#so at least i can get something tangible and fun and something to be proud of out of this

[michellesneptune]

The Dark Side of Planets: Where the Sun and Your Pride Lie

Psychologically speaking, pride shows us where we stand in our own eyes. It appears when we recognise our worth and achievements. „It is linked to one’s self-concept and identity, serving as a signal of competence and social status within groups.”

However, if you’ve read any classic Greek tragedy, you probably recognise the term Hubris — pride against the gods — which is what makes its characters tragic and leads to their inevitable downfall. Overconfidence and self-importance bringing upon revenge from heavens. This kind of pride makes it impossible to correctly recognise and resolve a situation one finds themself in.

The duality of pride — authentic versus hubristic — makes it quite a powerful, dangerous tool. In astrology we associate pride with the Sun which defines our egos and self-identity. The equivalent of Sun is, of course, the proud Leo. In this post we’ll look at how the Sun signs behave when they take their pride to an extreme.

‼️Please keep in mind that those observations only regard unevolved signs and are based on people that I know. If something doesn’t resonate — scroll past!!

Aries Sun/1H: You’re proud of always being first. Everything is a challenge and a competition, and you finish second to no one. You believe you deserve to lead everyone — and to scold them for any shortcomings. You can’t stand being proven wrong, and you take pleasure in punishing people for their mistakes and for not living up to your standards. You can turn into a tyrant because you see only the purpose, not the people involved. The Sun is strong here, and so is your willpower. You cannot believe others don’t have the same tenacity and drive as you do. It’s the scene in The Devil Wears Prada where Miranda says: Don’t be ridiculous, Andrea. Everybody wants this. You believe you’re the star of the show and people will be waiting for you with a standing ovation every time. Your pride doesn’t let you see others as competent. Your way is the only way. When you get involved in something, you invest 100%. You reject the possibility of being rejected. You like to play with peoples’ anger for fun because you yourself feed off adrenaline and seeing red.

Taurus Sun/2H: This one’s easy! You’re proud of your possessions, of course. There isn’t a force in the universe that could separate you from your goods. Not only material! You’re extremely proud of your god-given attributes and talents. There’s at least one Venusian quality about you that distinguishes you from others. You’re probably very beautiful and gifted in artistic fields. You often display diva-like behaviour because of that. You expect to be treated like royalty and act as if “peasant” activities (like washing the dishes) were beneath you. You’re stubborn as hell and self-opinionated, unable to take advice, and extremely sensitive when it comes to criticism of your “stuff.” For example, you could be a talented singer but refuse to take lessons because you already sound so good — even though, in reality, it would benefit you. Remember that key to success is not only potential, but also humility and hard work. There’s a saying in my native language: a beautiful bowl won’t feed you. It might sound funny in translation, but the message here is clear: you need depth beyond your vain, superficial qualities.

Gemini Sun/3H: You’re most proud of your communication skills and how you can craft words into tools for achieving your goals. You think you can sweet-talk your way into anyone’s good graces and are genuinely surprised when people expect actual, tangible competence and work. You’re so proud of your intelligence that you believe you can turn anything into a joke. You intellectualise topics that require vulnerability and place little to no value on the sentimental aspects of life. You think you can have three different opinions on a single topic, each with the purpose of impressing a different audience. You love pondering and debating but hate when you actually have to stick to one view and take responsibility for it. You’re proud of how well you’re able to impersonate others. You think oneness is boring, preferring and craving variety. You think your brains can save you from any hardship, but guess what? Real human connection requires openness and softness. Some people care about who you truly are on the inside, not the façade you curate each day so that everyone falls in love with you.

Cancer Sun/4H: You take pride in how much you understand others’ feelings, psyche, actions, and every aspect driven by emotion. You believe you see through their schemes and are already five steps ahead. What reinforces this pride is family — you would do anything for them, even if it’s bad, dirty, dishonest or even illegal. This is where your special ability to read others comes into play. You’re an excellent businessman. You justify your means if it’s for your family’s well-being and expect the same loyalty from them. You want your children to make you proud. You want to build an empire together — with you as the leader. You want to be a strong, know-it-all paterfamilias, even within friend groups. You know how to use people for your benefit by playing on their emotions. You can easily hide your real motives. Sometimes the pride makes you forget that your family (and closest friends!) have their own lives, wants and needs — but you think you know what’s best. That’s because you wish to save them from what you’ve already gone through and the hardships you’ve endured. Yet, allowing them freedom is sometimes the biggest act of care one can offer.

Leo Sun/5H: You’re proud of literally anything you do in your life😂 You stand for self-love to the fullest. You firmly and wholeheartedly believe that you’re the most deserving of others’ attention. A Leo that I know once said to me: You know, I don’t think there’s anything I am not good at. You want to be followed and carefully listened to as you preach. The influencer mindset. If you thought it, that means it must be true. The Queen is never late — either others are or they showed up too early. You’re proud of your bloodline and heritage, and with the Sun being at home here, your pride can actually be quite justified. You love performing and sharing your passion with others. However, if it goes sour, you can turn into an arrogant person who will do anything for attention. (TW: substance abuse) You may turn to substances or dangerous behaviors just to be noticed. You can’t handle rejection, and you might fall into depression when you feel your ambitions aren’t fulfilled and your potential isn’t utilized. Your pride desperately needs an outlet. Remember you don’t need to be perceived to be truly fulfilled.

Virgo Sun/6H: You’re proud of how “proper” you are. Reminds me of those crunchy moms that compete over which one’s healthier. Your Halloween parties are always perfect and you prepare the best snacks. Also Bree from Desperate Housewives. You believe everyone would benefit from being a little more like you are. You’re always right, in your eyes, and you tend to not notice when you’re actually in the wrong. You keep yourself ultra-productive so that you can judge others — and escape from your own hypercriticism. Believing everything should be done your way, otherwise it’s not efficient. Openly making a disgusted face when someone does something you don’t agree with. You’re very precise and detail-oriented, there’s a surgeon-like quality to you. You notice what others don’t — they look, but they do not see. You’re sensitive to everything happening around you, but sometimes that sensitivity turns into hypersensitivity, which makes you, truth be told, annoying to others. You are sharp and you are competent, but sometimes you’d benefit from being just human. The world will end regardless of whether your sheets are ironed and folded.

Libra Sun/7H: You’re proud of your connections. You love mingling with powerful, obscenely rich and influential people. You surround yourself with an army of them so you can feel powerful, too. You charm them with your intelligence and beauty, and poof! Suddenly, their success becomes your success. You put a spell on people, and they start to feel obliged to do things for you while you play innocent throughout the whole process. But you know exactly what to say for them to believe they’ve found the one and only perfect partner. You’re proud of being a socialite and attending elite events. You love “casually” mentioning who your partner is. You can get so focused on acquiring expensive connections that you forget about yourself. The Sun is debilitated in Libra, which is why it’s easier to connect to others’ success than to your own. You need to remember that not everyone is good, honest, or trustworthy. When people leave — and their resources leave with them — you’ve got to be able to stand on your own. Even more than that, you need to work on being proud of yourself, so that romantic partners become an accessory, not a necessity. You can be a rich lawyer or a successful doctor but it’s crucial that you invest in yourself first. It’s like Cher said: Mom, I am the rich man.

Scorpio Sun/8H: You’re prideful when it comes to control and how much you can execute through others’ work. You’d never admit it out loud, but you take pleasure in making people do things without them even realizing it. You’re another fixed sign, so your beliefs about yourself are set in stone and almost impossible to change. You may not even be aware of the manipulation you’re committing — that’s how deeply you believe you’re deserving of what you want. You often don’t care about the well-being of others unless they’re really close to you. You’re dedicated to self-preservation, and you’re proud of how well you know yourself. You’ve lived through depths that know no bounds, which makes you perceive others’ sentiments as shallow or even laughable. Sometimes you’re too proud to notice that people hide their emotional battles so well that even you can’t spot them. You already know how dedicated and brave you are. Maybe it’s time to share your experience with others and help them be better?

Saggittarius Sun/9H: You’re proud of your education and general outlook on the world. You’ve got refined political views, you’ve probably seen quite a few different countries and even continents, which gave you versatile experiences and ideas about society. You’re open-minded and likely know a lot about philosophy, history, geography or literature. You take pride in the scientific major you pursue because you probably chose something ambitious at a prestigious university. You like to brag about the university you attend. You silently (or not) judge people with less wide horizons. You laugh at those with poor grammar. You’re well-spoken, maybe in more than one language. You’ve dabbled in many different hobbies throughout life and you’re very proud of yourself when you manage to surprise someone with a random skill. The random piano hates to see your ass😂 You’d be like ohh but you guys, it’s been years, I’m not even that good and then play Rachmaninov. You’ve got to understand not everyone has been as fortunate as you and didn’t get the chance to explore and broaden their worldview. Or they just chose not to. Which doesn’t take away from who they are and what they stand for. You can educate people, just don’t be conceited about it. There are many different eudaimonic philosophies in life outside of bettering one’s mind and knowledge.

Capricorn Sun/10H: You’re proud of your status and how respected you are. You very well understand how the world is structured and that it has leaders and followers in it. Instead of fighting for justice and equal treatment, you fight for your name and legacy. You firmly believe in hard work and that everyone is responsible for their own happiness. You believe that, if you work hard enough, the world is your oyster. So you do. Work is holy for you and if someone disregards what you’ve worked for — you’re more than ready to fight. Catherine, the Princess of Wales, has this placement and she gives her all to her job in service, even while battling illness. You can be too proud to notice that someone else is struggling. It reminds me of the Kim K quote: Just get your ass up and work😭😂 Your survival skills are outstanding and I’m convinced you would manage just fine under literally any circumstances. Your pride can turn into workaholism and only emotional regulation system you have.

Aquarius Sun/11H: You hide your pride under “I don’t care” and “I’m not like others”. You want people to perceive you as effortless, cool and composed. Your innovativeness makes you regard others as stuck-up or dated. You judge them for wearing skinny jeans, looking ‘basic’ or not knowing a 2004 unreleased Lana song Did you know that Elvis and I loved each other while Jimmy played guitar on the Sunset Boulevard. You couldn’t be prouder than when you get a niche reference from an obscure, avant garde, improvised movie. You brag about how your 100 Tumblr followers are equal to 20k Instagram ones. You don’t want people to give you attention but you want them to regard you as fascinating and strangely sexy. You’d rather die than be like others. You’re proud of being an outcast and hating on the society, yet you’re a true humanitarian at heart and those instincts tell you to “save them”. You’re not immune to wanting appreciation. Sun’s light is actually dimmed in Aquarius, so it might be hard for you to accept applause.

