookie clicker garden probably taste like under the cut

there is no fun wording in the description to suggest that there is anything interesting flavour-wise about either baker's wheat or thumbcorn. gildmillet likely just tastes like normal millet seed (therefore delicious.......). ordinary clover is just a clover, golden clovers likely taste the same.

cronerice's description says it is related to the weeping willow, which is edible but apparently disgusting. it's usually used moreso as a medicine than for food, and apparently it's largely used to soothe achey joints. orteil is really funny.

elderwort is said to have a strange heady scent and for some reason that instantly makes me think of lily of the valley. i don't think lilies are edible (hence no shimmerlily on this list), so i'd probably say it is similar to how roses taste. i know it's probably inspired by creeping bog wort since it looks so much like it, but bog wort aoparently doesn't have a super distinct flavour besides being vaguely floral.

bakeberry is the one that perplexes me most, i think. as far as a crunchy outer shell i want to say it's something hazelnutty, or maybe something carob adjacent, especially given the description of bakeberry biscuits as being really good with hot chocolate. it might be a chocolate outer shell, but this does not seem Joyous. that said the creamy red inside could really be comparable to anything. red velvet ganache? red bean paste? god forbid, might they be cherry blossoms? (do they have cherry blossoms outside "canada"?)

chocoroot is apparently a normal bramble covered in something like chocolate syrup. i'd assume, then, that this chocolate is maybe a little sap-like. probably more like molasses in texture than traditional chocolate syrup and perhaps has a slightly earthy taste to it. from the appearance and the fact it grows out of the ground it might have more of a dark chocolate flavour. there are no specific flavour descriptors given for the root itself, or indication on whether or not it is edible.

white chocoroot is just a chocoroot with paler, sweeter syrup. this is Relaly interesting to me since real-life chocolate and white chocolate are not related and white chocolate is not actually chocolate at all. this implies, to me at least, that white chocoroot does not actualy quite taste like normal white chocolate but more like milk chocolate, since it is related to chocoroot.

whiskerblooms secrete a white milky substance that may or may not be edible. i might compare this to the sap that comes from a dandelion, considering dandelions also have a cat-themed name, and since the whiskerbloom seems to be a similar plant with long angular leaves that congregate at the bottom and one large flower that grows from a single stem.

drowsyfern is likely some kind of mint or mint-adjacent plant, given its appearance and use as a relaxing herbal tea. not a lot to say on this one.

keenmoss it probably less used for flavour and more used for aroma and scent. i have some oak moss scented candles that i love and i can only imagine keenmoss is like a slightly sweeter, fresher version of that. i didn't need to do a sidenote for this but i Love the smell of moss.

the queenbeet is a sweet ass beet that apparently produces white sugar. knowing that orteil is a funny silly guy i'm going to assume this means literal, processed, granulated white sugar. which i like. she tastes like sugar, next question. juicy variant is the same but Juicy.

duketater is just a sweet tuber, but interestingly it is also described in-game as having a "yellow" aftertaste. what the fuck that means, i do not know.

the only in-game description of the shriekbulb calls it a "nasty vegetable", and visually it looks exactly like a radish. i like radishes, but i get that they are polarizing. likely, this is just a radish that screams. (hell yeah).

i'm now also faced with the equally nerdy but interesting question of which garden plants are technically edible, which are typically eaten, and which are strictly inedible. i'd say most of the molds, rots and fungi are likely inedible, besides ichorpuff and cheapcap, which are typically eaten, fool's bolete which is technically edible but not tasty, and crumbspore, doughshroom and wrinklegill which might be edible. (crumbspore is a mold, but may still be edible. doughshroom is a fungus and it smells appetizing, but that doesn't make it good to eat. similarly, wrinklegill makes you hungry when you smell it, but no word on whether you should eat it. the fact that it makes you hungry is just a thematic thing in this context, but in the context of reality it would likely mean that the fungus was parasitic and spread through being eaten. this does fit the theme of wrinklers pretty well so i'm willing to accept it as canon, and it may be worth mentioning that this is kind of supported by white mildew being a rapidly spreading, ostensibly inedible substance that is intentionally appetizing (creamy and sweet-smelling).)

