#unawaken

[typhoidcaught]

for @unawaken

" I'm sorry you got cut off during class. "

They reached out and gently pat her shoulder, seizing it back a little too fast to keep it from getting awkward.

" You seemed like you were about to make a very interesting point. "

[neotheaterz]

❛ what are you listening to? ❜ / lilith to hunter

The question is not one you expect , especially from the likes of her . A person fed glory and promises that was sin slicked with blood / secrets as all paths paved with gold truly were made , power was pain , and pain was so so much .. But she is a victim just as you , so you are unable to stomach grudges , especially when manipulation runs through the apostilles veins ... So you humor her / the curiosity displays .

S l o w l y you offer @unawaken ( Lilith ) the shell , scarred hands trembling as though half expecting such moments of domesticity to turn vile / leave you sobbing for mercy , especially from those who were once so hungry for your position inside gilded cage .

" the ocean .. listen , I learned this from Luz , if you put your ear against it , you can hear the ocean . I think it's because they miss home.. So it's trying to comfort itself with the [ memory ] "

[lunisolaces]

𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭𝑭.      for once the words are swallowed,  not because of the weapon pointed at her,  but because of the damage it could do to the other people close to her,  people who have not left her side,  who risked their lives to help her.        to say she hasn’t done any damage would be a lie,  a trainwreck of death unfolded in her path,  but it was not over yet.       not when @unawaken is still breathing and joel is…      and maybe it’s fucked up,  how the images that flash before her eyes aren’t those of the ones she has killed in her search,  but of those she lost,  the most recent laying dead on the ground as they speak.        cannot even process it fully,  there is no time,  but the blood that is running in her veins is boiling.        shoulders raise to a shrug,  uneasiness hidden.         weakness is not allowed in the world they live in,  she has been stripped of vulnerability and gentleness,  only showing it behind closed doors to a very select few.       she did what she had to do.       a neverending chant inside her mind.       𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜.

                                                  “       are you?       ”

[wiitchtime]

❛ i don’t feel so good. ❜ jeanne transforming into strider ❤️

                        ❝ –    jeanne...  ❞ TOGETHER, they were an unstoppable force, a pair that defied the gods and chose their own paths,but together...they were completely different people -- as though they enveloped in their own bubble reserved for them and them alone where they could drop masks and nothing could pull them apart, it's been that way ever since they were kids, in a world that was theirs. that magic, although has c hanged with the years past but it never extinguished. if anything, it got stronger.

                 the HOMUNCULI taken care of, they had a moment to breath, jeanne reaching up to massage her temples as once again, a migraine had come on -- stronger, more often after, if not during till it was too much for her to bare and she couldn't keep up appearances for her sake. it wasn't far off but the reversed track for the GATES OF HELL can be heard by their witch ears once the chaos settled, maybe they needed to rest...

                SHE ATTEMPTS TO LIGHTEN THE SITUATION, her hands coming to her hips removing the concern from her voice and more of playful, if she knew her best friend well, the concern would simply be brushed off when out in the open -- her vulnerability more reserved for... closed quarters.

           ❝ –   i heard sucking on sweets often help with a change of altitude -- perhaps the same applies to universe hopping. ❞ always one stashed away, she pulls out a pop between her fingers, winking.

             ❝ –    if you're a good girl and ask nicely, i may just share--  ❞ she reaches out for her back, unaware of the claws that would respond to her touch...

𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. 

[heroar]

❛ what are you smiling at? ❜ from makoto

                      ❝  –  OH-- it's just... ❞  no point covering it up now. SAURA leans back in her chair, her arms folding across her chest.

                      ❝  –  didn't expect you sound so passionate about something other than your work. never seen someone go so indepth over DIE HARD movies. ❞  so enraptured by this unexpected burst of passion over a movie franchise, that makoto's writing speed appeared to have increased and yet not even swayed from their original notes. that... was pretty impressive. SHE SMIRKS, bringing a hand up to tap at her cheek.

                      ❝  –  you got a little somethin' here. ❞  

cheeks red from embarrassment? or how fervent she was over movie lore.

𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. 

[adveanture]

      *      UNAWAKEN      /      ft.   beast      —      “      sometimes   when   you   love   someone,   you   do   crazy   things.      ”

belle   has   had   plenty   who   have   claimed   to   have   loved   her.         gaston      —      she   thinks   of   him   often,   even   when   she   would   rather   not.      even   her   love   from   and   for   her   father   has   never   come   without   strings,   for   she   has   always   looked   after   maurice,   not   so   much   the   other   way   around.      with   @unawaken​​,   however,   it   is   quite   different.            “      i   would   rather   you   do   the   sensible   thing   out   of   love   for   me,      ”            she   replies,   chuckling   fondly   and   quietly   as   she   replaces   another   book   on   the   library   shelves.            “      life   together   would   be   so   much   simpler   that   way   .   .   .      ”            and   she   would   never   again   need   to   see   the   life   drain   from   his   eyes   before   her.

