#the game is called Old World i actually have been greatly enjoying it and even made a mod for it its a 4x but yeah

[sandandlightning]

Okay well, I just got keikaku means plan'd by, I shit you not, a video game deciding to liberally use ancient Egyptian. It's uh... Been interesting. I'm a little in pain tbh.

But I am going to use the opportunity to share some research/a hot take on a hot take!

the thing that really is getting me is this recent assertain that Kemet is a WHOLLY INCORRECT PRONUNCIATION and the ACTUAL ONE is... *Checks notes* ...kumat. (spoilers they're both technically wrong ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

So we use Kemet a lot. Here's the thing. Most Egypt writing systems didn't really do vowels so a literal transliteration of a hieroglyph is kmt. (Which is what the game is using which they really shouldn't be because it's not actually legible this is like a mid point for people romanizing something but anyway >>)

The reason we know what ancient Egyptian words sounded like is Coptic! This was more an every day system of writing (also later but we gotta take that) opposed to hieroglyphs. Right? Cool. It's kinda close ish to Greek. Like... Greek letters, but to the left.

And you might be thinking 'but if we have the Coptic name, we know how it's pronounced right?' well yes, but actually no, because sometimes people decide they've discovered something new about a dead language. Sometimes they are right, sometimes... Not so much.

In two versions of Coptic we got ⲭⲏⲙⲓ and ⲕⲏⲙⲉ.

So the x guy is (xehanort VC) like Greek chi and in this case K. The h is eeeeeeeeeeee like cheese. The m is fucking m- you can use this one to be asthetique. And the I is 'ih' like bit and the E is 'eh' like bet. Whith eh and ih bing very close.

So fun fact a t at the end of a word in Egyptian is often silent, so uh, if your wondering where that went, that's why.

So we're looking at something pretty close to the modern colonial Kemet. We drop the t and make the first e long and get keeme or kime or however ur gonna spell it.

BUT THEN IN 1997 SOME PEOPLE WROTE A BOOK

And in that book they were like, what if all the Coptic letters like X and Ø (theda basically) that have like, hint of hint of h COMPLETELY CHANGED THE VOWEL SOUND, INSTEAD OF ADDING HINT OF HINT OF H.

Mind you, they literally, in the book, don't even assert this as fact, but a strong possibility. They also use the word Kemet as an example and hit it extra hard for reason I don't understand after reading more of said book and other information on phonics and Coptic (by which I mean they change Khe- to ku but ALSO meh to mat and I am seriously confused where the t is coming from in this case, bc there is no t in the Coptic just the hieroglyph or hieratic. All other examples only change the first syllable.)

Oh and this is only addressing an older form of Coptic. A later one it is ⲕⲏⲙⲉ which like, there's no room for argument there. It's k-eeeee-m-eh keemeh/kime depending on where u are in the world and how you write it long eeeees

Anyway after this dropped a bunch of people started going 'um akchthuallyy' about the modern kemet romanization (which is not perfect admittedly, but like, it's close, recognizable, and easy to say) and even more recently we have... People accusing like... Only ignorant white people™ of using Kemet and not knowing it's 'kumat'?? Which????? I hate to break it to u friends, but the authors who came up with that pronunciation are also white people so?????

Anyway, this game I'm playing, I think, refused to put vowels in because they saw one wiki reference asserting a different pronunciation and went 'well, that's dicy, better just leave it out and offer two pronunciation' neither of which would technically be right because... They gave Kemet and Kumat. They also frequently replace arbitrary words with old Egyptian and have the translation with alt text and I am literally losing sleep over it, so here we are.

Enjoy... Very random prompted Egyptian infodump.

Edit: FORGOT TO MENTION it is written with weird hieroglyphs so neither ka or k nor kh sounds I am familiar with another reason Coptic is handy but like, my guys, there is no way the Mr M owl glyph is passive aggressively make the second half 'mat'.

[sideprince]

Eileen Prince

I'm relentlessly curious about how a witch from Slytherin, a house that values cunning and ambition on paper, and bloodlines/nobility in its culture, ended up living in a muggle slum.

Unfortunately for me, she's a barely mentioned character written by an author who consistently fails to portray female characters with depth or dimension. The women in Harry Potter are portrayed as either maternal or villains, or, in Ginny Weasley's case, as redeemed by their masculine traits (because Rowling's Thatcher era feminism dictates that equality for women = emulating patriarchal ideas of manhood). About as much as you can expect from an author who's as unable to acknowledge the personhood of trans women as she is to write women as actual people. This leaves a lot of room for interpreting or delving into what Eileen Prince's life may have looked like, and how that would have affected her son's development.

There are three direct mentions of Eileen in the text :

“The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.”

HBP Ch. 25

“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she’d given birth to a" “ — murderer,” spat Harry.

HBP ch. 30

“Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him.”

DH Ch. 33

(Shoutout to Harry James Potter, who didn't recognize Eileen's fifth year photo despite her resemblance to Snape, the teacher whose classroom he got his used Potions book from. Shoutout also to Harry James Potter who didn't connect the dots between the Prince's handwriting and Snape's, a teacher who regularly wrote instructions on the board. "I needed to make the plot work, ok?" - JK Rowling, probably.)

Other relevant excerpts:

“Snape staggered - his wand flew upwards, away from Harry - and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner ”

OoTP Ch. 26

“Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.”

HBP Ch. 16

Supplemental material re: Gobstones from JK Rowling:

"...it remains a minority sport within the wizarding world, and does not enjoy a very ‘cool’ reputation, something its devotees tend to resent. Gobstones is most popular among very young wizards and witches, but they generally ‘grow out’ of the game, becoming more interested in Quidditch as they grow older.  ... Gobstones enjoys limited popularity at Hogwarts, ranking low among recreational activities, way behind Quidditch and even Wizarding Chess." [There's an additional sentence on the Harry Potter wiki's Gobstones page: "...it is also known as 'the thinking wizard's Quidditch.'"]

A few conclusions can be drawn from what little information we're given about Eileen:

She's described as "cross and sullen" around the age of 15, and as "sallow-faced, sour-looking" when she's older.

She's captain of the Gobstones club around her fifth year, so she likely marched to the beat of her own drum - given that Gobstones isn't particularly popular - and owns it proudly enough to take, or even seek out, a leadership role.

The sport is described as "the thinking wizard's Quidditch" which would imply Eileen was more interested in intellectual challenges and was clever (and can be paralleled with a young Severus' comment about "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy" to James Potter when they first meet on the Hogwarts Express).

Her marriage and the birth of her son are both announced in the paper, which might mean the family she came from was of some importance or note, or perhaps something else... but we'll get to that.

If we assume that Severus' secondhand copy of Advanced Potion Making was originally Eileen's (reasonable, though there is no textual evidence) then its publication date is likely around the time she was a sixth year, given that this particular text was specific to students beginning to prep for N.E.W.T. exams. Harry begins his sixth year in 1996 when the book is "nearly fifty years old," so we can assume Eileen was 16 years old sometime not long after 1946. Severus was born in 1960, which would mean Eileen was in her mid-late 20s at the time.

Her marriage was dysfunctional at best, abusive at worst. As per a Pottermore post that is still up on WizardingWorld.com: "...the desperately lonely and unhappy childhood [Severus] had with a harsh father who didn’t hold back when it came to the whip." Based on this, we can assume Tobias was abusive, and given Eileen's cowering as he shouted at her, she presumably feared him.

From these bits of information emerges the image of a woman who either had a surly personality, or at the very least was guarded, though perhaps just formal. There isn't really any difference in how her face is set when she's in an everyday setting like King's Cross, or when she's having her picture taken for the Gobstones Club. It's possible she was a stern, unsmiling person, but it's also possible - given that her wedding and child were announced in the paper - that she came from a family of some standing and was raised to conduct herself with hallmarks of British class, such as dignity and unaffectedness. After all, there are several wizarding families - such as the Potters - who are wealthy purebloods with social standing but are not part of the Sacred 28. Additionally, the Gobstones Club portrait would have been taken around the mid-1940s, when portraits were formal and their subjects did not often smile, and given that we see only a snippet of Eileen, we don't have enough information that she was unhappy or sour. It's also important to remember that we see her portrait and Snape's memory of her through Harry's perspective and, like his perception of Snape himself, this may convey Harry's biases.

We also know from the text that Snape had a house in a deserted part of Cokeworth, a fictional Midlands town that presumably had a collapsed milling industry, at the end of a street called Spinner's End. There's a great thread that goes into details about the kind of 2 up 2 down house it would have been, and we can assume that this is Snape's family home given that we know he and Lily grew up in Cokeworth. For all intents and purposes, the conclusion we can draw from this being the Snape family's home in the 60s is that they were working class and cripplingly poor. Most estates like this had been cleared by the 60s, and no longer exist today.

This begs the question: how did a witch from a possibly well-off family end up in an abusive marriage in an irrelevant slum?

Buckle up kids, we're leaving the world of textual references and veering into deep meta territory now. I won't label any of this as head canon because I'm not set on these interpretations, and am just drawing conclusions from the text, but some of it may be a bit loose even for meta.

If Eileen was 16 years old not long after 1946, then she would have finished school in the late 40s, possibly even 1950. While some people (including past me) posit the theory that Tobias may have been injured in WWII and his injuries debilitated him, forcing him to go on the dole and affecting his mental health, I'm increasingly skeptical of this theory. It would make more sense if Eileen had known him before he was drafted/enlisted and had committed to a relationship with him, which would then have changed when he came back from the war and was altered. If we assume Eileen's age based on the idea that it was her own copy of Advanced Potion Making Severus used, then she would still have been at school during WWII (which makes an interesting parallel with Severus' own experience of spending the bulk of the first wizarding war against Voldemort as a student at school).

I do think, however, that there's merit in the theory that Tobias suffered some kind of altering injury and that he wasn't necessarily abusive before Eileen committed herself to him. It makes little sense for a Slytherin graduate who was confident and self-posessed enough to be the face of an unpopular club to be drawn to a partner so abusive his shouts caused her to cower and who whipped his child freely. If, however, he was a charming, happy man when they met who suffered a life-altering injury, the trauma of which left him a shell of his former self, then someone like Eileen might stick around for the sake of the parts of his old self she can still see in him.

It's interesting that she didn't seem to use her magic to protect herself or her son, or even to dress her son in clothing that fit, but we know from the text that depression can cause a wizard's powers to wane:

“...it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen”

HBP Ch. 13 (Dumbledore talking about Merope Gaunt)

The fact that the Snapes retained the house in Spinner's End seems to indicate that they continued to live there even when the local industry dried up and the slum was cleared as workers were moved to other parts of the country where they were needed (presumably what happened given *gestures at British history*). The most likely explanation for this would be that Tobias wasn't able to work, and perhaps did suffer an injury, only it was at work, and not during the war. This would mean the family lived on the dole (ie. welfare) and also that he would have spent a lot more time at home. It would also explain his anger and frustration that led to abusive behavior (which isn't to say that disabled people are abusive by any means, but it would have been emasculating for a man who considered himself the breadwinner in the 60s, and chronic pain coupled with limited abilities would give anyone a short fuse).

Moreover, this living situation seems to indicate that there is no additional support coming from anywhere. Where is Eileen's family? Why were they not helping? There's no indication in the text that there is any connection with them at all. We can infer from Snape's memories that, as a child, he learned what he knew about the magical world from his mother. This implies that she talked to him about it a fair amount, and his conviction that he and Lily were going to Hogwarts well before they got their letters also implies that Eileen expected him to go there and was set on her son having a magical education, despite how little she seemed to use her own powers.

Severus knows a lot about the wizarding world as a child, including that prisoners are sent to Azkaban and that it's guarded by Dementors, Hogwarts' house structure and what to expect when he and Lily get there, and about the Statute of Secrecy and the laws around it. When Lily asks him if it makes a difference being Muggleborn, Severus hesitates before replying no, presumably because he's aware of pureblood bias being a part of wizarding culture.

Perhaps that's the reason Eileen's family doesn't seem to be in the picture. My own theory is that Eileen hadn't planned to commit herself to Tobias long-term, and Severus was an accidental outcome of an innocent tryst in which a young Eileen, an educated witch from a well to do pureblood family, was having fun slumming it with a working class muggle and ended up pregnant. While we don't know the wizarding world's attitude around pregnancy and abortion, we do know it's a conservative and classist society that parallels muggle British culture fairly closely, and that the late 50s/early 60s were a time when an out of wedlock baby would have been considered a disgrace.

Add to that the anti-muggle bias of a pureblood family and it sounds like Eileen was disowned her for her mistake (and don't @ me, but even though I know that not all Slytherins are purebloods, it does seem to be a persistent cultural value of the house reaching back to Salazar Slytherin himself, so Eileen's being sorted into it can reasonably be taken as an indication of her blood status). Perhaps the marriage and birth announcements in the Daily Prophet were put in by Eileen herself, if she was a woman from a family where this was customary. It may have been her way of letting her family know of the events, or even of asserting herself and even deliberately defying them, announcing to the whole wizarding world that a Prince married and had a child with a muggle. It makes sense that the girl who wasn't just in the Gobstones club, but became captain, would also say to herself, why shouldn't I have my marriage announced in the paper like everyone else in the family?

