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violetsaffron5 · 1 year ago

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NSFW Gojo Week (1)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

A night off work leads you and your work crush to finally meet up for a steamy rendezvous

cw: exhibitionism, light degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, facial

words: 1.7k

Masterlist • Day 2

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Tumblr - Link to all 2023 Gojo NSFW Week works!

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CuriousCat - For any questions you may have!

As a sorcerer, you don’t get many nights off, nights to do whatever you please without a care in the world.

Tonight is one of those nights. The lights of the small club you’re in flash green, red, purple, and blue all around you. Shoko wanted to use the opportunity to go out, have some fun, and relieve some stress, so she invited you, Utahime, and Satoru, and even got Nanami to come along.

It’s been busy for everyone the last several months. Fighting curses, and spending time healing; Shoko having a multitude of sorcerers to care for, along with surgeries.

The bass of the music vibrates from the soles of your feet through every hair follicle at the top of your head, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body as red, green, purple, and blue lights flash over your face, through the sea of people dancing.

You’re dancing with Satoru; he has one of his large hands splayed on your exposed stomach, just under your crop top while his other rests at your hip while you press your ass into him.

You might have a little, teeny, tiny work crush on him, and you’re pretty sure he has one on you too. He’s never been one to hide how he feels, but he’s also flirty with everyone, including Nanami, so it’s hard to really know.

Either that or he just really wants to fuck you.

Your hand is wrapped around his neck, nails scratching at his undercut as you move your hips together. And judging by the way Satoru’s dancing with you, the rumors must be true.

Of course, you’ve heard them, everyone has.

Gojo fucks so good, it’s actually insane.

I’ve never cum so many times in my life, and that tongue, oh my god.

He has the biggest dick I have ever seen… I should call him again, actually.

The two of you have had some… tense moments, to say the least. A few flirty grins here in there that have been met with your lips ghosting one another on several occasions.

But each time it has been met with an interruption. Someone walking into the room looking for one of you, or a phone call about an urgent mission. Each time it happens, it leaves you craving more, wondering when your lips will finally meet, and if it will it be as incredible as you’ve heard.

Satoru leans down, you can feel his warm breath tickling your neck and the shell of your ear. It sends a chill right down your spine, straight to your core. Tilting your head to the side, you’re met with his azure half-lidded gaze.

Your eyes flicker between his and his lips several times, and just as your lips ghost one another you can hear your name being called.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before turning to see Shoko calling you over to take a few shots with her.

Satoru rolls his eyes as you groan in annoyance at once again being separated at the last moment. He removes his hands from your hips and stomach, stuffing them into his pocket, diligently following you back to the private booth you have for the night.

Shoko already has the shots ready, handing one to everyone who clinks their little glasses together before downing them. Satoru winces and you quickly grab another drink to use as a chaser, trying to rid the taste of alcohol on your tongue.

You take a seat next to Satoru who pulls you in closer to him by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, letting his thumb gently rub against your skin with light, featherlike touches that send a jolt straight to your core.

As everyone engrosses in conversation, you turn your head towards Satoru when he speaks, letting your nose run along the length of his jaw. Pressing your forehead into his cheek, you turn to see Shoko eyeing you with a raised eyebrow as your cheeks heat and you clear your throat.

“I’m, uh, gonna head to the bathroom really quick.”

The wetness between your thighs is absolutely unreal and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You can feel Satoru’s gaze on you as you walk away and you turn back, biting your lip only to see his eyes trailing down to your ass slowly before coming back up, meeting you with a sultry grin.

Once inside the bathroom, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself of something that might not even happen tonight, or ever, if the universe has anything to say about it.

Standing at the mirror, you run your hands through your hair quickly just as the door opens. You expect to see Shoko walking through the door, but instead, you’re met with a tall head of ivory hair and crystalline eyes surrounded by soft snowy lashes.

“Fancy meeting you here,” You say playfully as he walks up behind you, tilting his head to stare at your ass as you lean forward just enough for your asscheeks to peek out from under your skirt, pretending to fix your lipstick in the mirror.

Satoru chuckles but doesn’t say anything as his hands find their way back to your hips, pulling you into him. Your breath hitches when you feel his hardened length under his slacks, encouraging you to grind into him slowly.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Let them.” He whispers in your ear, warm breath sending a chill down your spine as he flips the back of your skirt over your hips, kneading the plush skin of your ass with his large hands before sliding his fingers over your soaked panties and moving them to the side.

He groans when he runs his fingers through your already soaking folds, avoiding your clit, he doesn’t press in, he just teases until you’re whimpering, rutting your ass back into him further, begging for more.

“Satoru, please,” You whine, “If you don’t fuck me right now, I am going to die.”

He chuckles, continuing his teasing, “Guess you’ll just have to die, baby.”

You glare at him through the mirror where he watches as your furrowed brows slowly turn upwards, lips parting slightly when he lets his thumbs press gently to your clit.

“Can’t even wait for me to get you home?” You mewl as he continues his ministrations, “So fucking desperate for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he dips two fingers in and you’re already feeling more full and more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. Leaning back, you rest your head against his shoulder, rocking your hips to the best of your ability, a coil forming in the lowest parts of your belly.

And then he just stops and pulls his fingers out to your dismay.

You glare at him like he’s just shot you, before he tangles his hand in your hair, tilting your head to a better angle, allowing him to kiss and nip down the sides of your neck - he could tell you hours doing your hair, and makeup to look nice tonight.

He’ll gladly ruin both.

Satoru pushes you back over the sink, quickly undoing his belt, letting his slacks fall past his knees with a clatter. When he releases his cock from the confines of his briefs, he taps the leaking tip on your ass a few times before positioning himself at your entrance.

You gasp, pressing your hands to the sink, pushing your ass further towards him. He watches you through the mirror giving a salacious smile and a wink before pushing in all the way to the hilt.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, adjusting to the sheer size of him. With a hand pressed to your stomach, you feel the way his cock bulges as he thrusts into you a few times.

“Look at me,” He commands. Your eyes flutter open, watching him through the mirror as he places one hand on the wall in front of him for support, and you hold onto the sink for dear life, knuckles aching at how hard you’re gripping the ceramic.

He keeps a hand on your hip to help keep you steady, nails digging into the skin as he moves his hand from the wall, tangling it into your hair once again, holding your head back, forcing you to watch as he relentlessly snaps his hips into you.

“You’re making such a mess, baby,” Satoru purrs, watching his slick-coated cock disappear into you with each thrust, watching as your arousal drips down your thigh and onto the tile below, “So fuckin’ tight.”

Leaning forward, he licks and bites down your neck leaving several scraps and marks - proof of your little bathroom rendezvous.

His eyes lock with yours when he feels your walls clamping around his cock like a noose.

“Yes, right there,” You moan as the coil in your lower stomach returns, threatening to snap at any moment.

He groans, unsure of how much longer he’s going to be able to last, “Wanna see you cum, baby. Give it to me. Bet you make the prettiest faces cumming on my cock.”

You’re chanting his name, all Satoru, and yes as the heat in your core erupts and you’re convulsing and spasming around his cock, squeezing him like you want to keep him there forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, pulling out and dragging you down to your knees before you’ve realized what’s happening.

He strokes his cock several times and your eyes widen at the sight. Flushed tip so red and angry, but the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

You open your mouth, looking so pretty as you place your tongue on the tip of his cock, just as cums all over your tongue and lips, rubbing the tip of his sensitive cock over your tongue, pushing it further into your mouth.

“Swallow.” And you do, licking your lips to make sure you’ve gotten every last drop. Satoru adjusts himself back into his briefs, bending down and placing his lips on yours in a searing, fiery kiss that lets you know he’s nowhere close to being finished with you.

He can taste himself on your tongue but neither of you care.

“I’m gonna text Shoko, tell her I left.”

Satoru clears his throat as he helps you stand, placing an arm around your waist to hold you close, “Call Ijichi too. Tell him you’re taking an extended weekend vacation.”

#jjk fanfic #violetsaffronfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #nsfwgojoweek2023

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theargdetective · 10 months ago

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The "Fallout: Ashfall is woke" cringe compilation.

This will b a blog post compiling all of the insane garbage people who don't like Fallout: Ashfall say about it. The mod doesn't even have an official trailer out and it has already made people unreasonably angry at it. Don't believe me? Just look for yourself. Content warning: Cringe, transphobia and rightoids being hyperbolic idiots.

I should mention that the "anonymous tip" screenshots come from a Anti-Woke youtuber who just sort of decided to take everything this "anonymous tip" said with 100 percent seriousness. For example, the guy just sends the anti-woke youtuber fake TurboSquid screenshot. This guy just took a picture of the submarine from the Fallout: Ashfall discord server and squished it down to fit inside of the TurboSquid site. If you don't believe me, I'll post a copy of the picture on their discord here so you can notice the difference between it and the screenshot the "anonymous tip" gives.

The "tip" also claims that the project lead, AshfallDude, is a trans woman. From what I can tell, there's no evidence to suggest that he's trans. Also I would like to ask: If AshfallDude is a transfem, then why does he call himself AshfallDude and not AshfallBabe or something like that? Like c'mon it's bad enough that you guys are getting on someone's case for being trans, but you're not even getting angry at an actual trans person.

These guys also think that someone named Luka Starflower is secretly in control of the mod and "runs parts of the New Vegas modding community as a crime lord". As far as I can tell, the only people who really believe this are ex-Ashfall developers who run on the middle school logic of "he's friends with a girl, that must mean they're dating" because I cannot find any information on Luka beyond how a bunch of ex-Ashfall developers, including the former lead writer and a composer, left the mod specifically because of her. Actual high school drama tier shit.

And of course you know these guys are TksMantis fans. Also for some reason this guy likes to compare himself and other anti-woke idiots to The Avengers.

I haven't really heard of Fallout: Ashfall until all this weird anti-woke outrage happened. From the sounds of hit the Ashfall Dev Team was gutted by having a bunch of anti-woke types and transphobes being either removed or leaving the mod. I hope the mod does well, it would be a shame if a post-Frontier DLC sized mod was shut down because of idiots like Allout Monty.

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tabletopwhumper · 2 years ago

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Revenge

For once it's not Ali's family drama that's the problem. Aces and Ali take a trip to settle old scores. TW: gun violence, gang violence, pregnant lady in harm's way, a little gore, grieving a loss

Crossroads Automotive, so named for its placement near the meeting point between the Aubrun, Tacoma, and Redmon districts of Seattle, stands proudly against the morning sun as Ali and Johnny make their way toward the open garage door. Tim and Jordan had wasted no time renovating the once derelict garage and Ali can admit, if only to herself, that despite her doubts the twins pulled it together beautifully.

Not as beautiful are the irritated sounds of sibling discord echoing through the vacant vehicle bay. Ali crosses her arms and raises an amused eyebrow at the sight of her older brothers arguing, Jordan's arms flailing dramatically as Tim crosses the space, brushing by his human twin without any apparent concern. “It goes in the store room ya dumb trog!!” Jordan shouts as Tim blatantly ignores him and places the reinforced crate on a tall shelf in the corner.

“You’ll thank me when you’re not digging this crap out of storage,” the troll growls, smirking as Jordan tries (unsuccessfully) to pull the crate down from its perch.

“Sure, and how the hell am I supposed to reach it up there?”

��Not my problem.”

“Jesus fucking…” Ali can’t contain her laughter any longer as a chortle escapes the back of her throat. The sound brings Jordan’s attention to her and Johnny as he rolls his eyes. “You SURE you don’t want a job?" he shouts to his sister, shoulders falling in animated defeat. "Working with you is a god damned picnic after dealing with Tim’s nit picking ass.”

Hands raised in surrender, Ali scoffs and offers a definitive head shake. “Aw hell no, I’m on Tim’s team. You’re a diva supreme in the garage, I don’t need the stress. Commission work only.”

Jordan harrumphs before stalking away, playfully grumbling about ‘a god damned conspiracy.’ But any further faux outrage is interrupted by Jens on his Harley. As the engine cuts and his helmet is discarded John makes his way over. "Hey brother!" he calls and the two racers share a brief hug. "Man, that third bank yesterday? Your times were insane!" Jens offers a genuine grin and it occurs to Ali that she has never seen their longtime friend look humble before. "Bookies are already talking, bro: Jens Yarborough is back on the circuit."

"That’s all you, man." An appreciative clap on the shoulder spurs both men forward back to where Ali is standing with Tim. "I can’t even begin to square away you taking care of that ban… That shit’s my life, brother.”

"I'm just glad it went through."

"Hey, Ace!" Jordan calls from the garage. "Any word on those parts?"

"Yeah, heard from Omaha this morning-"

As Johnny makes his way inside Jens stops alongside Ali and shakes his head. "He's a good guy Sprog," the biker offers with a sincere nudge. "Definitely got my endorsement."

