#which is going to be a nightmare and a half

[p0orbaby]

Reader being Beth Mead’s little sister & is dating Leah. Beth finding them in a compromising position/situation (shagging) 🤣🤣 feel like this would make a funny story

-

Beth has always been overprotective. It’s in her nature, like her knack for nutmegging defenders or her inexplicable hatred of pineapple on pizza. Growing up, you couldn’t so much as look at someone without Beth launching into her overbearing big-sister routine: “Who’s that? What do they want? Do I need to have a word?”

So naturally, when you start dating Leah Williamson—her teammate and captain of England—you make a pact with her to keep it under wraps for a bit. Just until Beth gets used to the idea.

That was six months ago.

Which explains why you’re currently in Beth’s spare room, shirt on the floor, Leah’s hair sticking to her face, and your brain short-circuiting as the door slams open.

“What the actual fuck?” Beth’s voice slices through the air like a referee’s whistle.

“Beth!” you shriek, scrambling for the duvet, which is already half-tangled around Leah.

“Mead-o,” Leah starts, holding up her hands like she’s negotiating a hostage situation, except she’s also very much topless. “I can explain—”

“Explain what?!” Beth snaps, her face a mix of outrage and something dangerously close to amusement. “Why you’re shagging my little sister in my house?”

“This isn’t—” you start, but you’re not even sure where that sentence is going.

“This isn’t what?” Beth interrupts, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that infuriatingly smug way she’s perfected over the years. “What it looks like? Because it looks like my friend is banging my sister on my spare bed”

Leah winces. “Don’t say ‘banging’”

“Sorry. Would you prefer I say ‘fornicating’? ‘Getting it on’? ‘Knocking boots’?”

“Beth!” you yell, throwing a pillow at her, which she bats away with infuriating ease.

The room falls into a horrifically awkward silence. You can hear Leah’s breathing beside you, shallow and uneven, and somewhere in the distance, the hum of Beth’s washing machine hitting its spin cycle.

“How long?” Beth finally asks, her tone softer now but no less accusatory.

“Six months,” Leah admits, sitting up and grabbing her shirt from the floor. “We were going to tell you—”

“Oh, were you?” Beth cuts her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Before or after I walked in on this absolute nightmare?”

“Can you not call my love life a nightmare?” you snap, pulling on your own hoodie.

“Baby, it’s her love life now too,” Leah mutters under her breath, which earns her a withering glare from Beth.

Beth sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s trying to summon the strength not to kill either of you. “This is mental. Fucking mental”

“Beth, come on,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to her. “It’s not like we planned for you to walk in on us”

“Oh, that makes it better, does it?” Beth fires back, but her tone is losing its edge.

Leah stands, hands stuffed in her pockets, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever seen her. “Beth, look. I know this is… not ideal. But I love her. And I would never hurt her. You know that”

Beth stares at Leah for what feels like an eternity, then at you, then back at Leah. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But if I hear anything—”

“You won’t,” you both say in unison.

Beth shakes her head, muttering something about needing a drink, and leaves the room.

As the door closes, you collapse back onto the bed, groaning. “Well, that went well”

Leah snorts, climbing in beside you. “Could’ve been worse”

“How?”

“She could’ve filmed it for blackmail.”

You shove her, but you’re laughing now, the tension broken.

Later, when you’re all sitting around the kitchen table, Beth pours herself a very large glass of wine and declares, “For the record, I still think this is weird”

“Noted,” Leah says, raising her tea in mock salute.

“And don’t think this means I’m going easy on you at training,” Beth adds, pointing at Leah with a fork.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Leah replies, grinning.

And as deranged and mortifying as the whole thing was, you can’t help but feel relieved. Because if Beth didn’t truly care, she wouldn’t be sitting here, threatening Leah with a fork.

[angelpuns]

Mikey stretched his arms up, then out, then stretched each of the fingers. They always ached in the early morning like this, but it was slowly getting better, bit by bit. He pulled on the special gloves Donnie had made him and headed for the kitchen, only yawning a little bit as he went. 

