#works the brain a lot more when you have to imagine where a limb would go when you can't rough it in first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spitdrunken · 5 months ago

Note

woorah... been real obsessed with homicipher, specifically mr. scarletella <3 really love your content of him like holy shit i love that manthing! i've had my mind on scarletella with an mc that mutilates themself for gratification, trying to stamp out their homicidal urges because of how it affects their life? or we could get unapologetic and odd, think of mc who gets off on brutality. whisks people away, holes them up in that abandoned building and tortures them slow, cutting into themself as well to make it 'fair,' “look, get over yourself. i can handle it, look.” forces blood into their victim's mouth and grinds onto open wounds, reveling in the pained writhing below them. i can imagine that scarletella would be there during the act, sometimes. i wonder what he would feel towards such behaviours? i think that the reason he is so drawn to mc, besides the 'offerings,' is the violence. that stranger comes and paints the floor red, then goes where he cannot follow. drags their prey into that dreary building and lets them run for the thrill of the chase. they always get caught; after comes the intimacy, mc taking their time preparing 'gifts for him,' which means they have to like him, right? they like him. they like him a lot! surely 'hunting' has to be a thing in the otherworld's culture, maybe those dynamics of predator and prey have specific terms. anyhow, i feel like he would think they're playing with him. they turn and run when he shows himself, do they want him to chase them, too? would they enjoy it if he was tangible enough to pin them down and make them scream? would they claw at him or would they lie there, since they (most definitely, a hundred percent) like him so much? if he asked, would they provide their name willingly? i guess one day, that all leads up to mc being led into the otherworld, and we go down the canon road drool... i wonder if he would like watching mc hurt themself in various different ways. if he would think their pain was for his satisfaction too burning, cutting, peeling their own skin off and shoving it down their unfortunate victim's throat — maybe he would feel something towards that. that they should be leaving it for him. their flesh belongs to him, he wants their soul, their being, too. i love the possessive nature of mr. scarletella. i don't think he's aware of how many different ways there are to express yourself, or what he even wants to express. his entire reputation in the human world is this urban legend who asks for your name, your identifier, what makes you you and reaches for more, takes your soul. of course he wants mc's name... it is interesting to think of the strong feelings he has towards mc (adami, or anyone's self insert... i'm actually super interested in how dynamics can be altered with however whoever wants to change their character)

notes: gore, character death, self-harm

hiiii anon your ask has been living rent-free in my brain, i love seeing your enthusiasm and all your different unhinged (positive) ideas collated here :D!! and i'm glad you enjoyed my take on mr. scarletella <33

putting everything under the cut because it's Graphic. if you're not into reading gore, i wouldn't recommend reading <3

ooooo i love the idea of someone who is desperately trying to keep their homicidial urges under control and, in an almost martyr-like fit, takes to destroying their own body to try and control it all… in the end it never works. and could you imagine someone who copes in that manner getting lost in the other world? capable of chopping off whole limbs and cutting away chunks of their own flesh with all of the pain, and none of the loss— because every single part of their body regrows! spoiler alert i am a huge fan of immortal characters turning to extreme ways for self-gratification so. drool.

unapologetic and odd! i love that idea too… shaking their head and sighing a bit when their victim starts crying before the knife even breaks their skin. they haven't even started yet! there's nothing to be upset about. a person who slices across their own skin before hurting the victim, to show them that they can take it, almost meant as a comfort but not quite. finding connection in the grotesque, sinking fingers into warm, throbbing wounds and popping the tips of their fingers into their mouth.

i imagine that he's always awawre of anything that goes on in the building, so he wold definitely know and see! personally, i also think mr. scarletella is drawn to violence in one way or another <3! quite a few of the monsters left in the other world are reduced to constantly throwing violent fits, so the world he created definitely has that effect on people. maybe he sees all of it as a kind of altar to him because of all the crimson, the colour he embodies. the puddles of blood, the sprays of it on the walls, alongside the stack of bodies left rotting in a corner. perhaps because he is born out of a scary story-like rumour, he'll always be drawn to violence.

oooooo!! i love your take on this. the hunt and the attack being part of a courting process, essentially. to allow yourself to be hunted and taken down as a form of submission to the other, a type of romance… mr. scarletella is already certain that they like him. why else would they have left sososo many gifts for him? and he likes them, too. a lot. he is sad that he can't return their feelings in the samer manner. his form is incorporeal, he cannot physically hurt others, cannot be physically hurt himself either. (in typical circumstances…) at most, he can play with the mind, coax them into giving him their name where he can do absolutely whatever he wants with them. i wonder if, eventually, when they are in the other world with him and he watches them getting chases down by other inhabitants, capable of touching them, if he would get jealous… :')

possessive mr. scarletella is so real and true!! it's all so overwhelming to him, poor guy. he becomes more tangible, more real through his feelings for them, binding him to the world with more than just the words of others- he likes you so, so much! he is absolutely the type to have such a violent type of all-consuming love. where he'd want to crawl inside your skin and inhabit your body, where he'd want to snuff your life out as long as he was capable of bringing you back to life over and over again. he can stand others touching them, killing them, for now, but only because he knows they'll be entirely his sooner rather than later.

once they give him their name, they won't simply cease to exist. they'll be under mr. scarletella's control, yes, but he doesn't want to extinguish all of their individuality. i can imagine mr. scareletella creating a little contained world just for the two of them, where they can each take turn being the hunter and the hunted, tearing into and devouring each other in an endless cycle… perhaps if he had not been poisoned by the sight of all their killings, his affections would've been less violent.

#cha.scarletella #cw.selfharm #cw.self harm #cw.guro #cw.gore

22 notes · View notes

cillpiines · 5 months ago

Text

Deathbound

Zedweek Day 4 - Hermitcraft 9-10 / Death

The Life Series has its own designated reaper. Jimmy has some feelings about that.

ao3 link

My name is Jimmy, and this is the man that ruined my life.

Things used to be good! I was just another player, and sure I had a few silly deaths, but so did everyone. I had a nice base, good allies. I wasn’t even the first death of the series! No one could mark me as an omen any more than they could Grian, which is the really the way I think this should have gone. I died to his trap and at his base anyway! That’s two of three!

But I was happy and alive and sort of mostly respected…kinda. I was working on it! And I would have gotten there if this guy didn’t have it out for me!

You think you know how this story goes. I know you! Oh, you think you know how it goes! But you’re gonna hear it my way now and see none of it was my fault!

I met him back in 3rd Life. That’s where it all started. I was at Grian’s bunker with Scar, and I’d just gotten hit with an arrow from someone, so I went to try and hide lower in the bunker, but then another arrow-!

With a whistle and a gory thwuk, an arrow speeds through the small gap in the sandy bunker and straight into the lowered head of one Jimmy Solidarity. Rapid velocity sends the sharpened flint blasting through bone, tearing through the tissue in its way. There’s no time to react, no time to scream, as his skull is speared through. Jimmy can only gasp in agonized surprise as his body seizes, nerves lighting up like fireworks.

He collapses.

For a single horrifying moment, Jimmy feels all of it.

For better or worse, it takes no time at all for what’s left of his poor brain to go spotty and shut down.

Then, something hooks around his very being, deeper than his crumbled body and ruined skull, and it pulls.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for someone to die!”

Being separated from his body is not painful, especially compared to an arrow in the head, but Jimmy screams. His soul is peeled away from flesh, leaving behind the stinging numbness of fried neurons for a frigid detachment from the rest of the world. It’s a foreign sensation and not one he imagined when he got the invite to this experimental series. Is this what hardcore players experience?

There is no reprieve. As soon as his new eyes focus, Jimmy’s met with a pair of haunted, glowing, purple ones only centimeters from his face. He shrieks, stumbling backward and haphazardly swinging his limbs. The figure grins under their dark cloak at him, something horrifying.