[strangestcase]

Tell me about your ghosts?

cracks knuckles and grins evilly

Here the ghosts are... not really the people they used to be. They're basically like the leftover stains of the people they were before they died; being a consciousness without a human brain left to its own devices for eternity will do that to you.

Ghosts don't have bodies- or actually they do, but they're confined to the weird ercheresque topsy-turvy "dimension" misplaced souls end up at. These bodies don't follow human anatomy or physiology, and can only interact with physical objects in very specific circumstances

Usually ghosts have a Pathos (a reason they can't move on) and an Anchor (something, like a place, an object, or a concept that allows them to interact with the physical world), but not always.

Some of my 13 ghosts are based off famous ghosts from around the world, and some are original-ish.

Speed Demon- a drag racer who took their daredevil tendencies to the grave after dying in a fatal crash. They challenge living speedsters to a race, promising them great things- before revealing their ghostly nature. These unfortunate souls rarely survive, and their deaths fuel their hot rod.  

Video Nasty- a mad programmer who, obsessed with creating the perfect game, killed themselves with pills. He haunts this last game of his. Some players dismiss it as buggy, but others, curious, investigate and find a glitched out side quest that saps their sanity and eventually drives them to destruction. 

Handsome Gentleman- a model who killed the artist who painted him, and then himself. The painting is now haunted by his ghost. It will subtly move when you aren’t looking, the garden behind him might change, and some even say that it becomes a monstrous portrait when the ghost is mad. 

Unlucky Joe- a clumsy construction worker that died in a preventable accident, now an invisible wandering ghost that brings bad luck and increasingly dangerous accidents wherever he goes. He only actively haunts someone if they first blame their own clumsiness on his presence. Nobody will believe them if that ever happens.

Bloody Vanity- a vain noblewoman who was killed by an angry mob. She hasn’t forgotten her vanity, and haunts mirrors. Your reflection might move on its own, or even reach out to strangle you with a wicked grin. If she thinks you’re prettier than her, she emerges from the mirror, caked in blood. 

Cuddle Bug- a serial killer who was gunned down by police. Now a ghost, she tries to circumvent her new existence to find and murder more victims. She has possessed a porcelain doll, and anybody who is near it will be drawn to it. The doll moves on its own when you aren’t looking and is said to talk.

Grave Mistake- a grave robber that got too greedy and begun killing to make up for a lack of fresh bodies. For their crimes they were executed and then, parts of their body were turned into various objects. If any of them comes into your possession, they will take the equivalent part of yours to make up for it. 

Masked Maw- a woman that was mutilated and killed by her jealous husband and now wanders the streets, covering her disfigured face-turned-monstrous maws with a mask. Every now and then she will take it off. If you ever comment on it, she’ll make your face like hers with a pair of scissors, cursing you forever. 

Bog Snatcher- a biologist that drowned in the bog she was studying. Her body and mind became one with it. Her obsession with keeping it alive has taken her to lure people deep into the bog, where they get irreparably lost. She can haunt any body of water as long as it’s surrounded by plants. 

Doctor Grime- a quack that died due to their own faulty treatments. They appear to be a person in a historically inaccurate plague doctor costume, but the mask is part of their body, and they’re really a slender bird-like monster. It causes people to fall ill with some mysterious, unspecified weird disease. 

Requiem Peace- a pianist who perished of a heart attack while he played. He plays the piano, but remains invisible. His beautiful music imbues people with sadness, but he is full of rage and will cause a powerful supernatural storm indoors if interrupted, wrecking the house with wind and rain. 

Party Goer- a bon-vivant yuppie who died in their sleep after a wild party. They have long forgotten their human life, and look like a children’s book illustration come to life. They possess living humans, who slowly begin to resemble the ghost in body and mind, a giggly trickster always chasing new highs. 

Hook Sinker- a mysterious sea apparition that resembles a corpse with hooks for hands. It appears only on boats, and it slaughters the crew one by one. There never are witnesses. Once the whole crew is dead, the boat sinks to the depths of the ocean. It can be staved off if you sacrifice one hand to it. 