Pisces Sun/12H: You’re essentially proud of never being proud and not having an ego. You disguise your actions as altruistic and act like a monk — while in reality you’re often driven by victim mentality and the need for being pitied. You want to give your all to others — seemingly for free — the reality being that they become tied to you forever in exchange. You chase the high that you get from saving others to the point of neglecting your own well-being. You’re scared of not being needed anymore. You’re proud of how forgiving and compassionate you are. Even if you’re doing it all for yourself. No one will come for you if you start doing things for your own happiness and chase your own dreams for once. You’ve got an excellent and quick understanding of very complex emotions and situations. Knowing what others need and struggle with comes very intuitively for you. Remember not everyone is able to be grateful for your work. Your childhood probably taught you that being Prometheus is the only right way of loving. Please check in with yourselves and be egotistic from time to time😭i love you

Sending you guys much love from the Baltic Sea. It’s been making me feel very serene and inspired — hence the frequent uploads🙆‍♀️ I’ve honestly loved every second of creating this post so maybe hoping it will turn into a series😳

Love you always!

Michelle~

[sublimewagondiplomatickid]

losing sight of purpose

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to find my niche something that I will be consumed by, my passion which I will pursue till the end of my time. I guess I was soon asked to focus on getting good grades and then getting a well paying job and so the passion was more of a goal to be achieved and not something less tangible to keep me going. I am not sure how it doesn't work but the way I see it, I work hard to get something I get something good enough but I see around and it's not as good as I thought, I am filled with anger, resentment and failure. I worked so hard, why didn't I get those results? I had not cared at times, but you see my mom(this is all about mommy issues okay) has always cared. So there I go disappointing her at every stage in life, I do make her proud at times and my sense of self worth slowly gets set to how well I do instead of how hard I work. It's capitalism at home version I guess.

I guess there's more to it then just that. She married a worse family than she was brought up in, she had to prove she was better maybe, she had to see herself in daughter maybe. Look I am not sure about why she put me through what she put me through, in a way I am glad too, it helped me plan my future which I didn't fuck up that bad. And maybe grilling kids a bit might be necessary to prepare them for the wrath of adulting they inevitably face. Could she have done a better job? Obviously. But for now, let's be content with what was done and focus on what is being done.

All is good, life is sorted, what is left for her but to get some company so she doesn't feel alone. But what about me? After being thrown into the endless hours of studying hard, and then endless hours in challenging environments, don't I deserve a more fulfilling life and don't I deserve to pursue it? Or does it stop mattering because there are old people to tend to and your purpose in life was to secure money so THEY can be at leisure in their last years and so the world goes on and on, putting the responsibility onto the young? 

I never wanted to have kids because pregnancy is scary as fuck. And it felt so restrictive, having to plan everything around a human being, I want to be more selfish. Maybe I sound a bit narcissistic as I say this but I think I am okay with it, or at least I want to be okay with it. I NEED to do something in my life, I need to try to do something in my life. Getting a job is not enough, I know I can do something more than that, then why am I stuck worrying about money, my mom, whether I am good enough or not, and everything else? If I were to die tomorrow, I’d look at a trying life and a trying me who didn’t let myself have the fun I should have had only because life decided to give me some trauma and my mom decided to change her identity with it. 

When I think about me dying from some terminal disease I see myself as giving up because anyway what good is going to come out of this life, with the way I am tied by all the rules. It is taking everything out of me to cut myself off each of these, what’s the point right? Maybe it’s best to just give up and sleep for the rest of the life. But I do not know when I will be dying, and I cannot keep sleeping for I don’t know how long. And if I give up, I will stop being the person I am, I will be someone I do not like, and that will make me angry. So I have no choice but to cut myself off these rules, and try, just try to live my life the way I pictured it in my head. If it works out, maybe I will get to live with a lighter chest for a while, and in my dying days perhaps I wouldn’t feel defeated but rather resigned. 

[astralartefact]

I did the thing the people do but on here nobody can stop me from also talking about it (link here if you want to do it yourself)

I put my current favorites at the top and my all time favorites (=the games I played in my childhood and still have strong memories about) closer to the bottom which created a nice gradient that happens to really fit my overall taste! There's serious stuff in one corner, there's straightforward brain empty fun stuff in the other and I get to like it all and everything in-between because favorites don't follow rules :)

Also: I put FF14's 5.1 in first place to symbolize YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse not Shadowbringers (because custom didn't work for me and that was the closest entry to it), FF14 as a whole is represented by the Stormblood entry (which I chose because it would make Heavensward people mad)

Also Also: I think my feelings about the first 5 are relatively well documented (Reincarnation here) so I will skip explaining those

Also Also Also: Spoilers

Xenoblade X best Wii U game (Yes, I proudly own a Wii U, that thing was great and I won't hear anybody say different q_q) I want a sequel so bad.

The way it was a fake MMO with pseudo guilds was so cool to me, it really made exploring Mira feel part of this big thing everyone was working on together and it worked really well with the character creator too. Also experiencing Sylvalum for the first time will always be one of my favorite video game moments ever. (also i have not played any other xenoblade so far)

Bravely Second In my teens I had this weird obsession with playing the second game of a series without playing the first?? I did it with FF13-2 (which I dropped because I couldn't get past a certain boss early on lol) and also with Bravely Second, but with the difference that I actually knew what BD1 was about lol (and also I had played 4 Warriors of Light before too)

I just have a lot of love for Second? I really like Ryo Supercell's soundtrack for how well it still fits with the half of Second's soundtrack that's just Revo's soundtrack again despite being so fundamentally different. Like you knew what was old content and what was new by the obviously different music, but it still fit, at least to me. Altair and Vega's Theme is still one of my favorite pieces ever. Also Magnolia.

NieR Replicant Yeah. ... ... ... Maybe I should put Drakengard 1 here-

Final Bar Line Shoutout to the DLC for making me check out SaGa!!! (also I needed some Rhythm Game in here, I love Rhythm Games but I never stick to one enough to say "Yes, That One.")

Pikmin 4 This would have been Pikmin 2 if Pikmin 4 wasn't the best game ever. The only note I have is that some of the (later) dungeons could have had more interesting bosses, but aside from that it's absolutely great.

Fire Emblem Fates [Bracing for impact] I get it. Yes. We all know the story sucks. You can stop prefacing any vaguely positive statement made about this game as if to make sure you aren't thought of as one of those weebs. No, you are a smart weeb who likes FE4 and knows that Thracia exists. You think Incest is bad (wait what is FE4 about again) and the dating sim shit is really really cringey. Also something something bad localisation, something something bottom half of Camilla's design. Kaga would be proud.

I just think it's neat. I do like dating sims (there i said it), I like a lot of the characters and their designs and I think the child units - as dumb as their explanation might be - add a tangible pay-off to developing supports between party members and it adds so much replay value too. I have played Fates more than any other FE game I own and it's mostly because I can develop the children into classes they certainly shouldn't be, like making Shiro a viable mage just because I can, who cares, and all the while I discover a new line of supports. And the fact that it's not brick hard really helps with that, I don't have to sit down and plan out every step I take only to reset once I inevitably stop thinking for a second just to do a silly little run of the game.

It might not be for you, but it certainly is for me :P

AI Somnium Files This is on here for gay reasons: In one of the earlier scenes in the game (I think before going into the mind thing for one of the first times or something? It's in that room overlooking the mind link machine) I examine a shelf in the background - as you do in games like this - and there I found Pewter's gay manga collection.

And of course I thought this is just your average japanese visual novel, this is all I get, a funny little hint - not even a straightforward confirmation - that this character is maybe gay or something. But no, him being gay is an actual plot point that's relevant to the story. And I felt so happy that this thing - which at that point was my own little inside joke every time he was on screen (haha gay pewter, don't worry i won't tell on you... also you're cute) - was actually real??

People always point to that Mizuki scene (which dont get me wrong is great in its own way!) but for me finding Pewter's gay mangas will always be the thing I will remember most about this game.

Dragon Quest Builders 2 I was so in love with DQB1 and with what they have shown of 2 in livestreams I ended up importing the japanese version because there was no telling when it was getting an overseas release. And then when it finally released here I of course also bought the translated version. What can I say, It's great! I hope they're doing a DQB3 in the future, but I kind of doubt it (sadly)

Inazuma Eleven Go 2 Chrono Stone Listen. I only played Inazuma Eleven as a joke. My little brother was really into soccer and online it was constantly advertised as "Pokémon but soccer" so I just tried it out to see if he would like it.

I ended up playing through all of the first trilogy (aside from the first game) on japanese - without understanding a single word - because I was just simply so hooked. (For anyone wondering: I definitely did this legally. There were definitely no NDS flashcards involved. The reason I didn't play Go until it finally came out in Europe was definitely not because 3DS emulation wasn't really an easily viable thing back then.)

And I loved when it went crazier with Go and the Keshins! I even would have liked Go Galaxy if it didn't force me keep the most unlikeable characters in the entire franchise around (also the Souls are a full on downgrade to Keshins and MixiMax in terms of flashiness), which is why I'm putting Chrono Stone here instead.

I'm so excited for Victory Road, even though it's bittersweet that it's going to end there... but honestly I'm just glad Level 5 gets to release another Inazuma Eleven after the past few years of hell they've been through.

Spirit Tracks Best Zelda. Moving on (choo choo)

Fur Fighters Okay, my parents bought this together with our PS2, I highly doubt they knew what this game even was about and I highly doubt you know what this game even is. It's not even necessarily good and I don't think I should have played it at the age I have played it at, but... I sincerely think it has shaped a lot of my interests in an indirect way??

Basically, the setting is just cute animals saving their children with the power of guns, that's all you need to know about it. (They're also plush toys, but I somehow didn't even really realize that as a child lol) It was dreamt up in a fever dream, but it's just really good too? I need to replay this game so bad.

There's just so much stuff from this game that randomly pops into my head that I remember fondly. There's a (secret) world that's just a house but big (chibi robo style) that I always think of when any other game does it...

And in hindsight this game is so fascinatingly big? The levels are enormous and there are so many of them? And nobody seems to ever have heard about it? It's wild.

