#((I know this is long so I did what I did in ''The Puppeteer 2'' where I had pictures to break it up.))

[utilitycaster]

@rowzeoli replied to your post “Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias...”:

I rarely go on tumblr so sorry if you see me spamming your posts tonight, but I really enjoy your perspective and thoughts! I think I'm the journalist you're referencing in regards to the Fantasy High Junior Year article and unfortunately 1) journalists only get access to interview subjects at very specific junctions (usually press day before the series goes out or halfway through) 2) most publications are honestly Going Through It and cutting freelance rates and just not paying to cover AP

​So I'll be totally honest - I post on Tumblr because I assume it is far more unlikely to be seen and so I can vent freely (hence the fairly harsh tone of the criticism in the original post), but I guess this is a chance to clarify. I don't expect anything to change, nor do I expect you to respond; indeed, I wouldn't blame you if you block me after this. But if readership is down (and who knows? maybe it's not and I'm the outlier), this may be illuminating.

The issue with your specific article - which I brought up relatively tangential to the larger point of "at this point I think Polygon's AP/TTRPG coverage is a waste of time to read" isn't really that it's only an early look at the series; and because Fantasy High Junior Year is at this time ongoing, it's honestly entirely valid that there hasn't been a follow-up. It's, well, the "surface-level and factually wrong" issue.

Dimension 20 was by no means the pioneer of remote recording as you claim in your article; that had long been the default of smaller recorded AP shows well before pandemic lockdown for the simple reason that if you're not a media company the overhead is very low - no need to have a dedicated space or even cameras beyond decent laptops. Burrow's End's puppetry? Critical Role's Call of Cthulhu: Shadow of the Crystal Palace did shadow puppets in 2019. They had diagetic audio on the main campaign as early as 2016. I don't even like Kollok, but that's had complex set design since 2019. Meanwhile premise of the article is yet another rehash of Polygon's "Dimension 20 is CHANGING THE GAME" constant drumbeat, while your actual pull quotes from Brennan Lee Mulligan are him musing that this is simply an entry in an ancient tradition of storytelling and isn't, in fact, terribly novel. The interview fails utterly to back up your point and indeed contradicts it; I get that the timeline was probably tight but this is outright incorrect in multiple places and your argument isn't just unsupported; it's outright dismissed by the very person you claim is proving it. If the premise came before the interview, it needed to be reworked afterwards, and if it came after the interview…I'm not sure what to say, really.

This isn't your article, and I'm putting it here to illustrate that this has been a pattern for Polygon's AP coverage specifically. This article about Worlds Beyond Number is perhaps my favorite example of "this is not serious journalism:" Rusty Quill Gaming, The Adventure Zone, Friends at the Table, and NADDPod are all theater of the mind long-running podcasts (RQG's campaign lasted a whopping 7 years of real time) and that's just off the top of my head; the idea of a long-running edited audio podcast being novel is laughable. RQG and TAZ both started at level 1; I'm not personally familiar with Friends at the Table. I don't actually think starting at level 1 vs. 2 is terribly important in storytelling in the first place other than that a few D&D classes pick their subclass at L2 and that choice can be narratively relevant, which it was in TAZ; however, some classes pick a subclass at L3 so you can still achieve this with a level 2 start (as Critical Role's second campaign does). Both Emily Axford of NADDPod and Griffin McElroy of TAZ have long been composing their own music and RQG is heavily sound designed. These are not obscure pulls, either; these are some of the more well-known names in the space.

At this point, Polygon AP/TTRPG articles - by multiple different writers - simply feel like madlibs: "(actual play show) is groundbreaking in its (thing that other shows have been doing for 5+ years); I especially liked (visual effect) and (incorrect understanding of TTRPG mechanics)."

The people I allude to in the post you responded to as having egregiously uncharitable and sanctimonious takes on Daggerheart (within, again, hours of its publication) are a frequent Polygon contributor and a Rascal editor and they further my mistrust of those publications: There is this constant insistence that everything they like be "groundbreaking" and "innovating" and they will claim this even when it's demonstrably not the case, as the above examples note. As Mulligan says in your article "it’s important to keep new artists with new experiences and backgrounds flowing in," and yet by focusing intensely on high production values (difficult for smaller indie upstarts to have) and by incorrectly claiming that a well-established media company within the space like D20 invented a number of things it flat out did not, this journalism is actively, if unintentionally, working against that goal. As I put it elsewhere, Polygon's bizarre pedestaling of Dimension 20 and simultaneous putdowns of Critical Role (which turn into wild contortions when D20 mainstays like Mulligan or Aabria Iyengar collaborate with CR; for that matter others besides me have observed that Polygon acts like Spenser Starke is two different people, the genius who created Alice is Missing and the knuckle-dragging moron who put out Candela Obscura and Daggerheart) coupled with the obsession with production values over story has the whiff of claiming they're the champion of the little guy for sticking it to the 700 lb gorilla in the space and then focusing on 500 lb gorillas while making it impossible for smaller monkeys to compete because most brand new shows without the name recognition of someone like Mulligan involved can't exactly hire Rick Perry to do their models or Taylor Moore to do sound design.