"Good, I can send his ass to your place next time he pisses me off."

"Yeah yeah, keep talkin shit. He must be all right or your brothers woulda put a slug in him the second you started getting chunky." Jens reaches out, index finger extended to poke Ali's stomach.

"Yeah," Ali grins, hands perching on the small but pronounced curve of her belly. Glancing up to where Aces laughs with her brother and it's impossible to hide the affection in her voice. "Guess I'll keep him then."

She hadn’t ever planned on kids. If she’s honest, Ali hasn’t ever planned too far ahead for anything. The next job, the next payday… She spent her life in the care of bikers, gangers, and outlaws. She has a lifetime of experience cleaning and maintaining an armory, but can’t remember the last time she laid eyes on a real baby, let alone held one. But Johnny… The man she loves rolls his eyes dramatically in response to Tim's toothy grin. She doesn’t know how, out of all the people on the planet, out of all the chaos that manages to find her time and again, he found her. How in the hell had she gone from rifles and explosions to looking at three bedroom houses in the suburbs?? The thought makes her laugh. But damned if she’s going to question it. Because when she looks at John Miller, when he smiles at her, there’s something weightless in her chest that feels right. It feels like home.

A low chirp draws Aces' attention from whatever smartass comment Tim is making as he pulls his commlink. "Hold on, got a call coming through." He trots away from the boisterous group as Ali joins them.

"So whaddya think?" Jordan asks, fists planted on his hips.

"I think it's a lot of real estate for a garage," Jens mutters. "You're gonna need a lot of hands to keep these bays full."

"Yeah, it’s gonna be a minute. But the back part of the building is all storage. I’m thinking long term we’ll add an office, maybe a pub-”

“Just like the good old days?” Ali asks skeptically.

Jordan shrugs. “Well… not just like the good old days. Less bullshit, more booze.”

“Better booze,” Tim grins, his large hand landing on Jordan’s shoulder. “I got some ideas about that.”

“Christ, I bet you do.”

Johnny wanders back to where they’re gathered, his face drawn and pale, brows furrowed. “I gotta… shit. I gotta jet for… for a while.”

“Wait, what?” But he's already making his way toward the Charger, cursing under his breath as he scrolls through contacts on his commlink. Before he can make it to the driver’s side Ali steps in front of him. “Hey, what’s goin on?” she asks so only he can hear.

“It’s Devon. My brother. He…” John takes a shuddering breath, leaning back on his heels and Ali can see his thoughts racing. “They… They need me to settle some affairs. On the strip.”

“Oh Jesus.” Worry burns through her middle as Ali feels her brows furrow. She knows Johnny and his brother rarely speak. And though she has never met Devon, she’s heard John reference his brother with enough distaste that she thought that tie may have been severed all together. But she’s never seen Johnny like this. He’s almost vibrating with energy, restlessly shifting from one foot to the other as he sends message after message. “What happened?” she asks, still keeping her voice low so as not to alert her brothers watching from the garage.

“I’m not… he fucking… I have to go. I just have to go.” He presses a kiss to Ali’s cheek and moves past her to get into the Charger. “I’ll call you when I-” But the distressed biker doesn’t have a chance to finish before Ali is in the passenger seat. “No, Ali-”

“Oh hell no. Stop.” She catches his gaze and whatever argument is on his lips is halted. “I am not letting you go by yourself. No fucking way. Whatever is going on, we will handle it. Because I’ll be damned if you’re gonna go running off to Nevada without a clue or any backup." John opens his mouth to protest but Ali interrupts. "Remember what happened last time I took off on my own?” The flinch that barely broadcasts across his face is enough confirmation that he knows exactly what she’s referencing. “What would you do in my place?”

That stops him and she can see he knows he’s not going to win this particular argument. “Okay fine,” he concedes, starting the car. “But we gotta go.”

*****************************************

The drive is long and nearly spent in complete silence. John’s knuckles are white as he clutches the wheel, eyes unwavering from the road as they speed through the darkness. Ali offers to drive at one point but John waves her away and takes a pull from a Long Haul inhaler.

As she watches him Ali can’t help the worry that sits heavy in her gut. The Aces she knows is all easy grins and pragmatism. That he hasn’t told her anything, that he has been so silent… She swallows around the knot in her chest. There is more going on than his brothers’ unexpected death, that much is obvious. But despite the questions burning in the back of her throat Ali remains silent. He’s in shock. He’s grieving.

Ali reaches for the resolve she knows is solid. Because the truth is that whatever is going on, whatever chaos they’re walking into, it doesn’t matter. She will do whatever it takes to get him through this. If that means patiently waiting for him to tell her what’s up then that is what she’ll do. If it means grabbing a rifle and chasing down the fucker that killed his brother… well, target practice it is.

*****************************************

The car stopping jostles Ali out of the restless sleep she’d found in the Charger’s front seat. Looking around it’s clear she missed the last leg of the drive as what had once been barren rockey desert has been replaced by the densely packed buildings of the Las Vegas Strip. Neon lights and flashing displays flood the night and for a moment Ali isn’t sure of the time of day. But a quick glance at the clock assures her that she’s only slept an hour or so and it is indeed late into the night.

She looks over at Aces to find that his far away gaze has turned cold as he takes in the sight of densely populated casinos and bars. “You okay?”

“Heh. I guess.” John’s voice is hard, angry, as he scoffs. “Me and Devon used to run this whole place,” he murmurs as they continue down the congested street. “Had our hands in every pocket down the strip.”

“What happened?” Ali asks quietly. “Why’d you stop?”

“I didn’t. Devon did.” There’s a bitterness to his words and Ali can’t tell if it’s directed at his brother, the business, or himself; judging by his general distaste for Nevada she suspects it’s all three. John rubs his eyes wearily. “When we quit the business a gang called the Hatchetmen moved in. Bunch of amateur gangers with lofty goals but no fucking tact. Never met a problem they couldn’t solve with a punch.”

“Sounds familiar,” Ali snarks with an eye roll.

“Yeah, well, the Ancients got nothing on these fuckers. They’re stupid, but ruthless. Which makes them dangerous as hell.”

“Did they…?” her question trails but judging by John’s flinch the unspoken words are clear.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “They’re the ones who got Devon.”

Fuck.

Traffic moves slowly but it doesn’t seem to bother John as he deftly weaves between cars, making their way off the strip into the dimly lit side streets. “Just gonna grab a cheap motel somewhere off the strip, get this shit handled, and get the hell out,” he mutters as they make a sharp left and the street gets a little dimmer. “I don’t want to spend a second longer here than we need to."

“Okay, what’s the plan?”

“I’m gonna call in some favors. Get the heat we need to make this shit quake its last.”

“Sounds like my kind of plan.”

Despite the confidence of her words Ali can’t help the nagging worry that springs to life as she subtly inspects the very unarmored leather of her jacket. Settling back in her seat, allowing her hands to rest on the curve of her stomach, she wonders if this newfound sense of self preservation is a hormone thing. They had left Seattle so abruptly that there hadn’t been a chance to grab any gear or weapons. What she wouldn’t give to have her van right now…

But one glance at John and she shoves the worry aside. He needs her, needs someone clear headed watching his six. And she’ll be damned if anyone, let alone some low ranking street trash, is angling to hurt him. We just gotta get Daddy through this, she thinks to the tiny people in her belly. Then I promise, no more gunfire.

They pull into a shoddy looking motel, half of its lights either busted out or dark. The couple climb out of the Charger and take a moment to stretch, Ali’s limbs nearly screaming with relief, as another vehicle roars into the nearly empty parking lot. A highly modified four-wheeler screeches to a halt as the driver stands through the rollcage, pulling dusty goggles up into his equally dusty buzzcut.

“HO-LY SHIT!” he shouts. A cocky grin splits his face. “Look who it is! The lone survivor!” Unsure if this new player, Ali palms the pistol on her belt warily. “Hey, you come to get that dirtbag’s remains? Cuz ya might have to scrape it off Papa Freddie's boot-”

The sound of a gunshot sends Ali into a crouch beside the Charger, pistol ready, adrenaline burning through her veins as she quickly scans the parking lot…

Aces’ arm is still raised, Colt in hand, as the thug’s body slumps over. Another shot sounds and John is storming toward the four-wheeler. Another shot. Another. The gore covered corpse rattles against the roll cage as an entire clip is emptied into it.

Silence. The night is utterly still in the wake of John’s slaughter save for the telltale “click” of the empty pistol. Ali stands slowly as the man she loves turns and makes his way back to the driver’s side door. Her heart wrenches in her chest at the iron wrought rage splayed across his features for the world to see. “Fuck the hotel,” he rasps, dropping into the driver’s seat. “We’re hitting the strip. I’ve got some stops to make.” Ali slips in beside him and the Charger peels out into the darkened street.

She doesn’t know what to say. And the truth is that she doesn’t begrudge him his wrath in the slightest. If she were in his shoes? If some fucking street thugs had killed Tim or Jordan? There is no limit she can think of to what she would do to the sons of bitches responsible.

“I’m… fuck! I’m…” John rubs his eyes and Ali isn’t sure if it’s a gesture born of tears or exhaustion. Regardless, he takes another hit from his Long Haul inhaler and settles back against the seat. “I can’t let this go, Ali. I fucking can’t.”

“I know. I get it.”

“I need to make them pay for this,” he growls. “I need…” His snarl becomes more pronounced. “Those fuckers knew Eights was out of the game! What they did to him? There was no reason. It was a goddamned slaughter.”

“Eights? Is that Devon?”

John lets out a breath of a laugh and some of the fire behind his eyes dims. “Yeah. Aces and Eights. Dead man’s hand.” His voice wavers and as much as it pains Ali to hear it, she’s glad to see the man she loves feeling something other than infernal wrath. “An old joke from my dad. Something about some old west guy they called Wild Bill. Said he was holding those cards when he died. Ever since we were kids he called us that. Aces and Eights. Once we started running parts of the business it just stuck I guess.” Ali can’t help but laugh at the similarities between his street name and her own. John’s lips press together in a firm line as his thoughts wander. “Devon… he wasn’t cut out for street shit. Hated it. Hated the violence. It fucked him up. Booze, blow, bitches… they were his fucking soma. Anything he could do to forget. And I…” Aces reaches up to rub his eyes again and this time Ali knows it’s not exhaustion. “I fucking hated him for it. I hated him for going straight. Thought he ruined what we had going down here. But he just… he couldn’t…”

Ali stretches her arm across the console between them and takes his hand in hers. And though he doesn’t look at her, doesn’t take his eyes off the rolling concrete, he responds with a gentle squeeze. For the moment it’s enough.

*****************************************

When John mentions The Diamond Palace Ali isn’t sure what to expect. But as they pull into the parking lot behind the derelict casino she’s sure they’re in the wrong place. The building looks nearly abandoned. Concrete walls adorned with a lifetime’s worth of faded promotional material plastered across the surface. Graffiti, both physical and virtual, litter the outside as overflowing trash cans punctuate the sidewalks. If not for the flashing lights visible inside she might think the place is completely abandoned.

She says as much, causing Aces to shrug. “The Kings use the place as a tax write-off,” he explains as they make their way toward the doors. “Couple of my contacts use it as a safe house. We should find a decent stockpile here.”

They enter to find a desolate neon wasteland. Flickering lights of slot machines long past their prime line the walls and aisles while some overturned bar stools and tables are stacked at random intervals. The only sign of life comes from the bar itself. A freestanding structure at the back of the casino, the circular surface is the cleanest part of the building. One functioning display above the bar is quietly broadcasting an old Urban Brawl match while the bartender talks with his single patron.

“Hey Sal,” John greets with a nod. “Been awhile.”

“Heh, no shit. I heard what happened. Wondered if I’d be seein you.”

“Yeah well, looks like the shit that needed settling is only gonna get stirred up more.”

“‘Zat so, kid?” The older man shakes his head. “You take what ya need.”

Aces nods in thanks and moves toward a secure door just beyond the bar. But before he can input the code another voice, the guy nursing a drink next to Sal, calls out. “Figured you’d either stay clear… or come in like a storm through the desert.”

The speed with which John turns surprises Ali as he looks wide eyed at the grizzled man.

“...DAD?!”

“Wait, what??” Ali’s head follows Aces’ shocked gaze to the overlooked patron. Salt and peppered hair against a squared face, dark stubble dusting his sunken cheeks. There is almost no physical resemblance to the man she loves… save the eyes. John and his father share the same icy blue eyes. Bill “Buddy” Miller sits up straight, working out his right shoulder, before he stands. John drifts closer to the bar, eyes still wide with shock, as Ali stays as close as she can. From what little she does know of the man there is no fucking way he’s getting closer than she’s comfortable with.

