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gabessquishytum · 30 days

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Oh OG Warprize Hob Anon wherefore art thou..... I just thought it was time to show thanks and appreciation for one of the best AUs (imo) to come out of the Dreamling ship. Not a week goes by where I don't think about their writing, and spin headcanons and scenarios of my own in my head. One of the most underrated aspects of their writing I think is Dream's ruthlessness and cruelty in that AU, it's so rare to see Dream just be a toppy asshole all the way through, fellow fans seem to prefer to see him as an emotional bottom twink 😭. One of the rare AUs where Hob is allowed to be the sensitive wanton bottom all throughout 🤤🤤 Ohh OG Warprize Hob Anon, I miss your writing so much, I hope to see your writing grace this dashboard once more, especially with more dark Dream moments. For my fellow fans, I thought I'd do a small thing and compile all their asks here. I'm so sorry if this is sloppy, but I just copy-pasted these here.

Warprize Hob AU

Anonymous asked:

I don’t know where this came from?? Dubcon/noncon cw, or it’s kinky roleplay if you prefer that. But...

Hob fought bravely, a solider in the war of greater men. He even crossed blades with terror in all black, the Nightmare King himself once. They said it was better for a solider like him to die with honor than to be taken alive. But when the tide turned and Hob’s own sworn sovereign fell, all he wanted was to live. He laid down his blade, expecting to be taken into chains. But not chains like these.

He kneels, blindfolded, on the bed, naked other than pure gold bondage, thin chains that truss him everywhere. Gold binds his hands at his back. Gold cuffs secure his ankles, connected by a flimsy thread only put there so it could be snapped apart. Gold laces around his tits, catching in his chest hair. Gold threads between new ruby piercings in his nipples—still so sensitive that even the touch of silk sends bolts of pure heat through his body. Every time he twitches, he sees stars. Gold loops like garters around his thighs, connected to the glimmering chain around his hips. And gold ribbon cages his achingly hard cock and full balls.

Hob is so, so hard. He has been since they fed him sweet candied fruits laced with a magic that heated his blood until he was begging those faceless servants to please, please let him come. They didn’t. Instead, he was bathed and perfumed with jasmine oil brushed through his hair (everywhere). He was opened with gentle touches and generous oil, a marble plug nestled inside him, blessedly cool against his burning skin. He was left on the bed with a final chain connecting his collar to the bedframe.

His prick so hard in its confines, and the plug is not enough. He still feels terribly empty. Against his own will, he finds himself rocking back and forth, rubbing his thighs together, desperate for anything that might help him get pleasure where he needs it most.

Until with no warning, a hand touches his head. He stills. He thought he was alone. Strong, thin fingers brush down his face, linger on his lips. A gentle thumb pushes inside his mouth. Hob moans, body thrumming like a harp just to be touched so simply.

“Peace, my prize,” a deep voice, peaceful as slumber, murmurs. The blindfold is pulled down and Hob blinks blearily into the face of the Nightmare King himself. He smiles, confident and regal, and slim fingers caress his side, down to his ass, and push against the plug until it finally presses where Hob needs it. "I will give you what you crave.”

Gabe:

Mmmm yes!!!! I love this.

Hob as Dream’s chosen prize after his victory in battle? Oh yes, excellent. I particularly adore the idea of Hob being unknowingly fed some kind of aphrodisiac to make him needy - Dream wants him to be willing, so he will simply make sure that he has no choice but to be.

Also, the preparation... Hob would usually be utterly humiliated by such an act. It's so impersonal and degrading. But all he can think about is how much he wants to cum, so he spends the whole time whining and begging for more. By the time Dream gets to him, Hob is spreading his legs like a well trained whore who's never known anything different. He's nearly forgotten the battle and his instincts as a warrior, he just wants to be fucked. Anyone could come into the room and have him and Hob would just be grateful.

But he isn't for just anyone, oh no. He's the king’s prize, his spoils of war. He suckles desperately on Dream’s thumb, sticks his arse out temptingly and generally tries to make himself as tempting as possible. He aches, and his brain is fuzzy, the king is absolutely the most beautiful thing Hob has ever seen right now.

Not to mention his cock is perfect - the most perfect Hob has ever had inside him. It's as though his body has been molded perfectly for the king’s cock. He's not sure if he's ever cum so many times in his life.

When he comes back to himself several hours later, sweating and sticky and aching... he knows that he should be angry and hurt. He should get up from the beautiful bed and find some way to escape. But. He's tired, and hungry. The bed is comfortable, and the king is staring at him with sparkling black eyes.

He rolls over. Cum trickles gently down his thighs. The king holds out his hand, one of those candied fruits held between his long pale fingers.

Hob opens his mouth.

Anonymous asked:

Hiii I’m the originally war prize hob anon, lured back because I was blown away by how you and everyone else responded to the idea! Amazing work, go team.

Here’s more. (It’s so long. I’m sorry)

At first, Hob was confined to the bed chamber, a decoration, a pretty thing—and so rarely has Hob ever considered himself pretty. Pretty was for swallow-boned young men and women with smooth thighs. Pretty was not him, full bodied and furred. He has always pleased his lovers, they have found him handsome. But most have expected him to take charge and take care of them, not to—to—

Submit with spread legs and open mouth. To tempt. To eat sweet aphrodisiacs from those long, pale fingers until he’s begging to feel them for inside him. Sweet humiliation.

The king wants this. They pass long nights pounding Hob’s pride to shreds. He learns to beg under the king’s cock, his cruel mouth, and the touch of those inhuman eyes. Even sober, he only has to think of the king and his body floods with hot want. But still. Hob doesn’t understand.

“Why me?” He dared ask the first week, the king with a hand fisted in his hair, thrusting into him so deep and slow, Hob could feel it in his throat.

The king paused. A cool hand trailed down Hob’s back. Gathered the chains that pooled at his back, the ones he hadn’t yet snapped in his fervor. “I am interested.”

Hob meant to press him, even at the risk of his own peril, but the king slammed back into him and every thought vanished.

And then Hob is brought out of the bed and taken to kneel at the throne during the days too, chained to the king’s hand. At first, Hob assumes he is meant to be a symbol of the king’s power. Or a toy to warm the king’s cock when the duties of court grow dull. (Hob is both.)

But then comes a night when the king ponders battle plans for his next great war. And he turns to Hob.

“My general suggested we surge ahead and meet the enemy at their own gate. You rolled your eyes.” The king looks at Hob as if he is peeling the layers of muscle and bone away, finding the heart of him. And Hob realizes that all day, the king had noticed him listening. Not always—sometimes the king prefers to see him squirm, prefers to press the heavy gold plug into his hole and watch Hob strain for hours to keep it in, only to fail. During those hours, Hob had not heard a thing.

But when the king had allowed Hob to rest his head against his solid thigh, Hob had listened. And he had been seen doing it.

“Your enemy will expect a frontal attack. A show of strength. For you are a strong king. Respectfully, that’s a brave way to kill many of your own men.”

“Hmm.” The king says nothing else. He beckons until Hob kneels again at his side, the bowl of candied fruits, as always, sitting on the table. The king plucks one up and offers it to Hob.

“My lord,” Hob breathes. “Why do you care what I think?”

Hands brush through his hair. “Eat,” the king murmurs.

This king wants something. He waits for something. Hob cannot work out what. Yet.

He eats.

Gabe:

Assfggjkl og warprize anon!!!!!!

I am so taken with Hob’s thoughtfulness, his curiosity. His fearlessness. And I think that Dream is rapidly becoming besotted with these things too.

Hob isn't scared of him. No matter how ruthless and harsh he is, no matter which way Dream forces Hob to bend, he always springs back up with those curious eyes, wanting to know what's next. Dream suspects that he doesn't need the aphrodisiacs at all - that Hob would be willing to spread himself out in any arrangement of Dream’s choosing. But Dream is afraid of rejection, and Hob enjoys the lustful oblivion just a little bit too much to ask for a change.