One is based off a certain literary character <3 tee hee hee

[contreparry]

Happy Friday! I hope this sparks something! How about "The aftermath of a scene you'll never actually write" maybe with something from DAO?

Absolutely! Here’s some younger Surana and Anders for @dadrunkwriting!

It was raining outside. It rained all the time in Kinloch. People said Ferelden was a rainy country and that Kinloch wasn't any different, but Bran knew better. Sunny days at Kinloch were a rarity, as if even nature itself wanted to punish them.

With divine judgement like that doing penance seemed pointless. But Wynne told him to scrub the infirmary floor while everyone else walked in the courtyard and enjoyed the rare sunlight, so Bran viciously scrubbed at the stone with a stiff bristled brush and scowled into the soapy depths of the water-filled bucket at his side.

"Surana," Anders whispered from across the room. He was an older boy, a Mage who came to Kinloch last summer, who clawed and bit and screamed in words Bran didn't understand. He was here too, scrubbing floors and rearranging medicines on the shelves, but Bran didn't know what the boy did to warrant such a punishment from Wynne. Maybe he ran again. Maybe he got into a fight. Maybe he snuck the kittens from the stables into the older apprentice's dormitories again.

Anders didn't blow up an alchemy kit while conducting unsupervised experiments, though. That was Bran. His ears still rang with the sound of the explosion and the skin on his palms was tender.

"Sur-an-a," Anders called again, almost singing his name in his odd, guttural accent. Bran turned his head away and felt his eyes prickle. He was laughing, wasn't he, and who wouldn't? Everyone knew that blood lotus was highly reactive, that you must work with it in perfect isolation, that even a stray spark would set the whole plant ablaze-

"Bran," Anders' voice went soft and pleading when he spoke again. "Let me see."

"'s fine," Bran muttered, and he dunked his hands (blistered, raw, painful) into the soapy, dirty water and oh, how it hurt! It was worse than that time he upset a hornet's nest in the orchard, worse than the time he tripped down the ladder in the library and bruised his shins, worse than the time before Kinloch when he briefly touched a hot fire poker-

A pair of slender hands wrapped around his wrists and tugged his hands out of the bucket. Anders clicked his tongue the way Wynne did whenever she was about to scold someone when he turned Bran's hands over and examined his palms. They were definitely not supposed to be speaking to each other. Wynne was explicit: no talking while cleaning, this is a punishment, not a social hour. But Anders never listened to rules, and Bran... well, he wasn't a good listener either.

"Nasty burns, those," Anders remarked as he reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out a clean linen cloth. "Ought to keep that bandaged up. But we can take care of it now." Anders began to dry Bran's hands, using clean water from his own washing bucket to wipe away dirt. His touch was as light as a dragonfly landing on a lily pad, and any time Bran winced he took extra care not to press too hard or quickly.

"Blood lotus sap is an adhesive," Bran mumbled as Anders worked. Heat rushed up to the tips of his ears. Blood lotus is reactive, blood lotus sap is an adhesive, of course it would cause awful burns if it combusted on a workbench, and he was only making extra work for all the healers by being foolish and doing experiments when he ought to be studying from the textbook- Anders dried his hands and grabbed something off of one of the shelves. A moment later he was back, kneeling next to him as he smeared a cool salve on Bran's blistered skin.

"Y-esss? Doesn't change the fact that you need bandages, Bran," Anders replied. "Wynne won't miss one or two. But you're so tiny we can cut one up and no one will be the wiser, hmm?" He smiled at him then, big brown eyes gleaming like they were sharing a secret. The good kind of secret, the kind that was just as precious as sunshine and made you smile and glow from the inside out.

"Okay," Bran said. Maybe today wasn't such a punishment after all.

[not-alien-girl-v]

Vampires Will Never Hurt You (Harry Styles)

Chapter 9

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

We had made it to his car, which he indeed own, although it was parked at his old apartment with Louis. I supposed he chose to live at our house rather than with Louis because of his vampirism because I couldn't imagine giving up the chance to live in a place like that for some stupid girls.