[naksua]

“   it’s nothing you would understand.   ”        ✧     /     @unawaken​​

DIGITS BALL INTO FISTS,   IT TAKES EVERY FIBER OF HER BEING TO NOT SPIT OUT HER BITTER PROMISES         :         BECAUSE OF YOUR FAMILY,   MY FATHER HAS DIED A MERCILESS DEATH AND THERE WILL A COME TIME I WILL NOT HESITATE TO DO THE SAME TO YOU.    there is a reason why she had become the shadow assassin,   why she had stained her bare hands with the blood of many         —        it had been to get to this point,   only she had not expected to sit through so many interactions with the young priestess without slicing her throat open and letting it rain with the crimes of her wretched mother.    as her young master continues to remind her,   SHE IS NO LONGER NAKSU BUT MUDEOK,   A WEAK AND UNIMPORTANT SERVANT MEANT TO BE TREATED AS A DOORMAT FOR THE ENTITLED.    

and so she forces a smile,   a smile so wide that it’s certain to leave her cheeks sore and her attitude sour enough to project on her pupil should she run into him later.                 “  ah,   you’re right !    of course,   young lady jin.    you are correct,   i would not understand you or your life !    i am just a lowly servant.  ”                SHE IS UNCERTAIN WHY CHOYEON HAS YET TO TAKE HER LEAVE,   BUT SHE CANNOT RESIST THE FINAL COMMENT         :               “  but i am not your servant,   only jang wook’s.     if you plot to have me take the blame for your own wrongdoings again,   i will have to tell him.    as part of my duty to him,   because i am a trustworthy servant at that.  ” 

CHOYEON + MUDEOK.

[yandere-3-sagau]

The Unawakened Creator

Yandere!SAGAU x Creator!Reader

Imposter AU

Short summary: You’re isekai’d but without anything to prove you’re the creator (you are referred to as reader/creator/imposter)

warning(s): ANGSTTT, abuse, torture, blood, gore, self-harm, mentions of suicide, masochism, sadism, plague, divine punishment, revenge

word count: 1403

—

Imagine reader isekai’s and like usual they’re mistaken for an imposter and hunted. However, this time there’s no proof to show that they’re the creator. Their blood isn’t gold, their tears don’t crystallize. It really is like they’re just a regular person with the face of the creator.

With no powers and no one to believe them, reader is imprisoned almost immediately. The acolytes, so disgusted with the “imposter” do everything they can to make reader suffer before the date of their execution.

Reader’s cell is deep in the basement. Cold and damp with no light. The floor is dirt and their only companions are the rats and bugs that crawl around. The acolytes starve them for days before giving them nothing but dirty water to drink and moldy bread.

Acolytes visit them to throw countless piercing words and to have their turn at abusing them. By the time it reaches their execution date, reader is already covered in bruises with a few minor fractures.

The execution is exclusive, with only the most loyal acolytes having the pleasure to witness the downfall of this despicable “imposter.”

The acolytes gather around the reader’s pitiful form and the abuse they suffered in the cell wasn’t enough. Reader is sliced over and over again, allowing everyone to see their “dirty, imposter blood” spill.

Reader’s throat grows hoarse from begging and screaming for just a bit of mercy. Yet all that surround them were looks of disdain and some of satisfaction. Slowly, the hope diminished from their eyes.

Going insane from the pain, starvation, and humiliation, the “imposter” begins to laugh. Even as their throat is so sore from crying, the laugh is so loud that it startles the acolytes.

Disgusted by them, one acolyte decides to deliver the killing blow. A sharp spear straight to their heart. However, just as the weapon hits reader’s vital organ, there is a flash of light.

When the light fades and the acolytes regain their sight, they are shocked by the glowing golden eyes of the so-called imposter. They freeze in disbelief as they watch the previously red blood turn into a glittering golden right before their eyes.

The acolyte that delivered the killing blow has their body wracked with sobs, hands trembling.

The creator suddenly looks up at them, smiling. But it isn’t the warm and welcoming smile that they all dreamed of seeing. It is cold and filled with pure, pure rage.

The creator shuffles towards them.