Harvest Moon Animal Parade It was between this one or Tale of Two Towns, those two are the Harvest Moons I have spend the longest time with. I'm still sad the Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons name fiasco happened and now all people know is Stardew Valley, which In My Opinion(!!!!) has the only benefit of being a PC game, most Harvest Moon games from the before times are better than it and yet nobody even acknowledges them anymore because of a good-ish indie game that's for the most part just a retro style PC version of Harvest Moon + Rune Factory.

But well, that's how the cookie crumbles. Good for him.

Pokémon Heartgold I was only allowing myself one Pokémon game and I already have Fates on this, I can't take one of the switch ones even if I would be fine with those too. I was also debating BW2 or Platinum, but then again I like all of them, I just don't like talking about it anymore because the internet has made Pokémon one of those topics that you just do not discuss in public if you want to keep your sanity.

Shoutout to Pokémon XD and Coliseum for being cool too.

Mario & Luigi RPG (entire series, but especially Partners in Time) Talk about gone to soon Q_Q My heroes. Legends. Icons. DId you know Yoko Shimomura wrote the music for this series??? It is simply iconic. I really hope with the Super Mario RPG & Paper Mario TTYD remakes on the horizon that they maybe revive/reboot this series too and give a new gameanother shot despite the flop of the remakes because this type of skill based JRPG is not only really unique but also really fucking fun and there's not really much else like it. For some reason I always thought I'm an JRPG gamer, but I have since discovered that I'm really not, I'm just a Mario & Luigi RPG gamer.

(And yes, I know AlphaDream is dead but that doesn't mean Nintendo can't just continue the franchise even just with a spiritual successor)

Paper Mario TTYD I mean, I think you know. Everybody likes TTYD. I also like all the other ones, I even thought Sticker Stars was fine even if it wasn't as good. I think this would actually be Origami King, but I haven't actually played that one myself (yet)

Speaking of which the music of Origami King is in my top3 favorite OSTs of all time and i'm not kidding about that, listen to the Autumn Mountain Battle Theme and tell me that's not some of the best shit you've ever heard - and almost every single track is like that. and don't get me started about the "joke" tracks (royal hotel pool or swan lake.) and the boss themes. and tranquil pipes teahouse. and then there's moments like the secret trans birdo affirming coffee club. it's so good, I'm so looking forward to what's coming next for Paper Mario and seeing that Nintendo seems to have revised their stance of Generics only with Wonder, the next one is probably going to be amazing.

Skyward Sword I LIKED THE MOTION CONTROLS

Rollercoaster Tycoon (I do like 3 too, I actually played that one much more, but I chose Loopy Landscapes because for some reason that expansion never worked on my pc as a child q_q I'm still yearning) Yeah. Not really much to say, I think. Except maybe that the art style of 1 and 2 is so... peculiar? Like it's so timeless it doesn't age the slightest, but it was also somehow already dated when it released? It's really beautiful in a way, but also kind of ugly. I don't know. I don't make sense. I love these games so much.

Super Mario Sunshine So many good memories, it would be wrong for me to not include it.

Yoshi's Island See above.

Mario Sports Mix I played this game (and Hoops 3 on 3) so much as a child/teen? And the music of this game is so good too. Makes me wonder what Masayoshi Soken, niche composer of Mario Sports Spin-Off Games, is doing these days.

[bunni-v1]

No because he’s soooo Odysseus coded it’s not even funny.

He’s trying his best for so long to do the right thing, stay loyal to the Tsaritsa and try to live by his own moral code as much as possible. Protect the innocent people in his life from his shame, and make his Archon proud simultaneously, but at some point he just can’t anymore.

He can’t hide who he is forever, and he knew that. You would inevitably see him for the monster he’s been since joining the Fatui, he was just hoping it would be on better terms…

Childe had picked an incredibly reckless fight, outnumbered one to a hundred. His men were supposed to come for backup, but in the end they had failed to report, leaving him alone. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle it by himself, the rush of being outnumbered was fun for him. He took out his enemy without much physical effort on his part — he was the Tsaritsa’s weapon, of course.

Still, as he stood victorious among unrecognizable bodies on ground so soaked in blood it had become soft beneath his feet, he knew that he should have retreated. He was loosing blood, fast. The entirety of his dress shirt was stained crimson, most of it not his own. He was lightheaded, his limbs screaming at him to lay down, but if he did he knew he likely wouldn’t get back up.

The nearest medical center was too far, he wouldn’t make it unless his brethren managed to stumble upon him. Unlikely. The only option was you.

You lived nearby, close enough that he could walk there. He wouldn’t involve you if he had a choice, but with the way the world was spinning… well, he couldn’t leave you alone in this world either.

He stumbles his way through the bodies, gripping at his side as he makes it to your front door on instinct. It’s all his strength to knock on the door, leaning his weight into the doorframe. He almost thinks you won’t answer — he wouldn’t blame you. It was late and this place was crawling with shady types recently.

Yet, he hears shuffling, and you crack the door open to peer up at him. Surprised delight crosses your face, smiling as you open the door wider. He tries to match it, but fails as your eyes roam over the rest of him. He can see the panic come over you in seconds, ushering him in to your bedroom and making him lay on your perfectly clean sheets. Staining them. Tainting them. Ruining them.

He does his best to ignore the poetic symbolism he would soon echo with your relationship. Instead peeling his clothes off as you patiently work on patching him up. You know somethings off, he can tell in the way you bite your lip, holding back your questions until he’s cared for. Always so considerate of others with your big heart, a heart he was entirely undeserving of.

You wrap the gash in his torso so carefully, cold hands keeping him grounded in reality so he doesn’t pass out on you. You give his food to eat and water to drink, and you wipe the blood from his face like it was any other mess. You won’t ask what happened, but he can feel the question burning in your gaze. Why wouldn’t you want to know?

The least you deserve is an explanation, some kind of tangible reason as to why your sweet little Ajax was covered in more blood than his wounds necessarily implied. The inevitability of crushing one of the last things that let Ajax remain Ajax had come.

He swallows, taking a deep breath, “I’m sure you’re curious what happened?”

His voice is still somehow light, clinging onto the hope that you won’t shun him. Not like his family has, not like his people have. He couldn’t handle it if you did too.

“I’m worried,” You sigh, pressing your fingers to his cheek, “you were… covered, Ajax. How could that have happened?”

A shaky breath, barely preparing himself for the heartache he was about to ensue, “I am not the kind and Gentle Ajax you’ve known since you were seven. I’m… I’ve become someone— something else. I’ve done horrible things, I’ve abandoned my morals in the name of my Archon — And I would do it again and again so long as she asks. Have you not noticed the way people look at me now? The fear in the eyes of our old neighbors and friends?”

You watch him carefully, expression unreadable. His heart pounds in his rib cage a million miles a minute, ready to give out when you reject him. Yet, you take a shaky breath and instead ask, “What kinds of things have you done?”

He bites at his chapped lips like that might save him from reality. He’d fought some of the most treacherous battles in Teyvat, faced off against gods and sovereigns, survived a fall into the abyss… yet this was the most nervous he’d been in his life. Funny how war can numb you to so many horrible things, but manages to leave you vulnerable to petty feelings like love and hate.

“I have killed thousands…” He begins, eyes falling to the floor, “I enjoyed killing thousands. I’m nothing more than a weapon for the Tsaritsa to use, and I’m proud of that fact. I nearly crushed an entire nation on her orders, I have betrayed friends for her sake and I would continue to do so in the name of her goals… I- I’m not the same person, I can’t keep you safe from that anymore.”

There’s a crack in your strong mask, a twitch of some kind of emotion he couldn’t quite distinguish, “You promised me you’d always protect me…”

“I’ve never broken that promise,” He squeezes out, breathless, cradling your face in his hands as habit, “Never. I would never— I made an oath to you. The first oath I’d ever made. I don’t care if I was seven and acting childish, I would never break those, I’ve never broken any promise to you. I will always protect you, don’t you ever doubt that.”

Your face shifts between hurt and anger and sadness, unable to rest among the whirlwind your heart was going through. He just wanted you to scream and push him away, get the torment over with. You don’t, he knows you won’t. It’s not in your nature.

“If you remember that, and you still uphold it, then you are my Ajax,” You say sternly, sending a pang through his chest, “Don’t you ever tell me you are anyone else. I know who you are, no matter what you’ve done, you’re always my Ajax. And I will fall in love with whatever iteration of you that crawls itself to my front door over and over again until you understand that.”

For the first time in years — maybe since he’d fallen into the abyss — he cried. Salty wet tears streaming down his face, ones you kissed away with reverence. Allowing Ajax the opportunity to rest, for the very first time since he’d joined the Fatui.

He presses his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent so deeply. It smelled like home — here in your arms he was home. He wasn’t a harbinger here, he wasn’t a weapon, he was simply Ajax. Your Ajax. He only needed the reminder.

everyone shut the FUCK up. epic the musical 'would you fall in love with me again?' x childe where he's sheltered his spouse / partner from the extent of his violence and abyssal corruption and they find out.

[ask-zerotrio]

Zero Lab Log Entry: Last Log Entry Recorded

[We left once... If... what if...?]

[Only if they forgive us, Sada.]

[I know, but...]

[...]

Clavell holds Arven gently, waiting patiently for his sobs to subside into sniffles. His still healing torso aches from the position, but he hugs Arven anyway. His boy.

What on earth happened?

Clavell had wished for another life... spent with his loved ones, and gotten it... in the form of a vision, so real and tangible it hurt to remember.

Sada... Turo... had they left the crater with him. Had they raised Arven with him. Had they grown old together.

Instead, Arven grew up with just him as a parent, and Sada and Turo died in the crater, replaced by robotic copies of themselves.

Exhaustion weighs heavily upon Clavell.

What a mess.

What had he done to deserve any of this?

Besides be involved with the two most disastrous and wonderful people to walk Paldea?

Melancholy threatens to drown him then, but Clavell notices the plethora of gifts and get well soon cards by his bedside.

He might have lost Sada and Turo... but Clavell found new treasures to cherish in the end: his precious students and people around him.

People he came to know after leaving Area Zero.

"Arven… how did I get out of the crater?"

"Mom and d- They dragged you out of there. After, hurting you." Arven almost growls.

What.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Arven peeled himself off Clavell with a snarl, turning to address the door. It seemed as though he already knew who it was.

"Arven-" The new voice starts.

"Didn't I already tell you tin cans NOT to disturb-" "Turo...?" Clavell shifts in attempts to look, only to be rewarded with a sharp pain in his ribs that leaves him gasping for air.

"Clavell!" Three voices yell in alarm, rushing to his bedside to fret over him. Once they figure he's alright, Arven returns to his defensiveness, and the two adults, remorseful.