Maybe they'd have something easy today, yesterday’s fight was surprisingly long….

He usually slept like a baby after missions, but something was nagging at him. He hadn't been able to figure it out before bed last night, and the worry seemed to dissipate as he got up for the day. He chalked it up to the whole witch-incident, even if the spell had been a complete dud. 

Some witches just weren't cut out for it, he guessed. 

Mikey was shocked to see the kitchen light was already on, and when he peeked around the corner he got an even more surprising sight. Leo was already up, hand on his hip as he rifled through the cabinet for breakfast. 

“Morning, Leo! I was gonna whip up some eggs and toast if ya wanna wait a little, “ Mikey started, voice soft in case Leo hasn't actually slept, as he seemed to have trouble doing these days. Well, more trouble than usual, anyway. 

Leo didn't answer for a moment, but he did go still. Like he'd heard Mikey, but was afraid to answer. 

“uh…you okay, Lee?” Mikey asked again, slowly walking towards his brother.

After the invasion - which was nearly a year and a half ago now - they'd all had trouble adjusting. They'd been beaten down both mentally and physically, and the recovery was long and slow. They were all still recovering, Leo included. 

So it wasn’t too strange for him to not answer them sometimes, or for him to act strangely for no apparent reason. His panic attacks and nightmares had become less frequent as time went on, but they'd all learned how to help. 

So maybe it was just something like that! Even though Mikey had never had Leo just ignore him like this before. Usually he at least acknowledged him or tried to communicate in other ways. 

Maybe this was just a new development, and they'd help Leo through it like always! 

Leo slowly turned around, with a faintly anxious expression. His breathing was even, though, and his eyes were plenty focused. So not a panic attack, but his demeanor was still…weird. 

Leo stated at him with wide eyes for a moment, before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Um…sorry, this is a really weird question, but…who are you, exactly?” 

Mikey blinked. 

Well, that was new. 

He ran through a list of Leo's previous symptoms, and sometimes, yeah, he didn't exactly recognize them. But this was a clearly very cognizant and not panicking Leo, so it couldn’t be- 

And then Mikey remembered the thing in the back of his mind. The worry that had been lingering since their fight yesterday. 

What if the spell hadn't been a dud? 

“ well this isn't good….”

--------

Another part to that one au idea. I still don't know what to call it, but I'm kinda hopping around the ideas for it. I don't usually write in such little parts like this, so maybe it will become something idk :)

Technically this is exactly how wirm was born so maybe it'll be like that LMAO

But yeah enjoy Mikey being like ' ah yes the trauma' and then realizing that ' oh that's not the trauma '.

This part happens BEFORE the last blurb I posted btw, so I'm labelling it part one :) Chronologically it happens the morning before part two ;)

Part Two

[enden-k]

Just out of curiosity, if the things were to be reversed (fear Vika/human Saran), what do you think Vika's characteristics would be? I'm intrigued! Do you think their personalities might change? Maybe Saran would be less closed off? The fear itself (you mentioned it was like phobias? Iirc?) Would change?

Totally not trying to get you to talk more about lore and what goes behind fears/Saran turning into one, no sir-

"fear" is just the term used for any type of paranormal being that manifests due to intense negative energy (most often resentment, anger, hatred, sorrow,...) : theyre ranging from ghosts of deceased, manifestations of fears and phobias, nightmares and spirits etcetc and some are harmless and neutral (they can always evolve into smth evil tho) while others are harmful and evil

saran is not a phobia/fear manifestation like mogu is for example; hes a special case of vengeful ghost who went through a mutation (dont wanna disclose too much or i spoil a good chunk)

if their roles would be reversed...thats such a fun question!!! i think i might do an AU of it even AHHAKJSBCK i thought up a whole changed, alternative storyline now