In the completely silent field, the creator’s voice is carried by the wind, reaching each of the acolytes.

“Why did you stop?” the creator asks.

The bruised and cut up hands of the creator wrap around the acolytes hand that was holding the weapon.

In the front of all the acolytes, the creator uses their hand to stab themself multiple times. Pints and pints of golden blood spill out of their wounds, splashing on the ground.

Frozen with shock, the acolytes can do nothing but watch.

Despite stabbing themself multiple times, reader doesn’t flinch. However, at every squelch of the weapon entering their creator’s body, the acolytes cringe and shake.

“How is it? Is it enough? Do you need more?”

Seeing the horrified looks on their faces, reader decides it isn’t enough. They send the weapon straight into their eye, hearing the acolytes gasp and cry. The acolyte holding the weapon finally snaps back into reality and drops the weapon immediately.

All around them, the creator hears countless thuds as the acolytes drop to their knees. A chorus of cries, begging for forgiveness and for mercy.

Reader laughs at the irony.

“What’s wrong…Why do you guys look like that? Just a minute ago you seemed to enjoy watching me get sliced and stabbed.”

Apologizes stream out so fast that it hurts reader’s head.

“Oh…you’re apologizing? For which part? For torturing me? For smiling as I begged and screamed for help?”

“I will never forget a single thing you have said to me. Every action I have experienced will be forever engrained in my heart and mind. Your apologizes mean nothing.”

Reader forces the acolytes to stare at them, all of the wounds with golden blood dripping from their body and soaking the ground beneath them.

“If this is how you treat me as a weak mortal with no power, then you do not deserve my mercy.”

The creator was never seen again after that. But the acolytes know that they haven’t left, that reader hasn’t forgotten and certainly hasn’t forgiven them.

Everything that was done to the creator is returned.

Just as reader was trapped in the darkness, there is no more sun. The clouds are always shrouding the lands in gloomy darkness. Not even the stars could be seen.

Just as reader was starved, crops everywhere refuse to grow. Food from animals are spoiled almost instantly, causing the majority of Teyvat to go into famine.

Just as they suffered from the pain of their torture, the nations are filled with a horrible, excruciating plague.

The acolytes pray and beg but it only makes the creator angrier.

Where was the mercy when they were the one on their knees begging?

Years go by and the population of Teyvat begins to dwindle. The acolytes decide they finally had enough, and that even though it’s their divine creator causing this disaster and that it’s the acolyte’s own fault, the archons cannot allow their people to suffer any longer. They track down the creator with the intent to put a stop to their terror.

Reader hears that they are hunting them down and decides to let the acolytes find them.

The acolytes do not want to kill them but they hope to defeat reader so as to stop the pain inflicted on the people of Teyvat. The acolytes prepare long and hard for the battle fully aware that they’ll be going against the God of Gods, the reason for their existence.

Only, reader has no intention of winning from the start. In fact, their creator doesn’t even put up a fight. Reader wants the acolytes to succeed in killing them.

During their time alone, reader has tried to off themselves several times just to return back to their original world…but each time they tried, they failed and were forced to live in the godforsaken land that is Teyvat.

“You tortured me as a mortal, now you want to kill me as your god?…Well, then go ahead. Do it.”

The acolytes are hesitant until their creator says,

“If you fail to kill me now, Teyvat will suffer even more disaster than before.”

With no other choice, the acolytes attempt to kill their beloved creator. But no matter how many fatal blows they give the creator, no matter how many times their creator is struck down, they never die.

The creator lets out a piercing scream that makes the acolyte’s heart clench in despair. The acolytes unconsciously pull back their blows thinking that it’s a scream of pain… but it’s a scream full of anguish.

“Why?!” reader screams. “Why can’t I die?!” glittering tears mixed with golden blood stream down their face.

That’s when the acolytes realize that this was the creator’s plan all along… to leave them.

It’s not fair, reader thinks. Reader is able to feel all this pain and suffering but they are unable to die. All anger, revenge and bitterness leave the creator’s eyes as the emptiness sinks in. The creator sits there, completely silent.

Suddenly, the skies begin to clear, and green plants start regrowing all around what used to be barren land.

The creator doesn’t move an inch. They don’t respond as the acolytes speak to them. Even as the acolytes tend to their wounds, reader stays completely still like a lifeless doll. The acolytes would have thought that they had succeeded killing them if it weren’t for the endless stream of tears rolling down their frozen face.

The acolytes should be overjoyed that the creator is finally done with their revenge… but they are unable to feel anything but sadness.