It's worth noting that mid-late 20s is pretty young to have a baby in the wizarding world, where the life expectancy and child bearing years are much longer than they are for a muggle. According to the Harry Potter wiki:

"Wizard life expectancy in Britain reached an average 137¾ years in the mid-1990s, according to the Ministry of Divine Health ... Wizards in general have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles, usually living two or three times as long as their non magical counterparts, some living even longer than that depending on circumstances. In addition, seeing as James Potter's parents had him "late in life,” witches likely have significantly longer childbearing years than Muggle women."

Although we see several characters in Severus' generation getting married and having kids not long after leaving school, there's a mention in the text that a lot of people were doing this during Voldemort's reign, as the fear he inspired made people more eager to get a move on with life since they thought they might die any day (I think Mrs. Weasley says this but I can't find the quote, @ me if you do). It's clear this wasn't the norm in the wizarding world. Eileen was a Slytherin, a house that values cunning, ambition, and strong wizarding heritage. Something must have gone very wrong in Eileen's life for her to end up having a child so young and living in a muggle slum.

And so it's possible Eileen Prince found herself pregnant and alone, having been disowned by her family to save face in light of her disgrace, and dependent on the only person she was still close to, the father of her child. It's the kind of storyline that Rowling would write, and it would parallel fairly closely the story of Voldemort's mother, thus adding another to the long list of similarities between Voldemort and Snape.

Lorrie Kim makes an interesting point when she talks about how Snape has a strong reaction to other people having a love life or romantic experiences (the context being Rowling's intention of his love for Lily being romantic and unrequited), but doesn't react particularly strongly to mothers sacrificing themselves for their children, whereas Voldemort does. Her insight, and I think it's a reasonable one, is that Severus accepts the idea of mothers making sacrifices for their children, whether it's Lily giving her life for Harry or Narcissa risking all she did to ask for his help in protecting Draco, because his own mother protected him from his father as much as she could.

There's a lot of room for interpretation on what Eileen's relationship with her son looked like, and what it says about her own state. She may have prioritized not angering Tobias to protect Severus, who as a child might have perceived her actions as a form of rejection. At the same time, she seems to have prepared him thoroughly for life in the magical world, perhaps in the hope that he would find his place in it and escape home. Perhaps she missed it and told him so much about it so she could live through her own memories.

The only time we see her argue with Tobias, in Severus' memory, she's cowering as he shouts. We know from JK Rowling that Tobias used corporal punishment liberally, which implies Eileen didn't stop him despite her magical abilities. We also see in the text, however, that while at school Severus stood up for himself against bullies and fought back, and that he was an exceptionally clever and powerful wizard. As an adult he was brave enough to face Dumbledore when he betrayed Voldemort, and later fought against Voldemort right under his nose (or lack thereof). So it stands to reason that at some point Severus began to stand up against Tobias too.

How much of that was Eileen's influence, or the result of Severus seeing her acceptance of her fate and rejecting it for himself, is hard to say. As for what happened to Tobias and Eileen that their house was Severus' by the mid-90s and they were nowhere in sight, I don't think there's enough information in the text to infer.

[v3lv3tsin]

my oh my: sim jaeyun

| pairing: sim jaeyun x reader

| genre: vampire!jake, human!reader

| warnings: angst, minors dni

| word count: 1.2k

| stefy's note: this is a collaboration between me and @chericherilvr , we found this fanfic writing site and well decided to have some fun, so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

You never liked working so that's when you decided to apply for a more risque job that hired people with no experience. Perfect job, right?

Well it seems to be perfect until you met Jake, your worst nightmare. He barely showed up to work and was always bullying you. It's like he hated you, but you barely knew each other. Maybe it was the wat you smiled at him or his annoying grin. You couldn't figure it out and when you actualluy thought you did, you didn't.

One day, your boss decided to make you do the unwanted, pairing you up with Jake. Why him? You thought to yourself. All he did was care about his work and ignore the other colleagues. It was infuriating you to say the least, but you had to do it. Even if you wouldn't want to be anywhere near him. He was trouble and not the kind of trouble you wanted to be involved with.

Time couldn't go slower, maybe this was Crono's way of making you suffer after not getting his name right on last night's trivia game. Spinning a pencil around, staring at your project partner, counting to ten over and over again to not punch Jake in the face. His stupid, smiling, beautiful face.

"You don't get paid to stare at me, sweetheart." The pencil almost snaps when he decides to smirk, "but i mean, if you go out with me i'll do both of our jobs." Jake winks at you, his smirk only growing and licking his lower lip once he sees your glaring eyes. It's the moment when you have to remind yourself about professionalism.

4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...

"Thank you, but i'll have to reject the kind of offer." Your voice dipped with poison and sarcasm behind your smile. "How instead you stop calling me that."

He shakes his hand, leaning forward closer to your desk. "Okay, how about, darling?"

1, 2, 3, 4...

"No? Okay, how about..." He pauses for a brief moment, leaning a bit away before holding his head between his hands.

5, 6, 7, 8...

"Babe? My love? My world? Princess? Honey?"

9, 10, 1, 2...

"Stop!" Your hands point towards all of Jake. "Flirting, stop this, whatever it is."

The motherfucker Jake decides to chuckle at your cringing face. "Sorry, babe, old habits die hard." 3, 4, 5, 6. You stop counting when you hear the pencil finally snap in between your fingers. "I don't know what you're trying to do here, but whatever it is, it needs to stop." You say annoyed, being fed up with all his flirty comments.

"Haven't you heard of magic, darling?" His voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you think going out with me will end up in me being a serial killer, don't worry. I'm not interested in killing you anytime soon, only with my charm." The moment you heard his flirty voice, you lost it. All the counting from your head starting again just so you could focus on what you're actually supposed to do.

"Let's focus now on the actual work, which is actually about magical rituals." Both of you looked at the document in front of you, filled with several photos of corpses that have been mutilated or decomposed. This sent chills down your spine. "There's a killer on the loose. Name. Yang Jungwon. Burned down his orphanage, killed his classmates and roommate." You say, giving him more information about the several murders and the killer. "And he has a temper." You whisper to Jake's ear, almost in a mocking way, knowing that when it comes to people that don't deal greatly with anger.

"I can handle him, sweetheart. You won't escape me if that's what you wish for." He says in a cheeky grin, pushing his body closer to yours. He was close. Too close. The only thing between the two of you was the desk, which he could easily move with his hands. Those hands that drove you crazy even if you hated him, you couldn't deny that he was attractive.

Suddenly you hear you boss voice. "What about Y/n and Jake?" Both of you turned your head around, forgetting about the trivia game for a second.

You sit back down on your chair, fixing your hair. Nothing's going on, everything's ok. You nod to yourself. Jake decides to answer for both of you, smiling at your silence. "Orphanages and magic rituals? Is he trying to summon something?" You mumble trying to not roll your eyes.

"Yes, a dick you can suck on." Your boss nods at Jakes words and starts giving hypothesis while talking with the rest of the teams. Lost in thought looking at the files, you don't catch Jake leaning over the desk and whispering in your ear. "Sure you won't like it to be that? Or better, him summoning my hands seeing as you have a big liking towards them?"

You flinch at his voice, a shiver running down your back at the thought. "We don't even know if he's summoning something." You try to bite back and move away from him.

"Do we now, darling?" Jake's words linger on your mind for the reat of the day. The last words, you swear to yourself, not the hand thoughts. Music plays softly and wind comes in through your car window while driving. "Wait! I haven't opened a window?" You shift to look at your left, where the air is coming from, and slam the breaks once you see someone sitting next to you.

Everything stops for a couple of seconds, adrenaline melting in your body mixed with the relief of stopping in an empty road. Your hands fumble with the seat belt after regaining conciusness. There was no one next to you when you left driving for work 13 minutes ago. Just ignore the chuckle and run for your life. But after opening the door your body is pushed back against your car.

"Sweetheart, why would you run away from me?" Your eyes widen at his words, at his voice. Bracing yourself to look at him, where you expected to find Jake's brown eyes and a scar stare back at you.

"Oh, sorry." The man you knew as the killer you're hunting down transforms his body into the same person that's working with you to end him. Jake smiles at you, and traces your face. "Surprise." He cheers , before chuckling at your confused face. He runs his hands down to rub your arm, soothing your trembling body. "I wished you would've found another way, but I couldn't risk your pretty brain to catch me out first." He laughs, almost giggling.

"What...What is.." Your voice barely a whisper.

"It's ok, babe. I won't harm you." He tries to flash a comforting smile, showing his sharp teeth in the process. Fuck, this now made sense, he wasn't trying to summon anything. He wanted blood. He needed blood. Because he is a vampire and now you're his next prey, one way or another.

Your morals were all wrong when you felt his lips on yours. He tasted sweet. Bloody sweet. All the bodies that you found drained out of blood. It was him. He was intoxicating. Jake wanted to do this ever since he saw you walk in the office, with that damn short skirt, that was too short for you. He imagined himself between your legs. Without thinking, he wrapped his veiny hand around you neck, holding you in place. You were his now. His to love. His to corrupt.

© V3LV3TSIN ⎯ do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[moyokeansimblr]

Get to know you: Sims Style

Well I was patiently waiting to be tagged but it's not happened yet and @isimchi "tagged" anyone who hasn't so that means me 😁

What’s your favorite Sims death?

I mean, I have to say drowning. I have many a memory of my childhood best friend and I batch creating like 100 sims with the sole purpose to drown and make haunted lots... Surely we all did that though, right?

Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

These days I'm maxis match, and in particular my cc is 90-95% 4t2 stuff. Sometimes I miss non-clay hairs but not enough that I'd wanna switch back. I'm actually extremely happy with my game aesthetic at the moment. I see the appeal of alpha and I am alpha in sims 3 but I don't think I could go back to it in sims 2 anymore.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

Not directly... occasionally I've dragged needs up so a sim will exercise longer when they want/need a body skill because when it's not fall the body skill takes FOREVER to gain. So then they'll end up exercising so long that they get fit where they might not otherwise have. That's as close as I'd get to cheating their weight though.

Do you move objects?

I mean, yes. I both move objects and moveobjects. 😉 (although I've had the cheat alias "mon/mof" (yes, one f) for ages I don't even remember the proper way to type the cheat.

Favorite Mod?

Hmm that's tough. Some staples I couldn't live without are sim blender, ACR, monique's hacked computers, all the no regen mods, the auto saver, gussy up, and for some reason smonaff's period mod is the mod I've had in my game longer than anything else I have now. Been using that since the 2000s. Is it necessary? Probably not. Is it annoying? Yes but periods are annoying irl too. Would I miss it if I didn't have it in my game? Greatly.

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

My parents bought the sims 1 on release when I was 3, and then at some point shortly thereafter I ended up entirely hijacking my mom's computer. But while they did buy every pack on release as well, the earliest pack that I still have solid memories of playing is Vacation. Is that all it was called? I think non-US versions had a cooler name like On Holiday or something.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

Ya know... I've never really thought about it until now but both. Sometimes I say LIVE and sometimes LIV. I don't know what goes on in my brain to decide which one I'm gonna say at any given point but I know for fact I say both.

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

I've had many favorite sims over the years, most long lost into the void. But one sim I think about a lot is one of my old ts3 sims Levi Engle. He was one of my first truly evil sims and really one of my last proper edgy sims as well and I've not had anyone quite like him since. This was like 2016 I think? I'm still waiting to have a sim like him again, in either 3 or 2. "Made" is not quite accurate, he was born. But he's one of my own, not a premade.

Have you made a simself?

Oh have I.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Red. Specifically since I prefer 4t2 clay hairs in EA's colors these days the red that's swatch 9. This one.

Favorite EA hair?

Hmmm... In ts2

And in ts3

Favorite life stage?

Young Adult, in all versions of the game. University is my favorite EP across the board.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

Gameplay. Every so often I feel build-y, and I have made entire custom worlds in ts3 and hoods in ts2 where I've build everything myself but mostly I prefer to just use other people's or the game's builds and just enjoy playing.

Are you a CC creator?

I sometimes feel kind of weird using the word "creator" since all I do is convert stuff but yes. I share cc.

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

I don't know? I have some mutuals that I go like 😁 whenever I see in my notifs or messages from. But I don't really exactly talk to anybody.

Do you have any sims merch?

I've got a blanket with plumbbobs on it and my brother's girlfriend got me a sheet of ts4 stickers I've not used yet. Otherwise, do all the old discs and prima guides count? My discs are the most important things I own.

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

Not really. I have a youtube channel that's a hodgepodge for both my eurovision ranking videos and the occasional sims thing. But I'm not a sims youtuber at all.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

Oh boy, it has a lot. When I was a kid I destroyed pleasantview with fairy and mermaid cc from "UserDeb" on the Exchange and SapphireSims2 I think it was called? Mad emo cc and like households where it'd be two families living together so the teen girl and teen boy could secretly meet together in the dead of night in the bathroom. Back then lots of one-off totally unrelated families in an otherwise empty custom hood that I'd play for the duration of a random idea I had then drop. Then in the 2010s I had a long stint of this like making 8 YA girls and 8 YA boys and pairing them up and then graduate and marry and kid and then create 8 more YAs in CAS and repeat and that got like 15 generations once. I did that kind of not really playing but more just like breeding for years. Whereas whenever I'd stop playing 2 and play 3 instead I would "properly play" and have long ass legacies. I never touched the premade sims until I tried to play Pleasantview in 2020. I did have a few failed megahoods then. Now I am wants-based and I prefer to have as little control as possible over my sims. I could say a lot more here but I'm tired.