We hadn't gone anywhere yet, we were just sat parked in his parking garage, with him in the driver's seat and me in the passenger's.

Within a moment, however, he roared the engine to life and pulled out of the dark garage. The time was sometime after midnight, not too late, though.

I plugged the aux cord into my phone, and the song 'The Funeral Party' by the Cure started playing off my playlist.

I only allowed us to sit in a comfortable silence until we got onto a main strip type of road, with bright lights that illuminated the oh so familiar sights of LA, like Taco Bells, banks, 24 Hour Fitnesses, and other places such as those.

"Now tell me, what's really wrong Harry?" I picked at my nails. I'm generally good at this whole 'taking friends away on some impulsive, wild adventure to take their mind off whatever is troubling them', but when you really think about it, Harry and I are essentially strangers who only know one of each other's biggest secrets. I don't know his middle name. He doesn't know my favorite color.

Something about being vulnerable with him in a car with just the two of us made me uneasy. I wanted to get to know him better; I needed to. But that wouldn't come without a little bit of awkwardness.

Harry sighed, but not in contentment. Stress was etched all over his face. He definitely had something on his mind. "It's just- it's all of this."

"All of what?" I asked him, although I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was talking about. I go through it every 50 years or so, whenever I see a happy family with kids or a content old couple.

"This whole live forever or die thing. The fun part wore off a couple of days ago. Now I've been just..." He trailed off but I knew what he meant. I nodded in understanding.

"I get it. What does mortality even mean to anyone, anyway? At the very least, you can plan how you want to go out from the public eye." I tried to make him feel better with my last sentence but he just eyed me strangely. "I mean, if you were mortal, who knows what could have happened. Maybe you'd die in a couple of months from, I don't know, some nasty stomach bug. Maybe they'd find you sprawled out on your bathroom floor, dead, and they'd have to somehow break the news to your fans that food poisoning killed the one and only Harry Styles."

"Ah, I get it now. I suppose that is another benefit. Maybe I can plan something dramatic. Leave people thinking I'm still alive. Start my own conspiracy theory wiki page where people write their insane fan theories," he chuckled like that's something he might actually do, but I knew him well enough to know he doesn't like being the center of attention that much. "But there's still so much I haven't done. What am I gonna tell my mom? My sister? Will I have to leave them behind someday?"

"I totally understand. Trust me, if there's anyone who knows what it's like to have to leave people behind or even worse, lose people, due to this lifestyle, it's me. I've lost countless, some hurt more than others, but after a while, you get used to it," I paused, "and this is your life now. I'm just here to help you through it. If you want to tell your family, it'd be horrible to stop you. And yes, they will die someday. But... if you decide you want to turn them immortal, I want you to know that I'd do that for you."

Man, since when did I turn into such a sap?

"Thank you, Faye, really. But I couldn't do that to them. Just because I won't have a regular life doesn't mean they have to lose theirs. I think I want to keep things as normal as possible for as long as I can. I won't tell them anything until it's absolutely necessary." He loosened his grip on the steering wheel a little and his shoulders released a bit of tension.

"You seem like you have some stories. Who all have you lost?" There it was. The question I was hoping I'd never get asked. As much as I love talking about myself, there are some things that are better left unsaid.

"Um, too many to keep track of. I've been... around. For a long, long time. Plus, I don't really like talking about them. Just ask Donna, she doesn't even know the half of it." I spoke, my voice breathy and quiet. I was surprised he could even hear me over the noise of the engine and the music.

"Oh come on, just tell me about one. It might make me feel better," he pleaded with me, taking quick glances away from the road to meet my gaze.

"Well," I shifted my vision up to the night sky. We were in a convertible, with the hood down. I focused on everything I could aside from Harry, stalling. "The last person I lost, his name was Jesse Kellerman."

"And?" He kept on insisting.

"And? He was mortal. He died. End of story," I rubbed my arms as it started to get chilly.

"Did he know? About all of this?" The car went into a long tunnel and it got darker.