I suppose a good way to put this, since I've run into this in many spaces, not just AP/TTRPG or even journalism, is that bias on its own in a subjective medium isn't inherently bad; but if something is so nakedly biased against something I love, I will, naturally, turn to it with a far more critical eye, and if its arguments are not ironclad I'm going to start noticing every structural issue in every argument and every tiny mistake. Sure, as a fan of Critical Role, and as someone who feels that Kollok was nigh-unwatchable and that Burrow's End was promising in parts but deeply flawed, I disagreed with Polygon's nonstop mud-slinging towards the former and glowing, verging on fawning reviews of the latter two. But that's not entirely damning on its own; I do get that not everyone will like Critical Role and that some people will love Kollok or Burrow's End for valid reasons. What's damning is the journalism itself is riddled with factual errors and the analysis is so weak that to call the arguments a flimsy house of cards would be generous. The opposite is also true; if Polygon's lead editor were out here repeatedly misspelling the name of one of the main characters in Worlds Beyond Number (note: this has since been corrected) but the articles had compelling arguments, even ones I disagreed with, I'd be far more forgiving, but as is? It's offering me absolutely nothing: it's poorly researched, it's poorly structured, it's poorly written, it's poorly copy-edited, and it shits on things I like seemingly just for clicks. I'm done giving clicks.

I am deeply sympathetic to the pressures facing digital journalism and media and the arts in general; as someone who is fortunate enough not to personally face those pressures and has the income to be a patron, I would love to help in my small way (and I do, at least, financially support a number of the AP shows I love). But the quality of some of this journalism is truly so bad that I can't bring myself to support the institutions putting it out; it's "dead dove do not eat" until such time as someone whose analysis and opinions I do trust cites them (or, perhaps, until there is a sea change of lead editorship). I know that this won't help the crunch, and may make it worse, but I just can't because the quality is so poor. I don't have a good solution to how to write about something that takes a lot of time to watch and process and about which the articles pay very little in return, but the current strategy of bouncing between uninformed provocateur and utter sycophant depending on the show and creators; of drooling over such surface features as shiny production and falsely claiming everything is "groundbreaking" while getting the most basic facts wrong has driven me away.

#rowzeoli #i'm leaving this rebloggable but other people...try to be respectful i will turn off reblogs if need be. #long post

[citrineaura]

The Homewarming audio reveals and exposes a lot about the neighbors characters. [ANALYSIS]

1.) First things first; The neighbors can interact with the narrator. But considering puppet shows usually involve the puppets interacting with the narrator, (like Sesame Street for example) I don't know if that's a big deal or not.

2.) BARNABY: (Barnaby pipes up at the Narrator.) Hey, keep it down up there! Some of us are tryin’ to do some serious cerebratin’ down here!

^As above, so below reference again.

3.) JULIE: (Whispered.) Frank’s right… Homewarming is about making sure your house is nice, cozy, and toasty. Right before I go to sleep for a very long time, I make a big nest from my bed just like I used to do back home when I was small- A lot of pillows and blankets and leaves and sticks…

^Her background when she used to live in a cave.

4.) HOWDY: Advice?! …You know I don’t got any’a that for sale, Barn! Not unless it’s to buy, buy, buy-!

^Hmmm, consumerism is what he's advocating.

5.) HOWDY: Frank?! (Howdy Scoffs loudly)

^So far, Frank is wary of Wally, Sally is blatantly disrespectful to Eddie, and now we see Howdy possibly doesn't think of Frank as a close neighbor. What's with all the animosity?

6.) HOWDY: That’s right! Trinkets even! It’s about what you give to other folks! The bigger, the shinier, and the more expensive the better! It’s about the razzle and dazzle! Go on, Barn, tell ‘em!

^We see here that Howdy is materialistic- which is odd considering he only asks for a joke in exhange for his services but then we get...this side of him.

7.) Frank said Homewarming is just a home that's warm, Howdy said it was gifts for Home. Sally says Homewarming is about the ambience, decor, and experience. Poppy says it's for dishes.

^Frank is logical- too literal, Howdy is materialistic, Sally enjoys the spotlight, and Poppy is a foodie.

8.) Wally even tossed the slice of poppy-seed ham into the flames and listened for a sound of approval

^Although it's revealed Home preferred the company of Wally and Barnaby instead of all the gifts in the end, this one specific action Wally did seemed oddly...sacrifical. Like offering food to a higher being.