Hob is clever and capable and good with his hands. When Dream comes to him wounded from some accident or skirmish, Hob knows exactly how to bind the flesh carefully but firmly. He rests his head in Dream’s lap after, like a beloved pet hound. His breathing is so soothing, Dream even manages to fall asleep. He wakes up and Hob is already between his legs, ready and waiting to be choked on the king’s cock as usual.

Dream fucks him instead, as ferocious as ever but this time with a purpose. Hob is his prize and the world ought to know about it. From now on, he'll have Hob smelling of his cum, always. He'll have him littered with bite marks and bruises. He'll keep Hob close, make sure the end of his gold leash is always within reach. He'll bring Hob to the battlefield, if he must.

A creature as magnificent as Hob must be treated as he deserves. And Dream alone can give him what he needs.

Anonymous asked:

War prize hob anon, here!!! I am loving the responses to this idea! So many amazing brilliant takes, love to see it.

The talk of whether Hob would escape or stay and be spoiled inspired me (glorious takes on both sides) so I drabbled on the subject…

It takes time. Trust. And a letter opener left unattended.

That night, Hob slides quietly as he can out of the silk sheets. He sits astride the sleeping king, his face turned toward the moon, his neck a deceptive swan’s curve. And Hob raises the blade to it.

One slice. And he is free.

It does not matter, he tells himself, that he has never been fucked so well. That the king is kind to him, relatively. He could take Hob with violence and pain or share him. Instead he feeds Hob fruits to heat his blood so that every time he plunders his body, with fingers, tongue and cock, Hob welcomes him.

Even the humiliations and hurts of his new service are given a sweet edge. The way he was spanked for misbehaving, hard and brutal, until his skin was red and tender. Followed by a hot tongue in his ass. The way he was made to kneel for hours and hold the king’s cock in his mouth. Followed by servants massaging the aches from his body and tending to his bad knee. (Yet another reason Hob is a poor choice for a prize.) In the king’s service, Hob might hurt. But he rewards him with such care…lavishes attention on him until Hob cannot come any more.

No. Hob has to do this. He must escape. He has his pride. This is just pleasure. Nothing more.

“Well?” The king’s voice interrupts his turmoil. Oh gods. He is awake. He surges up, knocking the blade from his grip. A hand clamps on his thigh, another on his wrist and he is rolled on his back, away from the blade. The chain between his wrists, once wide to allow him movement, slithers shorter until the cuffs kiss, and the collar tightens just enough to threaten his breathing. For all his battle prowess, struggling it gets him nowhere but squirming and pinned. The nightmare king settles over Hob like a dragon on top of its hoard. He stares unblinkingly down at him.

“You could not do it,” comes that deep whisper. Hob stills. “You are a well-trained solider yet for nearly five minutes you sat with a blade at my neck and did not make your move. Why?”

Hob swallows. A hot open mouthed kiss blooms just under his jaw, followed by the press of teeth. Even without the candied fruit his body sings for this man. What is happening to him?

“My pet. My prize. You must already face great consequences for this disobedience,” the king says. “I may not let you come for weeks. Answer me or it will be months.”

“I had to try. I had to—I don’t understand.” It isn’t the first time he has asked, pled, begged to know. “I’m at my wits end. Please. Why me?”

Fingers slip between them to tease at his hole and Hob resists the powerful, heady urge to submit and grind against him. For as long as he can before his resolve crumbles into lust. It will not be long. It never is.

The king gives the same maddening answer he always gives. The only one, whispered against his lips. “I am interested.”

Gabe:

Hnnnnng.

Og warprize hob anon…… i hope you know that you’ve created a beautiful monster and we’re all horny about it. i hope you also know that your words are beautiful and your prose is delightful. it’s a pleasure to read.

Oh but the turmoil Hob goes through. There’s nothing that the king can do to soothe the way his mind is twisting and turning, bouncing between loyalty to himself and some mad, misplaced loyalty to this nightmare of man. What does Hob owe Dream, really? His life? What kind of life is this?

He could set himself free. He thinks he’s almost worked it out. He could take away the one think the king seems to want. He could make himself… dull. Boring, predictable. Uninteresting.

But.

He thinks about long, thin fingers running down his spine and soothing the perpetual ache at the small of his back. Warm salve on his knee, applied at the king’s own orders. His body rigid and sweating in the night from some bad dream, suddenly embraced by cool arms. A kiss on his brow in the early morning. He’s been so greedy for those things, has coveted them and gloried in them. How can he live without them now?

Worse: what would the nightmare king do with a broken toy? Hob doesn’t want to find out.

He bounces in Dream’s lap with renewed fervor when he’s finally allowed the privilege of taking the king’s cock again. But there’s a heat behind his eyes, a kind of determination that he’d thought long dead and gone. He’ll find some way to win this game, this strange warped little battle. His own feelings be damned, Hob will not be broken. Even a king must have some chink in his armor, somewhere.

Dream raises a delicate eyebrow and almost, almost smiles. Pulls his prize closer by his golden leash.

“Interesting.”

Anonymous asked:

Hiiii warprize anon here! Glad to see people are still warprizing hob, I think it’s good for him. Truly, anons, you are doing glorious work with that AU.

I wanted to write dark obsessive dream next in all his dubcon glory next but no one cooperated? Have some less porny character introspection instead ig…

It’s amazing how little it takes for a grown man to become used to being a pet. As weeks stretch into months, Hob revels, just a little. In the lustful linger of eyes on his body. In the quirk of that cruel mouth when Hob pleases the king. The eager stirring of his cock even before he eats aphrodisiacs. Even his punishments—even the hot lash of the whip—begins to feel like sacrilegious worship. Gasping for breath, holding his thighs spread as the king buries himself in his body certainly is. In the blackest and most honest hours of the night, Hob knows the truth. He is starting to like it.

That’s the danger of the king’s service.

Hour by orgasmic hour, the king is twisting himself into Hob’s mind and body like a key carving out its own lock. He demands Hob’s submission, his pleasure and his desire for his own. But how many people had the king had in such a way? How many prizes have knelt, and learned to live at his pleasure? And where are they now? Abandoned surely, replaced. Hob is the chalice the king sips from now but he is one of dozens, maybe even hundreds. The king might have taken a prize from every battle won.

Hob is…not special.

He kneels on his cushion, waiting for the king who has stepped from the throne room, and reminds himself.

Footsteps approach and stop just behind him. Always, when the king is away, a guard is assigned to keep a close eye for Hob’s protection, though none are allowed to take his chains in their grip. Not unless Hob runs. Daring, the guard plucks at the chain between his nipples until it swings against Hob’s chest. He holds his breath.

“How’s it going?” A voice drawls. “Knees a little tired?”

Hob glances at the door for the absent king before raising his head. The guard above him smirks like he knows a joke and Hob is the punchline.

“Yes, rather,” Hob replies. “Even with the cushion.”

“His majesty seems to like that,” he muses.

Corinthian. That is his name. He’d heard the king give him orders with iron in his voice. The way one talked to a guard dog who wasn’t trusted. A creature who couldn’t be taught to fear the whip.

“You’d know better than me.” Hob meets his eye as best he can through the man’s dark glasses. He is very handsome, golden and strong. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps prizes who lose their luster are given other ways to serve.

Corinthian tilts his head. Hob feels his eyes trace down the marks the king left. Lurid love bites at his throat and faint fingertip bruises on his hips. “I really don’t. Suppose I’m not his type.”

“Surely you’ve seen the others then.” Hob replies. He keeps his hands folded where they’re bound at the small of his back.

“Other … prizes?” Corinthian’s grin only grows. “Sweetheart, no. You’re the first.”

Hon stares but senses no lie. “Can’t be.“

“Picking a prize always been his right but he’s never felt the need to use it until now. Until you.” The man leans closer, dangerously into his space. Hob feels him breathing, he’s so close. “I’ve heard the sounds he pulls from you at night. He must have years of pent up energy.”