Buddy smirks. “Heya Johnny.” John is still staring, still slack jawed, causing the older man to huff out a laugh. “I knew if you were gonna show up you’d have to come through here.” He stops to light a cigarette. “I got this kid. Get outta here. Go back to your life.”

Ali isn’t sure what it is about the man. Maybe showing his face after years off the grid? His utter nonchalance to the situation? The presumption that he knows John after abandoning him?

Whatever plans had previously existed to be the cooler head go completely AWOL as Ali takes five quick steps toward Bill Miller… and punches him in the jaw. It’s not her best strike. Far from it, in fact. But it’s not shabby either and the man staggers back a step, hand cupping the place where she hit him. “You don’t know shit!” she snarls, stepping back to where John is standing.

“Your girl has a mean right hook.”

“Get fucked you wrinkled old-”

John stops any further argument as he steps forward and places a gentle hand on Ali’s arm. “I got this,” he murmurs for her ears alone before turning back to his dad. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are, kid. Came back to take care of our old friends.”

“Nice of you to show up after all this time. Here we were, thinking the fuckers had offed you.”

Buddy spreads his arms wide, flashing a grin. It’s the same grin she’s seen on Johnny’s face a million times, but laced with an arrogance that makes Ali want to slug him again. “You know me better than that, Ace.” John rolls his eyes, making his father grin wider. “Best to have you boys believing. No loose ends. Got you outta the scene.” Turning, Bill walks back to his seat at the bar. “Go home kid. You’re safer out there.

“Safe?” John spit the word as if it tastes foul in his mouth. “Devon thought he was safe too.”

Any facade of nonchalance vanishes as Bill whips back around, finger pointed at them with a snarl. “Dev-” But he catches himself, pressing his lips together in a firm line, before throwing back his drink and dropping heavily into his seat. “Listen,” he says, index finger extended toward them. “I am NOT going to let you chase this ghost. I started this. I came out of hiding to end it.”

“And then what? You gonna just roll over so the Bratva can ice you for coming back?” Aces sneers at his father. “Stay here. Keep your liver busy, just like you been doing all these fucking years. WE’VE got this.”

Buddy’s eyes move toward Ali again and linger there. “Yeah. I’m sure you do. But I don't have any more reason to keep playing dead. Not anymore. Figure it’s best to cash out and take that bullet that’s been waiting for me since the cards were dealt.”

“Stop. Just… quit with the fucking vague metaphors and riddles Bill. I think you’re just sick of putzing around button shelf bars and dives. You wanna get iced? Do it on your own fucking time.”

“You don’t know shit kid.” Ali bites back the urge to take another swing at the son of bitch in front of them but Aces just barks out a disbelieving laugh. “Do you remember the same split that I do?! Nostra hung our asses out to dry when I said we were done on the strip!” Bill’s face turns somber as he watches Sal refill his glass. “I knew your brother wanted out. It wasn’t good for him anyway. So I took the chance. Took it for all of us.”

“You think-”

“We stomped on a lotta toes working dirty, kid. And the second we didn’t have the leverage anymore there were a million different knives at our back.” Buddy takes a long drag from his smoke, his exhale coming back out as a heavy sigh. “I ain’t playing the martyr kid. But my vanishing act took all the heat off both of you. Hatchets were happy and shit was settled.” He scoffs. “Till now anyway.”

John studies his father, face impassive. It’s the face he wears when he doesn’t want other people to know what’s going on in his head. Ali has seen it only rarely. “What the fuck happened?” he asks his dad, the words wavering.

“Old buddy of mine said Devon had a few too many one night. One of the Hatchets spilled a drink on one of Devon’s girls, so Devon starts runnin his mouth. Spouting shit about the Hatchets picking up the scraps when we left.”

John closes his eyes as a frustrated breath escapes his chest. “Fucking hell.”

“One of the big dogs, Papa Freddie… he didn’t take kindly to your brother flinging shit. Took him out in plain sight.”

“God dammit Eights,” John mutters. There’s a heavy sort of silence between the three of them, the low sounds of Urban Brawl from the display the only sound in the derelict casino. But it’s short lived as Aces lets out a huff and looks back at his father. “We’re gonna stock up and get these fuckers. You in?”

“You go ahead. If we’re riding out I need another drink first.”

John rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, instead moving toward the mag lock on the door. Whatever code he has still works as the door opens seamlessly. Inside the stockroom are all manner of arms and munitions. Ali steps inside behind John and lets out a low appreciative whistle.

“I’ve got a plan,” John states matter-of-factly as he examines a pistol.

“How could you not? With these beauties…” Ali discards her jacket on a nearby chair before reaching into a crate. Inside she finds a beautifully maintained Remington. She lets out an appreciative breath before inspecting the firearm. Turning, she begins scanning the shelves for shells…

Only to find John’s gaze boring into her. She meets his eyes and is surprised to find him pale, his face drawn. “What's wrong?” she asks, the gun forgotten.

“... I…… Fuck!" Aces turns and begins digging through a storage locker. A few seconds later he reveals an especially heavy armored jacket. He holds it out to her. “Put this on," he mumbles. She hadn’t planned to argue. But the look on his face tells her he's waiting for an objection.

“Yeah,” she replies, slipping the garment over her shoulders. “Of course.” The armor is a little cumbersome and the jacket itself is two sizes too big. But it’ll still stop a bullet more effectively than the thin layer of leather she’d come wearing so Ali isn’t in any position to complain.

John levels her with a wounded look. “Keep it on," he says quietly as he helps her adjust the claps. "If everything goes like it should you won’t need it. But-”

“-when does anything go the way it should?” she finishes with a smirk.

Something snaps then and Aces sighs. “Jesus, what are we doing here Ali?” Plopping into a nearby chair, sitting backward so that his arms rest on the back, he runs both hands down his face. “We’re done with this shit. And you're…" he gestures to her rounding stomach. "What the fuck was I thinking-”

“You weren’t.” Ali sits on a crate across from him and takes his hands in hers. “You weren’t thinking. But we’re here. Because shit happens. And there’s no fucking way what those bastards did can go unanswered.”

“I… I just keep asking myself… is this what Devon would want? Me, hunting these fuckers down, seeking out justice? Or should I just say fuck it and let Bill die his fucking hero’s death?”

Ali studies John’s calloused knuckles as she thinks for a moment, unsure. “A long time ago Jordan told me ‘the dead don’t give a fuck what we do. Life is for the living.’”

Aces barks out a sardonic laugh. “Cuz that’s helpful.”

“I just mean that… what Devon would want isn’t the priority. Because you’re here. So the question is, what do you want?” John looks up and Ali offers a slight smile. “You need to do whatever feels right. I’m here, no matter what that is.”

He smiles then. And the relief almost takes her breath away because it’s a real smile. It’s real and it’s his. She didn’t realize how much she’s been missing that smile. John presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist before standing, his shoulders still rounded beneath the weight of the day, but with a slightly more dynamic bounce to his step. “Alright, let’s load up.”

The couple make their way back into the bar… only to find that Bill’s seat is empty. Sal, the bartender, turns at their approach. “You still here?” he asks. “Thought you went with Buddy. He said he was going to put on a show for the old crowd.”

“Fuck!” John turns to Ali, his brows furrowed. “He’s going after Freddie on his own.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Go get the charger, pull it around the side. We’re gonna load the weapons and C4 and take this shit to them before-” But Ali is already running toward the car as a cold sort of dread hollows out a pit in her stomach.

Ten minutes and several crates of C4 later finds John and Ali speeding through the Vegas streets, this time with Ali behind the wheel. She can’t help but feel relieved, finally doing something besides worry. The rumble of the car’s engine, the feeling of control as they round tight corners. It feels like home.

“Okay,” John says as he loads their guns from the passenger seat. “I programmed the NavNet so you know where we’re headed. Papa Freddie is either at the warehouse or the Golden Trail. Either way, if we see Dad’s camaro we know we’re in the right spot.” Ali nods as they make another turn. “We get there, set the bricks, deal with any stragglers, demo, drive. I’ll handle the C4.” He stops loading long enough to fix his gaze on Ali. “If bullets start flying, keep your head down. These fuckers don’t pack anything hotter than a Pred V and that won’t get through the Charger. Stay behind the wheel, I’ll do the rest.” Ali starts to protest but the look he gives her silences any argument. “I know you want to help,” he says, his words taking on a softer edge. “But I can’t do what I need to if I’m worrying about you taking a bullet. Please.”

“Okay,” she concedes. “But if this goes tits up-”

“You’re gonna get the hell out of there. No heroics.” Ali glares back for a moment before fixing her eyes on the road. That she doesn’t argue must be enough for John because he resumes prepping their gear. But the truth is that she’s not prepared to leave Vegas without him. Either they're both going home, or neither of them are.

*****************************************

From their hotel window Ali watches Johnny speak quietly with his father. It hadn’t been an easy feat, but killing those ganger pricks and turning their warehouse to rubble turned out to be one of the cleanest jobs she’d ever been on. Maybe I should start a ganger extermination business, she thinks ruefully. First the Ancients, now the Hatchetmen? Two for two.

There’s still something broken between father and son and Ali knows it won't be fixed in one vengeance fueled weekend. But something Buddy says brings a smile to John’s face as he grins and runs a hand through his hair. As they part ways there's no hug. Not even a handshake. But neither are they angry. All good signs as her future father-in-law struts back to his car.

A moment later the hotel room door opens and Johnny comes in. She honestly isn’t sure how he’s still vertical after two days without sleep and all the trouble they’ve run across. But as he struggles to muster a reassuring smile she can see each and every ounce of exhaustion radiating from him. “You ready?” he asks, reaching for his keys.

But before he gets there Ali has snatched them off the cheap desk as her hands settle firmly on her hips. “We are not going anywhere until you get some sleep.”

“I’m fine baby, really.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon, I just wanna get home and-”

“Home will still be there tomorrow. But if you zonk behind the wheel we’ll never get there. And since I’m damn near narcoleptic these days it looks like we’re hanging here.”

“Ali-”

“Nope.”

His shoulders sag in defeat as he heaves out a shuddering breath. “Okay,” he concedes. “A short nap, then we’ll go.”

“I accept that.”

The two settle into the cheap bedding, John nestled against her shoulder as she holds him tightly. His arm moves to settle across her middle… but stops at the pronounced baby bump beneath her t-shirt. Instead, he settles his hand on her stomach and huffs out a chuckle. “They’re really in there…”

“Yeah.” Ali buries her face in John’s short cropped hair and breathes deeply, letting his scent anchor her. “They really are.”

“...we’ve got this, right?”

Her heart lurches at the waiver in his voice. Johnny always seems to have a plan. And even when there's not he's thinking on his feet, always in control. To hear such raw worry coming from the man she loves… “Everything is okay,” she reassures, tightening her grip around his shoulders. “We’re all safe. Go to sleep.”

Johnny’s eyes drift close… and don’t open again for fourteen hours.

#shadowrun #original character #angst #oc #caretaking #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending

0 notes

delicrieux · 4 years ago

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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pet-genius · 3 years ago

Text

The Death Eaters as a Cult - Part 2

Follow-up post to this post, exploring the DE dynamics and speculating on how Voldemort got them on his hook. Trigger warning: Cult abuse, I suppose.

The Death Eaters’ behavior at the graveyard reflects what was expected of them during the first war. LV refers to his Death Eaters as his “true family”, and yet:

Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

“Master... Master...” he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle’s grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.

If this is how anyone in your family has EVER treated you, go to the police. No: Death Eaters were expected to crawl on their knees and to kiss their master’s robe. He had enforced such discipline that they all remembered their place in the circle 13 years later. He expected to be worshiped and humiliated his own people.

He also tortures them, for their failure to try to find him and resurrect him:

“It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed....”

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort’s feet. “Master!” he shrieked, “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!” Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand. “Crucio!”

He also manipulates them:

“Get up, Avery,” said Voldemort softly. “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years... I want thirteen years’ repayment before I forgive you.

Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?”

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

“You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”

Why does LV feel that Peter owes him anything? Peter resurrected him. But pleasing LV is impossible. He needs his followers to be driven by loyalty, not fear - they are not even allowed to be self-interested in the sense of wanting not to die. Peter might deserve pain, but one must ask why Voldemort of all people feels this way - Peter never hurt him.

Then, he expects Peter to show gratitude for what he would have had in the first place, had Voldemort not taken it from him: a hand. Peter falls for it:

“Yes, Master,” moaned Wormtail, “please, Master... please...”

“Yet you helped return me to my body,” said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. “Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers....”

[...]

“My Lord,” he whispered. “Master... it is beautiful... thank you... thank you.”

That’s how Voldemort rewards his helpers: He stops the pain he himself inflicted.