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Talk about a hard question! For times sake I'm going to say @deedee-sims because when I deleted my 48+ GB folder of alpha CC to start anew maxis match-y the first new CC I had was everything of DeeDee's.

What expansion/gamepack is your favorite?

ts2 University. I just love it.

-------

I don't know who has and hasn't done this since I feel like I'm late as I never got the tag. But since I really wanted to do it, I'm sure someone else who hasn't been tagged wants to too. So if you've not done it, go for it!!

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

I want more scenarios with old bots (I really want more scenes with them, or art 🥲) just some fluff, like: evening under the stars, listening to stories

YES! I agree they need more love and more attention!

Jetfire:

He loves to tell stories and sure does have many of them. He likes to sit, relax, and talk about his life and the history of Cybertron and Earth to any bot or human that will listen. He'll be delighted if you sit with him and listen to his stories. He can talk your ear off forever, so plan to stay with him for a long time. Maybe even take a blanket and pillow because he would talk to you until late at night.

If you fall asleep, he'll wake you up then keep talking. He'd only let you sleep if it was actually nighttime.

If you need to know anything about Earth's history, he's your bot. He's been on Earth a long time, he knows more than most humans.

He calls you his little spitfire, and he gets really happy anytime he sees you.

Bulldog:

He can't remember your name so will often just call you nicknames depending on how you look, what you wear, or what hobbies you like to do.

He has a number of those large garden games, like giant chess, checkers, and Connect 4. They are good for his memory and give him something to do since he can't fight. He loves it when you play with him.

He likes to listen more than talk since his memory isn't the best. He enjoys hearing about Earth and likes it when you bring him things to show him. He's very interested to learn things even though he may forget them. He's particularly interested in birds.

Stratosphere:

He may be old and clunky, but he still loves to fly. He would be very grateful if you flew with him. Because it gives him something to do and makes him feel useful. He likes to show you around the world.

He likes to carry you on his shoulder when he walks around because it makes you very tall and he finds it entertaining to give you a new view.

He will teach you how to fly and will give you complete control of him. He'd only resume control if you were starting to fly into a cliff or something. But he's a great teacher, very calm, and explains things well.

Lieutenant(I looked him up he's the old plane at Burton's home):

He misses the battle and hates feeling stagnant and useless. So he likes to try and keep sharp with training. He likes having someone set up a target practice for him so he can keep working on his aim.

He gets tired quickly, and like to take rests and naps. But he likes being kept company, either so he can talk or be talked to. He doesn't like being left alone, because he doesn't like being considered old.

If you keep him company and talk to him like you would any other bot he greatly appreciates it.

[dearestones]

Hey!!!! I hope we can still do that ask game from a sec ago :) 🤔📌💡🗑

Hey, Devin here!

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

Oh gosh, I think I would like to write horror! I mean, yeah you could argue yandere is horror, but the way I write it, it's more... psychological thriller? If I do write horror, I think I would like to write about ghostly hauntings... or maybe even a slasher!

I would also like to try my hand at adventure type stories! Like the cast of characters going on a quest or something to that effect.

📌 If all your fics/WIPs fell off a ship and were drowning (go with it), and you could only save one, which would it be?

Why would you make me choose??? Like... I've got literal hundreds of fics under my belt at this point! I'm not proud of all of them, but they're all my babies!

That said, I would have to go with Caged Birds! Seriously, I'm spending so much time and effort into it and not only that, I'm projecting that it's going to take months, maybe even years before I finish. You bet I'm saving this wip!

💡 What’s the weirdest thing you’ve been inspired by?

Oooohhhhh! Good question! I think I get inspired by character interactions or the lack thereof. I like putting various elements like world buidling, characters, or plot ideas into a blender and seeing how the similarities and/or differences balance each other out or enable each other. You can see this a lot if you were to look at my old fics that are crossovers! It's amazing what you can do to put two seemingly different fandoms together!

🗑 What is one fic idea that you loved at first but then scrapped?

Once upon a time, I was going to write an oc-centric story for Obey Me! The main premise of the story is that the MC who I was going to call Bitty actually disobeyed Lucifer's orders from the very first few chapters, met Belphegor, and then admitted it to Lucifer. Lucifer, who is probably questioning his judgment, allows Bitty to continue visiting Belphegor so long as they don't tell the other brothers. His reasoning was that Belphegor (who he is very secretly fond of since that's his baby brother) needed enrichment and what better way to do that than to have him understand and bond with one of the humans he claims to detest so much.

The story was going to be mainly focused on the relationship between Belphegor and Bitty, with plenty of side plots and shenanigans with the other brothers. Also, Bitty is very against the idea of enslaving anyone to their will, even if it will serve them greatly in the future. Because of that, they refuse to make pacts with the brothers. This causes Belphegor and them to have arguments, but eventually, Bitty explains that maybe they can reason with Lucifer to let Belphegor out.

It takes months, but eventually, Belphegor gets released and in a moment where he feels like he can finally exact revenge, he realizes that Bitty is one simple human. He can't really achieve anything with that other than to halt the exchange program momentarily.

There's tension, but eventually, Belphegor reintegrates with the rest of the Devildom and eventually, both Bitty and Belphegor become best friends (possibly lovers???) without the possibility of death and hidden resentment from Belphegor.

A few notes: The both of them bond over how idealistic and absurd the exchange program is, how much they dont' like Diavolo, and how they enjoy card games.

Another note: Bitty's full name is Bituin Perez. Take that as you will :D

Thank you so much for the questions and I hope that you have a wonderful day! :D

Feel free to ask more!

[nagalias-mindscape]

Blame my sister for this. A Twisted Wonderland Idea-Sprout. Yuu, directly / indirectly raised by the Great Seven because their older sibling was the real hero/heroine that Crowley was trying to summon because he wanted said hero for their legendary feats during the war where the Great Seven fought.

Deuce: Wait. You knew the Great Seven as a kid? What were they like?

Yuu: Mary had her moments of gentleness in between upholding the laws of her realm. Scar liked to slink out when his advisors weren't looking to go sunbathing. Ursula enjoyed games where the rules were simple and didn't require you to double check or reread anything for clarification. Jafar wasn't actually trying to marry the princess- he thought it very horrifying that someone would offer their teen daughter to a fifty year old sultan with the idea of getting grandchildren. Hilda was more powerful than she was beautiful, and she once accidentally reduced her castle to rubble- no one died, thankfully. I called Hades a bon fire once and got tasked to make s'mores using his fire- at the price of making some for himself. Nifty acts all scary, and she has to be to keep her kingdom from falling into ruins- at least back then she did-, but she's a very gentle soul once you get past the menacing aura and genuine attempt to scare you.

Ace: Wait... Mary? Hilda? Nifty?

Yuu: Um... The Queen of Hearts has- had a name. Mary. Mary Elizabeth Heart. Pretty certain the Rosehearts are actually related to them.

Riddle: Directly, albeit distantly. We're unable to inherit the throne unless there's a severe accident in the royal family and they all end up dead. Even then, the Rosehearts are more known for other things.

Ace: Wait, you're actually royalty?!

Riddle: You... were raised in the Queendom of Roses, yes? The lineage of the reigning Royal Family is taught to all children in their first year of middle school.

Ace: ... Mighta flunked it. Whoops?

Riddle: You little--!

Yuu: --Hilda would be Queen Grimhilde! The Fairest Queen? I had trouble pronouncing her name when I was little. She let me call her that since I was so young, but then it just... sort of stuck.

Deuce: And Nifty? It's a pretty interesting name for someone.

Ace: Wait... Only one person hasn't been mentioned yet... You don't mean...?!

Yuu: Yep! Lady Maleficent. My Nifty.

Sebek: There's no way someone like Lady Maleficent would have let you call her such a name!

Lilia: I do seem to recall that she once spoke fondly of a set of precocious siblings who helped greatly during the Great War... One a mysterious knight with sword magic not from this world, and their younger sibling who with an equally mysterious power that was... left out of the history books.

Yuu: Yep, that was me and Yan. I couldn't figure out the difference between Maleficent and Magnificent, and I remember somewhere my brother once told me that the word nifty was once used as a replacement for the word magnificent. So, since I couldn't say either longer name, I went with the shorter one. It, also, stuck.

[changelingscribbles]

I seriously want to draw fanart for the PossessIan AU. If I have time sometime this week I am absolutely going to try to sketch something out because IT’S JUST SO GOOD

First of all, I love “supernova” being Jack’s nickname for Ian. It gives off the perfect vibes, it’s less romantic than “sunshine,” but it’s also more casual, like something a friend would call you!!

Second of all, could I request some thoughts about what Jack and Ian’s “friendship” would be like? Thank you so much!! 😁

First off, thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about the Supernova nickname because I enjoy the play on words I came up with. Secondly, absolutely PLEASE feel free to draw fanart of it! I would love that, please tag me if you post it because I'd love to see it! :)

Now, onto the thoughts:

Jack and Ian's 'friendship' looks very different from the friendship we see in-game between MC and Jack, namely because Jack isn't interested in Ian that way, and while he's happy to be his friend, for real, he knows it'll be temporary because he wants to be back out in the real world again and Ian is how he's gonna do that. The first few weeks are all about lowering Ian's guard. Obviously, having some weird clown man come out of your TV is not the ideal basis for a friendly introduction, and it might've taken Jack a little too long to get Ian to stop screaming, but at least they could later pass it off as 'rehearsal' and not 'there's a freaky clown dude who came out of my TV and he's not trying to kill me or anything he's just really unsettling because he's not supposed to do that', because that would just make Ian sound craaaazy. The friendship begins sort of begrudgingly. Ian's got some hangups about the whole thing, mostly on account of his upbringing - ghosts and spiritual things tend to be the work of the Devil, and while he's not entirely sure he fully believes that, it's how he was raised. But Jack is so nice, and supportive, and helps around the house while Ian's busy with trying to get roles, so it's really hard to believe he's all that bad. Jack might even pull a few strings with Ian's career - he knows most of the old guys from back when they weren't so old, after all - thank goodness for good old Hollywood Elitism. He can tell Ian what they're looking for, and Ian can go ahead and use that advice to land roles - like a guide. Time goes on, and they find they can actually get along quite well - shared interests help, and after a while they're actually quite close. Ian will confide in Jack about things like his breakup with MC, and Jack will tell stories about SunnyTime Town and how fun it was to be part of something like that. Jack finds himself falling for MC based on stories alone, and this is when he makes the decision to speed up his plans so he can have MC sooner. It's around this time that Jack starts up the nickname. Every friend deserves a nickname, and he wants Ian's to fit him. He tests a few, but none stick until Supernova - a star that suddenly increases greatly in brightness because of a catastrophic explosion that ejects most of its mass. That's exactly what's going to happen, after all. Jack's going to help him shine so brightly...and then eject most if not all of him from his body. He's a little sad about that. He knows it has to happen, it's always been the plan, but it's been expedited with his need to be with MC. He won't have as much time with Ian as he thought they'd have. He encourages Ian to make the drastic decision to up and visit MC to convince them to come back to him. Ian's unsure, but desperate - almost as desperate as Jack himself. "It'll be great, Supernova, trust me - grand gestures are super romantic! They're going to see you like a whole new person."

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”  

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.  

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

[thefanficmonster]

Matured

Corpse Husband & Little Sister Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Sibling Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse’s search for a roommate ends shortly after his little sister calls him, telling him she’s moving out of her high school dorm in the suburbs following her graduation to attend college in San Francisco.

Requested by @bugger2002  Hi darling! Thank you so much for this adorable request, I had such a fun time turning it into a fic! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Alright, it’s been a month since Y/N announced she’d be moving in with me - no, she didn’t ask if she could nor if I’d want her to, she straight up casually informed me she’d be moving in with me since she’s starting college. I’m lucky she even thought to tell me, knowing her it wouldn’t have been so strange for her to just show up on my doorstep with a grin like “Alright, I live here now.” Having a six years younger sister who can act both younger and older than me - sometimes both at the same time - is a bit complex. Obviously, my protective and nurturing brotherly instinct kicks in whenever she complains to me about something, but seconds later she tells me she’s taken care of it already and I feel like a fool for overreacting even if it was only internal. She’s calm and rational when she needs to be and a reckless airhead whose only goal is to have fun when she wants to be.

And judging by her and her friends’ main methods of obtaining said fun I can see how much alike we are: playing drunk video games, drunk darts, drunk pool. You see, there’s a lot of drinking involved and that’s something I’m greatly unhappy with and have scolded her on countless times just to get a fake promise, probably with fingers crossed behind her back - that she’ll cut down the alcohol. Not to mention she’s not even old enough to drink so I’ve been very insistent on her cutting her bad habit. She’s tried calling me hypocritical at times but she can’t do so rightfully since I’m, you know, of drinking age. So she’s basically bound by law to follow my advice and orders.

At least now that she’ll be staying with me I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her. A rascal high school student will either mature-up in college or go even more downhill. I aim to make her fall in the first category, but I’m making no promises - she’s very unruly, just like me. Damn, never did I think my own traits would come hitting me in the back of the head like a boomerang but here we are.

Regardless of all the crap I’ve just spewed about her, she’s a wonderful girl. She’s always been my pillar of support and never gets tired of it. She never misses a call of mine and has never not replied to a message of mine, no matter how drunk she’s been. She’s never skipped a Saturday night Skype call, no matter how busy she’s been. She��s never let herself forget she has a brother who often times needs her by his side.