In his scramble, Jimmy’s heel catches on something, sending him careening with arms circling wildly to catch his fall. He fails to stop screaming, because what he just stumbled over was himself.

The Jimmy of the corporeal world is face down, saturating the sand red. Blond hair is stained dark around the arrow’s point of impact, his scalp still tacky and leaking blood. The blue shoulder of his favorite outfit fared similarly: dark sickly purple with another arrow—

Jimmy tears his gaze away, but the image is already seared into his mind. He’s fine, his data is fine. He’ll respawn back home soon enough and it’s fine and he’s fine if this scary hooded figure doesn’t kill him dead forever right here.

He’s pretty sure he’s shaking, but it would be embarrassing for a spirit to shake, so he hopes he’s not. The shrouded figure hasn’t moved, still staring and smiling. Jimmy swallows and opens his mouth to speak—

“Congratulations!” it suddenly shouts, tossing up a handful of confetti that it got from who knows where. Their voice is as deep and dangerous as Jimmy had anticipated. The noisemaker that they toot is a lot less so.

Scraps of purple and pink and yellow rain down upon Jimmy, stark against his twice-horror-stricken face. “What—huh? Who are you?”

The figure swings their pink shepherd’s crook and hits themself in the head with it. “I am…Death!...Zedeath. I’m Zedeath. And you’re the first to die!”

Jimmy’s shoulders slump. It’s really over. He’s out of the game first for real, if seeing his own corpse wasn’t already enough to prove it. “First out,” he corrects, recalling Scar’s near-immediate demise at spawn. “My name is Jimmy.” He’d rather not be marked as the first to die by someone forever if he can help it. He’s got a perfectly good name he picked himself.

Zedeath pulls a piece of paper from his robes and squints at it, holding it close to his shadowed face. “Not...you are SolidarityGaming, right?” he queries, missing the large S plastered across Jimmy’s chest.

“That’s me,” Jimmy confirms automatically, then kicks himself for it. Could he have lied to death to get back in the game? Was this reaper only playing a trick on him? He’s heard the stories of trials like that, and this fellow seems the type.

Zedeath makes a mark on the paper with a pen, then tucks both back into his robe, which flutters open into a dark expanse of void. The swirling depth and stars make Jimmy’s head spin, which he does not need any more of, thank you.

He takes the opportunity to instead squeeze his eyes shut and press his palms to his head, reveling in the steadying pressure. He’s fine, he’s fine. Deep breath—okay there’s no air in his lungs, but that’s fine. He pulls his hands down his face, cards them back through his hair. Imagines pushing a breath out. The arrow didn’t transfer over with him thankfully, but he doesn’t understand how it would, since it’s not a part of him anyway. He’s still relieved. He’s still here and will respawn after the game. Maybe sooner, depending on how his reaper works.

“Can you—do you do respawns?”

“We would be in a lot of trouble if I couldn’t! Ready to leave?”

There’s a tattered hole still in the knee of his pants from a slip earlier in the game. Jimmy picks at the loose threads. “Not much point sticking around, really.”

“Okay, rude.” Was he really? He does still have three allies in the game…

“I already lost, though,” the dead bemoans. “I can’t do anything.”

“You won at not winning, though!” Death says brightly, looking quite pleased with such a notion. Jimmy is not.

“I wanted to actually win! Or at least not be last.” Gosh, he’s last. “I wish I didn’t die.”

“What’s wrong with death?” the reaper asks, leaning on his brightly coloured staff to look Jimmy in the eye.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Jimmy can’t believe he has to explain this. “You don’t have to worry about dying!”

“Not until you all start doing it,” Zedeath quips back.

This guy has absolutely bonkers priorities. Maybe being a reaper does that to someone. The constant flow of death could warp their mind or something…Jimmy knew it would make him crazy if he was surrounded by so much of it.

Zedeath hands over the noisemaker and offers a fast respawn, which Jimmy declines. He’ll stay and watch the games for a while more, he’s decided. Maybe he really isn’t ready to go quite yet. The reaper ominously tells him that he’ll know when he is ready, before stalking off to another portion of the map. Jimmy watches him go until he disappears, privately glad to be rid of the spirit for now.

Finally alone, Jimmy sighs and looks down at his hands. Well, first out. But it’s still the first game.

He unenthusiastically toots the noisemaker. It doesn’t make him feel better. Okay, well, it does a little bit, but he’s not about to tell his reaper that. Maybe he can use it to go cheer on Scott and Scar instead. They’re bound to go farther.

No matter, Jimmy tells himself. He’ll do better next time. There’s no way he’s dying first twice in a row.

Fine, yes, dying was mostly my fault that first time. It wasn’t my best, I’ll admit, and Skizz got a lucky shot! But Last Life was completely unfair! It was an accident! I didn’t realize the drop was that far!

I didn’t even get three lives either! Mumbo had more than me and he still died right after, so really, I should have been at least second.

Another death caused by Grian, too. He was supposed to be my ally! If you’re gonna call me a canary, then you should at least call him…coal…dust or something. What kills canaries?

Heart pounding in his chest, Jimmy dashes for his life, rapid footfalls speeding alongside the hammering against his ribs. He pushes himself forward, yelling back at Grian to cut it out. His couple of hits were just good fun, come on! Don’t—stop! Stones skid under his boots and he prepares to leap from his pursuer.

His feet leave the roof.

That’s…not the drop he expected it to be.

He flails.

He hits the ground.

Nestled within the stinging pain that shoots through his body is the tugging he can now identify as being from a bubblegum-coloured shepherd’s crook. The pull of his soul from his body is a vaguely familiar sensation now, but Jimmy still screams, quickly pitching into a wail. Zedeath detaches his crook and watches Jimmy’s small tantrum.

“It was an accident!” the ghost begs. “I didn’t think it was that high! I didn’t mean to!”

Death makes no move to act on the plea, no sympathy for the plight of the loser. “Well, the intentional deaths are always better.”

Jimmy’s desperation crumbles into disappointment. He drags his hands down his face and wills his spirit back up to the roof his body fell from. He’d really rather not be on the ground with his corpse right now. Besides, a perch sounds kind of nice at the moment. He plops down to sit on the edge, resting his translucent chin on his translucent knees. “I’m out first again…What is wrong with me…”

A chill settles next to him, and Jimmy doesn’t have to look up to guess that the reaper has chosen a seat next to him. “I’d guess lots! For one, your skin was looking a bit grey even before you died.”

Jimmy huffs. The more time he spends with this guy, the more exhausted he feels. Death is the worst. Taking him twice was enough but he just has to rub salt—wait. He only ever had two lives. Surely Death would have been in charge of that? “Hey, why’d you only give—”

“Another thing is you’re growing little baby feathers,” Zedeath continues obliviously. “I don’t think that’s right.” He doesn’t even give Jimmy an opportunity to question what he’s talking about before there’s a quick and sharp sting on his back.

“Ow! What—”

But when he looks, there’s a small and shimmering golden feather between Death’s grey fingers. His throat catches, and he tries in vain to peer over his shoulder to where it came from. It’s not enough for Death to cut his life short, he has to mess with him too?

“I wonder if the colour is meant to match your hair or a kind of bird,” Zedeath muses to himself, running a finger along the barbs. “Can I get a sample of your blood? No reason.”

“No!” Jimmy shouts, turning so that his back faces away from the bloodthirsty and curious reaper. “I don’t even want to be a bird! I just wanted to play a game with my friends! What’s happening to me?”

“Some of your friends are birds,” Zedeath points out, squinting at the feather. It would be easier if he pulled his hood down, but he does not. “Oh, hang on, hold this.” He drops the feather back onto Jimmy’s head and vaults himself off the building with his staff. A moment later, Mumbo’s familiar voice pipes up.

“Oh goodness, that wasn’t much good, was it?” The posh lilt makes Jimmy’s heart lift just a little. Any company besides the spectre of death is more than welcome. He’s not alone anymore, and with his ally, no less!