I still don't think Home is an antagonist, personally. My money is still on Playfellow Workshop.

9.) WALLY: (He sounds frustrated and confused.) …How can that be.

^Apparently, Barnaby couldn't hear it but Wally's voice gets distorted when overwhelmed, just like it did when he tried speaking to YOU or...the Question-Answerer.

10.) AND! Eddie was never mentioned, not once, in this audio- which makes me think this is in correlation to the Wishbook audio recording where "Santa Claus" fails to talk about Eddie, and only Eddie.

#welcome home #fyp #barnaby b beagle #eddie dear #frank frankly #home #howdy pillar #julie joyful #sally starlet #wally darling #poppy patridge #wally darling analysis #welcome home update #welcome home homewarming #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #analysis #character analysis

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Pt. 2)

PART 1 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con/non-con, non consensual touching, somnophilia, Brahms is basically in heat

word count: 1,9k.

author's notes: I had to cut this part because it was getting too long and I wanted to stay in the 1k words limit... So... Part 3 👀??? Lmk

Brahms had no idea how much time had passed. All he knew was that it had felt like ages—long,  torturous ages—until he considered it safe to leave his hiding place. His breathing was still ragged as he carefully stepped into your room, his erection pulsing insistently in his pants, aching with every step he took towards your bed.

There you were, sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence, oblivious to the tumult of emotions you had stirred up within him. He had never seen you pleasuring yourself before. Did you touch yourself thinking of him? Envisioning a “real boy” keeping you company? His erection twitched at the thought. Oh, he could have helped you. He could have given you what you needed, if only...

You stirred in your sleep and he froze, holding his breath for a few moments.

Since your arrival, he had spent many a night standing in the darkness of your room, watching over you, hypnotised by your beauty and the soft cadence of your breathing. 

This time however was different. He could clearly feel it. The agonising aching in his pants was proof of that. 

Brahms had never allowed himself to get so close to you when he needed to tend to his own needs. He didn't trust himself. He didn’t trust what his twisted and perverted mind could come up with as obfuscated by an insatiable desire as it was; an intense yearning that he found himself able to suppress less and less each day, the more he watched you, listened to you, longed for you...

He didn't even know why he had entered your room. He'd simply opened the secret passage in the walls and moved towards you, drawn like a moth to a light source. 

He'd tried to crawl back inside the walls, to touch himself and cry your name as loudly as he was capable of, certain that you wouldn't be able to hear him, just like every other time he'd jerked off at the notion of you. He had attempted to ignore what he had just witnessed by leaving you alone... but he couldn't. His body refused to obey. It seemed as if you had enchanted him, as if your body was calling out to him, luring him in... 

Your words kept on echoing within his mind, your wish lulling him like a chant, instilling hope in his whole being, pulling the strings of his flesh like a master puppeteer.

You wanted Brahms to be real. He could grant your wish. He sought to grant your wish and make you happy.

You shifted position once more, this time lying on your back. The sheets slid slightly away from your body, exposing a portion of your torso and highlighting the curves of your breasts.

Brahms inhaled sharply through his nose. His gaze swept over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed form and what he could glimpse of the rest. As he swallowed drily, his Adam's apple bobbed hard in his throat. He could feel his resolve waver, his will crack. 

He could do anything to you. Anything his messed-up mind would push him to do. He could take anything that he wanted from you. Everything he'd ever craved. You were so beautiful... so vulnerable... lying there at his complete disposal…

The darkness would be the only witness. 

His feet moved by themselves, his hand trembling as it reached out to you. When the tips of his fingers brushed over the bare skin of your shoulder, he shuddered. It was as delicate to the touch as velvet, even softer than he had anticipated.

He leaned in closer, his mask nearly touching the top of your head, as he took a short sniff of your scent and moaned in delight. His erection throbbed at the familiarity. How many times had he reached his release point, sniffing the garments he'd stolen from you? However, breathing it in directly from your skin was hundreds of times better.

His fingers caressed your hair, then trailed the outline of your arm, slowly working his way down till he met the hem of the covers.

His gaze diverted to your face. You were sleeping so soundly. It seemed unlikely you would be waking up anytime soon.

His fingers didn't shake any more as they carefully pulled the blankets down, revealing your upper body. 

Brahms felt his heart leap and pound wildly, as if it was ready to burst his chest open. Yet the pain in his pants was far worse. It urged him to take action .

He clasped his hand around your wrist and pulled it toward his pants. His mask barely concealed the whine he let out once your palm made contact with his bulge. His entire body trembled with overwhelming desire. 