Once she even talked one of her friends who has a car and a driver’s license drive her all the way to my apartment complex when I was having a really bad anxiety attack and legit couldn’t talk on the phone. She went door to door to find which apartment I live in and stayed with me the whole weekend she was supposed to spend at a music festival or something. It’s not wonder she’ll be a med student - she’s always wanted to be a nurse and has practically been my personal nurse since she was twelve. She maybe wasn’t always physically present to help me, but she’s a great instruction giver for when I need her and she’s unable to come to my aid.

Well now, we’ll both be there to aid one another.

“BEEP BEEP FUCKER!“

I nearly flip off my chair at the distinct yelling coming from directly below my window. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it’d always bring a smile to my face without fail.

I rush to get up from my desk chair and open the window but when I do so, she’s no longer on the sidewalk. There’s only a car I recognize to be the one of the friend that drove her here during that nightmarish episode I explained earlier.

Before I can ever back away from the window, I hear my front door swing open and a yell echo from down the hall, “Corpse! How many times do I need to tell you to lock your door, damn it!”

“The same amount of times I’ve had to tell you to cut down on the al- WHOA!“ She doesn’t let me finish the sentence and jumps me the second I step out in the hallway.

“Missed you, stupid!“ She says, her legs wrapped around my waist as she ruffles my hair, “I’ll trim your hair later. Why have you let it get so long?“ She questions, furrowing her brows at me while running both her hands through my mess of a hair - she has a point, I’ve let it get out of control. While doing so, she seems to get an idea all of a sudden so she quickly climbs down, reminding me of the huge height difference we have now that her feet are on the floor. “I know you two have met before, but I think you need to re-meet...“ she says, turning to look at her friend who’s smiling timidly at her. She sends the flustered girl a wink before turning back to look at me, “Corpse, I’d like you to meet Abbey, my girlfriend“ she says proudly, skipping over to the blue haired girl and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Y/N pushes up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. It’s adorable to see her shorter than yet another person she clearly adores to annoy.

I smile at the two girls, holding back a chuckle as to not embarrass Abbey more, “Well then, nice to meet you Abbey. You should know you are one strong soul to be putting up with all that.“ I purposely don’t look at Y/N as I motion towards her, earning me a pissed off “Hey!“ as a response to my remark, “Stick around for dinner, don’t worry neither of us will be cooking.“ I point at myself and then at Y/N as if to reassure her she won’t be a victim of food poisoning.

“Actually...“ Abbey says, tilting her head to look my shortie sister in the eyes as if taunting her to say something.

She finally caves, raising her left hand as though she’s volunteering, “Ugh fine, I may or may not have taken a cooking course and may or may not know how to cook a decent meal. It’s whatever, really.”

To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I’m impressed, shocked, surprised and flooded with joy that my sister has finally decided to start maturing. “Cooking course, huh? When did you decide living off of takeout isn’t a nice way to live?”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh no I still go full weeks with only takeout and cereal, I just needed a distraction because...well...” she trails off, her gaze dropping awkwardly as she fishes for words or perhaps already has them found but doesn’t want to spit them out.

Abbey huffs, taking Y/N’s hand and lifting it to show off her wrist where I catch sight of a batch of colorful handmade bracelets, “Because these aren’t gonna earn themselves.”

I raise an eyebrow, puzzled as to what exactly she’s referring to.

Y/N sighs, taking one of the bracelets, playing with it nervously, “I have one for every month I’ve spent without getting drunk - Abbey made them for me. I need a distraction to stay sober so...I took up cooking.“

I can’t remember a moment I haven’t felt proud of my sister. Y/N’s always been on top of her shit, drunk or sober she knows what she’s doing. She’s mindful even when she’s reckless, thinks soberly even when she’s been drinking heavily. She’s always proved herself to me and to the people who think of her as a lowlife without even trying. She lets the world breeze by her without thinking too much of it and yet she still mesmerizes me and many of the people she meets - Abbey has now officially joined the club.

But, all things said and considered, I think I’ve never felt as proud of her as I do right now, seeing those six bracelets on her wrist - half a year without getting drunk. I know she wouldn’t lie to Abbey, she rarely lies to me too, so those bracelets have been earned and well-deserved and that makes me feel like the Y/N I remember is not the one standing in front of me right now. That silly girl is still in the suburbs, making a shitty-ass choice of messing up her liver. A grown woman, a responsible adult has taken her place though, and I couldn’t be more glad.

“Y/N...“ I finally manage to utter her name, making her gaze meet mine, “I’m so fucking proud of you.“

A smile slowly stretches the corners of her mouth upwards, her eyes shning in a way that has nothing to do with the lighting in this hallway. She’s not a crier though, I know those tears are gonna stay right there, stubbornly refusing to escape her eyes, “Thanks, Corpse. I’m proud of you too....” she says, nodding her head slowly, “I can overlook the untrimmed hair.”

Sigh

Y/N will always be Y/N no matter what I guess. That’s a good thing - I love her just the way she is.

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[depressedacadamia]

A kiss would be nice

Summary: Magnus develops feelings for his roomate and has no idea what to do; when theres' some serious miscommunication, Alex and Magnus have to solve an obvious problem.

Pairing:  Fierrochase

A/N: THIS WAS MY FIRST EVER REQUEST!!!!  I swear I'm gonna organise my Masterlist on tumblr coz its a hot mess rn and then I will get a prompt list up. Anyway, I hope this lives up to the expectations of the request- enjoy and comment!

Read on A03        M;List

Magnus liked Alex.

How exactly was he meant to process this?

Yes. Alex was sometimes a girl and other times a boy but what did it make him?

He could remember the moment Alex came floundering into his life, confident about who she was and Magnus could only think about how much he didn't know about himself. It was ridiculous, in his opinion, to think that he fundamentally changed as a person just because he liked someone.

So why did he feel so scared to come to that conclusion that he did in fact like Alex?

“What are you thinking so hard about over there, pretty boy?” Alex asked dryly as he scrolled through his phone while he dangled off the top bunk of their dormitory. Startled, Magnus snapped his head towards Alex and with no game whatsoever stuttered a terrible lie.

“Uh- Uh, nothing.”

“Uhu,” Alex emphasised. “ So that totally wasn't a lie.”

“Yes, Wait, I mean no- wait,” Magnus stuttered out again, his hands beginning to fidget and his palms becoming sweaty.

Alex simply raised an eyebrow before softly sighing and returning to his phone scrolling. He knew that Magnus wasn't the kind to keep secrets in a malicious manner- if he wasn't spilling something, it was because he didn't feel comfortable and Alex knew as well as anyone else that if Magnus was uncomfortable, nothing was spilling from his lips.

Clenching his fists in finality, Magnus got up, accidentally banging the top of his head on the top bunk above him where Alex was elegantly dangling off, his hair defying the laws of gravity by maintaining its rightful position on his head. He rubbed his head, swore under his breath and continued to make a bashful exit from the dorm room.

Alex could tell that something was definitely up.

Sure, Magnus was weird- he sometimes came back home at incredibly odd hours, always seemed relatively silent when one were to ask him where he had been and he almost always wore his lengthy blonde hair in a way that covered the majority of his face; in fact, Alex had thought about tilting his chin up just so he could get a better view of his elegant features.

So what exactly was it causing his roommate to act so oddly?

Magnus was in the bathroom. In fact he was hiding out in one of the stalls, trying his best to avud Alex at all costs. What had started out as a way to skip the horribly boring parts of his classes, now became a full blown ritual in which he would run away to his favourite bathroom stall- the one by the very end, next to the hand blow dryers, were his favourite but also alarmed him because it was there where he could hear whether anybody really washed their hands and there was an alarming amount of evidence which contradicted so.

He would take a book or sometimes just plug in his earphones to listen to music as he essentially hid out in the stall. Sometimes, when he felt a bit more confident- and knew Alex would be off campus- Magnus would hide out in the library; a much more comfortable and all round better smelling place to read, study and or listen to music.

But now as he slowly emerged from the stall after hours of sitting, heading back towards his room, Magnus could only feel this inevitable feeling of impending doom. He had managed to distract himself from the Alex situation for so long and now, he was about to crumble.

It was only a matter of time.

“Magnus?” A familiar and - dare I even say- dreaded voice asked him.

Glancing through the blonde locks of hair which curtained his face, he caught a glimpse of familiar green hair which he had been avoiding.

“Huh?” He managed to mumble.

Alex frowned. “Don’t ‘huh’ me. Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all day.”

Magnus’s eyes widened- he had left his phone on silent as he didnt want to deal with others. “I-you did? Sorry.”

“That doesn't matter now. Where have you bee- actually nevermind that as well, come on, we need to get back, it’s already late and I know you have an early class tomorrow.”

Magnus hesitated.

Alex noticed. He refused to stay silent about the matter any longer.

“Okay. Spit it out. “

“What!” Magnus stammered. “ Spi- spit what? Spit wh- what out exactly?”

“The reason you’ve been avoiding me? Did I forget to do my chores or something? Or did I accidentally make some sort of mess of your stuff?”

“No- No, of course not!”

“So?”

Magnus found himself too enamoured with Alex’s features to respond. He could feel the bubble bath slowly overflowing inside his mind. What did it mean if he liked Alex? Was he now a completely different person? What did it matter if he liked Alex?

Wasn't he just like everybody else?

But Magnus’ mind told him that it was so obvious that Alex was in fact not like everybody else, otherwise why was it Alex whom he couldn’t keep his eyes off of? If Alex was so like everyone else, why was it his eyes that Magnus always wanted to stare at, why was it Alex’s hair that Magnus always wanted to ruffle or Alex’s hand that he always wanted to hold?

Why was it always Alex whom he wanted to hug when he was having a bad day?

So when he looked back at Alex, he felt the overwhelming need to throw himself and wrap his arms around Alex so tightly that Alex would have trouble breathing and then - in Magnus’s perfect world- Alex would also wrap his arms around Magnus and they would hold each other in their arms and stand their leaning on each other.

“Nothing,” Magnmus mumbled as he came back to reality.

He walked past Alex, eager to get back to their dorm and just sleep his feelings away- something he was used to doing thanks to his years of being homeless. He wasn’t about to escape when a slender hand wrapped itself around his wrist and dragged him backwards.

“No.” Alex huffed almost angrily. “You’re not running away from me,not again.”

Magnus could have sworn- looking back- that he may have let out a squeak.

“You are avoiding me Mister and I’d like to know why. It’s bad enough that you spend all your time hiding in the bathroom stalls, it’s even worse that you're doing it to avoid someone as fabulous as myself. So if we could quickly get this over with, It would be greatly appreciated and I’m sure it would relieve your nostrils as well.”

“I-”

“You…?”Alex prompted.

“Ilikeyou.”

Alex paused, scrunched up his nose before raising an eyebrow in ridicule and letting out a laugh. And while Magnus truly believed there was nothing more beautiful than Alex’s smile, right now, it was the most damning thing he had ever seen.

Of course Alex would be laughing! Who wouldn't be laughing if some weedy, shady blond kid confessed their feelings for them in the most pathetic way possible!

Magnus had no other choice but to clench his fists to resist the burning sensation gathering in his eyes as he turned on his heel and hurried back to his dorm.

He was curled up on his bed, binging criminal minds on his laptop because what else was meant to comfort you after getting rejected if it wasn’t watching people getting brutally murdered by psychopaths and sadists?

He was wrapped with this specific episode- involving a bunch of very explicit murder- when Alex snatched his headphones right off his head plopped himself in the computer chair that rested right next to the bottom bunk where Magnus had been hiding out.

He could feel himself paling as he remembered that he lived with Alex.

“We need to talk.”

What? He was so sick of Alex making every decision, afterall- it was Alex who chose to laugh at him.

“We have nothing to talk about,” Magnus managed to snap back.

“Why do you keep avoiding me? First in our own dorm, then in public and now you don't even want to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” He retorted, his words coated with so much sarcasm, had there been anymore, he may have become Samirah at that very moment. “Was I expected to hang around after being ridiculed?”

“Ridiculed? What do you mea-”

“-What do I mean? I guess you wouldnt understand what it feels like for someone whom you really really like to outright just laugh at you after confessing. I guess you don't know how- how nerve racking and horrible it is to not feel comfortable and safe wherever you go. I guess you were privileged enough to not deal with doubting yourself with every decision you make and every thought you have!”

Alex started. “I-”

“-No. I’m not finished. Do you know how that made me feel?” Magnus was on a roll. “ Like shit. I felt shitty. I felt like shit and I was curled up like a bratty 5 year old and do you know what I’ve realised? I’ve realised that I have nob reason to feel shitty because I'm not the one who was so insecure in myself that I laughed at someone else who was struggling, esepcially when I rejected a hot piece of ass such as myself!” He finished his ramble with a shout, his chest heaving, cheeks flushed and somehow, his hair messy.

“So,” Alex drawled causally. “ Am I allowed to speak now?”

“No.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex sooke anyway. “ I’m sorry that you feel this way and I guess I can't change that I was the person who made you feel like- well, shit, but I have to say Beantown, you really shouldn't assume things so quickly.”

Magnus frowned, turning his shiny, glossy eyes towards Alex finally. “Huh?”

“Well. If you were to give me a chance to explain, I’d be able to tell you that I laughed because I thought you looked adorable. I would be able to tell you that I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings in any way and I’m very sorry if I did and…”

Alex held Magnus’ chin, pulling his head a bit down so he was able to fully look him in the eye rather than just looking away under Magnus’ chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“And…?” Magnus whispered hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

“And, I would be able to tell you that I like you.” Alex smiled dopily.