Then the realization that he was so close to not being first settles in. Something bitter coats his mouth and he frowns, eyebrows pinched. Mumbo is his friend, but someone else could stand to be out first this time. He’s had his turn! If he had as many lives as Mumbo, he definitely would’ve survived past him.

The reaper and his latest ghost continue to chat out of sight, but Jimmy opts to continue sitting alone above them. The dark voice of Death reaches Jimmy’s perch, appraising how fantastic Mumbo is at dying, to which the dead gives a flustered chuckle.

Jimmy sighs and twirls the feather in his fingers. Still not better than he is, apparently.

I don’t know what happened! I swear I didn’t look at that enderman! I got under a tree!

Tango…I’m so sorry.

Jimmy gasps as the crook tears him from his body once more, a sensation that’s becoming familiar at an alarming rate. The searing pain in his arms and chest vanishes in an instant alongside the rapid pounding of his heart, leaving only phantom sensation and Jimmy coughing with surprise. He squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrant angry purple of his final moments still seared into his retinas.

He knows by now not to look down at his body. Experiencing it was enough, thank you.

Instead, he grasps at his heart and glances around. Zedeath can wait this time; there’s someone really important he needs to find first. To his surprise, his fingers actually catch on something. After all that time imagining it, the tether linking him to his soulmate is visible and tangible and gleaming a brilliant ruby red. Jimmy’s never been more relieved to see a piece of string.

He needs to get to the other side of it.

The thread loops around to stretch off behind him, so that’s where he’s headed. Jimmy spins on his heel to follow it, footfalls silent in the space after life, desperate to find Tango while he can. His rancher is out there somewhere alone and confused and dead and Jimmy needs to tell him he’s sorry!

It doesn’t take long for something to have him stumbling on his feet.

Ah. So that’s where Zedeath was.

The reaper isn’t looking at him, instead rummaging through those reality bending robes. His long dark sleeve conceals what he unearths, but only until it catches the light of the moon.

Oh.

Jimmy takes off running with renewed purpose. “Wait!” he shrieks, struggling to stay vertical with his frantic speed. “Stop!”

Death has already taken the thread into his hand, the blade of scissors held against it. Zedeath turns with a “huh?”, but he was already in motion. It was already too late. With a simple shifting of fingers, the soulstring is snipped as easily as if it was simple sewing thread. As if it didn’t mean anything. As if it wasn’t the closest, most understanding ally Jimmy’d ever had. As if it wasn’t an ounce of faith that Jimmy would not die.

The string is clipped, and it is unremarkable in how easy it was.

The broken ends of the thread turn a dead grey, which quickly spreads outward in either direction. As it goes, the string itself begins to crumble with it.

As it goes, something shrivels in Jimmy’s chest with it.

He needs to apologize to his rancher…but the reaper is right there. And Jimmy just watched him cut his soul apart from Tango��s. And he’s so angry.

His run towards Tango turns into a lunge against Zedeath. He shouts and scowls, spit flying and wings puffing up. “You! You took me from him!”

Zedeath screeches and collides with the ground. “You were the one that died!” he defends, keeping his staff between the two of them. “I know the rules to this game! You die and you’re out and I go snippy-snippy!” Jimmy brings a fist down toward the reaper’s puffed-up cheeks, but he slips away in a puff of dark smoke.

Jimmy’s head swims with adrenaline, irritation, agony, and…memories of an enderman he swears he didn’t look at. “No…it was you! I didn’t die! You got me killed! I need to talk to Tango!”

Zedeath looks at him with those eyes—those damn purple eyes! He has the nerve to cross his arms and huff. The audacity of Death to be the one annoyed! “How many times do I have to tell you! Killing is not in my job description! I just move your soul so you’re not stuck like that forever!” He swings an arm out toward where Jimmy knows his corpse is prone and mangled. “Is that what you want? Hm!?”

Jimmy clenches his fist. He knows they’re wasting time. Tango is all alone! He’s never been the first to die before! Still…Jimmy can’t seem to put a lid on his fury. If he was a little calmer, he might’ve seen the irony.

“I wasn’t ready to die!” His voice cracks and he mentally smacks himself for sounding so small. “You’re the one that takes my soul away! You’re the one that takes me out of the game! And you took Tango too this time!” I was the one that died. It’s not fair to him. He shouldn’t have lost.

“Oh, Tango!” Zedeath snaps as if remembering. “He’ll be able to tell you you’re wrong!”

Jimmy seethes. He is so sick of Death.

“You already took me out! You gave me these—these wings! Isn’t that enough?” To have Death turn his own rancher against him is a new level of cruelty, and one he’s too fired up to let pass.

Before Zedeath can say anything else stupid, that beautiful rough voice calls distantly through the trees. “Ze-e-d!” To Jimmy’s utmost dismay, it’s not his name, but the reaper turns his head with a bright smile.

“Tango!” he shouts back. “Over here!” He waves his arm as punctuation as if Tango would be able to see it.

“No!” Jimmy refuses, nose scrunching. “Tango!” he shouts himself, taking off in the direction he heard his soulmate’s call. His horn still swings from its tether on his neck, so Jimmy brings it to his lips and sings out for his rancher.

His Tango sings back. Just like he’d promised.

In true Team Rancher fashion, the two find each other via full collision, torsos and limbs crashing together between the trees. Tango’s horn knocks against Jimmy’s chin, Jimmy’s digs into Tango’s gut, and they both fall over with the force of it.

“Jimmy!” Tango chirps brightly, rubbing his forehead.

“Tango,” Jimmy breathes, relieved. “Whatever this death guy says, don’t believe him!”

“Death guy?” Tango looks a bit bewildered. “Oh, Zed! Yeah, I try not to.” His eyes crinkle like it’s a wonderful joke and Jimmy feels his chest swell with warmth. With their legs still tangled up, grinning together, he can almost imagine their soulbond is still there.

Jimmy pushes forward and wraps his soulmate in a hug. “Whoa there!” Tango yelps, but returns the embrace, toasty but steady. “You okay?”

“I really liked your tower,” Jimmy whispers, voice wet. “Even if it did look like a foot.”

Tango barks out a laugh against Jimmy’s ear, but he doesn’t mind. “I’m glad you were my soulmate too, buddy.”

With a tighter squeeze, Tango starts to extract himself. He offers a hand down to pull up his companion, which Jimmy gladly takes. “Ready to go home?”

“Home?” Jimmy repeats dumbly.

“Yeah.” Tango nods over Jimmy’s shoulder. When he turns, Zedeath is waiting, appearing to try and balance his staff on his palm. Jimmy is stunted as Tango separates to sidle over to the reaper. “The game’s over. I’ll see you in the next one though, right, rancher?”

Jimmy nods, knowing he looks foolish but not quite caring. At least Tango isn’t mad. At least he gives Jimmy a sharp grin and double thumbs up as the reaper pulls him into a respawn.

Jimmy sighs heavily. Tango’s probably super busy on Hermitcraft. He did tell him all about the new season and his big plans. His rancher has massive ideas and a selective attention span. Jimmy knows this and can’t blame him for hurrying out.

“Ready?”

What else is there to say?

It’s over. Go home.

The reaper loops the hook of his staff around Jimmy’s torso. The canary pointedly does not look at him, staring off to a static enderman through the trees. Zedeath tugs his staff, and Jimmy is pulled through space in an instant, landing back on a permanently dusty bed with an absence in his heart.

…

The canary does not even startle as the crook pulls his soul out of the most recent wretched game. He does not gaze down where he knows his corporeal body lay, head smashed and bones broken. He does not look to find his allies. He only curls in on himself and cries.

Shimmering silver tears slip down past his shades and paint his cheeks with grief. He hiccups and sobs, throwing his glasses away with a strangled shout.