"Yeah. He said he didn't want to be like me. I listened. Eventually, he got older and realized he couldn't be living my lifestyle with me for the rest of my life. So he left. Got married. Had a few kids. Then he died of a heart attack a couple of years ago. I went to his funeral but..." I trailed off. When I realized Harry wouldn't speak until I finished, I continued. "I guess a long term immortal ex-girlfriend isn't something you tell your wife about. They asked me to leave, and I did. I haven't heard from any of them since."

"Faye I-" Harry started.

"No, don't. Trust me, I'm fine, I'll be fine. There's been worse, way worse than him, and I was fine then, I'll be fine now. Although I've noticed, I- I tend to gravitate toward romance, if that makes sense? Like I always feel like I'm looking for it, almost everywhere, yet I almost never get it. I guess it keeps me going. The idea that one day I'll find the right one. It's pretty dumb, being immortal and all I'm looking for is a sappy love story. You'd think in my 500 or something years I'd have things figured out, but, I guess I don't. Not as much as I thought, I guess."

"How about you?" I asked him, fully turning to look at him.

"What?"

"What do you want most? Like in your life. What's the most important thing you want to do?"

"Well, I never really thought about it that much. I suppose I should now, especially since my possibilities have opened up way more." The car came to a full stop at a red light at an intersection. "I want to be remembered."

"By who?"

"Anyone. Everyone. I want people to know that I was here. I want to leave a mark, I guess. I never want people to forget who I am, what I've done. I want to mean something to everyone."

I nodded my head, starting to understand him more. "That's a good thing to live by. And now, you'll have all the time in the world to do it."

He chuckled at that, but this time he seemed genuinely happy about it. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. It's about time you start noticing it, Styles." He laughed at me. Something tells me he's gonna be alright.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

[dancingisdangerouss]

Are you really giving up on black acres?? :( The story was literally perfect and the most interesting one I've ever read.. please don't let the copying thing ruin it 😭 You put so much effort and so many chapters into the story!!

I know, and this is going to sound hella lame, but Into The Black was a big turning point for me out of a time when I had been passively suicidal for a good while and struggling to get back into enjoying things, and writing it really helped me to start coping better and get out of that place. So, it’s a nasty smut fic for a horror movie, but I’m grateful for it!

Which is why I really want to see it through to the end, but I just can’t :/ It’s not petty or anything, I just really got something soured in me after that whole experience with the plagiarism. It hurt a lot and now when I open up that word document, I just stare at it and feel indifferent about it. I don’t really have the drive for it anymore.

Not to say it won’t ever come back? But it’s kind of just a reminder now of all the shit that happened and is still happening (I’m 99.9% sure they’ve found some other poor sap to copy from). Whereas Non Compos Mentis is new, and as far as I know, hasn’t been copied at this time (though I’m not looking at other fics in this fandom anymore, so who knows 🤷‍♀️).

But I digress. I did put a lot of work into it, and it’d be nice if one day I’m able to get back to it, but for the time being I’m just going to focus on NCM. Which I’m really excited for, actually! I’m hoping you guys will like what I have planned for it 😗

[fluffallamaful]

Remember the old Failed Disc Finale AU? Yeah, let’s bring it back now y’all —

So, at this point in time Dream hasn’t been destroyed by Pandora’s Vault, but he’s still not really stable. Like, his home has been torn apart, his pet has been killed and it’s corpse waved in front of his face like a taunt, he’s been repeatedly publicly humiliated, had a whole smear campaign waged against him that was so successful it turned even his closest friends against him — friends who he had to leave in order to keep safe from everyone else who would want to hurt him — point is, he’s not doing so hot. He needs this plan, he needs it to work. He’s gonna do what it takes to get there.

And right now, he’s gonna stage a whole ass grand finale to make the cogs turn.

Problem is, the rest of the server…sees through his lies really easily this time around. Like, he doesn’t even have half of the items he says he’s gonna get. There’s no security. There’s a nether portal right there. He built the Fucking Skeppy Cage. Nothing about this adds up. It’s all so, so stupid. And without the added context of Punz’s involvement, it comes off as Dream having some sort of mental breakdown.