Somehow, Clavell knew it was neither the Protocol or the AI versions of his once best friends and partners by his side.

It feels strange, for this to be their reunion, the first time in years.

Clavell blinks, confused, baffled, but also oddly relieved.

His laugh is a shaky one, something in between a chuckle and a sob, and comes out as more of a wet and strangled wheeze.

They were a strange family with much left to mend and years of hurts left to sort. Still, Clavell felt dangerous hope bloom and grow...

...because lost treasure, like family, could be found again.

[END]

-

-

-

A/N: Woooooo. That wraps up this Ask blog's plotline + the blog itself. I had been musing this plot's wrap up for a long while, and to date I think drawn about 100? asks. It was a lot, a blend of comics, animatics, fics, weird ARG junk, which I hope was a fun/interesting means of delivering this story and enjoyable experience!

Admittedly, I did lose steam at the end, out of a mix of burnout + general disinterest in this plot. Regardless, I'm glad I pushed through to wrap it up at least. There are also many parts of the ask blog I'm quite proud of :) If you've got questions or comments remaining about this story, please feel free to send things in!

As for the future of this blog, I'm likely to leave it as is, and return to using my regular art blog @wyrdle + exploring new original/zerotrio-inspired works.

Till then take care and thank you for sticking around for so long!

[castielcommunism]

what's your hc about deans sexuality?

To preface, this is just my own perspective. It’s not a condemnation or dismissal of the way other people view Dean because this is all just harmless fun. I’m gonna be talking about him as if it’s taken for granted that he’s bi, but obviously there’s a whole other messy debate about that that I don’t want to get into lol.

The two dominant interpretations or narratives about Dean’s sexuality in the fandom (at least within the destiel portion of the fandom) is that he’s either so deeply repressed that he’s not consciously aware of his attraction to men, and has a whole identity crisis once he realises it, OR he’s out and proud about his attraction. and again I’m not shitting on those interpretations, I just personally find both lacking in some way.

I personally prefer the idea that he’s very much aware of his attraction to men, and has been for a while. His feelings about it are therefore pretty “mature” because he’s been consciously reckoning with it for his entire adult life. He’s used to it, he’s gotten “comfortable” with that being part of who he is, and while he’s not ashamed or disgusted by it, he’s not especially proud of it either. In fact I think he finds it hilarious in a way, like “cool another thing I have to deal with that makes my life harder, awesome.” His father wants him to be a real man, A Manly Man, a tough guy, and his father also wants Dean to follow every single order John gives him. But Dean can’t truly ever be a “real” man because he’s attracted to other men.

I said this in another post but I don’t think John was virulently homophobic or anything, because he didn’t need to be. John, by and large, does not show much care or deference to Dean (see: “Even when [Sam and John] fight, that’s more concern than he’s ever shown for you.”). So I think John was homophobic, but I think he was homophobic in the sense that he was dismissive about it. Like, cut that shit out and don’t make me tell you twice, end of story. And that’s all John needs to say, really - he doesn’t need to have a blowout fight with Dean about him being a homo or anything. Dean follows his dad’s orders, and his dad said being with men is off the table. No further discussion required.

And that’s deeply traumatising, obviously! Not only does his father find a fundamental part of his own son repulsive, but he won’t even grant Dean the vindication of a huge ongoing fight. There’s no tangible “evidence” that his dad is a bigot for Dean to be angry about. John just doesn’t fucking care.

And it’s also an order Dean can’t actually follow. It’s one of the reasons why I ultimately prefer bi Dean - he’s genuinely attracted to women, but it’s so deeply tied up with “doing what my dad tells me to do” that it still feels compulsory, like a duty he has to fulfil, and it’s very difficult for him to untangle what is sincere attraction to women and what is just him doing what he’s supposed to. In this interpretation, Dean’s problems regarding his sexuality don’t come from active repression, but rather a conscious obligation to “be a man.” Being with women is simpler & easier, and it’s something he feels comfortable expressing in public.

But he still pursues men - he’s aware of his attraction to men and he acts on it, but it’s a covert indulgence that makes him feel intensely guilty because it’s a purely “selfish” way of seeking out love and affection and sex.

So for me I enjoy the idea of Dean being long suffering about his bisexuality, about it being this unfortunate fact of life that he has to deal with. He finds it funny in a dark sort of way, he’s resigned to it more than he’s fully comfortable with it, but he’s very much aware that it’s a part of who he is. Like, I’m such a massive fuck up that I happen to be attracted to men on top of everything else, that kind of thing. His life is a punchline.

I don’t even think this is an inherently depressing read of him, either. I even find it liberatory in a way - you can feel disquieted about an aspect of yourself because it causes you a lot of problems in your life without that being something you need to “work on” like internalised bigotry. It’s not disgust, it’s not pride, it just is what it is. I like the pragmatism in that!

And I enjoy that perspective because it ties a lot into Dean’s complex about being a freak, and his obsessive need to prove his own masculinity, and the weird obligatory way he often pursues women. I know people joke about Dean being deeply un-self-aware, and like that’s a very fair reading of him, but I like the idea of him being deeply, excruciatingly aware of all of this and still doing it anyway. His father has been such a potent force in his life that the threat of John Seeing Me Do This is the thing that drives Dean (even years after John’s death), not necessarily all these subconscious impulses and tendencies that he’s not aware he’s engaging in. Dean knows he looks like a massive tryhard because he knows he is one. That’s his entire problem - none of this shit comes naturally to him. In fact, “naturally” for Dean is a state of being his father would find repulsive, annoying, and distracting. So Dean accepts it for what it is, he doesn’t make a big deal about it, and he tries to do his best despite knowing deep down that no matter what, his dad will never be impressed by or proud of the man Dean actually is.

[ratbastarddotfuck]

So today an all ages drag event at the pride center in my city (Melbourne Aus) was cancelled due to threats from nazi groups like the proud boys. The community had been gearing up to counterprotest and drown them out, but at the end of the day the risk was deemed not worth it to all those queer kids and the event was cancelled.

This is fucking horrifying to me on a very personal level. This is the third such incident that I've been aware of in my city in recent months - the first was an event that I was a vendor at, a youth pride at a library, where fash protested at the doors. The second was across the road from my house, at a festival that just happened to include a drag performance, where nazis showed up and screamed from the sidelines. This third time, the event was cancelled before the threat could become tangible, and it was directed at our actual community pride center.

That community center is my home. I am there every single month as a vendor at the long-established queer markets. I am going to be there even more, soon, to join the queer community radio and broadcast station as a volunteer and podcaster. People I love are there every day. My community is there every day. The people who work there are all community members. They're people who survived the aids crisis. They're 40 year old trans women. They're 20 year old queers getting involved in activism for the first time. They are people I know, and people I don't know but consider my family anyway. I feel so much at home when I'm in this space, surrounded by my people.

All of these people, all the years of community resources that have been built for us, all of this is under incredible threat right now. Not just in my city. The rise of facism is trying to strangle us out. We can not let this happen.

What can I do?

- Get connected to your local queer community. This will be more relevant for big city areas, but don't discount the power of rural queer groups! Go on Facebook (yes, Facebook) and search for "[city] [trans/queer/bi/etc]" and see what pops up. For example I am in Melbourne trans fam, Melbourne bi network, melbourne aces+, Australian nonbinary community etc groups. Many of these groups will have discord servers as well. Connect. Converse. Make friends and find out what is happening around you. This is the one thing Facebook is great for. Go to events, follow local artists, stay connected. You will hear about it if something like this is going down. You will be given ways to help.

- Learn self defence. I cannot stress enough that you should try to learn at least a few self defence techniques in times like this, especially if you are visibly trans/queer.

- Do not go looking for a fight. If you're going to an event where there is risk, don't try to antagonise nazis. Stay away, travel in groups, and stay aware. Don't let them ruin your fun, but don't lose track of your surroundings. Stay safe.

These are just the things that I can think of right now. The most important thing is staying connected and knowing what's happening in the community around you. We need to protect ourselves by protecting each other, and we need to stand firm. Our family is hurting. We need to protect it.

[expatesque]

Do you have any advice for the days / weeks / months after you’ve decided to blow up your own life? It’s feeling very scary to have abandoned everything I was working towards (career / relationship / flat etc) all at the same time…

Blow up your life 2k22 (or 23?)! What a throwback, love this!

Blowing up your life is 2 parts terrifying, 1 part exhilarating. And once you've actually done the blowing up, you enter the deeply scary part of rebuilding. I'm proud of you for doing it! You're on your way to making something better.

But how does one actually do that...

So to start, give yourself a week or a few days to be a puddle person. Just totally shrug off productivity expectations and sink into your laziest self. Watch a whole season of a show in a day. Get all meals delivered. Sleep, any time you want, with abandon. Revel in your unproductivity.

And then it's time for routine. Wake yourself up at a consistent, pleasant but not too lazy time (for me, that's 7:00 but I'm a morning freak). Start your day with something that gets you on the right foot (read: not scrolling for an hour). I recommend a stretch and a tea. You might be a roll straight to the gym person or a walk for a delicious coffee person. Whatever works, as long as it gets you moving and out of bed.

You're going to need to structure your days or you'll get terrified facing into the maw of empty time. I would recommend putting aside a few hours a day for 'productive' time. I mean productive in the widest sense, but with an eye on future goals. So spending an hour learning Spanish would definitely go in here, but at least some of the time should be things directly related to your 'how will I feed myself' future. If you are going to be applying for jobs, that would obviously be in this bucket. But if you're taking some time or doing a major career switch, consider doing something that will get you closer to what you want, even if you aren't sure what that is yet. That might be picking up a new skill like learning SQL, it might be setting up/attending networking coffees, it might be baking cakes if you want to be a pastry chef! Whatever it is, spend some time forward looking so that you make sure you're getting something out of this experience.

But it shouldn't all be work related! You blew up your life for a reason, so now is a good time to work on areas of your life you always wanted to improve on. Cooking yourself a beautiful meal definitely can be in the productive category, as can going for a walk, doing some sketching, volunteering, going to the gym... Whatever areas of your life you want to improve on, spending some time on them is productive. I would allocate 3-4 hrs a day on this productive stuff, and at least an hour per day of that should ideally be future looking.