First out again. What is wrong with him? He had been doing so well at the start!

“I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.”

He’s the worst. He was dragging his team down. He should’ve worked harder.

But does it even matter what he does? It’s always going to be him. It’s always going to be him.

After a game where every second counts, Jimmy doesn’t know how long he cries. He likely would have wept longer, but there’s a tapping on his head that makes him look up.

Who else would it be?

Zedeath stands at a distance, patting his head with his shepherd’s crook. “There, there,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “There, there.”

Jimmy is…tired of seeing Zedeath’s face. It only affirms what he already knows: that he’s died, that’s he’s lost. Seeing the cloaked reaper is his own personal symbol of failure.

He reaches up to shove the crook away. “Why’d you have to push me?”

To his credit, Zedeath does pull his staff back. “It was more of a…consolation pat.”

“On the bridge,” Jimmy bites out without much hostility. He just doesn’t have the fight in him right now.

The reaper looks at him strangely, dead eyes squinting. “My thing is really more of a pull. And at the splat site.”

“You don’t have to act stupid.” Usually he’d roll his eyes, but right now Jimmy is content to only look at his scuffed sneakers.

“Oh, this is no act! Rest assured, I’m stupid for real.”

“I didn’t fall off the bridge.” Saying it out loud should be some remarkable realization, but Jimmy is so tired. “I got pushed.” He knows this to be true in the deepest core of his being, but he does not voice as such.

“Hmm….” Zedeath stares back up at Bread Bridge, glancing around for something Jimmy doesn’t think he’d be able to see if he tried. “Grian does seem like the type. He’s pushed me around before; extremely rude fellow.”

Jimmy lets his forehead fall back onto his knees. His eyes feel strained and puffy. “I don’t like you,” he murmurs, more for himself than Zedeath.

“Neither does Grian,” the reaper returns easily. “And probably a bunch of other people, but I don’t keep track. Who has the time?”

“You don’t listen. I’m sick of you killing me first over and over.”

“Well now who’s not listening? I don’t control when you guys die! If I did, then I would kill Tango first. I like Tango.”

This startles Jimmy into a laugh. “Hey! That’s my rancher! You already took him first once!”

Death winks at him and Jimmy feels the truth of his own words wash over him. Tango was also a first death, wasn’t he? He’d only ever thought about it as dragging him down but…maybe he can be allowed a little selfishness to not feel so lonely.

The reaper continues on regardless, waving off concerns. “I’ve done worse to him, anyway. And he’s done worse to me.”

Jimmy wipes his nose on his wrist with a gross snuffle. “Like…dying all the time?” He doesn’t know what else Death could possibly do to torture someone. He feels he’s already gotten most of it.

“He gets himself killed enough as is. What I do is more fun! Like refilling caves he digs out and dragging his unconscious body around.” Death sounds as chipper as Jimmy’s ever heard him, and he has to gape.

“I didn’t know you could do things in the real world like that.” He’d had his suspicions, but these would have to be largely involved, which is a scary thought. His rancher never mentioned being puppeted by a reaper…could it happen to him too? Jimmy’s already had enough of playing toy. He’s certain this would be the last straw to completely break him.

“I can’t! This is on Hermitcraft. Off the clock.”

“YOU’RE ON HERMITCRAFT?” Jimmy can’t help but shout. The spectre that’s haunted him for so long spends his normal time playing pranks on Hermitcraft? Jimmy’s even visited! He feels like he would have recognized the fellow if he ran into him at all!

“Did Tango not talk about me? I’m hurt!” It may be only a trick of the light, but Jimmy thinks he can see a stray bit of blond peek out from the dark hood.

Frankly, he didn’t even think Zedeath was anyone under the shadow of his void cloak. How could he, with such a powerful and terrifying being? With someone seemingly made of shadows and stinking of death, who only serves to pry him from the games and his friends? Who cursed him into a sacrifice of a songbird?

This changes everything.

After a short conversation, he stands and allows Zedeath’s crook to snag around his middle. It’s biting cold even through his leather jacket. Zedeath’s always cold.

“I’m gonna do better next time,” Jimmy promises him, tear tracks still glinting on the apples of his cheeks.

“I won’t count on it!” The reaper—Zed—beams and pulls his staff.

Jimmy had it all wrong this whole time. Death isn’t an all-powerful force working against him. Death is a Hermit in a dramatic cloak he dons for the job. Death is his rancher’s friend. Death has a player name.

Death is only human.

It can falter.

It can make mistakes.

It can be swayed.

Jimmy steels himself and rises from his bed. He will not be the one to die first again.

He’ll make sure of it.

#traffic series #life series #zedaph #jimmy solidarity #my writing #zedweek #zedaphweek2024 #I've had this hc for so long and finally did somethin with it

18 notes · View notes

sophieinwonderland · 10 months ago

Note

Experience is subjective. I 100% believe that people experience a sense of multiple selves or identities. Identity itself isn’t fixed for even the most basic person. Identity is complicated, hence why finding oneself is such a common theme across movies and literature.

I don’t believe that the various identities exist in the brain as their own people. It’s just not the way the brain works. Brain scan interpretations should be taken with a grain of salt. Correlation does not imply causation, essentially.

Honestly that it likely isn’t various identities existing in the brain as their own people just highlights how incredibly mysterious and wondrous the human brain is.

That said, negating others’ experience because it makes you uncomfortable is cringey af. Like it has absolutely nothing to do with you.

I don’t believe that the various identities exist in the brain as their own people. It’s just not the way the brain works.

How does the brain work?

Do you know something we don't? Last I checked, neuroscientists were still trying to figure this out.

There are a lot of hypotheses we could discuss but we currently just aren't able to really see how the individual neurons interacting in the human brain. At best, we have these brain scans that can show activity in certain regions, but as some researchers have put it, this is a bit like trying to tell what's happening in a city by watching when their lights are turned on.

To that extent, I'll agree that brain scans may not be perfect and have a long way to go.

But I also do fully believe that headmates are encoded in the brain at a neurological level, even if we might not be able to detect it and read what's happening with current technology.

Without more neurological evidence, we may have to agree to disagree on this though.

Correlation does not imply causation, essentially.

I really wish this phrase would stop being applied to circumstances where it's not relevant.

What the Standford tulpa study did was look at the brains of tulpamancers during possession. (When a tulpa controlled limbs without fronting.) This was compared to the tulpamancer simply imagining someone else controlling their limbs or dictating their movements as a control condition.

What was found was that there was reduced activity during possession in regions of the brain associated with control over your actions.

That's causation. The researchers give an instruction. The subject follows the instruction. And that causes a difference in brain activity.

Perhaps other explanations could be made up that don't involve multiple people in the brain to explain this phenomenon. (Similar activity is shown during hypnosis.) But those explanations have nothing to do with the difference between correlation and causation.