warning for tiny (non descriptive tho) suicide mention, just in case

if their roles would be reversed, half of it would basically be like "if saran didnt die" scenario. their reversed story wont go exactly like the canon story goes tho bc theres no vengeful saran, no fear seeker eyes, no azais questionable methods

sarans life would go exactly how it did before his death (just the 7 years later, in the current present); hes in his early 30s, finished his studies to become a doctor and doing the amygdala stuff as a side job as azais partner since he still refuses to mingle w the ghost world again tooooo much bc of his upbringing in the cult (he always wanted to be just a normal guy instead of constantly interacting with the paranormal)

amygdala isnt a big exorcist organization like it is in canon story but rather a smaller group of exorcists now (basically, just one elite now instead of 10). azai and saran never had the argument that led to his death and azai didnt go the villainous route (lol) which makes saran still one of the only ones who can see the unseen all clear like he sees the living (like in canon story when he was alive)

which also makes him the first to notice and see vika who is a sorrowful sad puppy ghost full of regret bc he was enticed into suicide by an entity and still young and new to the whole paranormal world. its the first time saran feels for a ghost and doesnt exorcise them. vika ends up haunting him instead of the other way around (bc of course they fall in love with each other <3 in every universe) and sticks to him while saran keeps an eye on him to make sure his pure soul wont get corrupted and he ends up an evil ghost. he wants vika to have the chance to enjoy the life that was ended so quickly so early (vika is around the same age as canon) and vika wants him and only him to exorcise him before sarans life comes to an end one day

basically, less dramatic than canon story i guess? just saran and his puppy of a sorrowful ghost living a more or less domestic life bc theres no amygdala doing shady shit in the background and no certain vengeful spirits eating eyes and trying to take revenge kajscbjk

their personalities are still the same, altho saran has less of a "creepy evil" side since hes no evil ghost anymore and vika is even more puppy i think??

[bigdvmnhero]

relationships: dick & tim

word count: 6,019

summary:

“I—” Tim recalibrated. Desperately, he scanned Dick’s face—his features blurred over, a wall of nothing; Tim chipped away: “You were a kid, who’ll blame a kid? They won’t hurt anyone again. If you want to, to, to talk to anyone—but it was a long time ago, you’re Nightwing now—”

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

::

The apartment had that new-in-town smell: mothballs and desperation. Boxes upon boxes were strewn on the floor. One of them had a dirty plate forgotten on top of it. Old pad thai grease. Armed to the teeth in his full Robin regalia, Tim felt vaguely underdressed in Dick’s kitchen—like there was a speech to do, and he was already forgetting the words.

“Did I lose you again?” Dick said, through a mouthful of his second demolished mango. He was eating them fatherless-style. Dick had been talking about—insurance, maybe. “What’s up?”

Across him, Tim straightened. “Nothing, just.” Mortified, thinking about how I almost spritzed myself with cologne before coming here. What was this, prom? Tim just needed this to go better than last time, was all.

Last time: Tim’s absolute trashfire of a Bludhaven visit; Dick’s rictus of a smile; Dick’s face going bloodless in the half-dark as Tim mentioned Bruce’s adoption offer, absolute god-tier cringe; why’d he do that? It was the same look Dick wore, that first time Tim brandished the original Robin suit from its glass case. Of course Dick disappeared then, all dark and brooding into the night, seeyanara, or never; Tim never could stomach a Never.

He wanted to tell Dick he was working hard to learn it, too—the Bat’s art of Sheer Presence. The way its silhouette inspired awe, stillness. That lately Dick spooked easy, like an animal trying not to be seen. That on nights Tim was almost catatonic with grief, his first half-formed thought was, I want my brother.

Tim said, “It’s not every day you eat scrambled mangoes in Richard Grayson’s apartment.”

“Ever since I saw one of our knife-throwers eat it like this, I always wanted to try it.” Dick picked up a comically large knife and bisected the mango, carving the hairy seed out, before scraping its insides silly. He handed one of the halves to Tim, anointing it with a too-big spoon. Where was this man’s cutlery? “It’s supposed to look like a bowl, then you can walk around eating like that. Neat, huh?”