These are Death Eaters with obvious vulnerabilities for Voldemort to exploit:

Barty Crouch Jr. has a very dysfunctional relationship with his dad. Sirius: “Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy... then he sent him straight to Azkaban”.

Voldemort clearly took advantage of this, played up the parallel between Tom Riddle Sr. and Barty Crouch Sr., and BCJ has clearly come to see him as something of a father figure:

“I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter... closer than a son....”

[...]

“The Dark Lord and I,” said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, “have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers... very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure... the very great pleasure... of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!”

Bellatrix’s vulnerability is obvious: She’s in love with Voldemort. He is constantly toying with her, promising intimacy and reward, but never delivering. He only uses her: Her vault, her duelling skills, her home. It’s interesting that she’s the only female DE outside of Alecto. Perhaps she was insecure about being female, or felt oppressed by her marriage, or perhaps she was failing to live up to her family’s expectation that she make pureblood babies, and Voldemort promised her a future where she’d be free of these constraints.

She’s supposed to be the closest one to him, the one he cares about the most, yet she too fears his wrath. Following the prophecy’s destruction:

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.

“Master, you should know —”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”

“But Master — he is here — he is below —”

Voldemort paid no attention.

He really should have paid attention to her warning that Dumbledore was coming. Instead, he threatened her even as she was begging forgiveness for something that was not her fault.

The chapter Spinner’s End shows how giftedVoldemort is at spreading enmity and discord among his followers. Not only do they not all know each other, the ones who do can never conspire against their master, because of the atmosphere of distrust.

“Before I answer you — oh yes, Bellatrix, I am going to answer! You can carry my words back to the others who whisper behind my back, and carry false tales of my treachery to the Dark Lord! Before I answer you, I say, let me ask a question in turn. Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of those questions? And do you really think that, had I not been able to give satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?”

She hesitated.

“I know he believes you, but...”

“You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?”

He is accusing Bella of heresy. He has clearly learned a thing or two about manipulation, having spent his entire adult life either under Voldemort or under Dumbledore. He presents himself as selfish for staying with Dumbledore, and he presents Voldemort’s words as gospel: “The Dark Lord does not complain that I stayed, so I do not see why you do.” He also takes pride in being closer to him and more useful:

“But what use have you been?” sneered Bellatrix. “What useful information have we had from you?”

“My information has been conveyed directly to the Dark Lord,” said Snape. “If he chooses not to share it with you —”

“He shares everything with me!” said Bellatrix, firing up at once.

“He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful —”

“Does he?” said Snape, his voice delicately inflected to suggest his disbelief.“Does he still, after the fiasco at the Ministry?”

The master stroke is the subtle insinuation that lowly half-blood Snape is closer to Voldemort than Bellatrix is. This makes her lose what little composure she had, and plays on her insecurity. Her interrogation ends shortly thereafter, and she seems satisfied with explanations that are frankly not very convincing.

“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”

Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.

“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”

Bella is enforcing silence on her sister. This phenomenon exists in real cults too: Members enforce the rules on each other, the leader’s hands are clean.

Bella tells Cissy off for caring whether Draco lives or dies:

“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect —”

I think this was LV’s pitch to Bella: She is the one who wanted to prove herself.

Bella is willing to give him so much, and he gives her nothing. Also, twice she claims that it’s a point of pride to be willing to die for the Dark Lord.

In DLA, he is particularly subtly abusive toward her:

“My Lord,” said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, “it is an honor to have you here, in our family’s house. There can be no higher pleasure.”

[...]

Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.

Why is Bellatrix halfway down the table? She has been unfailingly loyal, why is he punishing her with distance? Is he punishing her for being related to Narcissa?

“No higher pleasure,” repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. “That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you.”

Her face flooded with color; her eyes welled with tears of delight.

“My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!”

Look how nice he’s being! Look how happy he makes her! Except this is immediately followed by teasing her about her niece’s marriage:

“No higher pleasure... even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?”

She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.

“I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”

“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.”

There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

He is punishing with humiliation. Lucius screwed up the mission at the DOM and Draco didn’t kill Dumbledore, but what did Bella do? Nobody is safe. Instead of resenting the way she is treated, Bellatrix demonstrates her fanaticism:

“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.”

[...]

“Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring.

“You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.”

“Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!”

“You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain....”

Bella does not needanyone (a half-blood!) to teach her she must keep her family tree pure. She clearly doesn’t know crucial things about Tom Riddle, or is in denial. This is the same Bellatrix who killed her own cousin, so she is very capable of “pruning” her own family tree.

At the Malfoy Manor:

“Gold!” laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. “Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of —”

She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Harry could not see. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve —

“STOP!” shrieked Bellatrix. “Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!”

She seeks only the honor of his [something], but she is scared to death of him. She will kill for him and die for him, but she is keenly aware of the possibility that he might kill her - yet she loves him. She is a true believer - without him, she is nothing, and her devotion controls her every interaction. In her defense, he does not let others kill her, at least - he saves her at the end of the battle at the Department of Mysteries and seems upset when she dies.

Bellatrix thinks independently once: She doesn’t trust Snape, even though her master does. This is not so odd - the half-blood appears to be undermining her, to have aspirations to griw even closer to Voldemort than her - her jealousy and insecurity override how brainwashed she is. The dynamic between the Black sisters exemplifies the way cults drive wedges between family members - not that the Black family needed any help with that.

Peter’s vulnerability is obvious: His own friends think he’s worthless. He clearly isn’t - he became an animagus too, and he tricked Sirius, kill 12 Muggles with a single curse, and perform the tasks to revive Voldemort - but Voldemort exploited Peter’s insecurity, and even whatever guilt Peter had felt at betraying his friends. Sirius says Peter always sought the protection of the biggest bully. His “uselessness” was the express reason Sirius switched with Peter - obviously, someone like that could never be pegged for a potential spy. Voldemort must have made Peter feel valuable, like there was something only Peter could do - and when Peter’s choices ran out, he showed Peter his true colors.

We’ve seen how LV treated Peter at the resurrection ceremony. We also have the way he bossed him around in the first chapter of GOF, and that he forced Peter to work as Snape’s “assistant”, as seen in Spinner’s End. Sending Peter to work for Snivellus was brilliantly cruel - Peter must have viewed this as the height of humiliation.

In Dark Lord Ascending, he is shrinking himself to near non-existence:

“Yes, m-my Lord,” gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it had appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

In part 3 - Draco, Regulus, Snape, Lucius, general dynamics, and more speculations!

#meta #hp meta #cults #death eaters #lord voldemord #bellatrix #peter pettigrew

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bondsmagii · 3 years ago

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Hey read (some of) this blog post (long as hell), tries to pick it up where your old scp cult post left off: lackoflepers medium com/scp-is-not-a-cult-196e87ce6b11

(link)

this is insane. I've never written anything that's ever received a full response before, so that's exciting. what's even more exciting is that this piece does raise some really interesting questions, and is very well-written and thoughtful.

the strange thing is, I think we're both in agreement -- but I'm calling it a cult, and the author of this piece is calling it a "fledgling religion". I agree with this outlook, if I'm honest -- but at the same time I can't help but think that this has filled a hole in my cult theory, rather than poked a hole in it.

when I wrote the original cult post, the one thing I couldn't quite equate was the religion aspect. there was a lot of things to consider from that aspect, in terms of cults requiring a certain doctrine, rituals, etc, and while I was able to draw comparisons to the site culture and these things, it didn't quite fit. this article explains and illustrates exactly what all of these things are, and the sheer amount of similarities between the SCP wiki culture and religious fundamentalists. it's absolutely incredible, how it all still adds up.

however, some things are way off. I understand the author has a history with site and with staff, and they obviously understand that there's a complicated relationship between the two. the piece certainly tackles the question from an educated site-critical standpoint, but I can't help but notice some glaring omissions and in some places, assumptions which I feel are quite simply incorrect. under the cut we go, because this is long.

the author seems to be very ignorant of the site's cyclical patterns. one of their main arguments for the wiki's not being a cult is how people like Dr Gears and thedeadlymoose don't have more power over the masses, being such important figures. the problem with the wiki is that it is very cyclical, and big names of one era do not translate over to new eras. big names replace old ones, and the old ones either become fond grandparent figures (like Gears, who had the sense to take a step back before the tides changed against him) or they become irrelevant or reviled (like thedeadlymoose, or pixelatedharmony (Roget).) this means that if the former appeals to the group, they will get essentially a pat on the head and a gentle dismissal, or if the latter speak out they will be silenced, harassed, banned, etc. this is very cultlike behaviour -- if somebody goes against the grain, they become an immediate enemy of the people. the only way to survive fame on the wiki is to retire quietly, at your peak, and keep yourself to yourself.

going on from this, there are also different levels to how a staff member is seen. there have been eras of the site where the site admin might not be as impressive as one of the prolific writers, for example. who these days knows about The Administrator? it's all Dr Gears to them. different authors have different levels of unofficial authority, and the author of the piece doesn't seem to realise that it's a cult of personality as much as anything else. there are constant divisions among staff, even if they present a united front; frequently those not toeing the party line have been ostracised or purged, and this filters down to the average user. just because a person is on staff does not mean they immediately skyrocket to godhood, if we're using the religious metaphor. this is why it seems as though "staff" as a whole isn't uniformly worshipped -- they're not. there are complex currents of power at work here, and it's frustrating because at first glance it seems to invalidate the very real fact that a few site members have all the authority. the staff worship extends to staff members. those in lower tiers will act similarly to those in higher tiers as a new member would act towards all staff.

the author draws attention to thedeadlymoose's impressive efforts to bring the site forward from its 4chan beginnings and make it more inclusive to LGBT members -- something that has undoubtedly had an effect. however, the author does not mention that to date, the site's only successful splinter site (as in, a site that lasted more than a few weeks) is RPC, and while this website came about for multiple reasons, it's undeniable that one of these reasons was because of the fact that the wiki was openly supportive of LGBT people during Pride Month. it's also interesting to note that the author is also a member of the RPC site, so it's odd that this piece of the site's origins is not mentioned.

the acceptance of these pro-LGBT policies also seems to be less wide-spread than the author believes -- most people don't care, there does exist users who are homophobic or transphobic, and -- something I'm surprised wasn't mentioned at all in the piece -- when LGBT members of the site spoke up and said the new logo made them feel pandered to, and the resulting blowout made them feel targeted and unsafe, they were mass banned from the subreddit by a rogue moderator who, incensed by the fact his authority was so challenged, then ragequit and abused people on the threads for several hours. this is a typical staff response to discontent in the masses. so yes, thedeadlymoose did have some significant sway in the attitude changing somewhat, but it was not as widespread (nor as cared about) as the article's author seems to think.

now, I shall move on to specific quotations.

Furthermore, as a gaggle of creators, SCP should never feature the mass conformity of thought that defines a cult; theirs is an ecosystem that predicates itself upon creation, and obsessively on the new and original — that is to say, the different (but tempered).

while the author does elaborate on this idea of creativity and conformity, this is just wrong. again, I blame the author's ignorance in regards to the cyclical nature of the site -- which isn't the fault of the author, in my opinion. such cycles are slow, measuring out in years rather than months, which is insanely long for an internet community. in order to notice them, you would have to have been observing for some time -- which I have been. since I have been observing the site (which has been since its very creation -- I was on the 4chan thread in 2007 when 173 was created and I have seen the wiki from its infancy on EditThis over to wikidot) I have seen this happen countless times. a type of writing, be it style or genre, takes off. it could be LOLFoundation, grimdark, whatever -- it takes off, it runs the site for a year or so, and then it crashes and burns. when it takes off, there are rules for writing it that must be obeyed lest you be downvoted to oblivion. as the attitude turns against it, those who still write it are vilified and ostracised, and the new one takes over. there have been mass purges in the past, and there has always been, since the wiki's inception, conformity of thought. one of my oldest complaints about the wiki is that, for a site full of writers, they have no imagination and absolutely no desire to step out of the approved style.

To put it very broadly, things get accustomed to the status quo in a highly regulated environment, and get better at simply remaining and surviving in that.

this could be a decent rebuff to my previous point, but the fact is that while the SCP wiki harbours cultish behaviour, a vast majority of the users are casual readers who maybe write one or two articles. the stagnation is, at least partially, because of the fact that most users sign up, read some articles, think "cool, I have an idea for one!", write it -- and have it emulate the articles they've read, thus sounding similar in tone and content to the rest of the recent articles -- get a semi-decent response if lucky, and then move on after a few months or years.

the people who power the wiki, however -- who are prolific, who churn out insane amount of articles -- are suffering from what I outlined in my above point. a small percentage of the wiki dictates the direction it goes. it has always been like this -- and people who go against the grain that staff have employed, be it old user or new, will pay for it. this payment is often in downvotes, but occasionally comes in harassment, bans, or deletions, too.