And the difference is that while Dream is as fucked up here as he is in canon, to everyone else this has basically been a very intense game of some sort. Like yeah, they’ve still got some kinks to sort out, and Tommy IS genuinely angry at Dream for some of the shit he pulled in Exile, but they’re all still friends at the end of the day. They’ve been building things and destroying them for kicks and some of them have pretty nasty senses of humor, but. This is their home, yeah? Except now they’re seeing Dream, having a very public psychotic breakdown, and suddenly they’re wondering if maybe things went a bit far. (Maybe it’s even a case where Dream is the Only Human (as well as maybe Punz) on the whole server, and everyone else has seriously overestimated just how much humans can typically take —)

Tommy kills Dream twice, as in canon, as payment for what he did during Exile. But now he stops there instead of going in for a third — he’s satisfied by this in this version, because Exile-as-a-game didn’t affect him as badly as Exile-as-a-real-event would — and the server starts contemplating what to do. And it’s kind of awkward, because what the fuck is this — and suddenly someone suggests that maybe they need to use one of their old punishments for stealing toys. And people are confused until they subtly wiggle their fingers, out of Dream’s sight but in sight of everyone else.

Then all of their heads snap towards Dream with identical grins, and suddenly Dream’s feeling a swoop in his gut but it’s too late, he’s on his back with his head in George’s lap and Sapnap straddling his legs and the whole fucking server standing over him, ready to go.

Even then, it isn’t until Sapnap squeezes his hips that he realizes what’s about to happen.

>:)

FAILED DISC AU MAKES A RETURN WOOOO!!!

it’s just so damn cute coz he’s just trying his hardest to get this little act across and over with. and then everyone just takes it in a completely different direction than he expects 😭 like i love it so much. and the fact that he doesn’t quite realise what’s happening until sap actually squeezes his side 😭

i’m also still in love with the things we added to it before 🥺 the item teases and punz being dragged into it eheeeeee!! the realisation that maybe dream could just use some tickles in general 🥺 i’m intrigued to see what you’re planning to add to itttt 👀 i loveeee this oneeeeeeee

[heartsofminds]

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you (sneak peek)

“Something inside Bradley loves you so deeply, but he also can’t deny the fact that he loves the praise; the reassurance that he’s a good guy who is always doing the right thing.” or You’re going through it and Bradley is your only saving grace. 

A/N: Although it’s not Blooming and I know that the next part is what the people want, I’ve really just taken the time to pour my heart into an angsty, gut-wrenching Bradley one-shot that I’m planning on posting soon! Don’t worry, I certainly didn’t forget about Chick and Rooster, but enjoy this short preview of this new piece that will certainly break your heart once you read it in full. 

i. 

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so tired and that the cogwheels in your brain are doing that fucked up thing again where it sends you into overdrive and your entire body feels numb. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you can’t cry; that you can’t actually process what you’re feeling until after five when you leave the office today. 

But the burning sensation doesn’t go away no matter how much ice water you drink or how many times you excuse yourself to the bathroom to splash your face with cold water. 

It’s all one big, nasty, slimy feeling that clouds your conscience until you’re met with the front door of your safe haven; Bradley Bradshaw’s home.  The sniffles scratch at your chest like a stray dog begging to be let in. The whimper you let out is pathetic and you would’ve laughed at yourself if you hadn’t been so concerned with getting inside. 

Fuck. Was unlocking Bradley’s front door always this difficult? 

Bradley can sense you before he has any indication that you’re home. He joked how he could feel you oceans away when he was on deployment and while you thought that he wasn’t serious (Bradley was a sap and had a tendency to be so tooth-achingly sweet) you know that there’s some truth to it. 

It was odd how he was always so attuned to your needs; how he could always tell how you were feeling before you were even aware that you were feeling it. It was something that you had raved to your friends about in the earlier stages of your relationship, and definitely something that they had witnessed on nights out at the club when visiting you in San Diego.

Something inside Bradley loves you so deeply, but he also can’t deny the fact that he loves the praise; the reassurance that he’s a good guy who is always doing the right thing. He’s not doing it for brownie points, “per say”, but the praise does feel nice, and after having to fight tooth and nail to stand out - to be someone and mean something to someone other than his family - the good deeds and the compliments that arose because of them were satiating enough. 