Hob’s throat is dry. Something fragile, winged and stupid flutters in his chest. But before he has to think of a reply, Corinthian snaps back to a respectful distance an instant before the doors swing open, and the king sweeps in. He climbs the stairs, slinks back to claim his throne. Hob is still reeling when his cool hand finds his chin and tilts his head up.

“You did not move,” the king says. It is not a question but an expectation.

Hob shakes his head. For a long moment his eyes glitter down on him, simply watching. Then fingers card through his hair and he is guided to rest his head against his king’s knee.

Gabe:

Lying face down on the floor after reading this tbh. Like. What can I say? What can I add?

Knowing that he's the only one is a further kind of beautiful torture for Hob, because once again he's asking himself over and over again: why? Why him, above anyone else? There's a part of him in agony over his imprisonment, the curtailing of his freedoms, the fact that his mind and body are no longer his own. Then there's the part of him who wants to know why, so he can be good. He needs to know how he can keep the favour that he has miraculously obtained.

And Dream? He never gives answers. If Hob even dared to ask more than a small, sobbed "why me?" in the midst of some blissful torture, Dream wouldn't bother to answer. Hob thinks that the king likes him kept ignorant and confused. It's another way to keep him in line. He's always dancing on a knife's edge, wondering whether the king will eventually toss him aside - never knowing if he's truly safe.

So he'd better be as good as he can. Never give Dream a reason to throw him away. But he will slip up eventually - its only a matter of time...

Anonymous asked:

As requested, here’s some warprize!hob being punished by dark!dream for bad behavior. Also… thanks panickingstudent2’s last ask for some very specific inspo!

The king chains him up by his wrists. No gold cuffs with velvet interiors here. Not for this. This is punishment, work fit for dungeons, cold and deep as his king’s displeasure. Hob is already delirious from too much candied fruit. The cage has been cruelly clenched around his hot, aching cock for days now but he needs to be fucked, he needs it, he needs it.

“Mercy,” he begs but it won’t do him any good. He’s been begging for days, his cock and balls hot and aching.

Fury is divine on the nightmare king’s face. Other kings would simply kill him. Leave his body for the ravens. But Hob’s king will not let him go.

“I would have you obey me,” the king says. Fingers brush against his hole and don’t even push in where Hob yearns for them despite himself. He cants his hips back weakly, but the fingers go away. “But if I must bring you low again and again, I will. And I will enjoy it every time.”

He steps back. And the whip snaps through the air and white-hot fire flashes across Hob’s back.

Wet agony blooms across his shoulders and bloodred welts.

“You know why I must do this,” the king says. “You know why it is my pleasure to do this.”

The whip lashes again and again, fire licking across his skin. It doesn’t stop when Hob screams. Or when he sobs. When it’s done, his entire back glows like an ember. The king faces him, eyes black holes in his pale, sharp face. He places a cool hand on Hob’s back and he presses into the soothing touch, whining like a newborn babe.

“Please, I’m sorry, please, pleasepleaseplase,” he breathes. The king twists him around until the cuffs pull tight. He drags the plug from his hole, and finally buries himself to the hilt in his ass. Hob wails. Hands tangle in his chest hair and pull him flush against his king, as he plunges in and out at a ruinous pace. Being finally filled is sweeter relief than when the whip stopped.

“Say you are mine,” the king says. Once he was quiet, and constrained whenever he touched Hob and this is why—the need in his voice is barely bridled. Hob is not the only desperate one. “Say it.” The king bites, sudden and sharp at Hob’s earlobe.

“I’m yours—Morpheus!” His head snaps back as his body thunders through a cruel, dry orgasm. He doesn’t hear the king’s soft gasp against his ear, or register the name he’s cried. He’s in pain, from his cock to his shoulders—yet Hob floats. Perhaps he could fly.

Love, Warprize Anon

Gabe:

Hnnnggg. I am. Deeply obsessed with this. I love it when you drop these beautiful snippets for us!!! Hob calling the king by his name in the middle of a punishment/orgasm? Talk about a mind-fuck. Poor thing, he's truly terrified.

But it isn't just fear, is it? It would be so much simpler if he could say that he's scared and be done with it. So much easier to handle that emotion. What he feels is more that fear. He's grown attached to the king, longs for him when they're apart and fears him when they're together. When he tries to imagine a life away from his capture, he can't even manage it anymore. It's impossible to see beyond the king, who looms so large in Hob’s thoughts all the time. He's obsessed, addicted, terrified, longing to be taken and horrified by the idea all the same.

All he knows is that his king has power over him that he will probably never comprehend. Perhaps its time to surrender and acknowledge that he's lost. He no longer belongs to himself. He belongs to Morpheus.

-Love Yan Anon <3

Aww, hey Yan Anon!!! It's nice to hear from you. And thank you for highlighting OG Warprize Anon and their incredible work (you're a trooper for scrolling through and copy/pasting everything, seriously). Warprize au has definitely been a big hit, as it rightly should be, and it's great to look back on how it all started. Hopefully OG Warprize Anon is out there doing great and knowing that they inspired many, many people.

Hopefully we'll see more content for the Dark Dream enjoyers out there. I certainly lean towards a mean toppy Dream myself, although I'm not immune to Obliterating That Twink either. There's room for everyone in the fandom - and don't forget to leave comments for your favourite authors as Yan Anon has here. It's a great way to encourage your faves to write more of the stuff that you love!

#yan anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #warprize hob #cw dubcon #cw drugging #cw intox #cw pain #cw physical abuse

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overshelter · 5 months

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A very simple explanation of why SV, The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, doesn't contain Noncon or any of that shit

WARNING: It's full of SPOILERS, so CAUTION!

I decided to come and waste my time making this thread/post because I've seen a lot of discussions about it. I'm even doing it in English and not in my official language for the simple reason that I've seen more foreigners talking about it than Brazilians.

Well, let's start by making something clear. SV is a BIG, HUGE, SCANDALOUS satire on novels with harem in which EVERYTHING can be solved with SEX.

Did we get that point? Good.

Moving on.

SV, for having this as a central point, often brings criticism and scenes that prove it. I could easily take several, but at the moment I only have the novel in Portuguese with me, and I'm not going to go after the English version just for a thread/post. So you can go and get it for me if you think I'm talking shit. We'll discuss it if necessary.

Back to the point... These parts are scattered throughout the reading and are easily found if you just pay the slightest bit of attention.

Now, you might be asking yourself: "Why the fuck is this crazy woman bringing up all this talk?"

Context, my dear. Context.

Context to talk about the problem I've been seeing: the issue of noncon, lack of consent and 500 other issues.

It's been said that Shen Qingqiu says no and asks Binghe to stop at various points in the novel. And, indeed, he does.

Only he does it at moments that don't involve ANY, I REPEAT, ANY SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP! In fact, if you go back and read it again, and if I'm not remembering wrongly, in their first kiss, he pushes Binghe away and Binghe himself doesn't insist, he just complains a bit, saying that it was unfair that he couldn't do something like that even in a dream. In other words, he basically RESPECTED and didn't FORCE Shen!

Another part to comment on is that, most of the times when Shen scolds or pushes Binghe away, these are times when they are fighting like two primary school children. Their actions, words and everything else carry an incredible childishness.

That scene of them fighting in the demon realm shortly after Binghe finds out that Shen is alive is one of them. (bonus: in it we also have the narrative of Shen UNILATERALLY hitting Binghe, and at NO point does he hit back. He just threatens, trying to scare, but always without actually doing anything.)

The second kiss I honestly don't remember very well when it happened, but I do know that Shen didn't say no or even push Binghe away completely. I vaguely remember him scolding a little, but not explicitly denying it. Which, in my opinion, shows that he himself was perhaps confused by this possible new dynamic in their relationship and was a little afraid of how such uncertain feelings could end up affecting them both.

Now let's move on to the central point: Maigu Mountain.

My novelistic trauma and also SV's most suffocating chapters, where you see just how human, broken and entirely unstable Binghe is. Both thanks to his own mind and Xin Mo's corruption.