Lastly a cult is really the most extreme version of a religion, it is a religion on steroids.

this is straight-up incorrect. cults began as religions gone hayware, yes, but the idea of a cult as a Jonestown-style compound in the middle of nowhere is outdated. cults are the most extreme version of an ideology -- be it religious, political, or otherwise. they are ideologies on steroids. thanks to the internet, they also no longer have to be in real life spaces. you can be in a social cult on Twitter or on Discord; you can be in a cult of ideology on an incel forum or in a social circle of TERF blogs. all of these things are cults. they have cult-like behaviour and thinking.

this is where the author proves my point beyond all doubt. the author says the following about the wiki's increasingly left-wing inclusive policies:

What was intended to be an executive extension in peace has, due to the force required to counteract the sheer hostility and persecution once leveled at this group at its peak, instead overshot its mark and has become a brutal bureaucratic sanctioning of political identity. (I can hear someone saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.)

the biggest shift in this cult-think, for me, was observed when the shift towards Terminally Online Woke Left attitudes began to be increasingly observed. I'm not talking about getting people to tone down the homophobia and whatnot. I'm talking about this culture of purity and suffering that the author outlines very well in the article; if you have read the article, I needn't go over it again. the wiki now holds a monopoly on suffering using the same kind of Oppression Olympics as other spaces devoted to purity culture -- and purity culture is a cult. this is straight-up fact at this point. it is my belief that staff identified the power available to them in a) targeting people from oppressed and vulnerable groups and giving them a so-called safe space and b) using their various oppressions to their advantage.

something that is prolific in purity culture circles is that somebody who is oppressed in any way cannot be held to blame for their actions. they cannot be a bad person. this is ideological armour, and staff wields it. they also use purity culture and apparently progressive ideology to shut down anyone who dissents, and to smear their name and have then ostracised as an enemy. why do they do this? liking the power and fame of their position is a big part of it, as the author outlined, but something major is missing.

throughout the entire article, the author does not once mention the detailed and extensive history of staff sexually abusing minors on the site.

this is well-documented by this point. staff has seen many predators in its ranks, including one of the most prolific site members of all time -- AdminBright, or The Duckman. staff has known about these staff members and has covered it up over years. I myself have heard testimony from countless victims, but whenever we raise enough of a stink, a staff member does an "internal investigation" and nothing comes of it. the fact that the cult-like behaviour of this website can be discussed without one of the cornerstones of cult activity -- using its members for financial or sexual gain -- is astounding to me.

to go on from this, there is also no mention of the SCP lawyer fund, which raised over $30,000 and then faced staff actively resisting transparency as to the case and the funds. financial manipulation is another major example of cult behaviour.

without acknowledging these two things, I do not think that a full argument against the idea of the SCP wiki as a cult can be possible.

the author raises a good point that illustrates both why staff acts the way it does, and why the users are so eager to imitate:

The answer is something that can turn someone into their nemesis; something that would make someone sell their soul for 1000 upvotes; that tragic commonality that binds all individuals who feel the need to write; the need to be received, but more, to be loved for it.

this is a big reason why staff clings to its power, and why people sell out their creativity, and why people emulate this behaviour, and why prolific authors burn out so fast. however, running through all of this at its core -- through the need to be received and loved -- is the power that comes with it. this is all about power.

to mention the specific example of LordStonefish, and his reaction when he found out that his interviewer was enemy of the people pixelatedharmony, now of "burning out, ragequitting the site, and going to talk shit on KiwiFarms" infamy:

[...] it was as if LSF was speaking to a leper, and that the ongoing participation in the salvation of public approval (not to mention site participation as well) was directly dependent upon LSF’s rebuke of pH as a demon who is only worthy of a terrible fate and, as we see in the screencaps, even death.

leaving my personal opinions on Harmony out of this, going from a perfectly civil interview to finding out that the interviewer was an enemy and not only dumping all of his private information to offset doxing, but also going into detail about some highly personal stuff for shock value... I don't think Harmony quite required that treatment. the fact is that, as the quote outlines above, the only way to ensure that he wouldn't be completely ostracised for fraternising with the enemy (KiwiFarms -- of which Harmony is apparently the ambassador) was to behave like a man shunning a sinner. Harmony has sinned -- she rejected the status quo, she defied the group and its authority, and LordStonefish, in order to remain safe from being tarred with the same brush -- has to react with suitable horror to her presence.

it should be noted here that while KiwiFarms has a reputation for being a hive of scum and villainy, its main reputation regarding the SCP Wiki has been for being the one place where complaints against the site are openly discussed, often by defected staff members such as pixelatedharmony and Cyantreuse, and perhaps most telling of all -- the place where a lot of accounts of sexual harassment and abuse have been filed. staff rails against it on the grounds of it being filled with people who use slurs and have questionable ideological beginnings (ironic, coming from a website which began on 4chan) -- but as a leftist myself with extensive knowledge of the wiki, I can confirm that no criticisms I've seen on there have been unfair or inaccurate, and in fact a lot of the evidence and testimony posted there is damning. it would be fair to not wish to associate with the site because of its content in other places, or even its past reputation, but the fact staff rail against it so hard when it's currently one of the only places (and certainly the only public place) where their deeds are on display? it's interesting.

of LordStonefish's reaction, the author says:

This is the behavior of a deeply religious figure.

it is. this is the reaction of a Mormon meeting an old friend who has left the church. this is the reaction of a Jehovah's Witness crossing the street to avoid a shunned neighbour. it is the behaviour, you could say, of a cult member.

in the conclusion, the author states:

And if anyone is to shoulder blame for the creation of this pathology and its complex, it are those true bigots of history and today, who don’t have the spiritual maturity to understand that someone’s sexual preference or identity shouldn’t be enough to categorically separate them from a definition of humanity; to beat, maim, and wish death upon them.

perhaps this might have been true, perhaps this might have drawn a thoughtful and damning line under the whole affair, if not for the fact that this behaviour has been occurring since long before the internet became known for its progressive and now increasingly often, ridiculous takes on inclusion and sensitivity. this kind of cultish groupthink has been ongoing since the wiki's very first inception. the cyclical worship of a group of staff members and other prolific writers (though the group are often one and the same) and their chosen theme or genre has occurred like clockwork since the late 00s. it has occurred when the website was still entrenched in its 4chan days and saying slurs was barely blinked at. it was still there back when staff was predominantly (or at least presumably) cis, white, and male. it was there when being gay was the butt of a joke and being trans was all but unthought of. it has always been there, and while the latest progressive policies and attitudes have had an effect on how the power is wielded, it has not changed the power itself. if the tides ever turn on the Terminally Online Woke ideology, staff will change with it and adapt their policies and ideologies to keep their power.

if anyone is to shoulder the blame for the creation of this pathology, it is the elitist attitude that has allowed a select few to be worshipped unquestionably. it is the power-hungry individuals who seek out fame and respect on a writing website and then use this fame and respect to treat others badly and their fear of a fall from grace to shelter others treating people worse. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who use their position to groom and sexually assault minors. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who keep it silent. as the severity of staff's secrets has increased, so has their attempts to silence dissent and reform at all costs.

the author agrees that this kind of religious think might lead to a cult in the future. the author says the cult will be a cult of vulnerability, but I disagree. I believe the cult is already there, and it is -- and always has been -- a cult of power.

#scp shenanigans #anon #asks

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rosencrantzsguildenstern · 3 years ago

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types of fandom:

- big so there’s lots of drama

- small so there’s lots of drama

- the media was really popular in like 2015 and isn’t anymore so now you have a ton of content to look at but it’s all like bad 2015 takes

- semi related but more painful version of this where someone from 2015 is the only other person in the tag with you and they seem to have thrown away their computer and gone to live in the woods

- big enough that people who don’t know what it is know what it is

- 90% of the members of the fandom are in the same discord and in the notes of every fic they write they’re like ‘shoutout to the discord for the inspiration for this'

- all the fic/art is like commissions or gift exchanges so you know there must be people insane about the media SOMEWHERE but they don’t fucking make anything

- most of the fans are mutuals or mutuals in law and kind of friends. tags on posts are 50% ‘hi bestie’ and 50% ‘op you’re a genius im kissing you on the lips’.

- everyone is an adult on ff.net so you can’t find anything on ao3

- everyone is a 12 year old on wattpad so you can’t find anything on ao3

- most fans are like yeah media is my best friend and this person is famous in the fandom for being so nice and cool and there’s people on the outside of that circle like sharks sniffing for blood looking for more things they can call problematic because the endless inaccurate praise is going to drive them insane

- 99% haha funny jokes. quality of the actual fic vastly varies between fandom

- makes it onto tumblr wrapped/trending but no one knows why

#chitra.txt #looking back on this post it DOES look like a post from 2016 but idc cringe is dead #im posting it

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sideblog-666-thousand · 4 years ago

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Euronymous Interview in Decibel of Death, ‘87. English Translation. Ft. Euronymous’ depraved torture fantasies involving Coca-Cola.

‘Decibel of Death’ was a French fanzine from the 80s. It’s first issue was released in ‘86, and by the summer of ‘87, it switched over from French to English-language. This has been my favourite interview of Euronymous for a long time now, so I decided I’d translate it to English so that other, non-francophone, people could enjoy it too. This issue in particular is from February of ‘87, and was their fourth issue overall.

I’ll add a link to where you can find this, and other D.O.D scans, below. If anybody wants me to translate more French, or Russian, interviews, feel free to PM me.

Note: NDLR is the editor’s notes. Any commentary or context by me will be in bold and in parenthesis, so feel free to totally ignore it. If something is between “« »” it’s because it was already written in English to begin with.

Disclaimer: if some of the sentences sound like the energizer bunny is hooked on an iv rig full of pure meth, don’t blame me, I did my best. Take it up with Euronymous himself. Also, I’m not excusing Euronymous’ poor behaviour, I’m just saying his poor behaviour is kind of entertaining.

Without further ado...

D.O.D: And once again, here’s Norwegian Mayhem. If you remember, we presented them to you back in the May issue of D.O.D. Since then, they released a new demo titled “Death Crush”!! Because of this event, we decided to ask the guitarist of this rather sinister band a few questions.

D.O.D: Okay, there’s been more than a few line-up changes in Mayhem. Can you tell us what the current one is?

Euro: Alright, there’s me on guitars, Manheim on battery, Necro-butcher on drums, and our session vocalist, Maniac.

D.O.D: And what is the medium age of the group?

Euro: We are all 18 years old.

D.O.D: How long has Mayhem been around for?

Euro: Mayhem has been around since August of ‘84 with this line-up, before that, I played in another shitty metal group that was also called Mayhem. The other members also played in a crappy band before we all met.

D.O.D: How would you describe your music?

Euro: Ah, well, it’s like a wall of sound played at extreme speed all mixed with the sound of a chainsaw!!

D.O.D: In your opinion, who are the biggest posers on this planet?

Euro: That definitely has to be the Swedish group ‘Europe’. «Fuck them!!» I hate this band!!

D.O.D: Ha ha, what would you like to do to make them suffer?

(This is the exact moment where the interviewers realize that Euronymous is literally fucking insane. The editor censors some of the things Euronymous says because he has a very vulgar manner of speaking, so, brace yourselves. To make it abundantly clear— I didn’t censor any of this, if it was me, I’d let him continue swearing ‘til next year if he wanted to. Take it up with D.O.D!)

Euro: First of all, I’d cut them and make them eat their own (bleep)!! Then, I’ll fuck them in the ass with an empty bottle of Coke, and if they’re still alive somehow, I’ll drown them in their own piss!! (NDLR: I’d do the same to a few guys in Germany and Switzerland!!) But all of this is reserved for their guitarist, drummer and bassist, I have a far crueler torture for their singer, for him, I’m simply going to break his mirror and steal his perfume!! Haaaaafuckinghah!!! (NDLR: ahahahaha, this is so much fun!!)

D.O.D: Okay, Euronymous, onto more serious topics, who composes the most in Mayhem?

Euro: It’s me and Necro, but sometimes Manheim comes up with good riffs, he actually wrote most of P.F.A (Pure Fucking Armageddon)

D.O.D: I believe thrashers reacted pretty well to your first demo, right?

Euro: Despite the zero sound of this demo. It's true that it's actually the hardcore thrashers that appreciated it, although it was the others hating it that gave us an enormous promotion like with 'Metal Forces'.

D.O.D: Has there been groups that have influenced you?

Euro: Of course, early Venom has really inspired us, although we don’t sound like them in any way. We’re also influenced by bands like Hellhammer and Sodom.