“Guess so.” Tim accepted Dick’s mango concoction with a smile. Maybe a spoonful, to be polite. Watch and weep, Alfred. “You know, I always wanted to try eating a mango like an apple.”

“Well, we got two left,” Dick snorted, digging into the plastic bag. “Make your dreams come true?”

Do, please. Truth was, Tim daydreamed of it often—no capes, no mission, the solace of a brother only a nightmare-city away, and his quiet balcony. If Tim was lucky, a heart-to-heart. Namely, about the No Good, Very Bad Year he was having.

Same one he was sure Dick was going through now, if only Dick deigned to tell him anything.

“Let’s try it together,” Tim said, conspiratory. “Skin and everything. Sprinkle some seasoning. Alfred would call it… positively diabolical.”

“Oh, I’d move heaven and earth to see that look on that man’s face again.” Dick tipped the mango-bowl into his mouth, then licked his lips with sticky satisfaction. “God. This stuff is top-shelf. Which sunny, tropical island did you pick them from, Tim—the Philippines?”

“Just a freebie. From a grateful citizen.”

Wow, and he was starting to lie to Dick the way he lied to Bruce: with alarmingly little remorse!

The truth: Tim had seen the streetcam footage. Dick Grayson liked to linger longer than normal by that market stall on Hammerstone; stuff was always overpriced, but he stayed for the small talk, exchanging recipes and turning over spotted fruit, face soft with a small secret joy until some goon on busted tires screeched by, or the disembodied voice in his comm summoned him back into the fold—exit Richard Grayson, bereft of mangoes.

“A freebie, huh?” Dick said.

Tim shrugged. “Stopped a mugging on my way here.”

“‘Course you did.”

Tim looked up to see a secret smile on Dick’s face, the dimple deepening. Tim ducked his head—it was always intense when Dick did that, holding your eyes to wait for his words to land. When Dick pushed himself away from the table, Tim was glad to look without being seen.

The scrape on Dick’s elbow matched Batman’s data: Nightwing smashed himself free from a plexiglass wall when it came down on him; there was that wispy patch of petrified-looking hair near his left ear where the flames nearly singed his scalp off. Take a few drunk accidental teenage arsons, a rice cooker, and a wall outlet that hadn’t been maintained since the 80s, and you get a nice, toasty residential building that collapsed in forty minutes. With their training, Nightwing should’ve been in and out in five, tops.

Dick coughed as he groped inside the cupboard. Lung irritation, Tim noted. Possible airway inflammation. Shoddy haircut. Dick must’ve tried to trim the charred split ends. If Tim was there. If Tim had covered his blind spot. If Tim was someone Dick could count on from time to time, maybe.

Maybe.

If, if, if.

“Sorry, haven’t stocked the fridge yet,” Dick said. “Water fine?”

“Yep,” Tim says, popping the P, and looked at the carpet the moment Dick’s stagelight-eyes turned his way. His gaze had scanned Tim with that same cataloging sweep earlier. If Dick noticed the weight of Tim’s Mission, paling him like some kind of sepsis, he said nothing. Tim knew what Dick was trying to do. This polite distance, not quite cold, not quite warm, was a dead sea any man could drown in. Bruce currently was. Dick intended to leave Tim here too, in the rolling distance, where no eyes could follow. Fat fucking chance.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim, said Dick from the memory; staring from a boy’s impish face; those torch-bright eyes, holding his frightened ones. I’m going to do my act—’specially for you. And Tim had watched. And Tim had never stopped, how could he ever stop?

“So, this friendly visit…” Dick slid him a chipped mug of water. “B asked you to check in, or is this gonna be a regular thing from now?”

“Naw, I was just,” Tim waved vaguely. “around.”

“And you got free mangoes.”