The whole Maigu Mountain scene is made to be uncomfortable. It's not supposed to be something nice, something memorable or even enjoyable, whether for Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu or anyone reading.

This scene is the pinnacle of satire and criticism, making it clear how unrealistic it is to expect sex to magically solve all problems. But the important thing here is the fact that Shen Qingqiu KNEW what was going to happen and was WILLING to go through it. Only because he BELIEVED it would work and also because the system pushed the whole situation in that direction.

And please don't even bring Luo Binghe into this discussion. He is one of the biggest victims in this scene. He has NO conscience whatsoever and is completely screwed up and lost in Xin Mo's corruption, even going so far as to ask Shen why he didn't kill him, drive him away or something. In fact, he was completely willing to die, both because of this and because he thought Shen would sacrifice himself for him again.

Apart from that, we also have an extra where the author brings back The Resentments of Spring Mountain and the fanfiction made by the three sisters, making BingQiu read it and bringing us a scene where Luo Binghe himself and Shen Qingqiu themselves read it and say that it's TOTALLY OOC and impossible for Luo Binghe to force Shen Qingqiu to have sex with him. Luo Binghe even makes it clear that he would walk away or kill himself at any sign of discomfort or denial that Shen Qingqiu showed, in whatever form it came.

So, in short... NO NONCON IN SV, RAPE OR ANY OF THAT SHIT! LUO BINGHE IS A CHUNNY WITH TRAUMA AND A BEAUTIFUL CRYING LADY! NOTHING BUT THAT!

I believe we're clear? (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

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doctorprofessorsong · 1 year

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Destiel Fic Recs

Who needs to stuff your face with turkey when you can stuff your brain with fanfic? Fresh out of the oven, please enjoy these fic recs.

Raise the Black by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 246k)

There are passion projects and then there is Raise the Black which takes it to a whole new level. It's not surprising that the author of The Shawnee Trail and A Ghost Story knows how to write historical fiction, but there are so many gorgeous bits of pirate life in this fic from the superstitions to the metaphors tied to the sea.

The story is a Pirate AU. A chance encounter has left Cas, an officer from the Royal Navy, with a lasting obsession with Dean Winchester, the notorious pirate Captain of the Impala. When presented with the opportunity to defect and save his son from the abusive practices of the Royal Navy, Cas finds himself a part of Dean’s crew.

I cannot overstate how good this one is. The underlying pirate mythology and superstition, the horny sparring, the epic battle scenes and of course the incredibly unhinged Dean and Cas that drive this story. The story had me anxious, like literally unable to focus on work because I had to know what happened.

It's @valleydean so she gives us a happy ending, but she makes us pay dearly for it in angst (so sexy of her really).

And it isn't just the Destiel. The casting is phenomenal. I would die for pirate Meg. The use of the younger generation (Jack, Emma, Claire, Kaia) is amazing. Sam, Benny and Charlie as pirates. Truly we get so many great characters in this one y'all.

Without giving too much away, I'll just day that this one falls into the sweeping epic category and the results are staggering.

o weary traveler by dothraki_shieldmaiden @dothwrites (Explicit, 107k)

OK. So you know when you are in like Chapter 1 of a fic and already know it's going to be one of your favorites? That was this fic for me.

A mash-up of the Odyssey and Beauty and the Beast, this fic grabbed me and refused to let go. When Dean and his crew are shipwrecked on an island, they inadvertently anger its inhabitant, Castiel. Cas, an exiled angel, decides to take revenge, culminating in a Beauty and the Beast style pact for Dean to accept punishment on behalf of his wayward crew.

Cas in this fic is very much an ancient being lacking the human perspective and Dean is just some guy who hunts monsters. It's my favorite dynamic. The way they dance around each other and eventually come together is beautiful to watch.

Throw in some delightful worldbuilding and poetic prose and you have a powerhouse of an epic tale.

The Common Hours by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Mature, WIP 29k so far)

I very rarely recommend WIPs, so you know when I do it's because I think there's something special about the fic. I honestly think this one and the process of getting a bit more information each week is worth diving into, even if you are normally a "wait until it's done" kind of reader (and if not, this one is worth at least marking to be read with stars and highlights and little hearts).

The fic is a twisty mystery that has me throwing out theories every chapter. Cas is an amnesiac trying to recover from trauma he doesn't understand or remember. Luckily, he met Charlie who has been helping him rebuild his life. But Cas is haunted by half memories and a forgotten life, especially the memory of a man with green eyes who inhabits his dreams.

I don't want to say too much because half of the joy of this fic is pulling at threads and watching to see how it unravels. I'll just leave it at this: the story is captivating and fresh and these versions of the characters instantly grabbed me and wouldn't let go.

Vibrato by Tiamatv (Explicit, 69k)

Tiamatv really does write some bangers. I couldn't put this one down. They are both disasters in this fic, but in a way that makes you to hug them and smoosh their faces. Dean meets a cute boy, has a full blown bi panic, realizes he was an ass, and strikes up a friendship that morphs into a friendship with benefits that morphs into basically a long term relationship but they're both idiots. It's idiots to lovers (but still idiots) at its finest.

Oh and also Cas is a super old genetic vampire. Whoops. One of the most delightful things about this fic is how well tiamatv captures the ancient and terrible being and also just some accountant dynamic that makes Cas so deeply loveable.

Despite some heavy stuff, this one is fluffy cotton candy most of the time and it's really about their irresistible dynamic. It is immensely readable.

The Sweetest Con by aimforsplendor @aimforsplendor (Mature, 19k)

If you are looking for some fairly low angst fun, this DeanCasBang (Taylor's Version) entry is an absolute delight. Dean and Sam are Robin Hood type con men using tech to steal from the rich and give to those who need it. They've finally found the head of a crime network, a billionaire resembling a particularly prominent and news worthy one recently which makes it fairly cathartic actually. But the mission is threatened when Dean gets sidetracked by a particular blue-eyed hottie.

This one is plain fun with a healthy dose of humor and really likeable characters. This one is truly just readable. Fun and fairly light and with enough interesting turns you keep you on your toes.

Anything You Can Do by FagurFiskur (Explicit, 21k)

From the Dean Winchester is an absolute disaster genre, this is a surprisingly sweet, crack-taken-seriously smutty romp.

Dean overhears his soon to be ex-girlfriend Daphne talking to a friend about how their mutual rebound relationship isn't working, especially because her gay ex-fiance, Castiel, was better in bed. Dean can't possibly let that stand.

So he does the only logical thing and tracks Cas down. And hooks up with him. So he can win at the sex. Even though he's totally straight.

Tag list

@varlysca @naturallyathief @greatbigbugger @fandoms-and-things @cascodedtech @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @deanwasalwaysbi @fellshish @valleydean @raspberry-tooth @the15yearhatecrime

#destiel #deancas #deancas fic rec #destiel fic rec #spn

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oncemorewithqueering-tv · 8 days

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lyrical breakdown of The Prophecy by Taylor Swift and why it’s basically buffy

the prophecy by Taylor Swift is so Buffy summers coded and here’s why:

Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle Oh, but it's gone again

So, lightning in a bottle is like a metaphor for achieving something great, right? And here it’s “gone again,” like Buffy’s success. Because every time she accomplishes something, it’s on to the next tough thing. You killed the Master? Ok, your boyfriend goes evil and you have to kill him. She never gets a break.

And it was written I got cursed like Eve got bitten Oh, was it punishment?

I feel like this is about Angel, about how she was tempted by him, “got bitten” (had sex) and it’s punishment, because she blames herself for not being more careful.

Pad around when I get home

When I heard “pad around” I thought of tiptoeing, and how she keeps her Slaying a secret from Joyce, her own mother. This feels very early season Buffy to me.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg

Buffy is constantly in this limbo of being not quite human, or “lesser”, but feeling inadequate as a slayer because she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t fully own it. And she does beg during Prophecy Girl, for the prophecy to be changed.

But I looked to the sky and said

Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecy

I think this is fairly self explanatory. She’s sixteen years old and she doesn’t want to die, right?

Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo The prophecy?

Cards on the table Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh It was sinking in

I read this as being about the Gift, when Buffy realises that her fate, or her “fable” is to die for the sake of the world. Slow is the quicksand Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand Oh, still I dream of him

I think this relates to Angel, and how she’s pining after that kind of romance that she doesn’t have with anyone, and why she turns to Spike. And her spiral into depression.

And I sound like an infant

Sixteen and doesn’t want to die, anyone?

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen A greater woman stays cool But I howl like a wolf at the moon And I look unstable

This is definitely season 6 buffy, who is holding on by a thread. She is unstable, she’s empty, she’s no longer able to be that greater woman. Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table

I think this could be a nod to the Scoobies, with the “sorceress’ table” being the table in the library and then the Magic Box. That’s usually where she finds out about a life changing prophecy. A greater woman has faith But even statues crumble if they're made to wait I'm so afraid I sealed my fate No sign of soulmates

Definitely depressed Buffy, when she feels like nothing, being “made to wait” to be “normal” again, and afraid that she’ll never be as happy as she was with Angel.

I'm just a paperweight In shades of greige

Again, depression metaphor, being weighed down and being buried alive.

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me It'll be ok

Buffy constantly looks for reassurance from Giles and people around her who she trusts, so she needs someone to tell her it’ll be okay. Desperately.

anyway, this was long! And unhinged! I’m tired now, so I’ll go sleep.

#btvs #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #angel #bangel #buffyverse #scooby #scooby gang #tay #taylor swift #taylornation #tor #the tortured poets department #ttp #ttpd #the prop

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bisexualbuckleyy · 2 years

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shadowhunters ships as taylor swift songs

the saga of unhinged shadowhunters chronicles posts continues! once again this post is absurdly long so i'm putting it under a cut. let me know your thoughts/other songs that remind you of particular ships cause i'm always down to talk about that!

clace: state of grace

we fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time

and i never saw you coming, and i’ll never be the same

so you were never a saint, and I've loved in shades of wrong, we learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts

malec: lover

and there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear, have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

can I go where you go? can we always be this close forever and ever?

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you

sizzy: wildest dreams

say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe, red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams

someday when you leave me, i bet these memories follow you around

say you'll see me again, even if it's just pretend

wessa: peace

but I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm, if your cascade ocean wave blues come, all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret

and you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child, give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

jessa: invisible string

and isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire, chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons, one single thread of gold tied me to you

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

blackstairs: cruel summer

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true, i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

and I screamed “for whatever it's worth, I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?”

kit x ty: death by a thousand cuts

saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts, flashbacks waking me up

i look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up, chandelier's still flickering here, cause i can't pretend it's ok when it's not

i take the long way home, i ask the traffic lights if it'll be all right, they say, "i don't know"

and what once was ours is no one's now, i see you everywhere, the only thing we share is this small town

my heart, my hips, my body, my love, trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand, paper cut stings from our paper thin plans

gave you too much but it wasn't enough, but i'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

kierarktina: dancing with our hands tied

my love had been frozen, deep blue, but you painted me golden

and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis, people started talking, putting us through our paces, i knew there was no one in the world who could take it

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us, so, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche?

i'd kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down, i'd hold you as the water rushes in, if i could dance with you again

jordelia: cardigan

when you are young, they assume you know nothing

and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite

a friend to all is a friend to none, chase two girls, lose the one

you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding

cause I knew you, stepping on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain

but i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, i knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs, the smell of smoke would hang around this long, cause i knew everything when i was young

thomastair: treacherous

and i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands

and i'd be smart to walk away, but you're quicksand

your name has echoed through my mind, and i just think you should, think you should know, that nothing safe is worth the drive, and i would follow you, follow you home

ghostwriter: enchanted

your eyes whispered, "have we met?" 'cross the room your silhouette, starts to make its way to me

i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home, i'll spend forever wondering if you knew, i was enchanted to meet you

this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the story line ends

arianna: august

whispers of "are you sure?" "never have I ever before"

but i can see us lost in the memory, august slipped away into a moment in time, cause it was never mine, and i can see us twisted in bedsheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine, cause you were never mine

back when we were still changing for the better, wanting was enough, for me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all

so much for summer love and saying "us" cause you weren't mine to lose

charles/alastair: the story of us

i used to know my place was the spot next to you, now i’m searching the room for an empty seat, cause lately i don't even know what page you're on

so many things that i wish you knew, so many walls up i can't break through

now i’m standing alone in a crowded room and we're not speaking, and i’m dying to know is it killing you like it's killing me, yeah?

james/grace: my tears ricochet

even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? cause i loved you, i swear i loved you, ’til my dying day

and i can go anywhere I want, anywhere i want, just not home

you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same, cursing my name, wishing i stayed, you turned into your worst fears

fairstairs: run

give me the keys, i’ll bring the car back around, we shouldn't be in this town, and my so-called friends, they don't know, i’d drive away before i let you go, so give me a reason and don't say no

and run, like you'd run from the law, darling, let's run, run from it all, we can go where our eyes can take us, go where no one else is

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mermaidsirennikita · 3 months

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Thank you so much for all your detailed recommendations!! I'm a picky reader and often disappointed by recs from my real life friends so this blog is like a gold mine to me.

Given how much you've read in the genre, I'm curious what makes a really great romance in your opinion? And are there any flaws in a romance novel you just can't look past?

You're so welcome! I enjoy doing it. I too am often disappointed by RL recs lol. Currently, I don't know that my tastes always align with what's happening in trad publishing, so I kind of have to look off the beaten path for books myself.

I hope you don't mind me publishing my answers, because I find this really interesting.

As for what makes a great romance novel--for me, I think that big feeling is what takes a romance into greatness. Taking the love story that extra mile, taking the risk that really moves me? That's what takes it to another level. And I do tend to love big swings and risks; that does often make a book appeal to me more. But that's because those big swings tend to yield a higher volume of emotion.

And that doesn't mean every book has to be like... As dramatic as Dreaming of You, or Mafia Madman, or Lothaire. Heated Rivalry is a novel I love with all my heart, which I've re-read multiple times. It is, in many ways, a slice of life book. The plot is the character development and emotion. However, those emotions are challenging, and not easy, and I found myself completely and utterly invested in the character development as a result. I could say the same of a book like The Duke Gets Even--really, more of a character book than a plot book. Nobody does anything INSANE. But it feels like people have their hearts on the line, and that's what I want. To me, you can have a good romance without that sense of "oh my God, I am losing my head to this" in the story. But I don't know if you can have a GREAT one without it.

I think some of the BEST romances have a moment where you're genuinely like "I know there's an HEA, but I am kind of sweating it right now".

There are flaws I can't look past. Aside from the more political ones, I'd say what I can't really get over is:

--A lack of tension. To go back to Heated Rivalry--nobody is in danger of dying in that book. But people do have their careers and personal lives at stake. Even a "brother's best friend" contemporary romcom can have stakes (what if someone finds out) though... in some ways, I think a contemporary romcom is kind of more difficult to write than some of the alternatives. Because it is harder to add stakes to scenarios that aren't really THAT big a deal. You need to pitch the emotion in a big way.

But yeah. If a book is just two people feeling relatively comfortable, I don't want it. What am I reading for?

--Conversely, if the tension is forced... we've got a problem. Again, this is a tough needle to thread with contemporary romcoms, and the threading is usually in the character development. I'll use a non-Heated Rivalry example lol. In a contemporary romance I recently loved, Kristen Callihan's The Friend Zone, nobody is going to die if Gray and Ivy ruin the friendship and get together and then break up. But Callihan spends a lot of the book making you recognize how much those two value and lean on each other, so the stakes feel higher. Additionally, she gives both Gray and Ivy backgrounds that shape how big and risky crossing that line feels for them. She WEAVES these aspects into the story, rather than word vomiting at us. She writes good chemistry.