D.O.D: Mayhem is a common band name, what do you think of other Mayhem (such as NYC Mayhem, Mayhem (WC), Mayhem (Oregon))?

Euro: NYC Mayhem* are excellent, I adore them! (NDLR: me too!!) and they call themselves NYC Mayhem. But as for the other Mayhems, they stink, «fuckin’ shit», like the Mayhem that’s on Metal Massacre VI*, they really stink, their music isn’t destructive like ours is at all, they don’t deserve this name, I hate them!!

D.O.D: I heard you guys played a show, how did that go?

Euro: It was really «cool», it was at a small rock festival that had around 3-400 «discofucks» (NDLR: this is the censored translation) and when we went on stage with our first session vocalist “Messiah”, we broke a bass over their mouths!! We gave these idiots hell!! Ha ha!! (I’ll link the show he’s referring to below)

D.O.D: And how did your other gigs go?

Euro: For now this has been our only show!! And we don’t know how the crowds will react at the prospect of future gigs.

D.O.D: Fair. Since we’re talking about future gigs, what will those be like?

Euro: They’ll be full of occult things, we’ll play in complete darkness and there’ll be red blood spots, chandeliers, smoke, and pig heads on stakes, it’ll be totally thrashing!!

D.O.D: How’s the Norwegian thrash scene? It’s pretty dull, no?

Euro: Right now, «it sucks», there’s no audience, but it seems to be going in the right direction with bands like Vomit*, Septic Cunts, Decay Lust, and Flowers in The Dustbin.

D.O.D: And what kind of things are your lyrics about?

Euro: depravity, like tearing someone’s (bleep), eating worms, and all those fine things!!

D.O.D: What are your favourite bands?

Euro: Really hard question, there’s so many good bands coming out but I think the bands I like the most are old Venom, Deathchamber, Sodom, Necrophagia, Destruction, Death, Kreator, Poison. (No, not THAT Poison)

D.O.D: Do you ever listen to hardcore?

Euro: «Yeah» I like Chaotic Discord, Septic Death, UK Subs, and others. It hasn’t been that long since I went to see Disorder and it was awesome!!

D.O.D: Are you considering going on tour?

Euro: No, not exactly. But soon we’ll play at a Norwegian thrash festival. We’ll also play at a thrash festival in Copenhagen, and probably do a few shows with Kreator/Necrophagia in ‘87.

(No, this isn’t a typo on my end, it actually says ‘87. There’s two reasons why this might be the case. One, it could be an error on the part of the editor, who deserves an interview of his own, or two, it could be an error by Euronymous himself since the interview might have been conducted in January. Euronymous could have mixed the years up as one sometimes does. However, ‘Death Crush’, the demo, actually came out in March of ‘87. What the interviewer and Euronymous are referring to as ‘Death Crush’ is likely ‘Death Rehearsal’, which is exactly what it sounds like, and was taped back January of ‘87.)

D.O.D: I heard you guys are recording a new demo, is it ready?

Euro: We just entered the studio to record the second “Death Crush” demo, but at the moment, we only have three songs. I’m also unsure of whether or not we’ll have enough money to record anything else, and the vocals still haven’t been put to music!!

D.O.D: There’s some rumours that you guys were contacted by certain record labels, is this true?

Euro: It’s true, we got a letter from Axe killer records saying that they were interested in us but they never listened to our music and I also sent them our demo tape but I don’t believe we’ll be receiving any letters from them now!!

D.O.D: Do you have anything to add?

Euro: Of course, «fucking ARGHHHH!!»

There, that’s all :)

If you’re interested in some of the asterisks I put in, here they are in order of their appearances:

*Unlike most of the bands Euronymous named in this interview, NYC Mayhem (and later as Straight Ahead) never released more than a few demo. They were a straight edge band from, you guessed it, NYC— Queens to be exact. Despite never releasing a full album, their sound inspired some grindcore and death metal bands, notably Carcass. They were also straight edge, which makes Euronymous’ mental breakdown over the Mayhem that was on Metal Massacre very, very ironic. Especially considering he was pretty straight edge himself, especially back in 1987– outside of maybe smoking some pot.

Here is their 1985 demo, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3geR1JbY4

*Metal Massacre is a series of compilation albums starting in 1982, released by Metal Blade records. Typically, these were independent and unsigned bands. Some notable ones include Metallica on the first edition with ‘Hit the lights’. Slayer in ‘83 with ‘Aggressive Perfector’. The ‘84 edition had Voivod, Overkill, and Hellhammer.

The one which Euronymous is referring to, however, is the one from ‘85. Here it is, the timestamp is 14:19 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HqwfsLvLvuY

It’s really not that bad— certainly not worth the double exclamation points.

*If you don’t know who Vomit are, you must not know much about early Mayhem. They were another thrash band who shared rehearsal space with Mayhem. Torben Grue and Kittil Kittilsen (what a sad fucking name) were also ‘in’ Mayhem at some point. Kittil once shaved off his eyebrow, but I don’t know why. Here is a picture of the dork:

The show Euronymous is talking about: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mjay2Lmj9C8 yes, this is the show where Euronymous flashes his ass. I think it’s funny because he talks big but he seemed very hesitant to do it, and practically ducked backstage afterwards. Necro, on the other hand, was very proud to have broken his bass.

Well, that’s all I have. If you read this far, I hope you enjoyed the additional notes I left. Outside of a few more interviews of Mayhem, I also have a few obscure Emperor interviews that were posted to the internet in late 90s. There’s an especially funny one where Faust is allowed to interview Ihsahn and Samoth from prison. He’s sarcastic the entire time, refers to the readers as ‘morons’ and proclaims everyone should all die in a nuclear war with the same energy you cross yourself with. Overall, it’s a funny read. I also have one where he interviews Varg, and Euronymous (separately) for his own ‘zine back in the early 90s. Actually— I have A LOT of interviews of Faust for some reason, including two where he’s actually on camera. I might post them if I feel like it, or if somebody wants them. Is anyone here an especially big fan of Faust?

Last but not least, here is the link to the ‘zine:

http://france.metal.museum.free.fr/revues/fanzines/decibel_of_death/04/page_03.htm

#euronymous #mayhem #interview #black metal #true norwegian black metal #I typed this out so it’s mine #Euronymous interview #gee I really hope nobody else posted a translation of this because it took forever #can we make haaafuckinghah a thing?

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innittowinit · 4 years ago

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Can you pick me up my uni burnt down?

Relationships: Sleepy bois inc (all fics i write are platonic)

Summary: In which Techno goes to England for University, his building catches fire in the night, and he isn't prepared for the difference in climate between England and California. SBI fluff ensues

Words: 1785

Language: English

Ao3 Link

3:30am was when the alarms went off, pulling all of the students out of their dorms and into the bitterness of the night. Techno had barely had enough time to get himself looking decent before someone was pounding on his door and telling him to hurry up, that it wasn’t a drill, and so he pulled on some socks, not even bothering with finding his shoes, and rushed out towards the hallway to see a very distraught looking girl, they had a few classes together but he’d never bothered to learn het name. She was probably going door to door and grabbing all the people who the alarm hadn’t woken, that was sweet, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that she felt she had to stay to wait for him though.

And so now he was standing outside, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of socks. Being from california, he hadn’t really been prepared for just how bad nights in the UK could get and now he was paying the price as the icy wind numbed his skin and the snow pelted down like there was no tomorrow. He looked back at the school as an administrator read off names from a register, there were larger than life flames bursting out of windows in the west building.

“Techno Blade? Is Mr Blade here?” “Present!”

After getting himself marked in he was left to himself, sitting on a bench that was wet with newly brushed off snow. Most of the other Students were calling parents or family members to come collect them, which only really filled him with dread. It was just now setting in that the school wasn’t just going to let them back indoors once the firemen handled the fire, he’d have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. It wasn’t exactly as if he could just call his parents to pick him up when he was in a different country completely.

With a sigh, he scrolled through his contact list. He had a lot of friends in the UK but which ones lived the closest and which ones would still be awake at this hour of the night. Tommy was probably the closest but he was not about to ask a 16 year old if he could spend the night at his place. Next was Wilbur, he was about a 30 minute drive away and while he felt absolutely horrible about having to get his friend’s help, he didn’t really have a choice. Hesitantly, he pressed the call button. He wasn’t sure what it was but phone calls gave him so much more anxiety than discord ones, even when he was calling his friend.

After 3 rings, he got an answer.

“Techno!” The brunette’s ever enthusiastic voice chirped, it sounded warm and happy, a stark contrast to the oppressing chill that Techno was enduring right now. “Hellooo..you busy right now?” “Not insanely, I’ve got Phil here helping me with recording the new song though. You good man? Shouldn’t you be asleep? class in the morning and all that” “Yeah about that.. I kinda,, need a place to stay for the night?” he sucked in his breath, anticipating rejection, he hated asking for help like this, it made him feel so weak. “The school is sorta up in flames” “Say the line Techno, it’ll be funny. Say it and i'll come get you” “...wow i wonder if it’s a baby boy or a baby girl”

With a hearty laugh he heard some rustling on the other side of the phone, he heard Phil's voice too but it wasn’t clear. He guessed Will was telling him what had happened anyway. After a while Wilbur spoke to him again. “Phil’s gonna drive out to get you since his car’s heating actually works, you better fit into the same clothes as me since I'm sending him with a change for you. Maybe see if you can wait inside a shop or something while he’s driving; because of the snow, i’d say maybe like 45 minutes till he’s there”

Techno nodded, taking a few seconds to realise that his friends couldn’t actually see him. “Yeah, thanks Will, i’ll let you get back to your song now”

He took his phone away from his ear but he really wished he hadn't, without his friends keeping him company the only thing he had to focus on was how painstakingly cold it was. His arms and legs were both bright red, aching to move them at all, god he regretted his pyjama choice. Pulling his knees up to his chest, feet rested on the bench, then wrapped his arms around his legs, desperate for any kind of warmth as he shivered endlessly. Techno wasn’t quite sure what it was about the cold but it always made him feel very sleepy, that mixed with it being so late at night wasn’t really helping at all

Head pounding, he looked back down to his phone, it was hard to move his fingers and the snow kept wetting his screen, but at least it was a distraction, something he could keep his mind on for at least some of the long 45 minute wait.

======================== ========================

Techno hadn’t even realised it when Phil arrived, he was glad the School administrators were on top of things because he would have just left him sitting there had it not been for a woman that came over to tell him his ‘dad’ was here to get him. Opening his mouth, he intended to spout off about how he wasn’t related to Phil but decided against it. He didn’t want to pick up a fuss and plus, the warm car was right there!

He got up off the bench, only really having his phone with him, and made his way to his friend’s car, his face made an expression of discomfort as he had to walk through the snow in wet socks but at least he’d be warm soon.

Phil had already laid a towel out on the seat, sighing in relief, Techno collapsed into the car. Only now realising this was the first time he was meeting his friends in real life. “I’m guessing i got the right guy then?” Phil chuckled, passing Techno a towel to dry off his hair with. “God you must be freezing with that outfit. We can sit here for a bit while you get comfortable”

Though he wasn’t talking an awful lot, Techno was incredibly grateful, here and back meant Phil had to drive over an hour. He’d have to remember to pay him back for gas. “Thanks Phil” he sighed, ruffling his hair with a towel, it felt so much better to be able to dry off and warm up again.

Next he was given a hoodie and some joggers, which Phil promised to close his eyes as he changed into them. The hoodie was fine, it was about the size he would usually buy for himself, but he had to admit the bottoms were a bit long; he’d always thought of himself as tall but didn’t Wilbur claim to be 6’5? Yeah he was sure he wasn’t going to be the tallest there by a couple inches.

The drive back to Wilbur’s was peaceful, they stopped in the Starbucks drive-through to grab them both a warm drink, and while Techno wasn’t really the kind of person to frequent Starbucks, he wasn’t in any position to deny warmth right now. He ended up just getting a hot chocolate, bundling himself up in the seat with the blanket Wilbur had sent with Phil, and finally feeling content. He had imagined meeting his friends so many times, he always imagined he’d end up getting overwhelmed and needing to step out but right now he just felt genuinely happy, he felt cared for. He knew if he was back at home right now, while his parents would have still come for him, they would have complained the entire time about how he was old enough to figure it out for himself, he certainly wouldn’t have been given dry clothes and a blanket.

“You’re really nice Phil” Mumbled a very very sleepy Techno, eyes glazed over as he tried his hardest to stay awake for the entire ride.