24 notes · View notes

workplacecomedian · 7 months ago

Text

graaaAAA desperately need to draw this but [insert excuses] so i'm just writing this out for now to satisfy the monkey in the braincage

Far Flung AU, where Martin does indeed land Somewhere Else, but during their fall he's just become a blended smoothie of fear power, unable to identify as truly human nor avatar. This is wholly an excuse to let Martin go overpowered bonkers off the wall in the Protocol universe with many pinches of edgy and angst and next to no regard for canon as i'm not made for writing :] various rambling details on Martin's powers and whatnot below

in regards to powers, he's mostly an amalgamation of the Lonely, the Web, and the Eye, of course. again with the whole 'fear smoothie' role the specifics are a bit lost.

his form can have a bit of an afterimage, like someone playing a video or animation twice. like if he waves his arm, theres a second arm following the same motion. this is usually easily hidden when in public (especially since he can just will himself to be unnoticeable) but it can also flare up, intentionally or not. when this happens, the afterimage appears more inhuman, kind of gangly. at its peak, the second limbs can manipulate physical objects, but still make a habit of following the other limbs around. his face becomes disorienting- both for him to manipulate and whichever unlucky soul is looking at him to stare at. and, of course, this means sometimes he may get extra eyes that linger around longer than they should. this is a pretty solid mix of the three fears

speaking of eyes, he's able to...well. i wouldn't call it Knowing, but something close to it, and those afterimage eyes appearing are a telltale sign he's getting extremely vague information beamed into his brain. while he certainly helped serve Beholding, he also helped end its reign of terror, so any 'help' from it isn't super useful and isn't often, not unless it can serve the Eye in some way.

sticks to walls like spiderman. because i said so :] it's actually more, uh...spider friends sticking him to the wall, probably? not as crazy powerful as actual spiderman (spidermen?) but it's a fun power to imagine him having. watching from the building walls Ominously

he can drop into the Lonely/his domain at will, and i do mean 'drop' literally. bc again its funny and would look cool. im right <3

he can lock into people's memories, or like....make people become lost in thought, kind of? like when you get stuck daydreaming, in a way...still thinking on this one

design wise (admittedly most of this also works as my general headcanons too):

listen to me carefully. one side of his glasses is in decent shape; that side is where the afterimage eyes appear. the other side has a crack in them. its in an asymmetrical X shape, with three more lines around the center, like the world's shittiest web. when hes feeling A Lot, those eyes glow like sunset. blood redorange. pair it with the fog, and its like a really creepy version of a sunset through a densely foggy forest. do u see my vision. martin apparently doesn't, with those fucked up glasses. i think a chunk of panopticon debri smacked his forehead on the side with the cracked glass; give homie a fun little forehead/eyebrow scar. oh AND AND again when he's feeling Many Things, the crack in the glasses follows where he looks, to keep up the scattered light rays (dream logic and what have you!)

when martin worked with peter, peter would put his hand on the back of martin's neck in that way thats supposed to be friendly and comforting, but in hindsight just felt disgustingly controlling to martin. that spot- at the bottom of his hair, around his neck- is where i think the white hair would appear. when he has a hood up and he's feeling foggy, it turns into a kind of creepy mimicry of fuzzy/furry hoods, blocking his eyes (except for when they glow >:) (bonus: he gained a nervous tick of rubbing the back of his neck, after he first left the Lonely :)

and one more ability i think Martin would/could have, both in this AU and in (head)canon:

i have a very vivid idea of Martin being able to manipulate his domain for travel (and his domain is a foggy damp forest but that's besides the point). as in, in an emergency he can pop himself halfway into the Lonely and time is slightly slowed, but he has to be careful of where he does so- if there's a physical obstruction in his path on the physical plane and he doesn't clear that space in his domain, there's Consequences. like getting half buried in whatever material he just failed to walk through! actually i just remembered i wrote something out for this in a friend's dm...and since we're already waist deep in rambling:

Mr archivist took a hit on the leg, only half awake, maybe theyre running from like. Vampires or something bc its so funny vampires exist but are NEVER returned to. So martin is helping him with an arm wrapped around him, but their route gets blocked off. As they run up to a deadend wall, jon "politely" reminds him of such, but martin just yell-asks him how thick the wall is and tosses him over his shoulder. Eye does its thing and jon responds automatically as martin gains speed, busting into the lonely just before they run face first into brick, and its suddenly dead quiet in there, besides martin panting as he counts his running steps, and as they exit the fog he reacts like he just got gut punched and winded but keeps trying to run, footsteps leaving little foggy prints.. it buys them only a little time, but the disconnect from the eye or something shakes jon awake enough. Martin maybe pulls the foggy trick one or two more times to avoid the vampires coming back up to flank them, but it drains him each time, and at that point he tells jon hes gonna need some help, barely able to jog now in his stupor, and as he runs jon sits up against martins shoulder (or 'sits up' as best he can in that position) and gets to do his whole ceaseless watcher baloney and. Idk. I loved the visuals of someone on a motorcycle while their partner is on their lap shooting at pursuers behind them. Cursed and fucked up and evil version of that with martin running out of the fog and jon pulling a fun little pointing pose in martins grip as he curses the shit outta their own pursuers

anyway ty for indulging my rambling <3 have a nice day

#i have so so so many doodle ideas its not even funny anymore HELP #tma #the magnus archives #tmagp #the magnus protocol #technically?? this guy would only exist in protocol #tma spoilers #the magnus archives spoilers #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #au #my tma #honestly im not super tied to the au name. i thought it worked well between being 'flung' from his dimension and also 'flung' from a decent #mental state but..now i cant see 'flung' as a word anymore. sounds weird lol #holding this dude like a squeaky toy. you are my outlet. get outleted idiot

11 notes · View notes

blackholesun321 · 1 year ago

Note

OK SO

this au has broken into my house and has been squatting in my head ever since i stumbled across it but my idea was since everybody now has an extra set of limbs what else can they do with them other than the intended use?

that’s right- they can hold shit, kinda like when your hands are full but you still got some bigger-than-hand-holding items you gotta carry and just press them between you arm and your body.

need to carry all the groceries? just start tucking the bags in there and hope the stuff doesn’t water physics around and just completely spill out the bag

need to carry all the pillows in the house to one spot for the ultimate pillowfort? tuck em in and spread em out when you get to the spot for a pillowy rain

gotta carry multiple small children, wiggley and otherwise? wham bam wing-timeout-hug-hip carry time. just be sure to not spread your wings when you got them tucked in there or they WILL fall

did i write all of that just to get other people to realize my vision of shanks or mihawk with a small child poking their head out from behind one of their shoulders while engulfed in their wings? maybe so

okthanksbyyee

I’m sorry this au has taken residence in your brain and not even paying rent? For shame. Hopefully this answer will willlay some of cost.

THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, PEOPLE! The world-building for people now having extra appendages – we could do so much with this. Consider people's new limitations, how buildings are designed, think about ships. What if it would be a disability to be without wings? There's so much you can do with this!

This is fucking adorable. I’m going to fudge the mechanics of wing motion bit for this to work properly (it’s one piece there’s a whole human sub species with an extra joint in their arms.) But yessss the idea it percolates.

I imagine Luffy wouldn't be too put out by a little inconvenience like not being able to fly. Besides, he's a rubber man and very durable now. So, he gets really good at scooping and holding things in his wings. He even grabs people and fights with them. Somehow, he even learned to kinda climb stuff with them. Since they are a part of him, assume he can control them just like the rest of his body. Given he's very durable, he'd be able to do normal things others wouldn't even consider with his wings.

Also, I'm now imagining Shanks' parents' Spidey sense going off and shooting out his wing to scoop Luffy up because he was about to fall right off the boat, get into a fight, eat something he shouldn't, or do a lot of Luffy things. I believe this would happen a lot, to the point where he has a second built Luffy sensor in his brain that has his wing shoot out to automatically grab Luffy before he maims himself. The only time he's cried over his lost wing was when he realized he wouldn't be able to hold all his kids at once. He was very drunk, and Ben was so done with his snot and tears by the end of it.

(this you shanks?)

Or Mihawk being interrupted by Marines or a fellow Warlord and just scooping the kids up into his wings to hide them. He can't do this when they're older and bigger, but more than once, out of nowhere, Mihawk would just scoop Zoro up into a feather burrito and not let him out until whoever was visiting was gone. It is very obvious Mihawk has something in his wing, and whenever he gets asked if he wants to put it down before they continue talking, all Mihawk does is glare at them until they move on to a different topic.

Also also, Wing Jail™️ becomes Shanks and Mihawk's go-to de-escalation tactics when it comes to kids. Doing something stupid? Wing Jail. About to fall off the boat? Wing Jail. Fighting with your siblings? Double Wing Jail. Can't stop crying, had a nightmare, are bored and don't want to move? You guessed it, Wing Jail.