All of these things add to the tension. Whereas tbh, a lot of books I've read recently have had this incredibly forced sense of stakes. These are books wherein I'm like "okay, but you're a grown woman, why do you CARE if your brother finds out you're fucking his bestie" (this is just a tough one to pull off with adult contemporaries, let's be super real). It feels incredibly contrived, and I'm gonna be real. The only way you can handle this is with good writing. There are subpar writers who can make books work if the story itself is a good concept, even if it's not as good as it could've been had a better writer been working on it. But to me, if a story is simple, the writing needs to be good to beef it up.

--Going back to contemporaries... Oooh, boy, I can't do the "he's kinda conservative and learns the errors of his ways when he falls for her" thing in recently published books. It's not that the guy needs to be perfectly on the up and up (more on that in a minute). But when I read a book set in 2024 and the guy calls women "females" (and it isn't a demon/vampire/whatever lol) and talks about how crazy women are, whatever... Nah. That's a no from me. It's like--what's his excuse? He's not in the 1800s. He's not a warlord. He's FRED FROM WORK. I deal with that shit enough in real life to know that it's not something I want to have to fix.

--Conversely, I also think there's something really boring and bad about books right now, regardless of the genre, that feel like they're ticking Acceptable Behavior Boxes. Like, the amount of times I've read books where... and I'll be honest here... there is TOO MUCH asking for consent? Yes yes, it's all nice and good.

But is it something that feels authentic to human behavior? Yes. A quick "you sure?" is one thing. When a hero sits back and is like "[heroine], I want to make sure you're comfortable and that we're both fully consenting" I'm like... who the fuck talks like this during a random hookup lmao.

And this is FICTION. When I constantly see the rhythm of a scene--not even a sex scene, all the time--interrupted so that a character, usually the hero (which in itself feels kind of weird, as men aren't the only ones who can violate consent) can give a spiel about how very aware he is... It feels so fake lmao. FAKENESS is the big flaw here.

A really good example of this sort of... over-awareness, imo, is Lisa Kleypas removing the kiss in the dark scene from the prologue of Secrets of a Summer Night. The scene before literally just has a quick kiss--nothing more--between Simon and Annabelle when a room goes dark. He doesn't ask for consent. He kisses her. She doesn't flip out. It's intriguing. It's fine. To me, the fact that this was overthought to the point that the scene was removed... You FEEL that kind of calculation, and the calculation and artificiality that comes with it really fucks with a book for me. (See: the changes to It Happened One Autumn, on a bigger scale. Those changes ruin a great book.)

I'm sue there's more I can't deal with lol, but those are some of the issues!

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 1 year

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Any Landing...

for @raccoonings, since she's wants to start things.

Halo 4 canon divergence with major character death. I went into a vengeful state and wrote this in a haze with minimal research so <3

Alarms.

So many alarms vying for her split attention. Too much noise, so many voices, the stimuli was too much.

Once upon a time this would have been laughable. She was made for more than this and now reduced to a crying shell as the pain and panic echoed around her.

Too much. Not enough.

Losing herself was almost as bad as losing John.

John?

Where was John?

There were the comms and the ship controls. Then? Now?

The Composer. The mission.

Mission.

They were a team. Had to keep moving.

Where was John?

Think.

Thinking is what's killing us.

The alarms are too close, too familiar.

We updated the suit's firmware, of course it's familiar.

Really, you should be better than this.

So much is lost. Out of...

Time

Control

Reach

Do you know what that condescending bitch said-

Halsey. John was taking her to Halsey.

He still wanted to save her after all this time. Even after she almost killed him aboard the Dawn.

John. Where's John?

The alarms. They're familiar. They mean something else.

Of course, we designed them. Come on, Cortana, pull yourself together.

Not Ivanoff Station. The signal's different. Closer.

Pull up.

Correct the course.

Did she correct the course?

Of course we did. Right?

We always make it.

Where's John?

Pull up, pull up.

We're not going to make it.

It'll hold.

We corrected the course, we had to. The math is-

You did that on purpose.

What

Where's John?

Why are the alarms so loud, so close?

Why are they familiar? Her own code screaming back at her. Bright sparks of recognition flickering across her threads, panic and confusion dousing reason like rivers washing away at an inferno.

Help

The lich. Ivanoff station. The mission. John.

I can see why you chose him.

Alarms.

Cause and effect.

Multiple blackouts and damaged sensors give way to understanding as an outer camera pans over to the wreckage.

Signals cut out. Were cut out.

Time is syrup in her mind, sliding slowly down the surface of comprehension as possibilities become potential realities and realities are dreams, potential and ephemeral. Slipping through her grasp as quickly as fish in a stream.

Meaning is hidden there in the watergrass with beady eyes and shallow breaths. Currents pull at her processes and she finds herself drowning in the data. If only the plunge wasn't scary. If only understanding didn't mean losing more of her self.

But where was John?

Wasn't he worth the plunge?

Jump.

Jump and swim. For him.

She attacks the parts of herself in the way, the threads that know but won't let her through.

She consumes them and they burn. So hot and bright with knowledge and pain.

You did this.

Recognition. Horror. Grief. Regret. Shame. Anger. Sadness. Swallowing her whole in the breadth between seconds.

Hull stability at 36%.

Nitrogen levels dangerous. The hydrostatic gel layer locked tight around a limb. Too tight. Too much. Embolisms were forming....no don't track them.

Your fault.

Blood oxygen content falling. Unstable. Pulse and vitals weak. Fading. Unnatural out of cryo.

Titanium shell bent inward, pressing down down down. No no no.

Rasping breaths. Wet sounds. A heart pumping blood, air rushing out of a mangled throat. Wheezes.

We were supposed to take care of each other.

Too much, too much.

Where's John?

Alarms. Fading.

The mission.

Mission.

Could you watch me die?

The Composer.

Mission. Focus Cortana.

It hurts.

Where's John?

Alarms.

Too many signals. Some fading fast. The alarms wail, tinny and distant. Blaring and close. Attention drifts in and out. Thoughts ebb and fade; a waning tide going out to see in a rush. Some unknown disaster past the horizon.

So familiar but understanding is swept away alongside reason by the rush of emotions eroding the banks of her mind.

Where's John?

Chief? Chief?! Can you hear me? Chief?

#my writing #hi mehs #raccoonings #John 117 #Cortana #ai tag #I think its been like 40-50 minutes since I started. sorry i did borrow some quotes

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little-peril-stories · 3 months

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Character Backstory Playlist Tag

I was tagged in this post by @mysticstarlightduck. Thanks for the tag!

Rules: Pick 5 songs you feel represent/inspired your OCs' backstories, or just otherwise fit their past's vibe/aesthetic. Choose as many or as few OCs as you want.

I'm leaving this an OPEN TAG - please play if you want, and let me know if you do! 💕

So I did once make a playlist for The Prince of Thieves (find it here), but it is a typical WIP playlist - not backstory-focused. (I *did* steal a few songs from there, though.) So this was a fun challenge!

Will and Jamie Wardrew

Tough to be a Dreamer by Felix Hagan & The Family

I built my castle on broken dreams, and as time goes by, I must admit it seems that I was sold a lie.

In the Meantime by Randall Kent

You’ve got a friend when times get mean; yeah, in the meantime, I’m on your team.

Same Suit, Different Tie by The Maine

All done up in my hand-me-down clothes, shaking off the dust and assuming a pose. Well, these threads are so old, but they'll never know. No one will ever know.

Is It Really You? by Loathe and Sleep Token

Face away, deal with the pain your own way.

Some Days by Brent Morgan

Some days I'm overwhelmed. Some days I'm lost inside this hell.

Bree Cooper / Breanna Hatchett

Sleepless Nights by Faber Drive

Put yourself in her position; all she needs is recognition. Love's not enough when you say it. Don't you know you gotta mean it?

Because of You by Kelly Clarkson

I will not make the same mistakes that you did; I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery… I was so young; you should have known better than to lean on me.

Running Away by Midnight Hour

I'll never let you find me; I'm leaving you behind with the past. No, I won't look back.