And then the rest of the time is yours! Wander around where you live, explore. Meet your working friends for coffee near their offices. See the museums when they're empty. Bake cookies and bring them to your friend who's studying for an exam. Read books, definitely. Do things that are fun, but do them after you do your productive time. Oh and definitely make sure you're seeing people, it's easy to feel really isolated during this time, especially as you're coming out of a relationship too. Pick up friendships and acquaintances that fell off your radar because you were too busy, see if they're worth reviving.

And lastly, I recommend having a deadline for the career part of blowing up your life. Sometimes this exists naturally (e.g. you have savings for only 6 months) but when it doesn't, deadlines really help bound your time. You want the outcome of this period to be tangible changes in your life, and having a deadline can make sure that happens. So set yourself one - by 1 June I will have a new job or I will have applied to PhD programs or I will have moved out of my parents house, whatever that is for you. But without a deadline, I feel it's easy for this to just be a lazy time vs an intentional, reset your life time.

Good luck! And enjoy! This should be fun, if scary. It's a great time to reset the foundations of your life, so make sure you're being intentional about that while still giving yourself time to recover and enjoy. Have a great time babe.

[non-un-topo]

random ass questions about ur stories: ok I don’t remember the title but ur recent long fic that was like. the aftermath of losing quynh and they were on that island with the fun-shaped stone that Nicky found? if ur happy to share I’d LOVE to hear about like. what part of the story u came up with first. like what image/vibe/plot point etc stuck in ur head so much that u wrote a whole fic about it yk? I absolutely LOVED that fic and would love to know!! hope ur having a good day and also no pressure to respond 🫶💕

🥺🥺 Ohh friend, thank you!! I'm so glad you liked it, and I'm sending lots of love to you!! The fic in question is Axis! (you're gonna get me talking about this big baby of mine and I won't shut up lol, I'm shy but I've had a lot of caffeine and I'm excited) <33

So I actually went looking through my old docs, phone notes, and physical journals for the first idea I had of this fic after I read your ask, because I could not seem to remember?? From what I managed to dig up, it was based on vibes first. I have some journal notes on "aporia", a state of ambivalence, and liminal space. I think I started writing it in October last year, during a very weird time where my mental health was... not great. In short, and hopefully without oversharing, I thought I was having a psychotic break. Turned out it was likely the CBD capsules I was taking for my chronic pain, which had a psychoactive effect I hadn't anticipated (like 0.1mg of THC and somehow it was enough). Anyway, at that time I started writing a lot of garbled philosophical thoughts, and I'll share this one for you because I'm almost certain it's what inspired Axis: (also putting the rest of this under a read-more so I don't annoy anyone sdfghfd)

What is the present? I wonder, because the moment you put your attention on it, it becomes the past. It vanishes. We think about present moments, but they’re already gone. All that exists is this idea of ‘happening’: All that will happen, and all that has happened. Neither is tangible. Neither can be held or kept. In thinking about the future, we imagine possibilities. In thinking about the past, we revive in our minds what has already happened. The only present that exists is the imagination. The dream. That which removes us from our reality, from our position in time and space. Where exactly is that? Rather, where are our selves in that state? Do we linger? Do we go? And if so, where? How long is the length of a single present moment? Can our lives exist as this single thread, if we spend it in dream-state? Are we forever suspended, or do our recollections of the past, our imaginings of the future, tether us to something tangible after all?

Anyway, right below this is the first line from Axis: "It is wondrous how quickly things can change in a moment."

Besides vibes and themes (suspension, stasis, indecision, fear of being lost, grieving, surrendering to the will of nature, being a fixed point in a broken group, being tethered together or untethered, things happening in reverse, being upside-down, being consumed, yadda yadda), I think the first scenes that popped into my head as visuals before I got writing were 1) Nicolo standing in the valley and catching a flake of ash in the air. 2) Yusuf and/or Nicolo in a hot spring. 3) Larus' frozen lambs. 4) The argument between Andromache and Nicolo, but no dialogue yet.

I know I wanted to write something sort of dream-like, that dipped in and out of flashbacks and liminal states, and I'm genuinely proud of myself for seeing it through. The last school year I had was intense to say the least, and there was a long stretch of time where I just left this fic as one scene and a bunch of nonsensical notes. Then, being real transparent here, a couple different tragedies happened one right after the other, and I just opened the doc again. I think my nana dying slowly had a lot to do with the direction my writing took. Thoughts, feelings, general atmosphere from real life creeps into my writing every time, and often I don't even notice until the project is done and I've read it a few times.

Anyway, I'm WAY overselling this fic dfgfds. It just means a whole lot to me and I know you can tell, so I appreciate you asking about it <3 Hope you have a fantastic day. Sending love and hugs <333

A bonus angsty snippet that didn't make it into the final work, just for you <3

It happens like this sometimes: Yusuf begins. “What if we never found you?” “You did.” “But what if. Just humour me for a moment.” You do. You love this man, so you do. “I wasn’t fast enough, and you slipped. I didn’t grab you. I didn’t even pull you from the water.” “You know it is not your fault.” “Andi didn’t— you didn’t see. I tried to jump in after you—” “And you would have been lost, too.” “No, I would have gotten you back.” There is no way to prove this. Nothing is certain. It already happened. You’re going around in circles. Yusuf says again, in a whisper, “What if we never found you?” You’re finding it hard to speak. To say anything in this moment. Yusuf presses his hands over his mouth, but it does nothing to contain his stilted gasps. He presses his words against his palms, but you hear them clear as ice: “What if we never find her?”

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[swaps55]

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks: ✨🌿💞 💥💌

Oooh, a bunch!! Thank you!!

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

Of the multi-chaptered fics in Opus, Concerto has “performed” the poorest. Cantata, Sonata, and Fugue still regularly pick up occasional Kudos (well, Fugue does because it’s active), but Concerto doesn’t. I honestly can’t complain, but there were some things in that fic that I am very proud of/fond of, and given it is the ONLY fic in that series so far that actually takes place during a game timeline, there is a part of me that is VERY nervous that I’ll only be successful filling in the blank canvas around the games, not working within the existing framework.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Incredible. I currently do not have many physical hobbies that I can hold in my hands (something I really need to change), so writing is a thing I can look at and still feel a tangible sort of accomplishment, even it is isn’t technically…tangible. If that makes any sense.

💞what’s the most important part of a story for you? The plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

The characters. The characters drive so much. They are what make the pieces connect and fall into place, sometimes in ways I’d hoped for or wanted, others in ways that I never expected.

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

According to Ao3, it’s ‘Scars,’ which is literally the first fic I ever posted on Ao3. I wrote it for a friend I played multi with, as a thank you for all the times he revived me. XD It’s a gen story about Jack centered around her loyalty mission, and while I think I have come a long way since writing that fic, the opening line still slays:

The universe as she had known it began and ended with the same four gray walls and a window that looked down on a world loath to her existence.

And there is a moment of connection between her and Shepard near the end that still feels powerful.  

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I have already mentioned how excited I am about Mezzo, so another piece about Mezzo I am really looking forward to is actually getting to write about Sam and Garrus, and watching their friendship develop. For as important and powerful as that friendship is in my head, I haven’t had the chance to write about it at ALL in Opus canon, and have hardly had much of a chance to write Garrus, period.

This poor, confused turian who cannot figure out how to keep this vexing human from falling over all the time is going to be SO much fun.

[pdamndiabolical]

commiseration, not advice: i think the struggle regarding fanfic and plot is that, even more than in regular fiction writing, you start out with a fully-formed idea and interpretation that's really interesting and exciting and important to you and that doesn't really REQUIRE you to write a plot to express it - or any fiction at all! fiction is just what makes it tangible.

so it's essentially a matter of delayed gratification to go, ok, how can i write AROUND this idea? what if i absolutely COULDN'T give it to you straight, through narration or dialogue, at least not until it's hanging so heavy in the air that the thread's just begging to be cut? how does it materially manifest in the world if i can't just come out and say it? only then does writing plot, imagery, setting become necessary and exciting to me.

of course the fact of the matter is that usually this writing-around-the-point is what CANON is doing, intentionally or not, which only heightens the urge to get it all out there. this is the perspective that imo perfectly justifies analysis-based fic writing, after all it's always gonna be a paratext situation. but i do think think you've been "materialising" your internal character stuff, and i honestly think developing that sensibility is enough to lead to plotting abilities.

the alternate direction is to think of events and settings FIRST and then see what themes and ideas you can find in them, and i think that's more common for original fiction, but for me that only happens if i'm applying a framework i already know, like oh, time travel au, wrestling au, i know what's in there, i only have to see how it interacts with the characters. but then it usually ends up with too big a scope for me to ever realistically write it at all lol

True I guess in some ways a plot for fanfic is vestigial, depending on what you want for you and your audience. And with the last thing you said there, I’m always compelled by emotion or theme first and then aesthetics and location and plot second. So far at least. It could change if I wrote more than a couple times a year, lol

For me I was enjoying writing but wanted to tell a story where the story was more than internal and small scale interpersonal. All of my early one-shots are like “two people talk in a room”, “two people argue on a rooftop”, “two people argue in an alleyway” etc. I’m proud of all of those and I think they’re satisfying enough for both me and my audience but I wanted to do more. So it becomes “two people are separated into a parallel dimension and have to find each other, and they have to try to resolve the conflict between their mirror selves, and they have to figure out how to get home, and to do this they have to figure out the why and who of how they got sent there” which is about 1000x more challenging and not inherently more fun to write. In fact it’s less satisfying cause I can’t just write 3k words then post it lol. I kind of miss it being just dense psychoanalytical stuff BUT it’s like a sandwich where the bread is plot and all the toppings are emotion and theme and character analysis, and it’s so long it becomes like a scooby doo sandwich, even if I never write a fic like this again it’s pretty satisfying for me at least. Story, feelings, story, theme, story, etc, feels more watered down in some ways vs turbo dense psychoanalytical prose but I’m getting better at it and it’s fun to weave in and out and ideally build to something REALLY big.

I’ve been listening to the audiobook for Wired for Story and while a lot of it is borderline cringey and I’d even call some of it anti-intellectual (there is this whole segment where she just shits on any experimental art and talks about how nobody could ever like reading Ulysses(????)) it’s making me think a lot more about plot and character supporting each other as a more cohesive whole. As a neurotic who is very self-critical about making every word and moment in a story count that stuff is fun to think about for me

Thanks for such a thoughtful ask and for indulging me asking about big brain writing stuff!!