This ask reminded me of the Janaca Bird. Which is fitting for this au because within this particular species the dads take care of the baby’s..

Look at him. ✨ A single mom who works to jobs! ✨ Now imagine Shanks or Mihawk with just little legs sticking out of the bottom of there wing.

Anyways amazing ask. Please give more to the stew, it shall be robust and rich by the end im sure!

43 notes · View notes

eldritch-spouse · 2 years ago

Note

That anon who shipped Santi and Obie was MASSIVE BRAIN, BIG BRAIN ANON!!!

They also gave me the confidence to tell you that, as much as I absolutely adore all the Y/N shipping, I also ship some of your characters together when I fancy it, jdndmd-

Like Patches and Morell! Who doesn't love size differences? And (provided that he doesn't eat Patches' entire head/body) Morell can live out his gross fantasy of eating someone alive while he fucks them, multiple times! Let's not forget that Patches is the pain slut ever and that he literally drove a cleaver guts-deep into himself that one time, like the whore he is...

On a less horny note, while the two probably do clash with their personalities and stubbornness, I personally think they can bond over a few things. Like... Patches likes horses a lot, so I think Morell would (if it has them) take Patches to his family's ranch and let him pet all the horses. Patches would probably show Morell even more ways of catching humans, little magical methods that Morell can easily use even if he doesn't have any magic himself. Patches shyly offering some of his own limbs/blood/organs for Morell to cook sounds weirdly cute to me.........

I wonder how it'd be with Stitches, though? It's easier to imagine shipping Morell and Patches if Stitches is a separate entity, but I wonder how it'd work if he wasn't? Stitches is a pretty annoying fella, he might bother Morell while he works if only to get the guy to stuff him like a creampie and dump all his raw frustration into his ass... Though personally I like to ship the two with Stitches being a separate entity :]

It's an interesting dynamic, that I can agree with. Patches would do well with a lot of the more sadistic characters floating around here, but I'm not sure how well the two would get along in terms of personality. I can see many moments where they get along and many others where they'd get furious with each other- But that's what makes an interesting pairing honestly.

Stitches has a tendency to follow Patches in his affections, and the other way around holds true. Morell thinks he's equipped to deal with the gremlin but he's oftentimes proven very wrong.

#Patches oc #Morell oc #Stitches oc

47 notes · View notes

yours-the-author · 1 year ago

Text

Hey, so...

Does anyone remember this post I made recently?

I made some art for it...

If you wanna see it...

Here it is:

I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SURVIVING THE MANSION BUT I DIDN'T REALIZE UNTIL AFTER I FINISHED IT AAAGGH

...Aside from that little oopsie, though, I'm actually really proud of how the logo came out? I based the font off a style called "Micro 5 Charted". Thank goodness I was using graph paper!

I'm not sure if that Kanji is correct; Google Translate doesn't seem to like the word "oni" or "stick", especially together, so I spelled out the Romanji in the English box and then tried to copy the characters Google offered me as closely as possible. I think I'd be more surprised if I got the Kanji correct, honestly.

Henry Stickmin title screens usually have two different fonts for the verb and the noun, and I thought about trying to make "Mansion" look like an actual house, but that made my brain hurt to much to conceptualize, so I stuck with different colored fonts. Hmm, that clock sure is there. I wonder what it means gets hit by a bus

-----

Anyway, here's some theoretical scenarios of what the main gameplay would look like! This one stars General Hubert Galeforce and some other guy:

Option 1: Shoot

Result: The monster hears you move as soon as you pull your gun from its holster. No time to defend yourself.

FAILURE (DiE!)

Option 2: Backup

Result: Your radio refuses to work, even though it was just fine before you entered the mansion. The monster waits until you've realized this, then goes for your throat.

FAILURE (No one will hear your screams...)

Option 3: Time Out

Result: The monster does not hear you and goes into a separate room, out of sight and out of mind. Galeforce survives... for now. But what was that thing...?

-----

I don't know how feasible it would be, but I imagine this would be a cross between typical RPG Maker-styled games (pixels, speech boxes with pictures of the characters, moving around a set floor plan, puzzle solving, etc) and typical Henry Stickmin-styled game play (cutscenes, choices, possible interactivity [grabbing items/bios], the occasional quick time event, etc) (voice acting would be a stretch). Most of the gameplay, like exploring the mansion, puzzle solving, and running/fighting the monster, would be RPG style, and then occasionally switch into a cutscene that requires you to make a choice; usually with just one correct answer but possibly others that could result in diverging dialogue/interaction/paths/endings? Something to think about.

Anyway, Galeforce! Poor man has no idea what he almost walked into, haha. I experimented with perspective and limb placement here, which was exhausting but also a lot of fun! Dynamics are hard with stick figures, but considering that they're they only character medium I've ever been decent at, I made it work.

And the Oni... I tried to give it some sort of anatomy, but quickly realized that I do not have the skills to pay those bills. I opted for a more of a shadowy figure looking thing with a big smile instead (you can see some of the lines where I tried to make it have arms, I think). I opted for Ao Oni's purple-y blue color scheme verses HetaOni's gray alien look. Back in the day of fan made Ao Oni games, people would usually try to put their own unique spin on the Oni sprite, with HetaOni's being the most unique I ever saw (keep in mind, it was one of the few designs I ever saw, so there might be cooler ones out there, who knows). In theory, a game called Sutikku Oni would use a stick figure shaped monster, but with my current art skills, that would just look like a normal stick person with a big head (look! Geoffrey Plumb's cousin!). I think the less we see, the better; all good horror games know when to leave things to the imagination!

-----

I also made a second one, featuring my boy Dave Panpa!

...Dave, I'm so sorry... *MAKES HIM PEEP THE HORROR*

Option 1: Call for Help

Result: You call for help...

FAILURE (...but nobody came.)

Option 2: Run

Result: You tense your muscles in preparation to run. The monster is faster.

FAILURE (YoU... wOn'T... eScApE...!)

Option 3: Pretend to be a Piano

Result: Frozen with fear in front of the piano, it's all you can do to hope the monster thinks you're also a piano (a sopping wet piano, but still). It's deadly quiet. You can hardly breathe, and you're afraid to. The monster stares at you for an uncomfortably long time, before walking away, out of sight and out of mind. You stay still a little longer before collapsing to the ground. Dave Panpa survives... for now. How on Earth did that work? Or... did that thing let you live out of pity...?

-----

UGH the piano! Pianos are so hard to draw! Luckily, I had an almost head on reference that I was able to use for the first picture. For the above view shot, I had to do some wild guessing. The red stuff near Dave's head in the second picture is the red stuff he was referring to. Is it blood? Paint? Something else? Who knows! But as we all know, any self respecting Ao Oni fan game needs a piano puzzle!

I imagine Dave was dragged along for the ride when the Toppats decided to find the treasure of the mansion (or something to that degree), fully intending to leave him there to die if there was, in fact, a monster inside. Poor Dave... Maybe there could be an ending where amends are made? Or maybe not...

I mostly put the smile on the monster's shadow as a means of showing that, indeed, it is the monster, but now I'm wondering if the monster's mouth glows or something? Hot fires of Hell, delivered right to you! Can you beat the heat?

-----

Thank you all for coming to my fixation ramble that absolutely no one else except me finds interesting! Any thoughts before you go?

(A cricket chirps, then leaves because it's in the wrong conference room)

...Yeah, I figured.

18 notes · View notes

againaweasel · 3 months ago

Note

Great now do Tonks this time, all the numbers

absolutely i can. Three anons have asked this so thank you to all three of you for letting me yap about Tonks <3

what i most like about them

ugh so much. The angst is hidden in the comic relief!!!

She comes in incredibly witty and confident and so when she’s sad, it’s like she’s really sad because she puts on this persona of inquisitive and upbeat so often - and she’s fun to write at her breaking point because of it. Her guilt complex is delicious to write.