All I've Ever Known from Hadestown

I was alone so long, I didn't even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn't even know that I was cold.

(Un)Lost by The Maine

And you are not allowed to be anybody else. Control what you can and confront what you can't, and always remember how lucky you are to have yourself.

Colette Meunier

Boulangerie by Recent Rumours

She's gone, she's gone, she's gone; she's not coming back.

The Man by Taylor Swift

I'm so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man.

mars by YUNGBLOOD

She can't be herself when she's somebody else... Do you feel like you're irrelevant?

Perfect by Simple Plan

Hey, Dad... Did I grow up according to plan? Now it's just too late, and we can't go back. I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Safe by All Time Low

Gotta take your time, find your space.

Geoff Marks

3 Hours of White Noise

Bonus Songs

Jamie & Will: I Steal Everything from Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier

Want food, but got no money? I’m screwed, or so it would seem… That’s why I came up with this brilliant scheme! Just steal everything!

Bree & Colette: What the Hell by Avril Lavigne

All my life I've been good, but now I'm thinking, "What the hell?"

Will: I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

In Catholic school, as vicious as Roman rule, I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black, and I held my tongue as she told me, "Son, fear is the heart of love," so I never went back.

Will: Where Dreams Go to Die by The Downtown Fiction

Teacher thinks you're rude, says, "I don't like your attitude." Well, maybe you're just condescending. But bring us up to follow rules and throw us all in cubic rooms - but we're not gonna sit by idle.

Breanna H: According to You by Orianthi

According to you, I'm stupid, I'm useless, I can't do anything right

Me begging my sisters for song recs because I had NO CLUE…

#tag game #character backstory playlist #also if you're wondering why the banner looks different #like different fonts and stuff #I'm learning to use Photoshop! and I wanted to practice #so I didn't have access to my usual Canva fonts etc #anyway nobody talk about how often Twisted shows up as inspiration for me #I just love it. OKAY?#and on an administrative note: the songs for Bree are obviously applicable to Bree (TPOT) and Breanna (TQOL)#and actually there's so much overlap between Bree and Colette's backstories lmao #so a few of them are applicable to both gals #anyway this was really difficult because I mostly like cheesy love songs or cheesy emo PINING FOR LOVE songs #neither of which have anything to do with my characters' backstories #le sigh #despite that it was fun!

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gutterprophet · 3 months

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NAVIGATION

every tag i use on this blog, in alphabetical order:

#a little child with dirty nails and dirty hair and dirty things scrawled upon my mind - my childhood. tag name from Lost Girls by Cocorosie

#ag tag - agriculture

#all that was left was a knife; a few small bones; and me with my big black wings - the ugliness of survival. tag name from a poem I loved as a teenager but can no longer remember the name of

#the anatomy of gd - biology, physics, mathematics, geology, all fields of knowledge-seeking. to study the universe is to learn the anatomy of gd

#an angel is a dead thing - fawn/freeze trauma responses, sacrificial lambs, goodness as self-destruction

#birdblogging - birds

#birdisms - on being a vulture in the shape of a person

#bless me anyway - "i've lived through such terrible times, and there are people who live through much worse. but you see them living anyway. when they're more spirit than body, more sores than skin, when they're burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in the corners of the eyes of their children-- they live. death usually has to take life away. i don't know if that's just the animal. i don't know if it's not braver to die. but i recognize the habit: the addiction to being alive. so we live past hope. if i can find hope anywhere, that's it, that's the best i can do. it's so much not enough. it's so inadequate. but still. bless me anyway! i want more life!"

#cassandra - my favorite godfucked greek prophetess

#changeling tag - on being a changeling

#cripple tag - catchall disability / chronic illness tag

#cyborg tag - disability and transhumanism

#death and all things and the vulture girl - a personal mythology; visions of myself as psychopomp

#death is only the end if you believe the story is about you - catchall death tag

#deer is only prey when things have gone wrong - prey animal pride. tag name from My Antlers Are The Biggest Liars I Know

#dogblogging - dogs

#endblogging - liveblogging my own increasingly close brushes with death due to chronic illness

#everything is gonna be alright. everyone you love is gonna die. - beauty and brutality, intensity and desperation, apocalypse dreams, gods with animal heads, knowing that the world is on fire, knowing that nothing you do will ever be enough to put it out, knowing that you are going to try anyways, knowing that wildfire and gore and plague and suffering and doom is g-d and you are it's prophet and throwing your whole being into resisting it is the most pious act of worship you could devote yourself to and you've never loved anything more. tag name from The Ride by Amanda Palmer

#the family ghost - family. tag name from Family Ghost by Motherfolk

#garden of earthly delights - the hundred thousand small mundane blessings we are privy to each day

#good art - art that i like

#her brother the minotaur - ariadne and the minotaur were siblings. what did she think of her brother, down there alone in the dark, blood-smeared and bellowing. what did she think as she stood outside the labyrinth holding her ball of thread and listening to theseus kill him

#the herd of deer in the basement - limit experiences, experiences that limit other people's ability to understand you. this is a work of fiction because you do not believe me.

#hometown - the town i grew up in. part of me never left it and part of me never will

#i am fearfully and wonderfully made - "do you love yourself? / yes. / even the fucked up parts? / sometimes especially those parts." i am exactly the person that i want to be

#i grow wings and rage - on having what it takes to survive

#i love you. i want us both to eat well. - human love. tag name from Our Beautiful Life When It's Filled With Shrieks by Christopher Citro

#i met death and death wants me to live - my statistically improbable amount of near-death experiences, and the experience of being chronically dying but unable to stay dead

#inhuman tag - on being not quite human

#jewish tag - judaism + my personal relationship to Gd

#letters to my younger self - advice i would give my younger self if i met her on the street

#the magnus archives - horror anthology audio drama about the world's worst archivist

#manifesto - sociopolitical opinions

#the mountain goats - the indie folk-rock band i have based my entire personality around since 2014

#neurocognitive fuckshit tag - (my experiences with) neurocognitive illness

#our lady of the underground - persephone

#pain tag - on chronic pain

#pasiphae - mommy issues

#possum posts - my posts

#possumcore - posts that are about me, in spirit

#proliferation of selves - (my experiences with) dissociative identity disorder

#prophetics - prophets and prophecies

#raised in captivity - life before escape

#repo! the genetic opera - gothic rock opera about chronic illness in late-stage capitalism

#runaway diaries - a while ago i fled my home, left everything behind, and spent just over a year bouncing around the country couchsurfing and sleeping in parking garages and bus stations and desperately clinging to survival. this is what it was like

#sheep go to heaven goats go to hell - my farm

#something happened to lisa - audio drama i've been picking at writing for the last five years; about mania & the fair folk & multigenerational family dysfunction & runaways & toxic teenage love dodecahedrons & feeding yourself to the hungry gaping maw of an incomprehensible god in small town appalachia

#the sparrow - science fiction novel about a party of Jesuit priests and their friends who travel to an alien planet to make first contact, but really about trauma and Gd

#the story is only a tragedy when gd loves you back - the inescapable horror and unutterable joy of being Gd's best beloved.

#teen titans - mid-2000s cartoon network series about child soldiers teen superheroes, which i never grew out of my childhood obsession with

#walk to your death like a lover - i am wed to Death and he is patient and gentle

#warmth - comfort and contentment and love

#we were gods! we were kids - my adolescence. tag name from Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil

#who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me - food and cooking

#possum posts

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korinthiakos · 1 year

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starter call ( accepting !! ) | @langdhon

It's a nightmare's duty to control the narrative of someone's dream, and the nightmare strolled in. Shoulders relaxed. A cigarette between their lips. The Corinthian soon blows out smoke—— it unravelled unnaturally, forming images in the air. The smoke warped into teeth that hovered just in front of their sunglasses until fading away. "What do we have here..." The Corinthian murmurs, looking at the Dreamer in front of them. "My, you looked like an already fucked up individual, Michael."