[andsheloved]

(fall)ing for you

pairing ~ bucky barnes x gn!reader

summary ~ spending a halloween date with bucky barnes!

word count ~ 1.4k

warnings ~ fluff! stereotypical halloween/fall celebration things, pre-established relationship, bucky being a dork, vague descriptions of a haunted house (a clown jumps out at some point but nothing too spooky, i just wanted to make sure i tag it just in case!), mention of (fake!) skulls and bones

a/n ~ so, i moved to a new area a while ago and there is an absolute disturbing lack of halloween things, coming from an area that celebrates halloween and general fall-exciting-times like crazy, i am talking EVERYONE has pumpkins out, corn mazes and haunted houses wherever you step, specialty drinks and foods for halloween and fall at all the local places, i very much find the lack of the fall/halloween spirit disturbing, SO i decided, why not do some fun headcanons about a lil halloween date to fill the pumpkin shaped hole in my heart! i hope you all enjoy this lil dash of fall fluffy goodness! mwauh!

It definitely is not his idea to go all out with celebrating Halloween, in fact, he can’t even really remember the last time he put out any type of decoration. Maybe before… everything, he might have seen his mom put a pumpkin or two out on his front porch in October, but he never actually did anything for Halloween. So when you brought up going to a fall festival, he was a bit, confused, to say the least.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

I mean, how could he ever say no to you when you smiled at him like that.

Though he can’t quite wrap his head around what ‘it’ is.

But you two set a date for it anyway, even though he kind of has absolutely no clue what he’s getting himself into, and that fact alone makes him a bit nervous, being honest with himself, he’s pretty sure he would follow you anywhere, regardless of whether he knew where he was going or not.

When he picks you up for your little fall soiree, he doesn’t bring flowers, oh no, he decides to go with the theme.

Bucky shows up at your front door with a tiny bouquet of the most vivid, colorful bunch of fall foliage you have ever seen. All wrapped together tightly with some twine that you can tell must have taken him ages to tie together.

“Happy Fall, Doll”

He looks up at you from the bouquet with the biggest, almost annoyingly proud grin on his face, holding out the (can he even call it a bouquet? It’s just leaves? Okay well he’s going to call it a bouquet) bouquet to you.

It’s the type of smile a child gives their teacher when they’re presenting a science project.

But gosh, what you wouldn’t give to just have him stay just right there while you grab your camera to take a photo of him.

When you finally get to the festival, the sun is just beginning to set, and the sky looks like something out of a postcard. It is absolutely perfect fall weather, if not a bit chilly, but you learn you don’t actually mind the cold all that much when Bucky throws his jacket around you.

And he really doesn’t mind the way you look in it. He figures that even if he were freezing to death, he would still let you wear it.

You couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit silly wearing it. You can tell it was modified a bit to fit, well, you know, a highly trained super-soldier and former assassin, but you can’t really bring yourself to care when you’re surrounded by the warmth of him, and the tangible reminder that he’s yours, just as much as you’re his.

Pumpkin picking! He couldn’t lie, he did think it was a little stupid at first, “Why would I go try to find a pumpkin, covered in dirt, when I can go into any craft store and find a perfect, plastic one of my own there?” But about three minutes into your search, you notice he is now fully inspecting each pumpkin you point at.

He is picking each one up, testing the weight of each one, holding them and handling them with the utmost care, brushing off any extra bit of mud or hay, fully scanning every inch of it for any moldy spots or bruises. He is very, very serious about it now.

“What about this one?!” You point at what you believe to be the most faultless Pumpkin you have ever seen, even when you pick it up, you think it looks absolutely perfect.

Bucky thinks otherwise.

“Look at it! It’s all lopsided! And it’s all green and black on the bottom!” You gasp a little when he takes it from you, tossing it lightly up into the air. “See! Baby, it’s not even weighted properly! You don’t want it rolling around your front porch every time some wind rolls by.” He hands the pumpkin back to you, only to grab another one from the ground, holding it barely an inch from your face for you to see. “Now this one, this one is perfect. I mean look at it!”

You can’t deny that his is absolutely the most perfect pumpkin you have ever seen, like something out of a Homes and Gardens magazine. Not a single brown spot or any speck of dirt, and as he throws it just as he did the last pumpkin, you notice the almost blinding glint in his eye as he sighs dreamily “It’s perfect.”

You didn’t know anyone could look at a pumpkin with so much love, and even though you did see a bit of bruising on the pumpkin yourself, maybe it was the fact that he loved it so much that made it so perfect.

Guess that makes you pretty perfect too.

“Well, I guess that’s the one!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but smile at the excited gasp that escapes his lips. You almost tumble into the dirt with the force at which he kisses you.

Maybe you should take him to pumpkin patches more often.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats, making sure to place gentle kisses all along your cheeks and on the tip of your nose.

When it gets a bit darker, and a bit ~spookier~, you notice he tenses up just a little.

“Hey, are you doing alright? You know we don’t have to go through the haunted hou-”

“Are you crazy! We are doing the haunted house, I’m sure it’s not even really that scary anyway…:

You look at him for a bit longer after he responds, making sure that he’s not just saying that to say it.

But he smiles at you and squeezes your hand like he can read your mind.

So you two set off towards the haunted house.

The facade is a little cheesy; a massive cutout made from flimsy wood panels, secured to what looks to be a massive tent, shaped to look like an eerie castle, with a faint strobe light flashing up at it. For a moment you think to yourself how Bucky is probably right ‘I’m sure it’s not even really that scary anyway…’ But as soon as you step inside, you realize you couldn’t be more wrong.

You glare up at Bucky as he holds you securely in front of him, “Doll, how am I supposed to protect you if you’re behind me” He winks, and you grumble something to yourself about ‘stupidmanhandlingsupersoilders’

But as a man in a clown mask jumps out at the two of you, forcing you to press further against Bucky’s chest, you’re suddenly very thankful for your personal man handling super-soldier.

You couldn’t really say you paid any attention to the rest of the house, focusing on looking straight ahead and straight ahead only as you placed your hands over Bucky's around your waist. His low chuckle brought you just the slightest bit of comfort every time an actor popped out from a window or hidden door.

“You’re okay Doll, look! They’re not even real!”

You slowly gathered the courage to look around you, turning your head to see some very obviously plastic skulls and bones surrounding you in the fake graveyard.

You could almost roll your eyes at yourself, this is what you were afraid of? Some styrofoam bones? You found yourself giggling at the thought

“See? I told you it wasn’t that bad” He added, squeezing his arms around you a little tighter.

The two of you walked through the rest of the house like that, laughing at the almost hilariously unrealistic props, pointing out where you thought someone would be jumping out at you, it almost became a game.

“What did I say! I told you it wasn’t gonna be that scary!”

You wished you could wipe the wicked smirk from his face, “I was terrified!”

“You had fun!”

“Yeah, but I was terrified!”

“Weren’t you the one asking me if I even wanted to go through it?”

If you weren’t so exhausted from attempting to contain yourself from bolting through the house as fast as you could, you would’ve kissed that stupid knowing smile off his lips.

Well, maybe you weren’t that tired.

When you two finally got back to your apartment, Bucky suddenly stopped in front of your doorstep.

“Is everything oka-”

In an instant, he was running back to the car with a speed you don’t ever think you have seen him sprint at before.

You squinted to see what he was digging for

But then he ducked his head out of the back seat, holding triumphantly, the pumpkin.

“Almost forgot,” he said, returning to place it ever so gently beside your front door, “Perfect” he sighed.

“Yeah” You replied, leaning your head against his shoulder as you turned to look up at him, “Just perfect."

thank you so so much for reading! i really do appreciate it! want more bucky? check out my masterlist ! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! bucky + autumn is just, mm, so good! my heart is warm! anyways, i hope you are all doing so very well! mwauh! and happy fall (and halloween if you celebrate) to you all! i hope it is filled with all the happiness and warmth you could ever ask for!

[nekropsii]

Which character arc in sovereignstuck you worked on/wrote are you most proud of? Which of the other writers arcs are you most excited for ??

Oh, god. This is such a hard question. Some of this shit gets positively thespian. Going to try to avoid overt spoilers as best as I can.

Content Warning: Long.

As far as myself goes… Kankri’s growth has given many issues. He’s not that difficult to write, per se, and it’s not like writing him isn’t fun. He’s just hard to get a good angle with. Character arcs have an angle. There’s no improvement without there being some kind of focus to that arc of improvement. If something is to be fixed, you need to know what there is to fix, and how. What’s the root of the issue, and how do you address it without unintentionally making it worse?

It took fucking ages to find a good angle with Kankri, and when we did find it, it was through an offhand joke. Emotional attachment skyrocketed with it, though, and I personally find it to be a highly satisfying arc. I’m definitely proud of my other work with character arcs, but Kankri’s is the first one to come to mind, and it’s absolutely the most dramatic change I’ve written. As I said earlier, though, it’s genuinely hard to pick a favorite.

As far as arcs from the other writers go…

Emeric’s character arc is genuinely fascinating to me. I’m so fucking excited to see it written out fully. Emeric is such a fascinating character, and it’s really, really satisfying seeing a Bard not get defaulted to a villain role. She’s incredibly complex, and incredibly fun to watch. She’s one of those characters where you think she’d get shafted as pure comic relief, but she’s so much more than that, and I love her. Her battle with herself is one of those that those who have felt neglect can really relate to. Her struggle is a brutal one. Every moment she’s alive, she’s fighting for something, and her efforts are felt. (@unexiled)

Tejuri’s arc is dramatic in ways we never thought it’d be. She starts as an awkward, nerdy, southern troll-Catholic girl with very little self confidence, and the way SVURB makes her confront and challenge herself really makes her blossom into a complete badass, weaponizing other people’s belief in her and her friends in an absolutely catastrophic way. She deserves every victory she gets, and I feel like her humble, clumsy beginnings as a character really help you feel like she’s someone you would have been best friends with in high school. She’s a character where you don’t realize how much you believe in her until you’re actively cheering for her, it’s amazing. She’s a true Rogue of Hope. (@scalematez)

Meenah’s growth as a character and as a person within Sovereignstuck is one that I hope invigorates others just as much as it does me. She’s someone who’s slowly come to realize just how much hurt she’s caused, but she’s so deep in her routines that being a good person is something she has to fight tooth and nail for. She fucks up constantly, but she really is trying, and it honestly hurts to see her fail. She’s battling with the fact that just because she’s trying to be better doesn’t mean people will forgive her for the past. She’s built to hurt people, and she knows she is, she truly believes so, but the blood on her hands is starting to sting. She’s done so much damage in the past, and yet seeing her hurt isn’t even satisfying. Improvement really is Sisyphean sometimes. (@octopeixes)