There’s also the fact she seems to embody a lot of the traits that Helga Hufflepuff herself respected.

what i hate about them

ooooh this is a tough one for Tonks – maybe her stubbornness, but i also love that messy aspect of her. She’s the definition of ‘you can’t tell this kid anything’ to me, she makes her mind up and she’s doing it, you can’t change it. And like in canon that doesn’t come back to bite her but I dooo love and hate it when it does in fic. I think she’s self-righteous, and her desire to do what’s right leads to her judging those that aren’t (even when her own work is a problem, like with the aurors)

fav fic w them in it

I can’t pick just one so, here are some highlights I've been thinking about recently:

The Girl Under The Mulberry Branch by Aegle (22k) If I ever stop talking about this fic, you'll know I've been replaced with an imposter

My Girl by SweetDeamon (3k+) (It’s Mad-Eye’s POV for a Tonks character study. VVV nice)

I Attempt from Love Sickness to Fly By Scandalcious Intentions (2k+) (Tonks in this SLAPS, sorry I meant SNAPS)

There is SO MUCH MORE under the cut because I just kept yapping

my fancast of that character

I actually don’t really have one for Tonks. I’ve never seen someone and gone hmm yes that’s what Tonks looks like. [An irl friend and I were talking about what the casting could have looked like if things (J.k) were different and the show worth watching and he suggested Florence Pugh for Tonks and I didn’t hate it]

a headcanon i have

Tonks is dyslexic in my head, always has been and I don’t know where it’s come from. Beyond it occasionally cropping up in things I write, I don’t think I’ve seen it anywhere else.

BUT ALSO Tonks is so clumsy because the bit of their brain that keeps track of where her limbs are (Proprioception if you’re fancy) can’t do its job properly because her limbs are never in the same place. She shifts and changes all the time and her brain can’t keep up as quickly. CEO of limbs she doesn’t know what to do with.

my unpopular opinion on them

IDK, maybe that theres bits of Tonks’ character that are worth exploring at all. That seems to be a sticking point for popular opinion. For a fandom that prides itself on building from little canon text, Tonks appears to be where a lot of marauders fan’s imaginations go to die. Which is sad because Tonks could be so great.

my fav ship with them

remadoraaaa. I love them being weird little shapeshifters together.

i'll make them a moodboard / i'll make them a playlist

Here have a playlist because I am not skilled with a mood board:

would i date them?

GIVE ME ONE CHANCE

What i think of that character's friends

OOOOOOH. I think they don’t have many solid friends. They have friends but not ride-or-die best friends. Definitely not a marauders level found family situation, and it became harder after joining the Order and trying to basically juggle a double life as a spy in the ministry. AND THEN even harder when they marry Remus and become essentially a social outcast because they married a werewolf.

how i think their childhood was like

I think they grew up watching Ted and Andromeda be scared all the time. Lots of hiding, being overly cautious. But also feeling othered because of their shape shifting. Puberty is rough all the time but puberty when you can look like anything and have people telling you what you should and shouldn’t do with your body to please them??? fuuuuuck that.

Aus

I don’t see enough Tonks AUs, like ever. Aus were they live are great but I want some solid muggle aus

gender/sexuality headcanons

I love non binary or gender queer or gender fluid or straight up trans masc Tonks so much. but sexuality wise queeeeer. Doesn’t label it further than that.

could i be roomates with this character?

The house would always be an absolute mess but I think we’d manage.

Free yap space

I feel like I yap about Tonks too much to really utilise this space properly

#A Weasel talks about Tonks #A Weasel talks about remadora #see look new tags so you can find stuff easier #and because I literally never shut up

15 notes · View notes

kyuohki · 9 months ago

Note

Break Point/To Be Remade in general

11 What was the most challenging aspect of writing it?

22 What is something you learned about yourself as a writer from the experience?

Any story-

25 Share your favorite line

26 Share your favorite detail

>:3

11 What was the most challenging aspect of writing it?

Trying to figure out where all their goddamn *limbs* were at any given time during the smut, so it didn't feel stiff. Also trying to figure out if the bondage was reasonable for what I was attempting (the chained to the dais by collar and manacles made me wonder if it was actually possible with the positions Zale was in). It got to the point where some of the scenes didn't feel sexy anymore as I wrote/edited.

Writing "Wilted Flower for a Broken Pet" was challenging, bc I needed it to fit what I alluded to in "Break Point," while also hitting all the beats I wanted (like expanding on what Chapter 8 briefly touched on, from Zale's broken POV). I remember complaining once about how authors with already established stories can sometimes contradict themselves in works further down the line, but now I have a *much* bigger appreciation of how *difficult* writing in the same verse is without massively upending previous plots/characterizations.

Right now it's challenging on how to get Zale on his path to healing, on how fast or slow it should go, and how long is reasonable for a time-skip to a Zale that is more healed. (I also want there to be happy sexy times for him, but it can't happen too soon! No healing dick/sex! *sighs* Doesn't help that my brain just wants more whump.)

22 What is something you learned about yourself as a writer from the experience?

I apparently like the kinks more than I originally thought. *blushes*

Also, that I have a lot more fun writing on the antagonists' side than I do on the protagonists' (I still only have a rough outline of what Valere and Co were doing up to the rescue, and haven't written anything fully). But it's so *fun* to plan and explore how these bad characters tick, and how/why they're doing the things they are.

25 Share your favorite line(s)

From Kintsugi (wip Ch.2; though I posted it in a WIP Wednesday):

"Pet is useful to me. And proof that those ‘vermin’ can be tamed. Freed even,” Master murmured between his gentle kisses. “Is that not what our bases were? Failures for the Archivist, perhaps, but willing to sacrifice themselves to become something greater? To serve our Master willingly, instead of being a weapon to be tossed aside when their puppet master was through with them?”

I love this bit from Barma'thazël. The idea that Brugaves and Erlina made the "correct" choice in serving Aephorul, and why this Demon would think that, when we know that what they've become is actually a terrible thing. Trying to see how these two view their reality, and their justification in what they're doing is "right," makes for some twisted lines. Fun to write and explore, tho.

26 Share your favorite detail

The recurring theme of Zale squeaking in Bloodlines. I giggle at it every time.

Also, this whole scene from Scorched Earth:

The windows and door to the balcony faced the east, and rattled as the wind picked up. Two turned just in time to see the black cloud rise up in the distance. It surged up in a pillar not unlike smoke, then roiled across the sky at incredible speed. For a moment, the shriek of the wind and the rattle and shattering of glass about the Manor was all that could be heard— —then the cloud reached them, and all went black. The very air felt thick, a dark presence in it that pressed heavily down all around her. Two smiled as it rejuvenated her, the very essence of the darkness coiling about her like an affectionate pet.

Ahh, I just love the imagery of this scene! Two is succeeding in her goals, and is absolutely enjoying the moment. I also loved writing how the magic took over Lucent. I was imagining it like a merger of how Madoka Magica animated how witches transformed (with a dash of Gainax explosions thrown in), as well as how in Sleeping Beauty Maleficent sent her spell to surround the castle and create the thorn barrier.

(OH. *That's* why I love writing the bad guys the way I do. I'm channeling Maleficent. Ooookay, themes I absorbed as a child through my favorite Disney movie, you really like coming out in everything I write now, huh?)

#writing #ask game #writing ask game #sea of stars #I'm assuming that line means dialogue and detail means narrative #(Oohhhhh....all of Maleficent's scenes explain a lot actually.)

3 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

Note

Ino falling in love with the most beautiful girl he ever saw while exorcising curses on a mission and being full on blown away when he sees you pull out some super impressive technique that... looks... oddly familiar...?

He's so mesmerized by you that he doesn't even notice the cursed spirit behind him, dashing at his limbs but quickly being handled by you who jumped in front of him to protect his dumb absent-minded ass.