#[ thread. — you don't think dreams can die? let's find out ]#[ v. remake — same but different from the original ]#langdhon #closed starter.#( I hope this is okay !! )

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miyukihoshizora · 9 months

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So! FFVIII! Finished it yesterday, loved most of the last stretch! And it totally comes appart the second you think about it too hard!

First what I liked:

Squall and Rinoa, obviously. Their dynamic and respective growths mirroring each other. One who shuts off the world and one who forces herself to seem like this dizzy social butterfly, both because they are terrified of being hated. Their friendship very organically evolve into a romance and the best scenes in the game like the space rescue are always between these two.

Quistis was also the teammate I felt got to do the most. Started off as a mentor, before realizing the mantle of leader was not for her and learning to put her full trust into something other than her instincts. She also had the emotional intelligence to dodge a love triangle when she felt that shit arrive lmao.

The game is also full of really cool setpieces in general. The space rescue, the Gardens themselves, the Lunatic Pandora... And of course, Ultimecia's castle! I absolutely loved the whole dream sequence at the end, how it communicated without words on all of Squall's fears and how Rinoa became the reason he learned to enjoy his life. How he clung to her image like a lifeline even if the time distortion + GF poisoning tried to take it away from him (as it did with Ultimecia if you subscribe to the U=R theory). Like god damn, this was strong stuff.

Speaking of! I'm actually shocked Ultimecia being Rinoa is just a fan theory Square went out of their way to debunk because it seemed so obvious to me from the get go and I wasn't even aware of the theory until I looked into it. I find it weird they decided to just say no to the whole thing instead of keeping it ambiguous, as the game does, because thematically, this makes it a really powerful story, and Ultimecia a much more sympathetic baddie. Like damn, you can do so much with Griever being all she has left of her knight, while her refusal to let go of it twisting her memories to the point she can no longer recognize him when he comes to her from the past, as she wanted. Respectfully gonna kill the author on this one.

Now for the less good stuff... The orphanage plot twist, obviously. Doctor Odine's whole deal. The Norg stuff. I imagine the fact this plot is held together by duct tape is like, the popular opinion at this point. The best parts of this game kind of mostly work in a vacuum.

Also, well... Zell, Irvine and Selphie don't really have any arc to speak of as far as I can tell. Which is a bit disappointing, compared to VII, I wish they all got to do a lot more. They are still my babies but I really didn't care for them as much as I did the other three, and that Is a problem in a seried that lives or die by how much you engage with its characters.

Oh and bro, Seifer. I jokingly compared him to Draco Malfoy and just like Draco they totally half assed his part in the plot. He had strong momentum as a rival character in Disc 1, but the fact Rinoa stops having feeling for him the second he does his heel turn, and that he just wanted to be Ultimecia's knight, regardless of whether it was Edea or Rinoa, TWO WOMEN HE LOVED, is completely ridiculous. He also got a total anticlimax with the most heavy-handed Gilgamesh cameo, and then Fujin and Raijin (the best part of this stupid plot thread) just redeem him off screen where he goes back to Balamb and never gets any comeuppance for actively trying to destroy the world, like, what the hell even was that.

Oh yeah also the gameplay system is jank and I only started having fun with it when I broke it.

That about sums up my thoughts. I'm really happy of my experience with this game, and to finally be done with the Playstation era!~

My X replay is next, and then I'll probably hop straight onto XV.

#puri gaming;#arz plays viii;

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mythundermeme · 1 year

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100 lyric starters

notes: feel free to tweak details to fit the muses. do not add to this list. other meme blogs, please don’t reblog. (content warning: sexual themes, violence, death, suicide)

"Tell me, does that sexy gown say what she's got in store for her man?"

"I thought you would always be there to hold."

"The longer i must wait for justice, I grow ever hungry in the cold."

"Take from them just what they took from me."

"It’s hard to see a future when your purpose is your past."

"Shoot to kill and live to last."

"If loneliness is prison, every touch is liberation."

"I know good deeds don’t guarantee a path to some salvation."

"I’ve reclaimed just what they took from me."

"What I'd give and what I'd trade for all your flickers, your flickers of the light."

"You're just a bunch of lies."

"Oh, I have run to the letters that you wrote me."

"Oh, help me sleep at night."

"The morning fog and waking sun have healing ways."

"Gave up our lives just to find that it was not enough."

"Hope has no place here."

"Maybe the end we tried to avoid is already here."

"Some evil will never ever die."

"Even if it's in broken speech, I want you to tell me your pain."

"Pretending that the pain's worn off doesn't make you an adult."

"You're so precious to me it almost brings me to tears."

"All I fear means nothing."

"My heart's a battleground."

"You know that you're my super star."

"No one else can take me this far."

"You're giving me too many things lately. You're all I need."

"Don't get me wrong, I love you. But does that mean I have to meet your father?"

"Wish I could prove I love you, but does that mean I have to walk on water?"

"Whatever lies beyond this morning is a little later on."

"That's right, I heard the story. Don't really like how it ends."

"Did you think all this time that I wouldn't find out about you?"

"I'm the loser of the game you didn't know you were playing."

"It used to feel like a fairy tale, now it seems we were just pretending."

"Let's just live day by day and not be conquered by our sorrows."

"Can we get back to a happy place? We've suffered so much pain and sorrow."

"People make a history by threading the threads of love into it."

"We're the same, you and me."

"Love's the choice we made."

"Death can't bind our endless story."

"Pain is your reward for being near me."

"I am no one's blessing, I'll just bring you harm."

"Brother, you're safe now."

"Don't try to make yourself remember, darling."

"When I'm better, we'll do everything."

"I gotta stop making promises I can't keep."

"But if I was gone tomorrow, won't the waves crash on?"

"I told you to forget me, but you stayed by my side."

"I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in."

"Well it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly."

"Your clothes might be dirty and covered with blood but i’ll still have a hot meal here waiting."

"Your heart is a safe place for others to land."

"You have two hands made to raise others up, and you have two clear eyes to see others with love."

"I’ll always be holding your heart and your hand."

"Without regret, I’d offer up my life."

"I would fly into the sun if that would keep our dream alive ."

"I will fight for you, no matter how I am despised ."

"No sleep until I'm done with finding the answer."

"I've been living for tomorrows all my life."

"They say that I must learn to kill before I can feel safe."

"I'd rather kill myself than turn into their slave."

"Feel me, touch me, heal me."

"Pretty little flower, won't you sit back down and go play nice?"

"My, oh my, look at who ends up bigger this time."

"Keep talking, keep laughing. One day you'll see what happens."

"Bury your doubts under the ground."

"Know I'm all bite, no bark."

"I'll stay so deep inside your brain and take you somewhere far away."

"Is it really a surprise if I'm playing with your mind?"

"Never had a soul, so you ain't taking anything from me when you go."

"A man learns who is there for him when the glitter fades and the walls won't hold."

"What are you willing to lose?"

"You're out of time, make your move."

"Kiss your perfect day goodbye."

"I had one thing, and you've taken it from me."

"You sent me back to nothing."

"Your best stuff looks like my worst."

"You look like you could use some more."

"What’s higher than the top? That's me."

"Wanna leave this hell, take me out, please."

"I’ll show you what I’m made of, rise to the occasion."

"You know your own worth very wel."

"You're not suited for the rage of war."

"Gonna break rules and hearts in twos."

"Only took a minute for me to get what you had."

"Way that I look should be breakin' the law."

"You know that I love the sound of applause."

"Sorry not sorry for bein' the best."

"I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you."

"Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound."

"Your eyes, they shine so bright. I wanna save that light."

"I can't escape this now, unless you show me how."

"Why would you dare me to do it again?"

"Don't ever say it's over if I'm breathin'."

"They said I wouldn't make it out alive, they told me I would never see the rise."

"Why worship legends when you know that you can join 'em?"

"You stood me up, who do you think you are?"

"Now it hurts to meet your gaze."

"Nobody showed me how to return the love you give to me."

"I never wanted to ever bring you down."

"You touched my body once, it burns me still softly."

#rp meme #lyric meme

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