Tim sipped. “Thought I’d share my spoils of war.”

The cold hard truth: Tim needed a reason to see his brother now. A work reason. No one wasted Nightwing’s time. While dodging stilted dinners at the manor and Bruce’s guilt-marred face, Tim had spent the better part of his days turning the adoption offer in his head, plugging a fake uncle into his stage-life, not calling Dick, and tracking transactions in the deep web black markets. He had a lead to a CP ring tied to Gotham’s cluster of orphanages—just more children slipping through Her fingers, with no one to come looking. But Tim was looking now. Ten years too late, maybe, but looking all the same.

Bless Barbara and her detailed surveillance notes. He’d set up the alert as instructed and lost himself in the Styx waters of rote work, wading deep, the world submerged into the dull clack of fingers on a keyboard.

Tuesday morning, a new video was uploaded—the price tag: half a million in crypto.

The preview was fifteen seconds long. The footage, cast in near-darkness, had grain matching those recorded on a point-and-shoot that hadn’t been in the market for at least eight years. JVC VHS-C Camcorder, that was how old it was. But Tim knew that figure in the thumbnail. Canary-yellow cape, bloodied knees and pixie boots. A costume for someone ten apples tall.

Only one Robin was fighting against the affliction that was Gotham in single digits. And Tim would know him; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim.

“Get a visual,” was all Batman said, when he called an hour before. This was a case he didn’t think Batman was even supposed to know about, but Tim didn’t press; that voice, floundering in the undercurrent, was all Bruce. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Lung irritation, Tim thought. Grainy footage. Bruce’s cryptic-as-hell phone call. Charred split ends. Nightwing’s casual suicidal patrols? Yeah, Tim was going to dry-heave across Dick’s apartment floor; the inside of his mouth was all sour, like something gone bad overnight. Dick knew about the leak, but not that Batman and his underperforming Robin were on the case, too. Tim was gonna have to do it again—like his first day at the Cave, digging up the memory of Dick’s ghosts, not letting the damn dead stay dead.

Dick threw a hand towel at Tim’s face with a laugh. “Wipe your mouth, Timmy.”

Nicknames, huh.

If Dick hated him, he was hiding it well. Like a child, Tim obediently cleaned the pulp from his mouth. Then, like a coward: “Could I—bathroom?”

read the rest on ao3

[raileurta]

In the miko in tfa au

As established miko is danm menace, she goes for the kill whenever she can so shes banned from fighting the human villains, (thanks inpart to her telling professor princess to go after the ceos and shareholders of the companies she hates if she really wants to make a difference)

When it comes to the cons however? Well she agreed no murder so they just throw her at the cons and try to stay out of the way. Shes treats fighting them like a game most days so they figure its best to let her do her thing. The decepticons as a whole are obviously freaked out by this nightmare autobot that suddenly showed up. Half of them are convinced she's a former decepticon the rest just think she's straight up insane. I can see megatron trying to recruit her if only to keep her from traumatizing his troops further.

Meanwhile miko has developed a frenemy rivalry with soundwave because she's both immune to his power and really into his music which poor boy has no idea how to respond to other then to declare her his rival and constantly try to destroy her in epic musical battles. He gave her his guitar to male this happen so miko thinks they're friends and that the battles are just jam sessions. That doesn't stop her from casually throwing him around like a rag doll whenever they fight but still.

Hahaha I'm loving everything about this ask. Yeah Miko is definitely eating the rich type person and will try to get everyone on board with her.

Miko is the autobot's feral attack dog and to the cons she's a living nightmare. The dynamic essential is:

Why not both be a former decepticon and insane! Most of them probably think she's both. I bet there's bets going on what the hell her deal is.

The visual of Megatron trying to recruit Miko to prevent trauma™️ is hilarious.

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Megatron: Join us Joyride prime! (Please please please I don't have therapists please)

Miko: I'll eat your skin.