Kausat’s arc is quiet. At least at first. Most of those who are Voidbound don’t tend to have a very loud, dramatic arc. But you don’t need to be flashy to be interesting, do you? Their story is one of growing into who they are- watching how his arc ties into his status as both a Seer of Life and a Seer of Void is really interesting. Change is an inevitable force of nature. It’s what makes things a tangible concept. Sometimes change is unexpected- mysterious, unexplainable, intangible. Sometimes it’s slow, like the growth of a tree, the decomposition of a body, and sometimes it’s dramatic- lightning striking the tallest construct it can find, an explosion in a lake, so on and so forth. Life, and living, is about change, and acceptance of that change, even if you don’t understand it. It’s the only way to survive. It’s quite an intimate topic, honestly, but rather fun to pick apart. (@santostrife)

[weirdlittlecorner]

Lin Kuei Hospitality: Sektor

Notes: nsfw, 18+, rough, dominant MC

Plot: Sektor gets on a lot of people's nerves. Nothing a little cloth can't fix

Tags: @lilliannmac @onesillybeach @icy-spicy

__

It was an easy choice. Once the Grandmaster had given you the go-ahead to pick your gift, your eyes instantly settled on the most curious of the men. The one who took to copying the monarch himself. You were attracted to that long, black hair and the bulging muscles. But what really solidified your choice was that face of his. Or, rather, the expression on it. The other men had kept their expressions neutral, their gazes fixated ahead of them as you made your rounds. But when you had passed over the man in red, he took it as an invitation to conduct an exam of his own. His brown eyes trailed you when you came near as if you were a gift for him. And that tiny smirk that he gave you didn’t help his case, either.

A spark of feistiness flared within you as you returned the judgemental gaze, “I suppose you’ll do,” You snapped.

The tension in the room was tangible. The others were amused by your standoff with who you would soon come to find out was the spoiled brat of the clan. Your target huffed, turning toward the Grandmaster as if seeking assistance. But he was only met with a stern warning from the older man, “Miss L/n is our guest. You will not disappoint me, Sektor,”

It was hard to keep a straight face as the overgrown child- Sektor- crumbled under the Grandmaster’s words, “Of course not, Father,” Father? It all made sense now. The similar clothing, and more notably, the arrogance. Being the child of the closest thing to royalty would surely go to anyone’s head. He clearly had some sort of attitude problem and needed a lesson in humility. You would happily oblige.

After the impromptu scolding, the younger man turned his attention back to you. Without another complaint, he separated from his fellow assassins in favor of following you out of the throne room.

--

“You’re getting on my nerves already. I’d like you better if you just shut your mouth,” You snapped, your teeth grinding in annoyance. In the span of ten minutes, Sektor had already managed to push all your buttons. And not in a good way.

“I will do nothing of the sort,” He snapped back without hesitation. You were starting to question your decision and wondered if it was too late to exchange the man. No, you couldn’t do that, as you didn’t want to look ungrateful. Especially not when it was the Grandmaster’s own son. This was a strange situation already; it would be best not to make it worse.

So you settled on one more attempt at reasoning with the clan’s golden child, “Try. It might do you some good,” This was supposed to be pleasurable for you, after all. It was silent for a moment, and you grew smug at the fact that the man hadn’t been able to come up with a witty response. But while you did expect some type of attitude, you hadn’t expected what the man in question actually said next.

“Make me.”

Wait-... What? That took you aback, and your resolve momentarily crumbled as you looked at him. And he looked dead serious, too...

Well, you had promised yourself that you would correct that attitude of his.

Positioning yourself behind him, you untied the f/c sash that secured your tunic, “What are you-” But you had already placed the fabric over his mouth, tying it securely at the back of his head. That was much better. He grew sexier now that he was silent. Now that you didn’t have to listen to his sarcastic droning, you could actually get on to using your present. Proud of your work, you walked back around to face the man.

Upon feeling your form looming over him, Sektor sunk down to his knees, hands clasped behind his back. A h/c brow arched in surprise, but soon your expression turned to one of mischief. He must’ve been partial to being submissive. The thought intrigued you, to say the least. While having been on top a few times in previous experiences, you had never actually dominated your partner. But what better time to try it out than now? Especially on someone as arrogant as the Grandmaster’s son. He needed to be taken down a notch. Or two.

“You like it when a woman is in control, don’t you?” You asked rhetorically, to which he nodded, his brown eyes boring into your e/c ones. There was no question that you could have some fun with this. Taking hold of the red sash on his uniform, you snatched it off of his waist before making your way to his backside once more. With a fluid motion, you looped it around his wrists twice before tying it. He flexed his forearms in response, testing the resistance of his bondage, to which you clucked, “You’re not escaping that easily,” Though you had tied it gently enough for him to break free should he need to. But for all intents and purposes, he was helpless. Completely at your disposal. Ready for anything and everything you had in mind.

The raw, devious power surged through you so beautifully. And submissiveness looked equally enticing on Sektor. Since he was incapacitated, you took the liberty of peeling off his armor for him. It took a bit longer than you had expected to get through all of the various knots and clasps, but that was no problem. Every second was blissful agony for the man who was trapped under your touch. But eventually, your gift was unwrapped, save for his ivory undergarments. By the tenting in the fabric, he was already ready for you. But there would be none of that. Not anytime soon, anyway.

A maniacal giggle made its way past your lips as you reached around his head. With a loud snap, the red tie that was holding his long hair in place was between your fingers. You waved it in front of him teasingly before pushing the loose hair out of his eyes, “Lay down,” Your voice was a soft, but harsh whisper.

At your command, the Grandmaster’s son swung his knees out from under him and lowered his muscular back onto the cold marble floor. He winced as the cold penetrated his skin, but he made no effort to get up. Not when he was consumed by the overwhelming desire to be obedient for his mistress. Who, had he been able to speak, would have been showered in praises. You were easily one of the most beautiful women he had bedded. Being the chosen child had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks; one being that he could never explore his desire for domination. It would be too embarrassing if he, the next Grandmaster, were found under a woman. Or, one of the Lin Kuei women, anyway. But you were an outsider. Someone who passed through twice a year at most. There was no shame in this. Only pleasure as you stripped down to your f/c undergarments, taking care to leave your boots on. It fit the aesthetic, after all.

“You have a sharp tongue for someone who’s supposed to be a disciplined assassin,” You chided, your hands positioning themselves on your hips as you stood over him, your boots dangerously close to his face, “But you know what? I think we can put it to better use,” Sektor didn’t have time to consider your words before you unceremoniously squatted, the satin fabric of your underwear meeting the resistant cloth of your makeshift gag.

With an exaggerated sigh, you settled in on your new chair, your boots resting easily on either side of his head. This was much better. No noise and the pleasure of having your sex serviced. Well, not so much the second part as Sektor had a gag in place that prevented the latter. Though you did have to say that seeing him grow frustrated at his bondage was pleasurable in its own right. You sat like this for a few moments, basking in the feeling of control, until you felt a small vibration against your clothed sex.

“What was that? ‘Take the gag off’? And my panties?” You repeated, to which he nodded desperately. Another triumphant laugh rippled through your chest. As if you would give the spoiled brat what he wanted. That would be counterintuitive on your part. E/c irises clouded over as you looked down at your whining subject, “No. You haven’t earned the right to taste me,”

But that didn’t stop him from trying, much to your amusement. Sektor continued to strain against the gag, trying to do something; anything. His full beard provided some nice friction though, and you almost considered giving in and letting him eat you out. Almost, “Now look at me,” A s/c hand reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to give you his undivided attention. His dark pupils dilated in excitement at your roughness, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” You cooed, being rewarded by another needy jerk of his head.

“Good,” H/t, h/c locks bobbed as you nodded your head in satisfaction. In fact, you were so pleased with his broken obedience that you resumed a squatting position, taking the weight off of his face momentarily. You reached down and pulled the gag free, letting it bunch around his neck instead. Sektor was only allowed a second to breathe through his mouth before your sex pressed against it once more.

But there were no complaints from the brat, only gratitude as his tongue traced the outline of your folds, “Thank you, Mistress L/n,” He mumbled as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You sighed, rocking your hips a bit to catch some of the friction from his beard scratching your thighs.

This felt very, very good. So good that you almost considered dropping your facade and letting yourself fully enjoy the man’s mouth. But where was the fun in that? As far as you were concerned, he was still a jerk. A whiny, beautifully submissive, brat that still hadn’t learned his lesson. Tucking your knees to your chest, you pulled yourself into a standing position, much to the disappointment of your submissive.

“Aw, don’t pout. I don’t like pouting,” Your stern voice commanded, causing Sektor to amend his expression immediately. Basking in the high of your authority, you shifted your attention to his lower half. Saying that the man was weeping for attention was an understatement as you rubbed his aching erection through the cloth. Curious, you bent over and removed his hard length from his undershorts. You gave him a sly smile as your nimble fingers worked him, “I’m surprised that you’ve actually managed to impress me,” He merely moaned in response as your stroking got faster, “Please,” His voice, hoarse from the gag, pleaded for your audience, “Please ride my cock, Mistress. I want to make you cum,” He begged while you pursed your lips, considering the proposition.

The ache in your stomach had only grown more prominent throughout your teasing. And coupled with the stimulation from Sektor’s mouth, you were beyond wet enough for intercourse. Sighing, “Very well. You’ve been a good boy so far,” Your hand ceased its movement in favor of hooking itself inside your panties along with the other. Straightening up, you pulled the silk down, stepping out of the garment to free your ankles, “I’ll give you what you want; on one condition. No thrusting,” He gave a weak nod in agreement.

Satisfied with his obedience once more, you allowed yourself to squat over him, this time over his erect dick. Once he was lined up, you began sinking down, allowing him to enter you at the most agonizingly slow rate. Only when you were comfortable did you begin moving. And it felt damn good. Overcome with desire, you allowed yourself to ride him at an excruciating pace, momentarily forgetting your cool, stone demeanor. A moan akin to a wind-chime clawed its way out of your throat as your hand found its way to your clit. You rubbed furiously while your other hand tangled itself in that long black hair, tugging it roughly. He let out a guttural sound at the lovely pain you were causing him, but he kept his promise of not thrusting into you despite an overwhelming desire to. Though that didn’t stop you from eventually changing your own rule, overcome by the pleasure.