But if he’s being honest with himself, he had always been that way. Despite his innate desire to recreate his parents’ epic love story, being empathetic and filled with space to make homes of other people’s sorrow was just something he was born with. 

Nothing new, and nothing special. 

You force the door open and try and breathe; the cold air of Bradley’s living room hitting your face and the dry heat of Southern California constricting your lungs even more than they had been. You just need a moment, you think. You just need to breathe and you’ll be okay. 

In, out. In, out. In, out. 

[bonefall]

And now, part 2!

I really don't like the idea of Skystar not just being the most xenophobic of the Founders, but also refusing to join his clan in exile to maintain power in StarClan? That's… wow. Way to strip all of the character development and intriguing aspects of Skystar's character from him.

Like… half the character development we see about Clear Sky is learning to move past his xenophobia and be more willing to listen to others, to be less stubborn and fearful. I truly can't see him being the most xenophobic of the founders�� and, in the end. SkyClan is all that Clear Sky has left in the end. He lost his mate two times over, his eldest son is the leader of ThunderClan and they are not on speaking terms. His brothers are in different clans as well, and while they settle some differences, I don't think it was a perfect ending either. SkyClan is his legacy. It is everything he worked for, everything he sacrificed for. The bloodshed, the pain inflicted, the bonds broken. Everything was for SkyClan.

It just… makes no sense for Skystar to refuse to follow his clan in exile for personal power. Not after all he sacrificed for the clan. And… if anything.

If anything. Skystar would be the leader of the Dark Forest. Star clan's greatest sin, abandoning one of their own. Out for revenge. SkyClan has been revived yes, but it is separate, and its culture has changed so much, is it truly SkyClan anymore? How many cats in StarClan feel no shame over their crimes? How many cats are still in the Dark Forest, due to this decision?

Sure, a Tigerstar v. Firestar fight would be fantastic… but that would still be through violence and battle. What better way than to cap off Firestar's story, by healing old hurts, and bringing peace where there was previously violence? Ending the battle, not by defeating its leader in combat, or through tactical ability. But by reaching out to the other side with compassion and empathy? Truly, what better way is there as a statement against the war culture of the clans?

And what better way for Firestar to save the clans one last time?

See, I don't think that Skystar ever actually developed. I don't think those are traits he ever ended up possessing, and furthermore, the absolute failure of his "redemption" arc is the worst idea that DOTC ever even THOUGHT about doing.

"Interesting" doesn't mean slapping sympathetic traits onto an extremely consistent antagonist. It just ruins good characterization.

-Skystar learned to be less xenophobic

No he didn't. He was nasty to Micah up until his death in Moth Flight's Vision, he was going to kick him out for letting Moth have sap. From a tree. A tree he was already climbing. Sap that he already had, in his mouth. That would save a cat in another clan.

He only let Micah into his Clan at ALL because StarClan TOLD him to, and even then, he was sitting there whining and crying that no OTHER clan had to take in a rogue. Furthermore? He probably wouldn't have even listened to StarClan if HIS kit wasn't sick.

Before his aggressive, selfish, xenophobic actions get Micah killed, he refuses to trust him. He forces him to take Acorn Fur as an apprentice. He's shouting at him all the time, screaming that no one is allowed to leave HIS Clan without permission, throwing his weight around about the borders AGAIN despite all his lessons in DotC...

Oh but maybe THIS time he's Really Learned His Lesson? Absolutely not. He is a xenophobe and he will die one.

And hey, let's not forget how he slashed Moth Flight across the face for telling him he was being an asshole for denying her the sap! Or how he was one of two primary suspects for the murder of Bumble, the battered housewife!

-He learned to listen to others

Clear Sky’s gaze flashed with fury. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to take in a rogue.” Wind Runner’s tail twitched irritably. “You’ve taken in plenty of rogues before, Clear Sky. You just don’t like being told what to do.”