Megatron: 😟

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I'm now just thinking of an anime AMV type thing with rock music playing in the background. Soundwave and her would totally jam out! Their jam sessions would be legendary to witness. They totally fight like little siblings now lol.

[fleshengine]

I experienced Mouthwashing last night (a friend streamed it to me because I'm too fucken broke to buy it) and I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it

Anya killing herself with the remaining painkillers doesn't make sense because they were labelled paracetamol which is acetaminophen. Acetaminophen overdose takes days to kill, so unless she was barricaded in medical for a lot longer than it seems in game it wouldn't have killed her that fast. We know it's acetaminophen poisoning as well, because she vomited all over herself. It's the only "plothole" in the story, which is impressive given its multiple POVs and jumping around in time.

I don't understand why Jimmy fed Curly a piece of himself, it feels like cannabalism imagery for the sake of cannabalism imagery. If he's just going to chuck him in a cryopod, and then off himself why bother? Then again, Jimmy's mental state is far from anything I'd even consider calling stable.

Swansea putting Daisuke out of his misery doesn't make sense to me because why not do the same for Curly? This could be handwaved by the dwindling medical supplies or as characterization for Swansea but it struck me as odd.

I can tell what the game is trying to say, and it says it because I've seen other people talk about it at length. Ya know, toxic work culture, guys will back eachother up even if they know the other is doing something terrible, that kinda shit. But some of the surrealist and scary shit just seems thrown in for maximum spookage. I think the game would be better if they cut the scary shit by half and focused more on the actual story they're trying to tell. As it stands, it feels a lot like "hey if there were two guys on the moon and one of them killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?" Obviously I'm being a little reductive, but that's still the vibe aboard the tulpa, I mean Tulpar. Oh yeah, naming your spaceship after tulpas, that was certainly a choice.

Honestly it feels like youtube/gametheory/reaction bait. It starts with big spooks and has surrealist horror sequences so the funny men on youtube can scream and yell. It's out of order so people can make "Mouthwashing in chronological order" videos. It's got a confusing plot so people can make "Mouthwashing EXPLAINED" videos. A lot of the story just isn't told to you and you have to fill it in or find someone to do that for you. You might think "oh well maybe it's 'show, don't tell' done well!" and no, it's not. The game specifically shows you so little, which is nice in a horror game but at the same time, I need SOMETHING to convey the information.

My best example of this is Daisuke in the vent. What happens to him? Dunno, he gets magically fucked up. How does he get the door to medical open while deathly injured? Dunno but he does. I figured we might get a little info when we go into the vent in one of the nightmare vision sequence things, but nope! It's just more random spooks.

Someone could point to me and say "ew stupid gamer needs everything spelled out with yellow paint for her" and honestly they'd be right a little. When it comes to games like this, with complex plots, time jumps, nonchronological storytelling, and abstract nightmare sequences, I would like a little yellow paint occasionally. You can be confusing all you want and I'll enjoy it but when I'm done I want to know what happened.

8/10, I'm glad I watched a playthrough rather than pay for it myself.

[effervescent-fool]

took him all of five minutes to figure out he could get on top of the mattresses

he is very pleased with himself

[beresaad]

HADES II ↳ Melinoë — Μηλινοη, "Dark-Minded"

[gwalch-mei]

what is the round table but the worlds biggest blunt rotation

[blueflipflops]

Had a dream where I commisioned a horror digital artist to draw The Guy™ that stars my frequent nightmares and they sent me an uncannily accurate hyper realistic digital art of The Guy™ at its terrifying glory at the POV of me on my bed and its mangled hands on 'my throat' and my hands grasped at its wrists. I sent the dude a 15 minute recording of me screaming and babbling nonsense in terror because i was genuinely suprised and scared that they got The Guy™ so scarily accurate then i sent them like $250 i think. When i turned off my phone, i saw The Guy™ in the reflection of the screen behind me. He lunged at me and i woke up with sore throat and a fever like DAMN

[e-adlirez]

Do you have any thea stilton ocs yourself? tell us abt them!

Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *awkwardly stares at my little OC closet*

Okay so two things about me: 1. I am not typically an OC maker, and 2. I thrive better on bouncing ideas off of other things instead of trying to create characters from scratch. Both of these mean that I don't make OCs particularly often, and the ones I do make mostly end up being antagonists or villains (as I find it easier to make a foil to a protagonist than a protagonist that everything will be bouncing off of). Soooooooo with that preface, allow me to show you my tiny, tiny, tiny collection of TS OCs ^^

The first one is a guy who was made for a concept where the girls go to China for a student exchange and have to deal with China's.... cutthroat education system, to say the least. This character was cooked up by me and my friend @starlight-4eva, and the name he's most known by is "Yi", or "one" in Mandarin. (He does have a proper Chinese name, that being Wáng Wěilóng (王伟龍))

Now, Yi is essentially a product of the aspect of the Chinese education system where everyone is publicly ranked so there is a motive to excel (but also to be super-toxic to those in lower ranks). He is extremely cocky, arrogant, and unfortunately very intelligent. He was in the same school as Violet in China, and he competed extremely fiercely with her for the position of top-ranked student in their class (if this sounds like two kids fighting over a video game leaderboard yeah it is, just imagine it in a school setting and the score is their grades). The rivalry is very one-sided but also not really kinda, since Yi is actively trying to mess with her in their competing, while Violet is mostly just trying to survive in school (and by that I mean bringing her A-game to everything). No cheating in exams though-- Yi is way too good for that! Besides, why cheat when you have psychological warfare?

For the longest time, Violet dominated her class's leaderboard with Yi hot on her heels, but the entire time, Yi wasn't bitter. Named "Er" at the time, he knew that all it took for him to take the top spot was a single screw-up. A single mistake. A single millisecond where Violet let her guard down. And it happened.

Violet fell from first rank to second, and he, now taking the rank "Yi", was ruthless in letting her know all about it, giving her the name "Er", which in Chinese means "two", but also has connotations of inadequacy, worthlessness, and lack of intelligence. He never failed to gloat about it, and as a rattled Violet attempted to regain her top rank, Yi was more than happy to watch "Er" struggle and fail, all while holding an iron grip over his new title.

Violet was able to recover from her fall, but she was never able to regain her top rank. Even in her gaokao, the infamous college eligibility exam, she missed the chance to overtake Yi by 0.1% in score. 0.1% too short.

Mouseford was a good place to heal and open herself up to new people with different ideologies, but in this student exchange, some old wounds burst back open as she finds to her horror that she is not only having the exchange in the same school Yi is studying in for university, not only is she in the exact same class as Yi, but Yi is just as arrogant and smug as ever. He is a walking, talking red flag (a male green tea bitch, if you will), and he does everything he does to make Violet as uncomfortable as possible (down to mild sexual harassment. Nothing too crazy, just him being an unfortunately smartass delinquent who constantly says he and Vi are "tied together by Yue Lao's Red Thread of Fate and flirts with her, knowing full well how uncomfortable Violet is with it. Hey, anything to throw her off her game even by just 0.05% of her 100%. A small number like that is enormous in an exam that's worth 33% of their entire grade in a single subject, right?).

(Here's some old doodles I did of him and Violet in 2021, something something I headcanon that Violet is Year of the Steel Dragon while Yi is Year of the Steel Serpent, something something Chinese dragons are unable to fly when injured on the crest of their head according to some site I don't remember rn, something something allegory to how Chinese communities is basically like playing socially political 3D chess constantly)

-

The second one is a bit weird, but you're gonna have to hear me out on this one. If you've seen him in my Artfight, then yes, he technically originated from a Thea Sisters fic concept.

Du Yaoguai/DYG is a snake demon (Chinese demon, not Western), and while his Artfight profile says all, I do have to give a little bit of extra context.