“Fuck me. Make me cum,” You demanded, amending your previous instruction. Sektor knew better than to question your orders, his only focus on doing just what you had asked. He was able to flip you over with his strong hips despite his hands still being tied behind his back. Once you were comfortable, he wasted no time snapping his hips into yours as fast as he could. His pace was relentless, causing your toes to curl and stars to enter your vision as he rubbed against your precious spot. Your fingers bunched his loose hair up, pulling as hard as humanly possible as you met an intense climax. Shaking, your breathing grew even more ragged as the heat ravished your body. All of your neurons felt as if they were on fire as you came.

His hips slowed as the last of your orgasm made its way through you, stopping once your hand detangled itself from his black locks and fell limp across your ribs. With a tired smile, your eyes focused on him once more, “I will let you cum as a reward for being obedient,” Just not inside of you. He wasn’t that good. But he was excited nonetheless. Proud that he had lived up to your expectations. His cock exited your trembling pussy, saturated in your orgasm. When your breathing eventually slowed, you slowly shifted to sit on your knees, your hand replacing itself on his shaft.

Your hand stroked him as fast as you could manage while he whimpered in pleasure. It didn’t take long before his seed erupted from the tip of his cock, effectively coating your hand and splattering on his abs. Looking down at the mess, Sektor grew sheepish as the post-orgasm clarity seeped in. You had definitely shown him; maybe he should learn to be more humble. Or maybe he would be just as much of an asshole the next time you visited so you could teach him another lesson, “Thank you,” He managed to get out once he caught his breath.

You hated to say it, but Sektor had been right. He sure didn’t disappoint the Grandmaster.

“You’re welcome. Now go get a towel so you can clean up your mess.”

[amanda-teaches]

Secrets and Lights

Summary: Hiding your relationship with Dean has gotten harder the deeper you fall for him. The coming Christmas seems to be your hardest test yet, but will it turn into something so much more than you were expecting?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Secret Relationship for @spnchristmasbingo​

Word Count: 1978

Warnings: sexual suggestiveness, a whole lot of fluff

A/N: This was written for @carryonmywaywardcaptain​‘s Supernaturally Marvelous Challenge, and my prompt was Christmas Lights.

Hiding a relationship wasn’t easy, but boy was it fun, especially with Dean.

It was the ultimate adrenaline high. Stealing kisses in cloaked corners, sneaking through hallways in the middle of the night, dropping to your knees in the shower when Sam popped his head in unexpectedly. It felt dangerous and forbidden, which made every touch that much hotter. And, that’s really all it had started out as- heat. 

Your relationship had begun under the height of the summer sun, something purely physical, a way to burn off steam for the both of you, an accidental tumble into bed that had ignited into a series of passionate rendezvous. You and Dean hadn’t seen a reason to tell anybody, not when the entirety of your relationship was built off of lips, hands, and...other body parts.

But, the colder weather brought change and an altogether different kind of heat. There were fewer quickies in the Impala and more nights spent in each other’s arms. Fewer furtive glances and more lingering touches. There were nights you stayed up until the early morning just talking, trading the sex for the chance to just listen to him breathe, tracing circles on his chest as he whispered his most personal stories in your ear. The heat between you became deep, it became real, and you knew without a doubt that you were falling in love with him.

That only made it that much harder to keep your relationship a secret. Now, things were different. Now, more than anything else, you didn’t want to hide him. You wanted to show him off, to tell the world, but you couldn’t. That wasn’t what you had agreed, so you kept it a secret because that’s what Dean wanted.

At least that’s what you thought. Little did you know that Dean had something far different in mind, and his plans were already in motion. 

It all came to a head on Christmas. You’d assumed you were going to spend a quiet holiday at home with Sam, Jack, and Cas, but Dean surprised you last minute, telling you to pack your bags for a big family Christmas at Jody’s.

When you got there, he went into full nesting mode, helping the girls trim the tree, secretly tossing a wink your way every time the others were distracted. You smiled back, but inside you were coming unglued. You wanted to stand up, march over there, and kiss him in front of everyone, proud of the fact that the most amazing guy in the world had picked you, but you couldn’t. It was frustrating and exhausting and, frankly, the weight of the secret was just giving you a damn headache. After an hour of trying, and almost failing, to resist the way he pulled you to him like a magnet, you decided to get out of there, feigning sudden fatigue and excusing yourself to go upstairs.

Not surprisingly, that didn’t fool Dean for a second, and he caught up to you before you even reached the hallway. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, plastering the smile back onto your face, although it was softer this time, more muted. “Just tired from the drive, I think.”

Dean cast a glance over his shoulder, checking the hallway before grabbing your hand and pulling you with him through the closest door. You barely had time to register that it was the laundry room before your back was up against the wall, Dean’s knee between your legs and his lips dragging across your throat. “I can think of a few ways to wake you up.”

You shivered at the low growl that rumbled against your pulse point before you remembered where you were, and why you’d left the living room in the first place. “Dean, we can’t, remember? Everyone’s here.”

He ran his hand up under your shirt, splaying it across your stomach. “So?”

“So,” you laughed, playfully pushing him off you before his hand could start to wander, “you’re bunking with Sam and I’m with Donna. This house is filled with people, and anyone could walk in. We have to be careful.”

His face turned into the most comical pout, and you couldn’t resist sneaking a quick peck to his lips. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come for Christmas, and since we can’t tell anyone about us…”

You trailed off, a hidden part of you hoping Dean would say screw it, let’s tell everyone, but he nodded instead, your heart falling a little in response.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ll be careful.” He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You should get some rest. I’ll see you at dinner?”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest for a moment to savor the peace you found there. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you, pulling you in, and instantly soothing you, reminding you of just how you’d managed to fall so hard for him so easily. He made you feel wanted, and when you were in his arms, you were home. “Hey, maybe later, we could sneak away...I bet the Impala feels real cozy in the snow.”

His chuckle rumbled against your chest. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that. But, after you rest.”

“Aye, aye,” you joked, pulling away and turning towards the door. You paused before you reached the threshold, turning back and meeting his eyes. “Thanks for checking on me.”

His smile lit up his face, crinkling his eyes as it expanded. “I got you.”

“I got you,” you echoed, repeating the phrase that had become a familiar mantra for the two of you the last few months. “I…” You almost slipped up, almost said the three words you hadn’t quite gotten up the courage to utter yet. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The next few hours were filled with a lot more staring off into space than sleeping, but darkness eventually fell, and you got a quick change of clothes before heading downstairs for dinner.

The living room, freshly decorated with a sparkling tree loaded with presents, was deserted, so you made your way into the kitchen where you found Sam, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Jack, Cas, and Patience all gathered around the island.

They looked your way when you entered, Jody shooting you a smile. “Hey there, Y/N. You want to help us decorate some cookies before dinner?”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered absentmindedly as you scanned the room. “Where’s Dean?”

Donna exchanged a look with Sam and grinned. “Oh, I think he’s outside. Would you mind getting him?”

Nodding, you spun towards the door leading to the backyard. “Yeah, sure.”

You moved to open it on autopilot, your mind already on the alone time with Dean that awaited you later that night, but once the door swung open, every tangible thought flew right out of your brain to be replaced with what could only be described as shocked buffering.

It was an honest to goodness winter wonderland. A forest of Christmas trees were strewn across the yard, with dazzling lights strung through every branch, twinkling and shining onto the soft white snow beneath. As you looked closer at the trees, you began to notice the ornaments hanging on each one: a tiny waffle, you quickly realized was the breakfast you and Dean had made a complete mess of trying to make that weekend Sam was out of town; a cup of tea, which Dean had quickly learned to make to perfection that time you came down with the flu; a pool ball, complete with a tiny scratch on it, just like the one you’d launched across the room when Dean had tried, and failed, to teach you how to play.

There were dozens more spread amongst the trees, all different memories of your relationship with Dean, all moments that had led the two of you to each other.

“You know that pool ball’s my favorite.” You turned at the sound of Dean’s voice, watching him approach you from where he’d been waiting within the trees. “I think that was the day I knew I wanted us to be more than friends.”

“Dean, wait, we can’t,” you rushed out, trying to signal him by gesturing back at the house behind you, but when you turned your head, you saw everyone already watching you, their faces plastered up against the windows.

Dean didn’t seem fazed, continuing to advance towards you. “I lined up the shot for you, thinking you’d just tap it into the rail, but you shot it across the room, up into the wall ten feet away.” He paused and laughed. “I didn’t even know it was possible to scratch a pool ball, but you did. And, the only thing I could think was damn, somehow this girl can make even that look sexy.”

That night, with the pool ball, it was over a year ago, long before you’d gotten together. He must’ve been misremembering. He couldn’t have known then... “Dean, everyone’s watching. They might find out…”

He kissed you before you could finish your thought, zapping the frenzy right out of you and silencing all of your worries with one touch. When he pulled back, he only left a few inches of space between the two of you, his gaze dropping to your lips and then slowly travelling up your face like a caress. “I told everyone about us a month ago, back when I first started planning tonight.”

It took a second for his words to register, and when they did, the realization hit you like a truck. “Wait, they know?! They all know? But, I thought…”

“I know, you thought I wanted to keep us a secret, but I don’t. I’m crazy about you, of course I wanted to tell the world that you’re mine, that I’m lucky enough to get to hold your hand every single day. Besides, I needed their help to plan this whole thing. You know, it’s not as easy to tell a girl you love her as you might think, but Donna and Jody are pretty great with the big gestures. I was coming up empty on any kind of plan until they helped me come up with this whole thing.”

“But, wait, if they’ve known for a month…” And, that’s when it hit you again, the moment you really froze, his words sinking in to leave you speechless for the third time in five minutes. “D...did you just say you love me?”

Dean nodded, grabbing your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours, his eyes shining only for you. His voice was confident and sure, ringing out for the world to hear. “I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you. The luckiest day of my life was when I somehow got you to want me back. I know we didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, but I need you to know. I’m all in, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way yet, but…”

“I love you too.” You rushed the words out, so excited you couldn’t even wait for him to finish. “I’m sorry, I know you probably had this whole speech planned, but I do, Dean. I love you.”

You could hear clapping and cheering behind you as he grinned and pulled you in, but it all faded out the moment his lips touched yours, his kiss making the whole word come to a stop for just a minute.

By the time the world started spinning again, it had started to snow, and everyone rushed out with a flurry of congratulations and hugs. You celebrated with them, but Dean never let go of your hand, holding it proudly and tenderly for everyone to see, the gesture radiating with the only thing bright enough to outshine all of the Christmas lights surrounding you: your love.