The acolytes thought that the wrath and the hatred of their beloved creator was the worst pain that they could feel…but as they stare at the current state of the creator, they realize that nothing hurts worse than seeing reader, an empty shell of what they once were… and knowing that the acolytes themselves are the cause of it.

(now that I’m back im posting all of my drafts)

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

Unawakened Dream really awoke the plot bunnies! Enjoy!

-

The very fabric of Teyvat is unraveling — shattering into unseemly pieces; leaving gaping holes for the Primordial Sea to flood in. Mondstadt has long fallen — Dvalin and Andrius with it — and Venti thought he had no more tears to cry.

And yet…

“Zhong– Zhongli please! You can't leave me too!”

The geo archon lays at his feet, slowly crumbling to dust as erosion dared to claim him in the worst possible moment. The leaking of the geo archon's power destabilizes Teyvat even further. It brings Venti to his knees — threatens to turn him to stone alongside his last and oldest friend…

But Venti can't bring himself to care, as he grips onto Zhongli's crumbling hand and cries into his chest.

Zhongli does not remember Venti's face. He does not remember their shared battles, nor their hopeful songs or idle conversations. Venti is a stranger. And despite that, he gazes upon the image of their melting, shattering, dying reality, and dismisses it: deeming the sobbing archon above him more important.

Despite everything, Zhongli offers a calming smile, laying a half decayed hand upon Venti's unstained white feathers — a speck of soft and clean perfection in a disastrous painting. His voice is quiet and weak, missing his authority and wisdom, but it is still Zhongli.

“You… are important to me. Do not cry; one needn't waste tears over the inevitable and irreversible.”

‘Inevitable and irreversible.’ The thought stills him.

Because nothing is irreversible. Not to that spark split in three. Not to the power long abandoned. Not to the Shade of Time.

It has been millenia since the use of such power. Centuries since he'd thought of it…

Mondstadt would live.

Zhongli would live.

The tears don't stop at this realization, but Venti's grin isn't dampened as he looks into the clouded eyes of the only one left, “Nothing's irreversible Zhongli — not to me! I can fix this! I will fix this! I'll fix Teyvat– I'll save you!”

His words seem to send Zhongli into deep thought, but he speaks before Venti can even begin to draw upon those dimmed sparks, “Is that a promise?”

‘A contract?’ And Venti pauses. Because Zhongli does not know what power those words hold. Does not know that he is the God of Contracts, does not know that a promise bound by him is one impossible to break without severe consequence.

Venti has never entered a proper contract. Though he has always protected Mondstadt (he failed them), if he really felt like it, he could walk away without consequence. He has always retained the freedom of choice, even if the choices are mere illusions.

But what freedom is there if everyone is dead?

So Venti smiles — face marred only by tears, he is a picture of clean perfection amongst muddled destruction, untouched even in the final hour of Teyvat's demise. Untouchable, for even Teyvat's destruction is no guarantee of his own. He draws upon those faded remnants of Istaroth's power — of the power of the First Descender — and his voice is clear, echoing through the remnants of Teyvat and through the Primordial Sea, touching even the realities beyond their dream,

“I'll fix Teyvat, or die trying. May this contract be bound in stone.”

-

So yeah, may or may not make an actual fic, and did NOT intend this to be as ZhongVen as it was, but that image of Venti using Istaroth's power (of BEING Istaroth) really refused to leave me alone lol. I think it's mostly because I ADORE writing time loops, so even if I do already headcanon Venti as a time manipulator, seeing it in animated form... the temptation was too strong lol

[venlurina-nation]

“Barbatos?… Or should I call you …[Redacted]”

[massiveladycat]

guys please please please venti is so endgame material its not even funny. he's nonchalant and carefree but also the most mysterious and literally imagine how poetic it would be; to end the game with your first ever archon by your side (or against you) lIKE PELASEP LEPALSE PELELSPSSLEE

[lunisolaces]

                  eyes move to track what @unawaken is looking at,  the annoyed tone is not lost in him but everest cannot make himself care for it.      he has been judged in passing for how zealous he is,  but when shit hits the fan and he’s one of the few standing there won’t be any more laughs then.       people get killed in horror movies for their stupidity,  and reality has become a horror movie,  so all cautious actions are mandatory.       the tall lamp that he now carries everywhere proves to be a necessity.      “     what?      you thought i’d get out of the apartment unarmed?     ”       nowhere is safe,  he figures.      they had come together,  are trying to be a unified force to endure these times,  and, even though there is strength in numbers, they are still far from safe.      “      it’s practical,  functional and i can do some real damage with it.      i go,  the lamp goes.      ”

[shiningliive]

Live Emotion Game Introduction 5 - Emotional Pieces

Lets have a look at Emotional Pieces:

As described on the official twitter account: When you cultivate the fragments of the idol's feelings - their 'emotional pieces' - you'll gain access to things like special outfits, and piece stories. You can also see a new side of the idols by awakening them.