Did Magnus hear that correctly? Did Alex Fierro- the most confident, and in Magnus’s eyes, the most attractive person out there just admit to liking the scraggly kid who used to live on the streets?

“Excuse me?”

Aex sighed. “I said that I like you and your … What was it you said?” He paused for dramatic effect because lighting up his eyes. “ Oh yes and your ‘hot piece of ass’ I believe it was.”

Magnus cringed at his previous words as he started at Alex. Alex fierro liked him!

“What?” Alex smirked on noticing Magnus’s innocent stare.

“Can I try something?” Magnus tilted his head to the side innocently. Alex nodded.

Yes, please do try something, A kiss would be nice.

But to Alex’s surprise, he felt Magnus’s arms being wrapped around his body. It was an odd sensation that at first made Alex want to reel backwards.

But then this familiar ignition in his stomach tugged him back to wrap his arms back around Magnus and bury his face in Magnus’s chest, just about reaching his collarbone.

The hug was brief. Perhaps not even longer than 15 seconds at a maximum, but it was enough for Magnus to feel better.

Alex decided that perhaps next time Magnus would kiss him.

Super cool people Taglist: @wisegirl773 @ddepressedbookworm

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 4- Four Marks

Summary: Your travels have taken you to a tavern where you meet the most unlikely of individuals. Then as per usual, trouble ensues.

Warnings: getting manhandled by some elves

Masterlist

Laughing into your mug, you catch the annoyed gaze of your silver haired lover who sits quietly to the right of you on this wooden bench, your backs resting against the stone wall. Its been a couple long weeks since either of you have had moment like this to just sit around and drink with each others company. Geralt may not particularly enjoy the surrounding company of the other tavern goers who fill the hall with their loud speaking voices and obnoxious laughter. But he knows just how much you love the easy entertainment of the civilians living their lives as they have a merry go of it.

"Did I not tell you my seductive powers would work wonders with that idiot from Bruna?"

"You did." Mutters Geralt humorously as he side eyes you.

"Ha, exactly. He had not a chance, try and steal Roach again and you will sorely regret it." You boast happily before taking a swig of your drink, "Hmm, this tastes not half bad either. I've had better of course, but this, not a terribly shit drink in all honesty."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it then."

You smile brightly at your stoic Witcher, he appears rather unenthusiastic but you know what emotions lay behind those two golden eyes of his. He's greatly content having you sit next to him and ramble on about your cleverness in the face of mortal men. He'd have no one else in the entire Continent do such a thing but you, and that's why you love him.

"Right? Great mead, anyways I am a force to be reckoned with, and you know he might have even pissed himself once I gave him a fright. It's what I like to do, lure them in with coy beauty and.." You scrunch your nose while making a fist, "...I got them in my clutches. They never even saw it coming."

"Not once." Agrees Geralt as you lean an elbow against the table to lazily look up at his handsome face.

"You know what?" You ask slyly, scarlet irises trailing all around his face.

"Hmm?"

"You actually look very nice in this lighting, the way you just look around at everyone like you hate the world. It's very sexy." He raises a brow as you smile, "Aside from the stench of horse, sweat, and blood that seems to ever linger on your skin..there's just something about your particular scent that I cannot quite put my finger on."

"You tell me this monthly."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Maybe it has to do with my blood?"

"No. Witcher blood tastes like old mule piss." You add before caching yourself, "Which I wouldn't have the slightest idea personally why. However I know a vampire or two who have divulged in that luxury and have lived to tell me....Not that it's a luxury as in a positive sort of mind, more so, an experience of indulgent sumptuousness for my kin." You're really trying to make this sound less horrendous.

"Drinking Witcher blood?"

You shrug half defensively through a sheepish grin, "What? I never said they killed these Witchers. Okay, okay, that also sounds bad. I promise you though, if they would have killed one of your brethren they would have boasted about the bloodshed. It's what vampires do. So no worries, your friends at Kaer Morhen are most certainly still breathing." Geralt simply holds back a grin as he shakes his head at you and your rambling.

He doesn't care if you know what Witcher blood tastes like, he wouldn't even care if you personally have tasted Witcher blood against your own tongue. He just doesn't want you to stop speaking, it distracts him from the sounds of the tavern goers and that bard. Geralt hums, "Y/N that could have happened three hundred years ago for all I know."

You pause a moment to think, eyes glancing from the window to him as you give a casual shrug, "It might have."

Soon the not terribly horrendous sounds of a bards singing fills your ears with the sweet tunes of an old lute giving what it can to the world as other tavern goers throw bread at the singing man. Oh right there's a bard here. You keep your witty comments to yourself as Geralt keeps his tense stare down with the wooden table while he tries not to grab anyone's unwanted attention, when you glance over to the bard again he's notably walking your way, drink in hand. What now?

Bringing your drink to your lips, you eye up the brightly colored bard as he saunters over, a peculiar smile playing at his features while he leans against a wooden pillar, "I love the way you two just...sit in the corner and brood, minus you my dear lady, what an odd place for such an exquisite creature to..."

"We're here to drink alone." Interrupts Geralt gruffly, you set your drink on the table, a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

The bard nods, looking down for a second before his blue eyes scan over you and Geralt once again, "Good. Yeah, good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except.." The curious bard walks around the oaken pillar before sitting down across from you and Geralt, "for you two. Come on. You don't want to keep a man with...bread..in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less." Inquires the cheerful bard, a smile upon his bright visage as he waits patiently for an answer. You pull your legs up onto the bench, leaning your right side into Geralt's strong body as you relax a bit more, amused by this bards bold questioning.

"They don't exist." You finally answer, tucking your hands under your arms as you attempt to get a little bit more comfortable. The bards give you a quizzical look, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"What...doesn't exist?" Ponders the bard as he raises a dark eyebrow at you.

"The creatures in your song." Retorts Geralt bluntly.

"And how would you two know?" Vouches the bard with a smile, excitement upon his face at this little guessing game he's just thrust upon himself, "Oh, fun. White hair...two very scary looking swords.." He quietly proclaims turning his attention now to you, "Hmm marvelous, irises the color of roses...dagger at your hip..." Geralt suddenly begins to get up, done with the bards never ending questions. You stand up yourself, the bard just continues to look at you two like you're the most interesting beings in the whole world, "I know who you two are." He confidently rules out while happily watching you both from his chair.

Geralt walks past him as you follow at his side, the two of you heading for the door as the bard jumps up to trail along, "You're the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia....and you're the dhampir princess, Y/N of Alkatraz. Called it!" Concludes the bard enthusiastically, much too loudly for your liking. You ignore the turning faces of the other tavern goers before a curly haired young man rises to his feet before you can reach the door to freedom.

"A job I've got for ya's. I beg you." He pleads almost nervously, you halt your movement as Geralt does the same, the two of you abruptly turning to face the man, "A devil...he's been stealing all our grain. In advance, I'll pay you. A hundred ducat." His eyes nervously shifting from you to Geralt.

"One fifty." Chides Geralt, the man immediately pulls out a small sack of coin previously hidden within his coat, a hopeful smile upon his pimply face.

He flashes you a warm grin as his gaze shifts from you to Geralt once again, "I've no doubt either of you'll come through. You take no prisoners, so I hear." He gives Geralt the sack of coins, the bard watching intently in the foreground, time to kill a devil then.

——

You were able to walk bard free all the way to the gates of the small mountainous tavern and twelve feet into the gravely dirt road before the bard had tracked you two down. Now here you are, a good distance onto the road as you head for the hills where this devil hides, Geralt leading Roach as you walk in front of them, the bard trying to converse with Geralt to his immediate left.

"Ah. You guys need a hand? I've got two. One for each of the, uh, devil's horns." Confirms the bard breathlessly, trying to keep up with yours and Geralt's quick pace up the hill.

"Go away." Grumbles your annoyed Witcher.

You snicker, just imagining what Geralt's face looks like right now as the bard continues to pester him, "I won't be but silent back-up." The bard cheerfully exclaims, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis, you turn to look at him with an amused grin upon your face.

"Yeah I bet you really know how to muzzle that continuous yapper of yours." He smiles back at you, turning his attention back to Geralt.

"I heard your note, and, yes, you're right, maybe real adventures would make better stories..."

"That's if you survive them." You interrupt with a smirk, glancing back around, catching the animated face of the bard.

He smiles to himself as he holds onto the strap of his old lute, "Yes well, you two, smell chock full of them...amongst other things. I mean, what is that? Is that onion?" You turn your head to give him a questioning look, he gives you a quick nervous smile before continuing, "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak, not for you two of course it's just a meaning..."

"It's onion." Mutters Geralt.

"Blood." You add.

"Right, Yeah. Yeah. Ooh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia and his dangerous lady Y/N of Alkatraz...the-the Butchers of Blaviken!" Bellows the dreaming bard, throwing his hands into the air, Geralt suddenly stops moving, turning to face the smiling idiot.

In one quick motion he punches the bard in his stomach, sending him staggering back onto the dusty road in a coughing and sputtering mess. Geralt turns back to you with a nod before he and Roach continue on past you, you give the bard a diverted look as he slowly picks himself up.

"You've been punched by a Witcher, how's that for your first taste of adventure?" You muse, raising an eyebrow at him.

Clearing his throat of dust he grins at you, "Better then I had hoped." He replies while letting out a small chuckle as he follows you up the road.

——

"Geralt of Rivia, the-the White Wolf or-or something. Mind if I hop up? I'm not really wearing the right footwear." Suggests the bard as he attempts to reach out for Roach's rider-less backside. You sit upon the mare in front of your man, Geralt kindly letting you lean into his leather armor clad torso as he holds her reigns.

"Don't touch Roach." Warns Geralt, the bard immediately pulling away.

"Yeah, right, yeah." He disappointingly replies as you lightly chuckle at the two of them. Soon you and Geralt reach a small tree, where Geralt jumps down to tie off Roach, you sliding off to take a sharp look at your rocky surroundings. The bard watches intently at what your plans are next, deciding to deliver some historical information about the landscape as he tells you how elves called this place Dol Blathanna before they gave it up to the humans. You let him ramble on, unaware you already are educated on the history of this part of the continent, you are almost five hundred years old after all.

You raise your head to find an opening in the large rock formation where the trail appears to lead. Geralt walks past you, sharing an annoyed look as you both listen to the bard rambling on about something you're not listening to. Geralt lets out a huff before turning around and walking down the dusty trail, you trailing after him as the bard lingers in the background.

Your crimson eyes trail over the nearby clusters of tall grasses as the bards loud voice fills your ears, "Geralt? Y/N? Wh-where are you two going? Guys, don't leave me. Helloooo? What are we lookin for again?" Inquires the bard noisily from behind the two of you while you walk past straggly protruding rocks and tall green grasses on either side.

"Blessed silence." Mutters Geralt.

"Yeah, I don't really go in for that. Have you two ever hunted a devil before?" He wonders as both you and Geralt stalk silently towards wherever this devil lays hiding in the brush.

"They don't exist." You add, pulling out your large silver dagger as you listen intently for any unusual sounds.

The bard continues to ramble on while you catch the sight of something tall hidden in the grass, you can hear the rapid heartbeat of this nervous creature. A second later a tiny stone shoots from out of nowhere, slicing Geralt on the forehead as the bard cheers excitedly about how "act two" of his adventure has begun. You watch as his eyes go wide once they spot the devil rising from out of the greenery, you turn to squint at the creature, unsure of what it truly is from here.

"Oh fuck." You whisper before it launches another stone right at you, with supernatural speed you shift to the side where the stone flies past your head, this time knocking out the chatty bard in the process. You and Geralt share a confused glance as you turn to search for this horned fucker before he ends up bloodying you next time. With the beast lost from your vision, you zero in on his thudding heartbeat, not even fifteen seconds later does the devil burst forth from the tall grass. Launching Geralt a good couple yards back as you watch in bewilderment, to taken aback to help him with his unexpected assault.

Within seconds your Witcher is on the hooved half-man, pinning him to the ground as they exchange clever insults with one another. You catching the creatures name to be Torque the Sylvan as it yells at Geralt before he punches the Sylvan in the face to daze him.

Suddenly you can hear the irritated thumping heartbeat of an unfamiliar being when something cracks you across the side of your head from seemingly out of nowhere, sending you staggering to your knees as a small trail of blood trickles down the side of your temple. Your hands catch yourself on the rough gravely dirt as your knees jab into some rocks while you land. When you look up again a large shadowed person is standing above you before they violently bash you in the face with their boot, then darkness.

——

When you wake up again your hands are chained to the wall and a steel collar has been tightly locked around your neck. Your eyes slowly look up to find an unconscious Geralt tied to an equally unconscious bard. The small stony cave prison smells of recent activity in the tell tale scent only an elf could have, shaking your head in agitation you listen to the quiet clinking of your chains. This is not how you intended for today to go.

When you try to pull at your restraints for the first time, you're welcomed with an intense burning sensation flaming the flesh of your left wrist. It appears whoever has taken you prisoner has coated this specific constraint with silver, so whenever you move it just right the metal makes contact with your exposed wrist, fantastic.

After waiting another ten minutes and listening to the bard complain once he finally awoken, Geralt at long last stirs, his eyes going wide as he desperately tries to look around the small stone room. Clearly in a panic and unsure how he got here in the first place.