Phil just chuckled, the GPS said they were nearly at will’s, he was sure he’d want to see Will before falling asleep anyway, plus he didn't think he’d be strong enough to carry him in. “You gotta stay up a little longer for me mate, we’re almost there, i know you’d usually be sleeping at this time”

Arriving at Wilbur's house felt a little weird, opening the car door hit him with a strong breeze that only seemed to make him even more delirious as he tried to figure out how to stand up without dropping his blanket on the floor. Eventually he got it, bundling it up in his arms he gave a big yawn, becoming a little more awake as he tried to push the sleep away. No matter how much he wanted to just go straight to bed he knew he’d need to talk to his friend first, it would be a little rude to come to his home and not even speak to him.

Since Techno’s hands were full with the blanket that had been wrapped around him, Phil grabbed his towel and wet clothes before locking the car and leading the way inside; by this time it was past 4 in the morning and he was sure they were all just exhausted.

Honestly he wasn’t sure what he had expected Wilbur’s house to look like, it was clean he supposed. Listen, he was an English major, not some kind of house furniture major, he didn't really care what Wilbur had in his home.

“Hey mate, got Tech’” Phil stated as he flopped down on the sofa, leaving Techno to sit on the other side of Will, who had been watching some kind of movie, it looked like maybe it could be one of those sappy musical lovey dovey ones but he really didn’t care that much.

“How you doing Techno Blade?” Will yawned, laying his legs over Techno’s lap and his head on Phil's shoulder.

“Not too bad Wilbur Soot, what are you watching?” Another yawn, he ran a hand through his pink hair, chucking his crown onto the floor as he unfolded the blanket he had been snuggled into during the car ride, spreading it out across the three men.

“No clue, just wanted to wait up for you” The brunette closed his eyes, still awake but barely

“You're an idiot”

#sbi #sleepyboisinc #sleepyblr #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #fanfic

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a-dragons-journal · 4 years ago

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My Experiences of Nonhumanity

I get asked about “what makes you/people in general feel you’re/they’re otherkin” a lot, and while the answer is far from simple and my experiences are anything but universal, I figure it deserves a write-up once in a while. A friend asked about it a couple nights ago, so I wrote up a huge long message on Discord, and decided to rewrite it into a Tumblr post for posterity. This’ll be a long one, folks; hit J on desktop to skip.

It’s worth noting ahead of time: none of these things are required to be otherkin, and none of them automatically mean you’re otherkin. In fact, most of them are little more than mildly “weird” quirks when they occur in isolation, and only start to push outside the range of “normal human experiences” when many of them occur together. You can’t look at someone (including yourself) and say “they like collecting things, they must be dragonkin!” It’s not that simple. You have to take the individual as a whole even as you examine each specific experience in more detail - don’t lose the forest while you’re studying the trees. This is just a description of my personal experiences.

Shifts

- Phantom shifts/supernumerary phantom limbs: Probably the most obvious thing and the hardest to brush off, although I still managed to do so for years. Phantom shifts, aka supernumerary phantom limbs, are the experience of feeling limbs or body parts that do not and never have physically existed. In my case, the most common phantom limbs to show up are my wings and tail; other body parts, such as digitigrade legs, horns, snout, and paws/talons, also make appearances less frequently. While my phantom limbs almost never attempt to replicate tactile sensations/interactions with the physical world, they’re often defined by very vivid proprioception (ability to tell where your body is in space, mainly via muscle stretch receptors), and I can tell where each part of the limb is at any given time - it’s not just a shapeless sense of “weight,” or it wouldn’t be phantom limbs. I can also move them at will, typically. My phantom shifts are typically spontaneous and involuntary, but they’ve been induced artificially a couple different ways as well, though I can’t typically do it at will.

- Sensory shifts: Still not something I’m totally sure I experience, but there are definitely times my sense of smell becomes insanely strong compared to usual even for me, which fits the definition of a sensory shift.

- Astral shifts: While I’m far from an adept astral traveler, when visualizing “traveling” within my own mindscape, I shift form fluidly between human and dragon - although I almost always have wings at the very least.

- Cameo shifts: Mentioned only because it’s relevant to my phantom shifts. I realized at some point that the reason I get cameo shifts of canine/feline ears sometimes is because they usually show up when they’re pricking/flattening to express emotion, and the muscles that move to do that action are basically the same as the ones that do those actions with the crest that runs down my neck, and because of my obsession with cats/dogs/horses as a young child and because that’s not a particularly strong phantom shift for me usually, I connected the dots a little wrong and created a false association.

- Self-image: This isn’t technically a shift, but it’s going here anyway because it doesn’t really fit in any other section either. My body image/self-image is weird. I know, consciously, what I physically look like. However, my instinctive self-image is... hmm. What I “expect” to see doesn’t always match up with what’s actually there when I look in the mirror. Teeth are a huge point of fixation for me for some reason; I always expect them to be larger, sharper, stronger. I expect my neck to be longer, my face to be... different. I expect scales in places. I expect claws. Even knowing consciously that of course it won’t be there, it’s still strange sometimes that it’s not. There’s sometimes some mild disconnect when I see myself. (Sometimes not. But sometimes.)

Homesickness

(Or, the sense of missing something you’ve never had - not of “I want/want to be [x], and it makes me sad/upset that I don’t have/am not that,” but of “I should have/be [x], and it is fundamentally wrong that I do/am not.”)

- Flight: I have always wanted to fly, and for a long time I thought everyone ached for the sky the same way I did. Most people don’t, as it turns out. Yes, everyone’s fantasized about flying, but most people don’t feel bones-deep, crushing, physical pain in their chest thinking about it. Most people don’t lift up onto their toes instinctively straining for the sky. I’ve felt that aching longing for it for as long as I can remember.

- Connection to dragons: For as long as I can remember knowing about dragons, I loved the idea of them and even when I was very young, when I’d only really been exposed to media where they were the great evil for the hero to defeat and received no more character development than “evil, destructive, fire-breathing beast,” I was always on the dragon’s side and wanted to learn more about them. That hasn’t faded. I’ll watch an absolutely terrible movie or TV show that I otherwise loathe if it has good enough animation and sound design on the dragons. (Looking at you, Game of Thrones.*) I would commit arson to see one of those Isle-style dragon survival games actually go through and finish production. (Holding out hope for the Dragon Game Project on YouTube; go check them out if you haven’t already.) I’ve also used dragons to represent myself for pretty much as long as I’ve had an online presence - years before I ever heard of otherkin, I was calling myself Dragonheart.

- Dragon-like creatures: Snakes, crocodilians, and dinosaurs all fall into this category - all of them give me a similar heart-and-breathing-pick-up, aching familiarity to dragons. They’re not perfect, but in a snake’s scales and a crocodile’s bellows and a dinosaur’s spectacular reptilian size I see echoes of us and I have always loved them with a passion, even before I quite knew why.

- Dragon/”monster” noises: Sound generators, creature sound design, real animal noises, etc. that are meant to be monstrous and that most people find unsettling or even frightening, I find comforting and relaxing. Alligator bellows, “monster noise” soundscapes, etc. all apply here.

* No shade on anyone who likes Game of Thrones, I’m just not a fan. :P

Behaviors/Instincts/Urges

- Hoarding: I’m still not sure how much of the crystal thing is "monkey brain say Shiney Colorful," how much is a witch thing, and how much is a dragon thing, but some of it is a dragon thing.

- Territorial/possessive nature: I can get... extremely territorial over my stuff and my home. This can extend right into being ridiculously protective of my people too, although I do try to rein that in to a reasonable amount. This also extends into games like Capture the Flag, because put me on defending the border during middle and high school and I got frighteningly territorial. (Fun fact, this extends to spiritual protection stuff and it has almost gotten me in trouble a few times on that front.) The other main side effect is my brain trying to claim completely inappropriate things as “mine,” like every piano I have ever touched or, that one time, the entire city of Portland.

- Prey drive: Going on a walk in the woods with me will always be an exercise in stopping every twenty seconds because I heard a small animal move in the brush and froze instinctively to track it. Prey drive ranges from "okay I can indulge this enough to track-stalk-chase without actually intending to catch-kill-eat" to "this is entirely inappropriate and needs to Stop Right Now" depending on the day and the situation - sometimes it’s fairly low-key and innocent, but sometimes it's also being confronted with the sudden and completely serious/genuine thought of grabbing someone or something by the neck/around the body with your jaws and hunt-prey-kill-devour when it's completely inappropriate and kind of disturbing or even sickening. It’s one of the more annoying things, although it’s not like it’s severe enough that I’m an actual danger to anyone - it’s just a gut thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level without significant problems. This also bleeds into games (I get... maybe a little overenthusiastic during tag) and even watching TV shows or gaming videos - most of the time at least part of me is rooting for the hunter because I relate to them as a fellow predator, even if the audience is supposed to be rooting for the prey - I mean, protagonists.

- Basking/heat-seeking: Probably only partially a dragon thing, but despite the fact that I hate heat in general, radiant/sun heat and heat from a heated surface are both fantastic feelings provided the ambient air temperature isn't too high. I'm guessing this is at least partially a reptile brain thing.

- Height-seeking: Give me a chance to climb up on top of something - a rock, a cliff, a chair, a table, a bunk bed - and look out over everything else, and I'll take it in an instant. Getting to climb up on the roof is the best thing that's happened to me this entire quarantine.

- Flight instinct: Being mildly leery of cliffs not because I am afraid of falling, because I'm really not, but because there's always some part of my brain that goes "jump, fly, this is a perfect takeoff spot" and I have to squash that before I do something particularly stupid. This manifests in other ways, but that's the most dramatic (and annoying) one. This is also one of the things I noticed as definitively not normal long before my awakening. (The Grand Canyon was fun.) Similarly to the prey drive thing, it's not like I'm actually in danger of throwing myself off cliffs, it’s just - there's a not-insignificant part of my brain that thinks "hey we should go run and jump off and take a quick flight," in the same way I might also casually think "hey I should stroll across to the corner store for a bag of chips" before I consciously decide whether or not to do that. It’s the exact same type of thought process, despite the fact that one of those things is something I might do on any given school day, and the other is, you know, physically impossible.

- Combat instincts: I get in a fight and my pure instinct is to bite or claw, not kick or punch or whatever it is humans do instinctively. I have those reflexes now courtesy of Krav, but I had to train them in - if you’d thrown me into a fight before, I absolutely would have resorted to claws/nails and teeth immediately (and I still will, when pressed into a corner). Sometimes, unfortunately, this goes off completely unwarranted, either in an anger situation that does not deserve a physical response, or for no apparent reason whatsoever. It's one of the more problematic things, but once again - it’s not like it’s a compulsion, just a gut-emotion thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level.

- Scent focus: Who knows how much of this is environmental influence and how much is instinctive, but I always have and still do focus on scent more than most humans seem to. I can identify people by scent, I seem to pay more attention to it than most people do. I also seem less bothered by natural body smells than most people do, but considering the responses when I asked around in the otherkin community once about that, unclear whether or not that's connected.

- Nonhuman noises: I make just a bunch of weird nonhuman noises, and always have. Growls, hisses, croons, hurrs, throat-clicks, chirps, etc. I've never met any human who does them instinctively like I do except my half-sister (whom I didn’t meet until a couple years ago), and she was just as surprised to hear me do it as I was surprised to hear her do it.

- Affection: Face-rubbing, light head-bonking against someone’s shoulder/body/head, and love nips/bites are all perfectly acceptable ways to show platonic affection, to dragon brain. Human society disagrees. The instinct to do these things is so strong that I definitely do give into the first two with people I’m close with, and I have physically had to catch and restrain myself when I was about to unthinkingly bite/nip someone’s skin because I wasn’t paying enough attention.

- Movement: Moving on all fours just feels better than moving on two legs, even though it’s objectively physically uncomfortable because humans aren’t built for that. I also have the instinctive want to be a lot more flexible than I’m capable of being, in ways I’m not capable of being - curling all the way around something or someone to squeeze them tight in the coil of my body, turning my head a hundred eighty degrees because my neck Should Be Longer.

- Expression: Baring one’s teeth when frustrated, irritated, or angry is not a particularly human instinct. I realize it’s something a lot of primates do do, but. *gestures at society* Humans ain’t one of them, at least not anymore. Even in Krav Maga, which is a self-defense style that focuses on being vicious and “dirty fighting” to survive a real street fight, every single time I have a new partner (and most times I have a partner I’ve worked with before) and I get tired enough to get snarly, they respond with some variation of “god that’s scary”. See also: gesturing at things with my nose because it should be long enough to make that a much more dramatic gesture than it ends up being.

- Den/lair/small spaces: I never feel safer than when curled up in a tiny alcove just big enough to comfortably fit my body curled up into it. The only position I’ll prioritize over it is getting up onto a high space.

Past Life Work

Unlike every other bullet point on this list, most of these didn’t apply until I started actively seeking them out, because, you know. Past life memories are like that.