He was supposed to be an antagonist in a fic scenario where the girls, in a Seven Roses Unit thing, crash-land into a fantasy world based on mythical China, and because it's not supposed to be kid-friendly and because the Heavenly Court put a "VIP pass, no VIP no entry" sign in front of the world's barrier, outsiders are to either be killed or kicked out as soon as possible, whichever happens first. DYG, being a human-eating snake demon monster, has his eyes on the girls and would like to have them for dinner, and he's willing to use every trick in the book to get them to fall into his trap. Mansplain, manipulate, manwhore, if you simp I'm not stopping you, but my Artfight rules do apply to him even outside of Artfight

-

And finally (for now), this is Olovo.

"But E, I can't make heads or tails of this crappy concept sketch!" Oh, I know.

You'll get to know him eventually :]

Anyway that's it byeeee--

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Melatonin

A FluffyNight drabble to celebrate reaching 50 followers on this account. It's pretty short & not beta read, but I think it's alright for being written in one sitting. Happy reading!

Beep! Beep! Beep! The sound of Ccino's alarm forced him awake, pulling him out of the pleasant dreams he had been having. Even now, Ccino could feel them slipping from his skull, leaving him wondering what exactly he had been dreaming about.

The continued beeping of his alarm pulled him from his thoughts & Ccino groaned, pushing his face into his pillow. Blindly reaching for it, Ccino attempted to turn it off without looking, knocking his hand against the other things on the nightstand before finally managing to push the button to silence it.

Blissful quiet filled the room as Ccino felt Nightmare shift next to him. Arms wrapped around him & pulled him close, holding Ccino close to Nightmare. Ccino smiled sleepily, turning on his side so he faced towards the other. He hummed quietly as he observed Nightmare looking back at him with a lidded socket, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Whispering so as to not ruin the atmosphere, Ccino questioned worriedly. Nightmare shook his head & moved slowly, readjusting them both until they were situated comfortably against each other.

Ccino smiled wider & closed his sockets, holding the other in his arms. Together in each other's arms, they both quietly drifted back to sleep.

Bonus scene!

A shrill beeping jolted them both back awake, causing Ccino to jump in Nightmare's arms. Grumbling to himself, he slowly sat up & reached over to the alarm, shutting it off.

Sitting up properly, Ccino stretched his arms above his head & groaned as he heard his joints pop, rubbing the bottom of his sockets with one hand. Picking up his phone & turning it on, his sockets widened in shock as he let out a loud, "Shoot!"

Scrambling & throwing the blanket off of himself, Ccino barely noticed as Nightmare sat up in alarm. "Is everything alright?" Ccino stammered out a reply, mild panic in his voice as he began changing out of his pajamas.

"Everything's fine! We just overslept a bit!" Relaxing slightly, Nightmare observed as Ccino got ready for the day, rushing around quickly so he wouldn't be later than he already was. If he concentrated, he could swear that he heard the meows of hungry cats impatiently calling for their breakfast.

Hastily walking over to Nightmare, having gotten dressed quickly, Ccino leaned over & placed a chaste kiss against his lovers cheek, smiling. "Love you, see you later!" With that he exited the room, leaving Nightmare sitting alone on the bed with only a warm imprint of where Ccino laid as company.

[thevioletcaptain]

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[hjemne]

MOTHERFUCKERS I AM GOING TO SURVIVE THE WEEK FROM HELL 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[fluentisonus]

waking up from.a frightening dream at 4am in which a scary book was central which in the dream (could sort of tell I was dreaming on one level) I thoroughly believed was a real book that had been brought up the other day irl & that my dreaming mind was riffing off of bc I had not read yet. but having woken up. I'm not entirely convinced this is the case. and now I'm kind of scared to look it up tbh bc what's worse that it doesn't exist but I've dreamed about it several different nights & it's broken down my dream/reality conscious barrier (& I might dream it again??? this does happen to me) or that it does & I have to live in a world where it exists & I could read it.