Letting out an irked sigh you kick his foot to gather his distracted attention, "Oh good you're finally conscious, I thought I was gonna have to kick you awake." You quip at Geralt as the bard chuckles from behind him.

"Now, this is the part where we escape."

"This is the part where they kill us." Grumbles Geralt.

"Who's they?" Asks the bard before an elven woman races into the room, she smells almost sickly and looks even more furious as she kicks them in the head, quickly shutting them up as they grunt in pain.

"Beast." She fumes in Eldar, kicking Geralt once again as you hiss at her, gaining a satisfied smirk upon her elven features, you'd rather enjoy smacking that off her face. A dark curly haired one walks into the room, immediately his eyes catch the bards old lute laying on the floor next to your dagger and Geralt's sword.

You can't see as the bards eyes go wide in fear, "Oi, that's my lute, give it back!" Whines the bard as Geralt gives the she-elf a furious glare, "Quick Y/N, do your scary vampirey thing!" He quickly urges, you'd love nothing more then to shift into a half bat creature and scare the flesh right off this she-elf's bones, but a little problem called silver is preventing you from doing so.

"Shut up." Grumbles Geralt as the she-elf first kicks you in the legs and then Geralt, you're more pissed off then in actual pain from her brief assault.

"You shut up!" She barks in Eldar.

"My Eldar speech is rough. I only got part of that." Replies the bard as you roll your eyes.

"She said shut up." You implore before getting kicked again, the burn of the single silver handcuff sending fire into your wrist as you bite back the pain. The bard then replying to you in broken Eldar as you tell him to "fuck off" back in the same language, Geralt flashing you a confused grimace, unaware that you're fluent in Eldar.

"Do you wanna die right now?" She sasses, staring them down.

"As opposed to later?" Growls back Geralt as she kicks him harshly in the stomach, doing the same to the bard as he cries out for his now broken lute.

"Leave off!" Barks Geralt as she walks around to fiercely punch him in the face.

Your eyes shimmering blood red as anger flashes through them, "I'll slit your fucking throat you elven cunt!" You hiss as she whips around to thrust a boot into your side, the silver chain sizzling your broken flesh at the jarring impact sending you into a flurry of muffled curses, Geralt's eyes softening as he watches you grimace in pain, wishing he could do something about it.

Weakened with this one silver coated cuff, you're not even strong enough to break out of here. Damn silver.

The she-elf scoffs as she glares at the three of you tied up, "You don't deserve the air you breath!" Smack, directly into your Witcher's cheek, "Everything you touch, you destroy!" Another blow straight onto his face in the same moment that the curly haired elf breaks the bards lute in two. Well there goes that.

"You hide in your golden palaces. You beat a bound man, too scared to even look him in the eye!" Screams the bard angrily as you lift your head up higher so your steel collar can't completely suffocate your windpipe, the sting in your wrist keeping you alert and ready to fight.

She sneers at him, "Do you like my palace? Hmm?" She grins maliciously, crouching down to take Geralt's fuming bloody face in her hand, "Does it live up to the tales you humans tell?" She challenges quietly before you pull on your chains, striking her roughly in the nose with your boot, the burning of the silver worth her pained gasps as she stumbles backwards. Falling onto the sandy floor of the stone cave as she sputters and coughs, spiting out a glob of blood while the bard laughs.

"Yeah, take that, pointy!" He cheers as she coughs and wheezes some more from her pathetic spot on the ground, the bard suddenly looking concerned, "Wait, what's-what's wrong with her?" He wonders, trying to twist his head around to find you and Geralt. Suddenly a blonde haired elf and the Sylvan enter into your small stony prison.

"She's sick." He simply states, reaching down to kindly tend to his fallen companion from the ground.

Giving him a bewildered look you lean against the stony wall, "And who the fuck is this?" You snap, lightly pulling on your chains in frustration.

"He's Filavandrel, King of the Elves." Quickly answers the Sylvan as he rushes to the fallen elleths other side.

"Not a king by choice." Affirms the elven king Filavandrel as he glances over the three of you.

Geralt's brows furrow in thought, "You were stealing for them." He concludes with a sneer, blood still present on his lips, the Sylvan turning to answer him.

"I felt for them. They were forced out of Dol Blathanna."

"Forced out? No, they chose..." Starts Geralt.

The elven king snaps his attention over to Geralt, "Do you know anyone that would choose to leave their home? To starve? To have a Sylvan steal for them?" Angrily interrupts Filavandrel before turning his attention back to the she-elf, "Toruviel, no one was supposed to get hurt."

"What's three humans in the ground when countless elves have died?" She sneers, a messy trail of blood dripping down from her nostrils.

"One human. And you can let him go." Protests Geralt with a nod in the bards direction.

"Then Posada will learn that we've been stealing. The humans will attack. Many will die...on both sides." Insists Filavandrel as he stands, walking over to look down at Geralt and you.

"The lesser evil." Replies Geralt as he raises his head to look at the elf king in the eyes, "No matter what you choose, you'll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me." The elven king crouches down, almost at eye level with your fuming Witcher, he's in a perfect position to crack across the back of his scull, but smartly you think otherwise.

"That's the problem. I can't. This is necessary." Implores the elven king.

"I understand. As long as you understand...that it won't be long before you follow me in death." Replies Geralt dramatically.

The elven king scoffs, "Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil. Even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic."

"Chaos is the same as it's always been." You finally add, he turns to look down at you, "Humans just adapted better."

"You say adapt, I say destroy." Corrects Filavandrel, anger lacing his every word.

"You are choosing to starve. You're cutting off your ear to spite your face." You vouch back, his face morphing into one of great resentment and irritation.

"You think this is about pride?" He yells, "My elders worked with humans and got robbed of all they had. And when they fought back, they were slaughtered. "The Great Cleansing," humans called it. I called it digging a mass grave for everyone I loved. And now the humans proudly watch these very fields grow...our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don't wish to bury anyone else....I was once Filavandrel of the Silver Towers. Now I'm Filavendrel of the Edge of the World. If I bring my people down from these mountains, it would mean bowing down to human sovereignty....They'll make slaves of us. Pariahs of half-blood children." Explains the elven king, sadness and hatred coating his very words, you truly do feel for him and all his kind have endured at the greedy hands of humans.

"Then go somewhere else. Rebuild. Get strong again. Show the humans that you are more then what they fear you to be." Argues Geralt, trying to help these elves see the light.

"Like you, Witcher?" Whispers Filavandrel.

"I have learned to live with them." His golden eyes suddenly finding yours before he looks back up at the elven king, "We both have, so that we may live." The she-elf, Toruviel jumps to her feet.

"Please my king. There are others. A new generation. Evellien who wish to fight! Let's take back what's ours. Starting now." She insists confidently, Filavandrel pulls his dagger from its sheath and your breath catches in your throat at what he may do next.

"Don't fucking touch him!" You growl, pulling at your tightly restrictive chains, the clink and slink of the metal sounding throughout the stony room, right as the Sylvan races to the kings side. "Wait!"

"Torque, stand aside!" Shouts Filavandrel sharply.

"The Witcher could've killed me. But he didn't. He's different. Like us." Swears Torque the Sylvan, Filavandrel simply pushes him aside as you pull on your steel chains, it almost feels like you can't breath with how tight the collar is around your throat, the fiery burning of your wrist oozing red hot blood from beneath the silver cuff and onto the dusty floor.

Your Witcher simply watches Filavendrel's every move, a defiant look his his golden eyes, "If you must kill me...I am ready." Pledges Geralt softly, staring down the elven king the whole time, no this cannot be the end, not now.

Pulling even harder on your iron chains, you growl at the king, "If you end his life I will coat the walls of your golden palace in the blood of every living creature that crosses my path!" You scream furiously, tears welling up in the corners of your scarlet eyes as you violently yank on your chains, more blood seeping out from your silver cuffed wrist.

Geralt sadly glances to you before looking back up at the elven king holding his dagger, "But the Sylvan's right. Don't call me human." Continues Geralt as Filavandrel moves to his side for a better angle to slit his throat. To your absolute horror Geralt locks eyes with you before tilting his head up, opening up his neck for a clean shot of his jugular.

Your face falls before turning into a wolf-like snarl, "I cannot promise you a clean death. But by god, I will let you watch your people suffer!" You cry desperately as the elven king raises his silver dagger, wet salty tears unknowingly begin streaming down the sides of your cheeks as your eyes go wide in hopeless dread. Filavandrel gives you one last look before thrusting his dagger upon your lover.

——

You sit silently upon the back of Roach as she's guided by Geralt who keeps one hand on the leather reins and the other hand across your waist. Your fingers hold onto his muscular arm tightly as a white bloodied cloth covers your left wrist where the silver cuff burned and tore at your flesh. It still stings and most definitely wont heal for awhile, but your pain doesn't matter, all that's of your concern is the fact that Geralt's alive and so are you.

"Credit where credit is due." Starts the bard as he walks beside Roach and the two of you, "That whole reverse-psychology thing you did on them was brilliant, by the way." Says the bard before comically imitating Geralt's gruff voice, "Kill me. I'm ready." Geralt glares down at him before the bard continues, "Oh and you Y/N, with those incredibly convincing bloody threats, genius, they looked terrified.." He boasts for you, "That's the conclusion. They just let us go, and you give all of Nettly's coin to the elves."

"Filavendrel's lute not a charming enough gift for you?" You wonder, the bard swaggers with each step, a bright smile upon his dirty face.

"Yeah, she is a bit sexy, isn't she? I do have respect for Filavandrel. He survived the Great Cleansing once. Who knows? Maybe he can do it again? Be reborn." Suddenly the bard begins to sing, "Will the elf king heed, What the Witcher entreaty? Is history a wheel. Doomed to repeat? No that's...that's shit." Surmises the bard, squinting his eyes as the sun beams down brightly upon the three of you on the dusty dirt path.

"This is where we part ways, bard, for good." Remarks Geralt as you lean into his body, turning your head towards the bard.

"I promised to change the public's tune about you two. At least allow me to try." He politely insists as he whips his lute around to gently strum her cords, "When a humble bard. Graced a ride along. With Geralt of Rivia..." Sings the bard, happily strumming away at his new lute as he makes it up on the go, "And so cried the Witcher. He can't be bleat..."

"That's now how it happened." Grumbles Geralt as he quickly halts Roach, "Where's your newfound respect?" Wonders Geralt as the bard turns to look at him, an unbothered smile creeping onto his face.

Shaking his head he looks up at Geralt, "Respect doesn't make history." He corrects before turning around once again, "Toss a coin to your Witcher. O Valley of Plenty. O Valley of Plenty, oh-oh-oh. Toss a coin to your Witcher. O Valley of Plentyyyyy." He sings loudly, continuing to delightfully strum at his prized lute while taking the lead down the dirt path, out of earshot from your whispering.

Hugging Geralt's strong arm that's lazily casted over your abdomen, do you lightly laugh at the bards antics and Geralt's moodiness, "It's a bit catchy isn't it?" You muse while craning your neck to catch his annoyed golden irises, "Why not keep him around...until he gets sick of us or...maybe eaten by a werewolf, who knows."

Geralt raises a single eyebrow to you, "Our nights under the stars are about to get uncomfortable." He simply replies, hugging you pleasantly closer as he clicks his tongue for Roach to walk again. You chuckle at his adorably concerned remark, glad that today didn't end in sorrow and death for once.

-

Tagged:  @notahappytree​ @ashleyforeverareject​ @sokkasdarling​ @kmuir1​@haleypearce @diegos-butt​ (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

[hermit-pistol]

Okuyasu Nijimura Fluff Alphabet:

Hi guys, it’s been awhile, huh... I hope to finish this alphabet series soon and  I had a great time writing for Okuyasu! Click under the cut to read more!! 

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He will want to get along with his friends, of course. You don't mind being a part of the gang, but honestly, you just want some alone time with your man... With the group, you all go to Tonio's and perhaps meet up at Josuke's for a video game tournament (you're quite good!). Alone; however, you prefer picnics and walks through town at night. Okuyasu will be there to protect you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Okuyasu finds your voice very soothing, especially in comparison to his own. He will at times ask you to read labels on random objects or read his assignments aloud to him. He's a strange one, alright...

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He'll be flustered for sure, stuttering and not sure where to begin. He figures that a hug would be a good start; Okuyasu gives the best hugs. He'll also shower you with compliments and make you feel like the luckiest person in the world for having a partner like him.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Okuyasu doesn't really like thinking about the future, and he can't picture himself leaving the small town that he calls home. With you by his side, he's fine no matter where he ends up! He'll want to get married for sure, but the thought of proposing makes him sweat. That'll have to come later.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Despite the big delinquent persona that he puts on in public, he's rather docile when the two of you are alone. One could even say that he's passive in most of the decision making. Unless it's about food, of course. Tonio's reigns supreme.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

I know this will be rather short but, you and Okuyasu don't fight. The two of you know when something is upsetting the other and deal with it up front. Why have something escalate when it could be resolved so easily, right?