- Past life regressions: I’ve got a tag for these, but tl;dr I take anything I learn from a past life regression or similar meditation/visualization with a whole spoonful of salt, forget “a grain,” because I know for a fact my brain is very good at making stuff up with these types of exercises. Unfortunately, they’re the only way to get information on certain things, like appearance.

- Tarot: Got a tag for that too. I use tarot to ask questions and confirm or reject suspicions.

- Spontaneous memories: I don’t have many, but they’re clear as day when they do appear. I don’t count something as a “true” memory unless it includes senses I can’t reproduce through imagination - smell and touch, mainly. Mostly these are quick flashbulbs, nothing cinematic or anything like that.

- Noemata: Again, I don’t have much in the way of noemata, but what I do have is persistent and consistent. I know things about my wing shape and flight style despite not having really experienced that in detail during past life regressions. That particular set of noemata has been confirmed to fit with real-world physics and bat wing shapes (the closest wing type to mine that exists or has existed on Earth).

#think that about sums it up #otherkin #dragonkin #this got real long #long post #journaling #rani talks #feel free to reblog if you like

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lnarizakis · 4 years ago

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SAM HIT 1K !

hey, everyone! a few days ago i hit 1k followers and i’m so excited to share with you all this news! it’s been six months of writing, posting, and making new friends, and i’ve recognized the results of all of my efforts. thank you to everyone who’s been with me on this journey, even if i met you in march, or just yesterday!

i acknowledge that in the past i’ve been selfish and self-conscious about that number, but everyday i’m grateful that i have a growing number of people who have my back, supporting me, even if it’s through a simple like or even an anonymous ask telling me they really enjoyed a particular work of mine.

and, with everything you do in life, you encounter people who will support you, make your life better, and just know how to help you up when you’ve fallen: friends. that being said, i want to write a letter to all the friends i’ve made on here since i don’t know when i’ll be able to get the next chance to . . .

TRIS , i remember seeing you appear in the comments of almost all of my posts and i just want to thank you personally for always supporting what i have. you don’t realize how much every little comment means to me, really! it always puts a smile on my face to see you comment something and it feels like i’ve accomplished something, so thank you. @tris-does-stuff

HANA , you really don’t know how happy you’ve made me when you told me you were a fan of mine. it just... shocked me? to know that i have people out there that genuinely support what i do? we only really started talking for a couple of days but i feel a strong connection between the two of us (it really may be our matching mbti types, too!) and i’m so glad to be able to call you my friend. you didn’t hear this from me, but i constantly look back at the #anon makes me happy tag and read through those anonymous messages you sent me. i love them (and you) very much! @wansseul

ELLIOT , i know you as one of my biggest supporters for coaches don’t play, and i find that really heartwarming to see that even after, what, two months since i’ve updated, you reblogged it with the tag #thank you for updating! ! i was so happy to see that, and you even proceeded to send in an ask about it afterwards too! i know we don’t really talk often—but i definitely think we should— but i know that you’re so incredibly sweet, especially after i was having that rough slump of mine i think last month. you were so kind to tell me that you’d always be here if i need to talk with someone, so thank you very much. i’m very grateful to have met you! @keiyoomi

JJ , hey, jj!!! i know we haven’t talked in a hot second, but look! i’ve reached 1k followers! i remember you were around during my coaches don’t play days, and that you always sent an ask after almost every update. sometimes i fiind myself looking back at them and smiling, knowing that you were enjoying what i wrote, so thank you very much! i want to say another thank you for being there for me when i was feeling really down in the dumps, and for taking the time out of your day to write me a message on discord. i’m so grateful that you did so, and i hope life treats you well. also! i began reading the great gatsby for school, so we should talk about it sometime hehehe. @kunimwuah

DOVE , aka uvogin anon, dovey lovey, my favorite inbox invader! i . honestly don’t know how we met. like one day u just appeared in my inbox and BAM ! we started talking! and i don’t regret every single thing i send into your inbox (even beany cock) . i always look forward to whenever you send things in my inbox and i really mean it when i say you’re my favorite inbox invader >:) it makes me so happy to see you active on tumblr and to see what you bring me everyday. i am very grateful you’re in my life, and i hope we continue to talk more and more! @fantasiesofdreams

SAL , i remember the first time i talked with you! you liked one of my posts and i was like oh she seems cool, i’m gonna follow her and congratulate her on 400 followers. and soon enough, we started tagging each other in those tag games and later we just grew closer and closer! i’m so happy that we got really close and it always brightens my day to see you on my dash; you never fail to put a smile on my face. thank you so much for being my friend and always being there when i need a good laugh! @sugaanoya

AI , ai, ai love you! i remember following you for your “be my boyfriend” series, and i hope it continues on your new blog (no promises, of course!). i also was there during your blank kita era, and it was honestly something that made me laugh out loud. i’m pretty sure i turned on notifications for you at that point because i was so invested with this drama. you’re just an insanely nice person whose kindness rivals your love for suna (or is it sakusa? your disloyalty, tsk... just kidding!!!). i know that we haven’t talked a whole lot lately but i will be sure to hop in your inbox and stay for a while some time soon. thank you so much for being my friend and i hope you stay happy and healthy! @wiintiier

KAI , aka caca wife! i remember when we started talking on rircus, and at first i didn’t really know who you were, until one fateful night when the conversation about caca happened. at that moment i knew we had similar senses of humor and i remember that i couldn’t stop laughing. it was the caca madness! if i’m being completely honest, i look up to you as a big sister that i’ve never had and i really appreciate you for that, so thank you for being in my life! @lcaita

NAOMI , aka newmie! i remember we first started talking in rircus and i want to thank you for welcoming me so kindly in the server, and especially during the first night we talked, which is when i had a problem and you helped me out immensely. i just want to say thank you for every time that you’ve helped me, talked to me, and made me feel better when i felt less than okay. i’m so glad that i’ve met you and i hope you accomplish great things in your life. @kuraomi

MICKIE , probably one of the only people on discord whose mesages i find myself laughing at a lot. you’re always brightening up the mood wherever you go, and i always find myself looking towards what you have to say today. thanks for that! i also think about that (may i say, really funny) exchange between the two of us on here when you went: “oh god i can’t believe HE’S almost dead ahhh” and i have no idea who you were talking about so i went “omg it’s sero,” and you went on this LONG RANT and it was just so funny to me!!! thanks for always putting a smile on my face. and also! thank you so, so much for suggesting that i get curtain bangs, a decision i really don’t regret! i was afraid i was going to hate them, but i find myself looking in the mirror a lot and thinking: “wow, that is a whole different person.” in a good way! so thank you very much. @tokyoghoose

GERE , aka my ex-wife... sorry about that :( . i never got to say sorry for that but the caca bond runs strong, i hope you understand. i just want you to know how much of a kind person you are, and especially how welcoming you are, too. i was so glad to be welcomed so kindly in your server and it’s become one of my favorites to talk in. i also want you to know, that especially with current times, that things will get better and i’m so glad you’re staying positive with everything going on recently. i love you for you, please remember that!!! @t-amajiki

ISSA , omg, girly pop. hahahaha!!! issa, you’re such a genuine person and i remember meeting you for the first time on rircus. you welcomed me with open arms and you were just the kindest person i met on there. you’re someone who’s just so beautiful inside and out, and the way you’re so large and in charge with your feelings is something i really admire about you. i know we don’t talk so often, but i hope we do. i want to thank you for being my friend, and especially always making me laugh! i love you very much, issa! @indigohitoshi

KYLIE , kylie!!!! the co-founder of our son, iwaizumi hajime. this was literally peak popularity and i knew i was never to get as many notifications as i did in that moment. of everyone i could have shared the account with, i am so glad that i was able to do it with you because we were able to grow closer because of that. now we have this weird inside joke that our son gets mad cooch, and that every day we must think of in another life. where are the daily in another life tiktoks??? of course, our son isn’t the only thing i associate with you. you’re such a kind, hilarious, and genuine person, and to be honest, sometimes i really worry for your wellbeing. get some more sleep, kyl!!! you deserve it. i want you to be grucchi, not tired and wanting to die. thank you so, so much for being my friend, and i am so happy that i met you! @peppermintkiddo

TO, LIKE, EVERYONE FROM RIRCUS , the best people i could ever meet. i’m sorry i couldn’t write an individual letter to all of you, since we haven’t interacted so often for me to pick out one specific memory that i could hold and cherish, but know that every time i come on rircus and talk with you, it is a moment that i will always remember! thank you so much for being my friends and i love you all so, so incredibly much. @kaoyuuuuu @reogou @haikyuu-but-low-iq @yooooooooooomi @samdwich @kenmauwus @shirasusgf @macaronnv @king-kawa

TO EVERYONE THAT CONSTANTLY LIKES, REBLOGS, OR COMMENTS ON MY WORK , you know who you are. i know who you are. i can literally tag you right now. but i think i’ll prefer to keep the anonymity. thank you so much for sharing my work, giving me feedback, and everything. it mean so much to me, especially if there’s a comment attached to the reblog. you make me do a little happy dance!!! i love you so much for what you do and i hope you continue to support me in every way possible!

FOR PEOPLE THAT I MISS/PROBABLY WON’T READ THIS

MEL , hi mel! i’m not very sure if you will read this, but i am so happy that i met you and that we began talking. i remember we began talking after i asked for people to send in memes for that meme war against my sister. i told you i won, right? well, i did. ahhaha anyways, i am very sad that we sort of grew apart and i hope that we can begin talking again soon. you were the highlight of my spring semester. i enjoyed talking with you so much. but i hope that you and your family are currently doing well and that you stay happy and healthy! i miss you very much, melon, thank you for being a part of my life!

RAENAH , hi rae! i think meeting you was a blessing, to be honest. i can’t remember a time when i was utterly annoyed by your presence, nor was i ever mad with you. you are such a kind person with such a pure heart, and during your time on tumblr you really showcased it for everyone to see. you were literally with me from literally the very beginning, during the “my name is...” days, and all i can say is that i am blessed to have met you! thank you so much for lighting up my life, talking to me whenever you made the time, and especially playing minecraft with me. it was so fun, even if it was for a short while. i hope you had as much fun as i had! again, thank you so much for supporting, befriending, and getting to know me because i will never forget you on tumblr dot com. i hope you stay well and make sure you rest often, especially with uni! @a-kaashi

MIYU , where has miyu gone? just kidding. i know you’re there. i hope you read this because i don’t want to tag your new blog. anyways, i just want you to know you make my dash ten times better. it’s literally so boring without you spicing it up, with you talking with anons and your mutuals. i definitely think i should invade your inbox more, what do you think? when i was starting on tumblr, you were a very big inspiration to me and i am very proud of all the works you write. you still are someone i look up to as a writer, because you have such a creative spirit and it makes me so happy you’re able to showcase it for everyone to see. i hope you are staying healthy and well right now, and thank you so much for being my friend!

GIGI , poop. i genuinely miss you very much, but i know that school takes a priority for you. i hope you’re doing well with your classes and that you find the man of your dreams. hopefully it is not the skater boy because you deserve someone as insanely hot as kurapika. no cap. i remember during my chrollo pfp guy craze you were there to deter me away from liking him, but let me just tell you, we’re getting closer tbh. ;) . just kidding, we really aren’t, but we’ve been talking quite a bit. i also want to tell you that you’re someone who’s made me smile with everything you say, and i find myself sometimes typing the way you do. you’re an influence, gigi! please stay happy and healthy and make sure you get lots of rest during your time at school! @gigiwrite

MARS , best for last, am i right? i’m not really sure when i first saw you on my blog, but i remember you’ve been here for a very, very long time. i think it was back in july when we first started talking. you were 🦊 anon, and it made me so happy to read that you felt comfortable enough to reveal yourself! from there, i knew we had a bond from the way we interacted with one another. you’re just such a kind person and you show that to everyone you meet. it’s a quality i wish i had in myself and i really look up to you for your genuinity. sometimes i feel like i don’t thank you enough for how kind you are to me, but just know that with every time i talk i’m always grateful that you’re in my life and that i’ve met you. i know you’re someone i can always lean on and i hope you see me the same. thank you so much for being in my life; you’re someone who means a lot to me. @maru5hka

TO BASICALLY EVERYONE HERE

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1K!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. i am so grateful for each and every one of you; you guys are so hot and sexy. i am so grateful to have met you all, even if it was just a simple “you’re added to the taglist!” or a “thank you so much!” i count it as you being my friend and you interacting with me. you guys aren’t my followers; you’re my friends. thank you so much for being my friend and being here for all of my weird shenanigans i have up my sleeve, whether it be my meme war against my sister, my obsession for blue lock, and my huge crush on chrollo pfp guy. well, here’s to me for being sappy and here’s to many more!

#sam’s 1k party #no im not doing anything i just wanted to give it a label #discord server maybe

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