He starts to blush stupidly and thanks you multiple times. He's both embarrassed about not being any help and impressed by you not actually needing any help anyways.

After all the curses are dealt with you glance at him and he smugly introduces himself, waiting for you to do the same.

When you tell him your name his jaw falls to the floor. Did you really just say your name was Y/N Nanami? Are you related to his mentor Kento Nanami? You surely must be, Nanami isn't a common surname in this area. Or maybe... maybe you're his wife...? But his mentor never even mentioned having a girlfriend, let alone a wife.

Nonetheless, the mere thought of you being in a romantic relationship makes his chest tighten and his heart break. Even if it would be his beloved mentor, he's feeling jealous just thinking of it.

You pull him out of his thoughts when you start to laugh, followed by a comment about how you imagined him to be a lot more badass and not so lost in battle, for lack of a better word.

Now he's confused. He's utterly baffled, entirely flabbergasted, quite literally he's bamboozled. What did you just say? Why would you think this of him when you don't know him? Was he correct that you are in some relationship with his mentor? Whether platonic, familial or romantic, he doesn't know. And if the answer is yes, which quite obviously is the case, does that mean his mentor talks about him when he's not around? He tells people about him?

"But you're also a lot cuter than he described you." — Ma'am, he will have to ask you to stop bamboozling him like this, because this young man will have a stroke quite soon.

The sound of your laugh is easily his new favourite tone, even if it's at his expense since you're obviously laughing about his confused expression. Understanding that this boy us currently stumbling over his own mind and needs some help with the situation you offer him a kind and happy smile.

"I'm Kento's younger sister."

It's the best and the worst thing he ever heard. You're related to his mentor, not in a relationship with him, something he feels immensely hopeful about, but then...

...how will he explain to his mentor that he fell for his sister?

———

Just some silly little Ino stuff my brain came up with at work.

~ Nanami Flowershop Anon

pls i need more of this nom nom nom 😭💀

ino is such a love at first sight guy and i think he’d especially fall head over heels for a strong powerful capable badass woman

((and nanamis sister?? he’s day dreaming abt the wedding already))

to the point where it makes him a lil dumb and pathetic and he’s flopping like a fish out of water when you talk to him

(he probably thinks he’s being smooth but he’s stuttering and staring so hard)

lucky for him your type is handsome simps 🥰🥰

#nanami flowershop anon #ino brainrot #how am i going to get anything done today when this will be on my mind HUH #jordie says stuff

11 notes · View notes

imagoddamnonionmason · 8 months ago

Note

I was gonna DM this to you, but I thought it’d make more sense if I sent it in as an ask instead.

Bullet was ordered specifically to be on her best behavior as the meeting’s extremely important. She’s in her best dress, but is wearing a wool cardigan over it to hide the scars and the tattoos that are ‘unprofessional’. For half of the meeting, a couple of people kept making comments towards that would usually end in Bullet getting into a screaming match, but she has to bite her tongue.

Eventually, she ends up getting overstimulated and excuses herself ‘to the bathroom’, where she deadass climbs out of the window. Girl goes outside and starts beating the shit out of the dumpster at the back of the building they’re in. When her knuckles are bloody and she runs out of curse words, Ester lights a cigarette.

She doesn’t notice that Klaus was also overstimulated and also escaped the same way she did. I kinda imagine Ester had a thing for him so she’s pretty embarrassed when she finds out he’s there too.

Girl’s there, mascara running, makeup completely ruined, broken hands and red in the face.

They’d end up talking and going to a different spot nearby, maybe a rooftop or a park, and they actually talk for a while, and it ends with Ester taking her cardigan off and leaning her head against Klaus.

Lmk what you think 🤭

Ok firstly this got me kicking my feetsies and feeling so silly, I love it - soft moments for these two seem like they would be very far and few, especially for Ester due to everything she has been through and the types of missions she's had to go on and complete. I feel like throughout the meeting, Klaus would have been sparing her glances - I'm also assuming this is like a formal meeting? Maybe he's in a suit for some reason, either way, doesn't matter, dude is in a suit for a reason I'll get to later (and also because a suit makes him look phenomenal).

They're sat slightly across from each other, listening in to whatever discussion is happening, then it goes from tabletop to standing around muddling around with the crowd. Maybe it's a meeting followed by a 'get-together' or some sort of underhanded meeting with the cover of a party or something. Idk, I'm seeing shady shit happening, you get me?

ANYWAY!

It's gotten to the point in the night where everyone is getting a little louder, the noise level is complicated with different sounds and heightened volumes and he'd actually prefer to be in a warzone. He can handle the complicated soundscape of a battlefield, but humming voices make his brain vibrate in a way that hurts and he doesn't like it. He doesn't know why Graves sent him this is the worst-

Yes, he's in the bathroom, looking for a way out without people noticing and of course the only thing he can think of is escaping through the slightly open window - it was a bit of a squeeze, given his height, but he managed and then escaped down the fire escape, like the metal stairs (I have no idea where this is set, but stick with me here).

He hears commotion, hurries further down because someone sounds really upset and he's like 'oh fuck-' and when he sees that it's Ester, he stills. When she turns to see that it's him, he's like a deer caught in headlights. Stood there, tall and gangly with too much limb and not enough confidence to place them somewhere that isn't in an awkward position. So he kinda just fidgets on the spot.

But then he notices the tears, the bloodied knuckles and he's very still again. But the kind of still that is laden with concern and a slight disappointment that he hadn't noticed earlier signs that she wasn't ok. I feel like maybe they've been working together a lot more and he's come to trust her (and fancy her a lil bit). Firstly they're comrades, he should know when a fellow soldier needs aid, but also she's a friend and he's annoyed he didn't notice. He's worked so hard to start noticing social cues and yet here he has failed to.

He slowly walks up to her, silent, and extends his hand out to her, fingers curling a little to indicate he wants to see her hands. He turns them over and inspects the knuckles, tuts a little bit with an understanding that they must sting, at least, before he pulls a handkerchief from his inside pocket.

"For the blood," he would say, a little awkwardly.

Then he'd look back from where he'd escaped from, wince a little at the thought of both of them heading back in, and makes the decision that, no, they're not. I think a park would be nice, sitting on a lone bench, in the dark with possibly a singular lamppost shining down on them. When they're both settled there, he's loosened off his tie, undone the top few buttons of his shirt and is sat, a little more relaxed now it's just the two of them. I think they probably haven't really spoken just yet, just walked there in comfortable silence before he turns to her to ask, "want to talk about it?" His voice is very quiet, soft, gentle, his accent clinging thick to his words.

"Who said these things?" He'd ask, with full understanding that she can hold her own, but he doesn't want her to have to. He'll steal their kneecaps and feed them to their mothers, especially if he finds anyone making comments like that again. I imagine they would have been about the scars. He'd fistfight a god if they spoke horridly about her looks, her appearance, her in general.

I think he'd be shitting himself as he does this next bit, like that anxiety someone gets when they really like someone but is scared that they're about to fuck it up forever, but also now is the moment to be tender and plunge into the depths of possibility. He cup her cheeks, wipe away any tear stains, and it takes a lot for him to do this, but he does.

And he'd invite that closeness, for her to rest against him, and he would wrap a protective arm around her and they'd continue talking into the night. It's not awkward like he thought it would be and I'm not sure how they'd get onto the topic of partners, but I feel like it would be a slight train wreck. He just asked the question straight up a little bluntly, thinking he'd been smooth as fuck lmao.

"So you are dating someone?"

"No..."

"Right..." He'd panic a little bit, "would.... would you.. like to? maybe?"

#LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK #It's a little all over the place but hopefully you get the gist of what I was trying to get across <3 #thank you for the ask and these two are another favourite couple of mine #will fight for them #ester/klaus #call of duty #gooseanswers #ester wilde #Klaus newman #cod modern warfare #mw2 #mw3

6 notes · View notes