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Similar to V, he is grateful for his s/o being in his life and putting up with him no matter how much baggage he has. The fact that his partner still wants to stay with him after all the bad things that he's done almost brings him to tears. He loves you more each day for this.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Okuyasu doesn't really have much to hide. He's pretty upfront and tells you about his brother and his father. If you don't have a stand he'll let you know about that too. Besides that, he's a terrible liar. (he stammers and blushes a lot)

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You teach him that he doesn't have to put up a front to scare people away. So what if he lives in that scary abandoned house and in turn it gives him a frightening reputation? He can move past that, and becoming friends with Josuke is already a great start in breaking the mold.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Okuyasu doesn't really have issues with jealousy. If you're hanging out with the crew then he expects you to have one on one interactions with the rest of da boys. It's just something that he accepts, and deep down he knows that you'll remain faithful.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is so shy and hesitant…so you might have to take the initiative on this one. Later into the relationship he might grow bolder, stealing hello/goodbye kisses and even going as far as to smooch in public. How zesty.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It happens by accident, actually. He ends up revealing it in his sleep, mumbling an "I love you," as he clutches tighter to the pillow that he was holding. Your ears perk up and you can't help but smile. When he wakes up he's going to have some explaining to do.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Okuyasu always knew that he wanted to get married someday, and later found out that you were the one that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was a small wedding, surrounded by his closest friends in the quaint little town of Morioh. He is such a thoughtful and caring husband as well, always listening to your problems and being a goofball…there are no dull moments with him.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Okuyasu isn't too keen on pet names at first, especially calling you such names in public. He'll dip his toes in, starting out with baby and its variations. He later becomes addicted...and will probably forget your name. You're babe now.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

The wheels in his brain are turning, and they haven't been used a long, long time. He was definitely falling hard for you and was unfamiliar with the feeling. Of course, he's had his fair share of crushes but the mere fact that you could be feeling the same way has him head over heels. Probably runs into stop signs because he's too busy thinking about you...

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Touching on the letter K, he is very nervous to do anything in public. First of all, being in a relationship with someone is something that he has to get used to. Once he's accustomed, holding hands and wrapping an arm around your waist will become second nature to him!

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Don't wake him up if he's napping! If Okuyasu had it his way, he would never leave his bed for anything. But he snores...and kicks you... and makes it really difficult for any sleep to be had. That leaves you lying next to him most mornings, still awake. It does have its perks, though.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Okuyasu is really old fashioned and would take you on a date to Tonio’s. He also probably had something arranged beforehand with the chef so that everything was perfect, even going as far as to pick out some courses himself. In addition, he makes sure to tell you how much he loves you behind closed doors. By playing video games together- 😎

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He will be the overly-enthusiastic boyfriend that will give you the longest pep talks. You're not allowed to feel bad or feel like anything is unattainable with him around. He keeps you going and gives you the proper motivation that you need.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Every day is an adventure with Okuyasu. This goof always switches it up, and in this relationship, there's no such thing as a "routine". Although it can be hectic at times, you're both young and love the spontaneity of life together.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He's a bit oblivious, and it takes him a bit to pick up on something, if you're feeling down, (etc.) With time he'll be more in tune with your emotions and will understand how you're feeling. Being with others also has helped his selfishness greatly, and he can understand the concept of empathy and putting himself in someone else's shoes.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Okuyasu doesn't have much, and he's very lucky to have friends and you to support and love him unconditionally. If you were to leave one day, he probably wouldn't know what to do. Being with you has shown him that there's so much more to enjoy in life, and he counts his blessings every day.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

One of the activities that you enjoy (or at least try to) is cooking together. He will try his absolute best to help you because you usually cook the meals, but God this man’s a bull in a china shop. He’s so clumsy, always knocking things over or spilling the ingredients. Make sure you give him easy tasks like…setting the oven or handing you utensils.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Okuyasu is very cuddly in private, and can also be in public if he's comfortable in the environment. Basically, if he's hanging out with his friends he can joke around/flirt with you comfortably. He's always looking for an excuse to hold your hand 🥺

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Okuyasu is the best at letting you know that he's missing you. He'll text you all the time, occasionally sending pictures and being like, "Wish you were here right now :)". Being whiny during phone calls is also a thing, he just wants you to come home already!

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Okuyasu might think that he needs to overcompensate with his personality since he cannot afford expensive things for his s/o. It worries him when anniversaries and holidays roll around and he can't financially flex. You let him know that he doesn't need to impress you by monetary means, and he greatly appreciates it!!

[cherryblossomflowers]

Day 26: Naughty

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Summary: YN and Jensen try to understand why their son continues to misbehave.

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Depression

A/N: Day 26 of my writing challenge! The story from the reader is actually a true story about myself. No hate on any SPN Cast/Character. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

December One Shots Masterlist

Jensen spins YN after he helps her out of the car. They had just gotten home from their date night, something they haven't gotten to do in a long time.

It had been roughly a year since their last date night. And with 3 kids at home, it was hard to find time to do so.

Jensen had finally talked YN into hiring a babysitter for a night so they could go out. She was against it for a long time, especially being a work-from-home mother and it being 3 days until Christmas, but she agreed that they needed a night away from everything.

The two had gone out to dinner, went dancing for a couple hours, and ended the night with a walk around the park. Now that they were home, they felt so relaxed and ready to call it a night.

But when Jensen opened the front door, he knew that idea went right out the window.

The house was completely trashed. Their Christmas tree was on the ground with broken ornaments everywhere, there was water all over the kitchen floor, food covered the walls, and there was a game controller in the TV.

"What in the world..." YN mumbled as she stepped over broken glass.

Jensen looked around, "Where are the kids?"

They looked up when they heard footsteps running down the stairs. Their babysitter, Jenny, had a panicked look on her face when she got to them.

She was panting as she explained, "Mr. and Mrs. Ackles, I am so sorry about your house. I've been trying to clean it as fast as I could but-"

"Let me guess," YN crossed her arms, "It was Randy."

Jenny nodded, "Your son went on a rampage and just started throwing things and breaking things," she paused a moment, "But the trashed house isn't all."

"What do you mean?" Jensen asked.

Jenny took a deep breath, "Randy told Claire and Charlotte that there was no such thing as Santa Claus."

"He what!?" YN yelled.

"They've been in their room crying for hours now. I've tried everything to calm them down, but between that and telling Randy to stop breaking things..." Jenny trailed off.

Jensen pulled out his wallet, "Jenny, you can go on home. I'm sure YN and I can handle it from here," he pulled out a $100 bill, "Here's a bonus for...dealing with all this. We understand if you don't want to babysit anymore."

She took the money from him, "Mr. Ackles, I would love to come back any time you need me to. But maybe after Christmas when Randy is a bit more calm."

"Thank you, Jenny," YN spoke softly, "Be safe getting home."

Jenny waved as she left the Ackles residence. Jensen shut the door behind her then turned to YN. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, both wondering what they should do.

"You want to talk with the girls or Randy first?" Jensen asked.

YN closed her eyes and sighed, "You go to Randy. After I calm the girls down, I'll meet you in his room."

He nodded, "Want me to wait until you get in there do dish out a punishment?"

"Don't worry about a punishment," YN shook her head, "I've got a better idea."

YN started walking up the stairs with Jensen right behind her. As they got to the second floor, they could hear music blasting from Randy's room and their daughter's wailing from their room. They split up, Jensen going left to Randy's bedroom and YN going right to Claire and Charlotte's bedroom.

It didn't take long for YN to calm down the girls. Claire and Charlotte were only 6 and 7 years old, and YN was more than capable of proving to them that Santa was real. She knew the girls loved Christmas and they weren't ready to give up on the magic just yet.

After giving their mom hugs and kisses, Claire and Charlotte moved over to their doll house and were back to being energetic and happy. And now YN had to go and talk to her teenage son, which probably meant a lot of shouting from him.

YN closed her daughters' bedroom, "Now comes the hard part," she walked over to Randy's bedroom door and knocked.

She pushed it open and saw Jensen and Randy sitting on the bed. Randy had his hood covering his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Jensen looked up at YN and shrugged at her.

YN closed the door behind herself and leaned against it, "We're not mad, Randy."

Jensen's eyes widened, "We're not?!"

"Shh!" she glared at him, "No, we're not. We're just confused."

"What's there to be confused about?" Randy mumbled.

YN walked over to him and bent down to look at his face, "You've been lashing out like this for the past 3 years, but only when it's December. And we've never stopped to ask why."

Randy looked up at her, "What do you mean?"

YN glanced at Jensen before looking back at her son, "We clean up the mess, we come up here and punish you by taking your phone or your games away, and then we assume everything is fine," she paused for a moment, "But it's not because we never asked you why you do it."

Jensen reached over and wrapped an arm around Randy's shoulder, "We're just worried something's going on. We just want to make sure you're okay."

"And if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's fine. Whenever you're ready, we're here to listen," YN smiled.

Randy pushed his hood off his face and rubbed his eyes, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything, honey," YN replied.

"Why can't I enjoy Christmas like I used to?"

Jensen and YN felt their hearts drop at their son's question. They looked at each other and neither of them knew what to do or say.

"How do you mean, son?" Jensen asked.

Randy shrugged, "Claire and Charlotte get up every year on Christmas day and run downstairs, yelling about how Santa brought them what they asked for," he looked at YN, "But I know there's no Santa. I know it's you and Dad that put everything out and eat the cookies and drink the milk."

YN felt a tear roll down her face, "Honey you haven't believed in Santa in years. You stopped when-"

"When I got into a fight at school over it? I know," Randy wiped his eyes, "The girls still believe though. I wish I still did. Maybe that's why I don't enjoy it...because the magic is gone."

Tears rolled down Jensen's face as he listened to his son. It broke his and YN's hearts to know this is how he felt. And who knows how long he had been feeling like this.

"Does it bother you that we still tell Claire and Charlotte about Santa?" Jensen asked.

Randy shook his head, "No, not at all. It's kind of nice to see them get excited. I just wish I could feel like that, too."

YN sighed, "Randy, let me tell you the story of when I stopped believing. I was actually your age."

"You were 13 when you stopped believing?" Randy exclaimed.

YN nodded, "I held on as long as I could. But I stopped when I was at my grandparent's house and they were talking about my presents. My grandpa got me new colored pencils for my art class. In my head I was thinking about how Santa knew I needed new pencils, but when my aunt walked in the room and asked my grandpa where he got them, I felt my heart drop."

"Did they know you still believed?"

"I don't know," YN shrugged, "I just remember going throughout the day thinking about my past Christmases. I would remember seeing presents next to the tree and thinking how my parents got them for me and not Santa. I was so broken."

"What did you tell your parents?" Randy asked.

YN sighed, "I didn't, not for a couple years. They thought I believed until I was 15. That was the year that I started to really not enjoy Christmas. I would hate going to my grandparent's house, I hated opening presents, I even hated decorating."

Randy looked down at his feet, "How did you get over it?"

YN smiled, "I tried to find just one reason to like Christmas: lights, music, family, food, friends, etc. And luckily, I finally found it."

"What was it?"

YN turned and looked at Jensen, "It was when you were about 4 years old and you ran into our bedroom. You shook my shoulder to wake me up. I was so tired, but seeing that smile on your face made getting up before the sun worth it," she paused and chuckled, "And when we all got downstairs, you didn't go for your presents at all."

Randy gave her a confused look, "I didn't?"

"No," YN shook her head, "You turned to me and your dad and said 'Mommy, can I give my toys away?'. When I asked why, you said 'I have everything I want already. I have you and Daddy.'"

Jensen smiled, "I remember that. We put all the Christmas presents in the truck, took them to a local hospital, and gave them to the kids. And it was all your idea."

"Wow, I did that?" Randy sighed, "I wonder why."

"Because you and I see the joy in others," YN took his hand in hers, "The joy of giving back to others. That magic feeling you have isn't gone. It just got pushed aside. You just have to find that spark again."

Randy smiled, "Thanks, Mom," he looked at Jensen, "Thanks, Dad. And I'm sorry for how I've been acting."

"It's okay," Jensen said, "You're a teenager. If you didn't lash out, I would've been worried."

YN chuckled, "I've got to agree with your dad on that one."

"I guess I should start cleaning up the house," Randy sulked.

YN laid a hand on his cheek, "Let's worry about that tomorrow, honey."

Randy stood from his bed, "Well I want to at least apologize to Claire and Charlotte."

"I think that's a good idea," Jensen nodded.

Randy walked out of his room and down the hallway to his sister's bedroom. YN and Jensen watched him open there door and sit down in front of them. They couldn't hear what he was saying to the girls, but when they stood up and hugged him, YN and Jensen knew he said just the right thing.

"We've raised him very well," Jensen whispered.

"He gets that soft side of him from my side of the family," YN winked.

Jensen chuckled, "Yeah, but he got the good looks from me."

"Hey now," YN turned to him, "Who says he didn't get it from me?"

"Either way, he's a good kid. And he had great parents to help him figure that out."

"Yeah, that's true."

Jensen sighed, "You do know that we're going to have to stay up and try to clean some of the house."

YN groaned, "I know. But that's a part of being parents."

"We could've just punished him and told him he had to clean it," Jensen suggested.

YN shook her head, "No. I think he learned his lesson a different way."

The two watched Randy play with his sisters from his doorway. Every once in a while, Randy turned around and smiled at his parents. They would smile back at him and wave to him.

"I'm just glad he's finding that spark again," YN spoke quietly.