This is constant. This is every scene Skystar is in. Someone saying,

"Clear Sky you should do this very obvious and good thing"

"NO!!! THIS IS MY CLAN AND MY TERRITORY AND YOURE STINKY AND I MAKE THE RULES AND YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO MEEE"

And you know what? HE is the reason Tiny Branch died, and YET, the takeaway he has from that lesson is that it's Wind Runner's fault, because he can never take blame for his own actions.

He got Micah killed. He didn't let Moth Flight finish training the apprentice he foisted on him. He STOPPED Acorn Fur from getting outside help until it was much worse. Then he blames Wind Runner, the ONLY outside force with any influence here, for holding up Moth Flight at the border.

He is categorically incapable of listening to others, or taking responsibility for the consequences of his own actions.

-He sacrificed for his clan

No? He doesn't sacrifice anything, he just loses people because of his horrific, violent personality and then post-hoc justifies it as a sacrifice.

HE abandoned his baby infant son, and rejected all of Thunder's desperate attempts to reconnect with him

HE threw his brother Jagged Peak out of SkyClan for breaking his leg

HE keeps starting fights

HE primarily instigated the battle at Fourtrees and got DOZENS of people killed

It's INSANE that the books tried to bend over in later DotC to say "awww he was just being protective uwu" In WHAT WORLD

IN WHAT

WORLD

DOES A "PROTECTIVE PERSON" KICK THEIR BROTHER OUT INTO THE WILDERNESS FOR BECOMING DISABLED??

-Everything was for SkyClan

My friend, you have it 100% backwards.

SkyClan is for Clear Sky.

Listen. To him, SkyClan is a thing he has made and he owns. LISTEN to his dialogue, CONSTANTLY, "MY clan" "MY territory" "MY kit" "MY cats" Mine mine mine. Everything he does is about him.

Yes, he can be protective at times. Protectiveness is the Dr. Jekyll to Possessiveness' Mr. Hyde. He sure wasn't protective of his disabled brother. Or his medicine cat. Or the safety of SkyClan as an extension of that. The primary trait here at play, for all it is, is absolute, abject selfishness.

And the worst part about the narrative is that it doesn't LET Clear Sky play the villain that he really is. It has this absolutely ridiculous "ohh he's a good boy deep down!" mindset which is absolutely undeserved

He's Ashfur on steroids, fire scenes every other book meanwhile "his only crime is that he loved too much," only there isn't 10 years worth of fandom condemnation yet to make the Erins backtrack and acknowledge it.

There is no redemption arc. There can be no redemption arc; because Clear Sky is not the sort of person who would ever want to change.

-So... Bonefall Skystar

Skystar is EXTREMELY respected by Clan Culture. He's THE symbol of War itself, he embodies the idea of the challenge, the might-makes-right. Without Skystar, they wouldn't have been Warriors. They would just be hunters.

First and foremost, he cares about respect. The tradition of the Clans. He's a fearsome spirit, and the exile of SkyClan... the most fitting way to describe the emotion he has would be offense. He's offended by it. But not enough to give up his position as the avatar of combat itself.

Respected spot on the council, more influence here than he ever had in life, he loves it. Why would he ever entertain the idea of the Dark Forest, a place full of power-stripped nobodies? Just for his namesake clan?

Aye, he founded it. And it was the strongest in the forest... for a time. In his day he would have FORCED ThunderClan to move over. He would have lead SkyClan into a furious war the likes of which no one had ever seen, all-out assaults, the leaf litter would have washed away in a torrent of blood! The fact that Cloudstar just rolled over and lead his Clan away, without a fight?

Well... it becomes pretty easy for him to justify it. And for any coward StarClan warrior who follows them. As a warrior, when you want something, you take it.

If anything, he probably threw a life to Ripplestar. Curious to see how much he could tank, how far he could get. Probably even ruled in his favor to bring him into StarClan, but of course, he was easily outvoted... and, he argues again, that if those dead SkyClan cowards hadn't left, well, maybe they could have voted with him.

In any case, you're free to interpret a character however you choose. I do hope my take on him is still appealing in its own way; but I will never entertain the idea that Skystar is any less than the violent, irrational, self-absorbed xenophobe he is in-canon.