Further Analysis below:

As expected, 'Emotional Pieces' seem to be the equivalent to cards/photos in Shining Live. In this video, we get our first look at what I assume is the initial set of SR (super rare) Pieces titled 'Be Elegant!'. The art on the Pieces is 2d, and likely ties into the main story at the beginning of the game as seen in the previous Story gameplay preview with the same background. The four diamonds to the right of the 'Be Elegant!' title likely either representing the cards rarity as an SR, or the amount that is has been awakened (diamonds could fill with colour to indicate awakening).

Screen 1 - Piece Levelling

In this clip we see Masato's 'Be Elegant!' SR Piece levelled up from 1-11 with the use of two EXP Score (S), and two EXP Score (M). The number above the area to select how many EXP Scores to use shows how many of each item you own. EXP Score (S) earns 100 EXP EXP Score (M) earns 1,000 EXP EXP Score (L) earns 10,000 EXP

We can also see there there are three categories of Pieces. Sing, Dance, and Charm. It's likely that each idol can be different categories depending on the Piece (Eg, one Masato SR could be Charm type as seen in this video, and another could be Dance type). Levelling up the Piece adds slightly more to the Piece's assigned type than the others (Masato's Sing and Dance points get an additional 100 points, and his Charm gets an additional 104.

Each Piece has also has an assigned 'Life' value, assumedly similar to stamina in Shining Live. In this case likely each cards 'Life' value being added together to give you a value for your stamina bar.

Under the Life value on the left shows the level of the Pieces Skills. Main Skill, Idol Skill, and Guest Skill.

The buttons at the bottom read (from left to right): Reset, Omakase (Auto?), Confirm, and 'Piece Board'.

Screen 2-3 - Piece Board

This looks to be the various unlockables for each Piece.

The Top tree is unlockables for Story , the middle tree for Skills, and the bottom tree for Costume/Voicelines. Each also had additional unlocks for extra Charm, Dance, Sing, and Life points. They are levelled up with the pink gems seen in the popup screen. It seems each unlock will reward you 2 of the rainbow gems which are likely used for the Piece Gacha.

The outfit unlocked for Van is titled "Formal Wear'.

[disneystheweekenders]

If Disney ever decides to bring back The Weekenders with a smaller project (say, YouTube exclusive shorts with a 9 minute length similar to Bluey), would you be ever interested in it? Because I would love to see bite sized cartoons of the further slice of life adventures of Tino and his friends but in the modern era.

I have been grown attached to these characters and become my personal comfort characters, and it's one of the many reasons why I LOVE this show and its a shame that this show is often ignored by the company, even it did had those small glimpses once in a while.

You know, I used to feel very apprehensive about a potential comeback or reboot: the quality and consistency of the writing has always been particularly important to me. But listening to that interview with Doug Langdale, the one about him wanting to keep writing for the show? It reassured me a lot, and yeah, I'd be totally down for it. Imagine the voice actors reprising their roles, now that they are so popular... it would be magical. The Youtube exclusive shorts suggestion is a clever one because the old episodes were short anyway, it'd be perfect for the 'weekend-only' format and they would never run out of ideas! I am still bitter over the show's cancellation occurring right before the last five (or so) scripts were produced, especially when creator kept saying that the show would get 'weirder'. Guess we'll never find out what he meant.

[deerthorn]

You are on a path, in the woods.

[adveanture]

      *      UNAWAKEN      /      ft.   evil   queen      —      “      the   fuck   is   this?      ”

snow   flinches   back   from   her   stepmother’s   anger.         she   steps   away   from   the   pie   she’s   been   helping   the   cooks   bake,   flour-dusted   hands   clasped   in   front   of   her,   looking   to   @unawaken​​   with   wide,   fearful   eyes.            “      i      —      i   finished   my   work   already,   your   majesty,   i   swear   it!      ”            and   snow   white   loves   to   bake!      her   governess   used   to   allow   her   to   bake   cookies   and   other   treats   for   the   castle   while   her   father   was   alive.      but   she   has   not   seen   gerta   in   months,   ever   since   she   protested   the   queen’s   treatment   of   snow.