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories​​​​​​ @smollestbean-2​​​​​​ @kitwithnokat��​​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​ @desiredposion​​​​ @thevelvetseries​​​​ @let-me-luve-you​​​​​

@obsessedwithfandomsx​​​​​​​ @mangueweaschester​​​​​​​ @starchildwild​​​​​​​ @deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​ @unicornmadness2444​​​​​​​

@emery--nicole--morrison​​​​​​​ @spnfamily-j2​​​​​​​ @akshi8278​​​​​​​ @avocadogirl216​​​​​​​

@imthedoctorlove​​​​​​​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom

[honestlyandrogynousnightmare]

A study in Sherlock Holmes (s1e3)

So lets start this off on his inhumane tendencies. (FYI I do not believe he is a “high functioning sociopath”, pointing out his inhuman and sociopathic actions at the start of the series is just necessary to point out his development later on). BORED. This is truly when we first see how Sherlock acts in the absence of cases and distractions. He decides to shoot at a wall. The second odd thing we see is the head in the fridge. Its not exactly normal to keep heads in your fridge, though I'm not judging if you do. This sets his actions and beliefs throughout the episode up, perhaps not entirely ordinary and somewhat inhuman. This is continued through his behaviour towards the people who are making the phone calls. Its not that he doesn't entirely care, he focuses more on the case and the so called game instead. And that isn't entirely bad at all, its just clear that here, he lacks empathy for people. For whatever reason that is, whether he truly is a sociopath or he hides his feelings and emotions because it helps with cases. Though his focus on the case itself can go a bit far, especially the “although i did technically solve the case” part. Buttttt there is development by the end of the episode. Throughout the whole episode he ignores all the people getting killed but by the end he points out to Moriarty that "people have died" which shows that he does actually give a damn.

However, he does clearly feel upset when the old woman died and he was clearly stressed out of his mind when he has 10 seconds to save the little girl, so the emotions are there and you cant prove me otherwise lol. 

Something else I noticed is that he is self aware of his lack of sympathy towards the victims. This is shown so greatly through the “heroes don't exist, if they did i wouldn't be one of them” quote. It not only shows that he is aware of the usual human reactions when bad things like this happen, it shows that he is aware of his emotional repression (or sociopathic tendencies if you believe that) but you could also say (this could be a stretch but oh well) that he doesn't entirely believe in himself either, because after all, his causes are good, he is on the good side but doesn't see himself as a necessarily good person. 

Continuing on from my point on the study in TBB, i love his appreciation of the things he doesnt care much about. This is shown through the whole thing about the solar system, he cares about it so little that he doesn't know that the earth travels around the sun but he appreciates the beauty of it. 

The ending of the episode is beautiful to me. When he thought he had to set the bomb off, his entire façade was broken. For those 2 seconds, vulnerability and perhaps even regret are the only things written on his face. Because he doesnt want to die, hes young, finally made a friend and loves his job, death is probably  the last thing he wants. I saw this in a tumblr post a while ago, i cant remember the name of the blog but they said that this was the rebellious, rule breaking, disobedient child Mycroft sees and i think its a perfect summary.

This one could be a stretch too buttttt Donavan calling Sherlock a "freak" his expression does seem to change a little. It has always seemed to me that he really was bothered by people making fun of him, especially as he was made fun of at Uni and probably even before that. I'm not sure if it's me seeing things but it just shows that he does feel things and is actually affected by people like Donavan.

Now onto relationships:

The key thing about his relationship with John is the contrast between them, it's interesting how two such different people manage to live together. John is clearly still not entirely used to living with him, or perhaps will never fully be because let's face it, Sherlock isnt the most ordinary person. Their differences do seem to cause some issues though. Espiecally because John is prioritising lives instead of the game itself. Something I love is the "I'd be lost without my blogger" phrase. As funny and sarcastic as that may be, he does mean it. Because she literally would be lost without John, and that is shown throughout the rest of the series, everytime John and sherlock are separated, they're either not happy or one of them nearly dies. He does also give John a chance at deduction, not to make fun of him, just plainly giving him a chance which shows that it's not all arguments between them and that they are really friends. There is that small scene when John first steps out at the pool, when we cant see the bomb yet, when Sherlock really does start doubting John, so many emotions pass through him in that millisecond, I dont even need to list them, think about what you thought when first watching that. It was set up that way, us and Sherlock are meant to have the same reaction, shock, confusion, doubt, literal pain. Obviously that passes quickly, those emotions turn to worry for John. Something I feel like Sherlock never experienced to that extent, worrying for another person's safety. One other thing is the fact that they non verbally agreed to die together which is so telling of their relationship and how strong it is

His relationship with Mycroft is literally a classic sibling relationship put to the extreme. Sherlock is childish towards Mycroft, doesnt do a case hes interested in because Mycroft suggests it, and Mycroft is the stereotypical older sibling, calls Sherlock stupid every moment he can, acts like a greater human being but really does care about him.

Now onto Moriarty. Their characters mirror eachother so much, they have always been two sides of the same coin in my opinion. It's literally in their names "Colsultant Detective" and "Consulting Criminal". They're both smart, enjoy the game more than any outcome, and both have a great fashion sense. Sherlock admits it himself, "I cant be the only person in the world that gets bored", he knows why Moriarty is doing this, because hes similar to him, at least in that moment in time. Moriarty is what Sherlock could have become without Mycroft, whether he wants to admit it or not, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Molly and John. Though I dont believe they are overly similar later on in the series, when Sherlocks true colours start coming through, at this moment in time they are very similar. But anyway, their differences will be explored later on, when Sherlocks emotional side decides to show up. Though I wanna point out that Moriarty knows about Sherlocks sentimental side. He knows that he has a heart, and it's clear that Sherlock is just hiding that because Jim says that they "both" know. That heart, will later be "burned", apparently. And though Moriarty may not actually win after TRF, I still hold the opinion that he does partly, as throughout season 3 we do see how burned Sherlocks heart was buT THATS AN ESSAY FOR ANOTHER TIME!

[ratplagues]

🔥 any dishonored thing of ur choosing -deathoftheoutsider

wah okay!! i will talk a bit about the outsider and void then..i dont really wanna frame it as a Hot Take bc i have no interest in starting shit or whatever like ill interact with whatever i want to in this fandom and ignore the rest and everyone else is free to do the same but.

I do not think The Outsider is a “character” in the conventional sense, much less that it does his character or the allegory he wields any justice to be shipped with anyone in the series (at least without seriously considering the implications and framing it in a way that completes the allegory. more on this later)

the outsider and his void are an allegory for Otherness; i’m namely gonna frame it as queerness and neurodiversity, but really anything could fit as long as it’s about you feeling seen as a marginalized and othered person. he is written to represent this allegory, not to be a person with a satisfying narrative arc or dimensions. this is why some people feel that he lacks depth-- he’s not supposed to have depth compared to others in the series, he’s mostly a vehicle for what he represents, and is supposed to be easy to identify with or recognize.

he was born to a life of hardship, suffered at the hands of the rich and powerful, was ignored, cast out, etc. etc. a familiar story. poor, queer, nd, really whatever you wanna frame it as. he was a nobody outcast. in comes the envisioned, they pick him to serve as their martyr and idol without his permission. he then had his name cut away and forgotten, and was thrust onto a pedestal to spend the rest of eternity being worshipped by other outcasts who had suffered at the same hands he had. he has something greatly in common with those who worship him, including the very people who stripped his mortality from him in the first place, but because of this shared hardship (and nothing else), his own autonomous personhood was disregarded completely in favor of The Community needing someone Just Like Them to idolize. if this sounds familiar, that’s because it should!!

his humanity was taken from him, and in his place, an idol was created. his human body is frozen in stone in the center of the void-- retired. out of commission. no longer needed. he was immortalized, transcended. this is traditionally desired, although dishonored is trying to convince you that it is not actually desirable. in the age of internet content creation, you can be immortalized without even being present, without knowing about it. you become what you can do for other people, and what you cannot. people fall in love with an idea of you, the idea of you being like them, and other people come to hate you deeply without even knowing you. people came to hate the outsider more deeply than he ever had been when he was human-- he wasn’t seen when he was human. a pedestal only helps you to be seen. the outsider had the choice made for him to achieve immortality in exchange for the simple joys of being un-known.

he spends all of doto trying to convey this idea to billie through the hollows:

"There is freedom in being hated. There is license in being cast out. Some learn this lesson a little too well."  "These people lay their thoughts, their petty wants, their murderous desires in front of me to witness. I cannot turn away." "We carry what was done to us through the rest of our endless days. No one asked if we wanted it." (i like this one. he speaks for the community-- this is a shared experience, one everyone can recognize. however, as a Queer Figure, he never asked for this. he never asked to be immortalized. i like the double meaning here)

not to mention, the entire extent of the outsider’s Sole ability and influence on the real world is to “choose” people and give them untold power over others. this is a fun ironic twist on what marginalized groups endure from powerful people, (dishonored is largely about power imbalances and socioeconomic hierarchies) but it’s also fun to think about in the context of the role model/fan framing-- so many worshippers give their lives to be “chosen” by him. it’s easily framed as an exaggeration of otherwise very real power imbalances and often the flagrant breaching of boundaries existing between creators and fans.

and on the subject of the VOID...ohht he void.....

the void should be a haven for queer folks. for nd folks. it’s wanted by so many to be a safe space, it should be, it’s the Other World! it’s renounced by the abbey, crusaded against, even. but it isn’t. it’s just this limitless, eons-old horizon that hungers and starves for something to fill it. if the outsider is the lament of queer idolatry, the void is the lament of queer Hunger. it is roaming, and restless. it does not belong to the outsider; the outsider cannot survive without it. it’s the desire to belong, not a place of belonging.

the void craves this idol, this outsider-- i, for one, have often experienced hunger for a truly moral and just role model, someone to make the world Right, and i know this is another shared feeling. those who worship the outsider, who drive themselves mad trying to see him or be chosen by him, are suffering from this idol hunger. you see this in a lot of queer and nd kids and young adults. i grew up just having my life and interests like, punctuated by different fixations on different people that i didn’t know at all, only fell in love with the idea of. it happens a lot.

there’s a couple more doto quotes that really highlight this for me:

"They carve my mark into the old bones bleached by the sun. They carve my mark into their skin. They learn true hunger in the Void." "All these charms, these runes and fetid offerings on shrines made for me, will be nothing more than objects worn of meaning. Bones and dead things, thrown into the dirt."

“They learn true hunger in the Void.” is something that i wanna touch on real quick. people can spend their lives obsessing over the idea of what they think the void will cure for them, will fix in their lives, only to find out that it’s just a hollow manifestation of the emptiness they’ve felt all their lives. it’s not the needs met, but the need itself. you have to make the home, it doesn’t already exist and you can’t fucking run to it. it is heartbreaking, frustrating, one of the bleakest messages i’ve ever encountered in a game, but i’ve never felt more seen. by submitting to these ideas, the idea of a perfect unhuman human and the idea of a perfect otherworldly home, you are surrendering your humanity. you’re not only being transformed by the powers gained (if they are gained), you’re essentially dissolving with hunger after never having these needs met. you see so many people in these games whittling themselves down to nothing but base need. empty apartments occupied only by shrines, sometimes containing their corpses. journals of people dedicating their lives to the worship of the outsider, always ending darkly.  "I will find this empty place. Somehow the key to open the Void will fall into my hands. In time, I will learn the secret and he will call to me as he called to her."

not to mention The New Envisioned-- prolonged exposure to the void will always, without fail, turn a human into silver void stone. these creatures can no longer interact with or acknowledge the mortal world. they have surrendered themselves to hunger, and cannot be saved. this is celebrated by the cult, honored by them, even. i honestly like....i pity them, and i hate them, and i recognize that i’ve been those people, lmao. when i was at my worst as a teenager, i wasnt so much a person as i was just a shell full of hunger and heartbreak. my personality was defined by who i was a fan of. i think i definitely was Less Human then. the cult of the outsider is a universal experience!!

dishonored, at its core, is a celebration of humanity. it asks you to celebrate human emotion and weakness despite greed and bigotry. the powers are not to be wanted, they are to be ignored, refused. it is human to hunger, but it is Queer and Divergent to make hunger your life’s meaning, to need to learn the secret, find the key, be chosen and loved and cherished, to be made whole by some perfect thing. to find your humanity in something un-human. dishonored sees all that, mourns it with you, and then asks you to find humanity in each other !! love the spine of your lover, the blood draining down the docks, the pause to stretch languidly in the sun of a work day.

and finally...on the topic of outsider shipping....i dont think that, in his god form, it does him much justice to be shipped with anyone. he’s not much of a person, just a projection of his former self and a vehicle for his allegory as discussed-- im sure he could be shipped like this, but it just isn’t satisfying to me in any way. however, let’s talk a bit about his lethal and nonlethal ending. DOTO asks you to make a choice. is it better to give him an abrupt and merciful ending, after deciding that the fury he’s endured at the hands of others’ famine is too much trauma for any mortal to live with? or will you decide that it’s only fair to give him a chance to live the life he never got to, to return his humanity that was taken without his consent? if you choose to free him from the void, i think you can very very easily make the argument that he can be shipped with corvo, or anyone else that can easily be shipped w/ ppl. he’s finally free to live his life as a queer man, can explore the simple and complex joys of being human with other people, navigate the hills and valleys he never got to before. corvo’s just a nice pick bc 1) experienced human/inexperienced human is good, 2) they know each other, but they don’t. this is a good setup. 3) corvo is an older queer man and uhh you cant convince me otherwise lol! and older queer/younger queer is a self indulgence for me. also corvo is just nice. i think he would enjoy helping the outsider navigate his new humanity.

just some thoughts i have running through my head all hours of the day :) this is really long cuz its a combination of a lot of infodumps from discord lmfao