It felt like a sin. Something he would be chastised for. He should have been put off by the mere thought of it, yet this only made him more eager. More excited to let his perversions finally take the reigns. He couldn’t hold back any longer. 

The bed creaked slightly when he climbed onto it and onto you, encasing your legs between his. He leaned down and inhaled your enticing scent as he ran his nose along your neck and down your collarbone. His hands moved to your chest attracted to your body like magnets, palms closing around your breasts, groping the soft flesh from above the thin fabric of the nightgown you were wearing.

The cool touch of his porcelain mask travelling down your skin made you stir slightly in your sleep, your neck craning to the side allowing him more room, as if you were inviting him to keep probing your skin. He ripped the mask off his face with a grunt and dug in, lapping at your neck with hardly contained hunger. He heard you hum quietly in response and took it as a sign of approval. As his lips trailed on the surface of your skin, he travelled downward, slipping his fingers underneath the neckline of your robe and peeling it down. The sight of your exposed bosom heightened his burning desire, causing his erection to twitch unrelentingly. 

He couldn't help but kiss your breast, his lips lingering on your delicate flesh, wrapping around the sensitive tip. He moaned in pleasure, his hips jerking forward again, pressing against your body.

His careless movements caused you to hum louder and move again in your sleep, sluggishly kicking your legs. As a result, the covers fell further away from you, revealing your thighs. Your robe had rolled up in the process, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

Brahms stared down in awe at your figure, barely managing to hold back the guttural cries that threatened to spill from his mouth and startle you awake. He felt lured in by the sight of your thighs and in an instant his hands were on you again, fingers digging in your tender flesh. 

"Oh, my Y/N." His voice cracked with unbearable yearning as he moaned your name.

"Mmmh-?" 

He could hear you but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to wake you up, or maybe he didn't care anymore. He was too caught up in his heat-filled mind to bother worrying about anything else. 

He dipped, pressing his lips on your knee, and climbed up in a frenzy, leaving a wet trail of kisses and nibbles on your skin.

He frantically pulled your nightgown up past your belly, without ever taking his lips off of you. The moment your panties came into view, a sharp shiver coursed through his whole body, his eyes widened in hunger and he started salivating. Without delay he bent down again, pressing his nose against your heat to catch a whiff of your scent; your heady sweetness only made him more desperate, a whimper falling from his parted lips. Did you taste just as sweet? Oh, he was dying to find out.

You mumbled something incomprehensible while you wriggled under his persistent touch upon your body. And so you shifted again, turning to lay down on your stomach, unconsciously preventing him from reaching his desired destination. 

When you turned, Brahms felt a slight pushback, a grumble of discontent escaping his mouth, but it only took him a second to draw back in, urged by a primal need.

His gaze flickered to your bottom now in plain sight, his breath caught in his throat as he noted a wet spot right in the center of the cloth covering your heat. His hand moved as if it had its own mind, his fingers trailing over the damp spot before in a swift and impatient motion he pulled your panties to the side. He gasped as he looked down at your exposed folds, gulping at the way they glistened with your fluids.

He could not endure it any longer... He needed you... He yearned to feel his cock buried deep inside you... He'd fantasised about it so many times...  And now he was so close to actually making it happen... 

His body was a bundle of tensed nerves. He couldn't understand what was happening but everything ached and he knew you were the cause. Just like he knew you were the only one who could relieve him from this torture.

He'd never experienced such fierce emotions before. He had absolutely no control over them.

Brahms let out a sigh of relief as he unbuttoned his trousers, leaving more room for his swollen erection. His eyes fluttered closed in response, but only for a fraction of a second, unwilling to look away from the arousing sight of his fingers stroking your pussy, coaxing in your moisture and spreading your folds apart. 

His breathing was so ragged, it echoed through the old walls of your room. The only other audible sound was that squelch he caused by rubbing your labia, which only became more prominent the moment he buried his fingers inside you and started to move them in and out in a leisurely motion.

He had never touched a woman before. In the past, he had caught some of his previous nannies touching themselves; he saw what they were doing, how and where they lingered the most with their fingers but… he had never had the occasion to do it himself. Those women had turned out to be awful. They had disrespected the doll and by extension him. They were undeserving… But you… Oh, you deserved this and more… Yes. Yes. You deserved him.

A moan escaped your lips, and he felt you stirring more than you had before.

With a jolt of fear mixed with excitement he sensed you were about to turn and immediately reached over for his mask, securing it back on his face. With his other hand he pressed down on your spine to pin you on the mattress and prevent you from moving. 

"Mmmmh? W-what…" your voice was barely audible, your words slurred by your sleepy state.

He should have left you there, still half-asleep. He should have stopped right then and there. Made you believe that whatever you had felt that night had merely been part of a dream. He should have holed up in his walls and kept himself hidden for a little while longer before showing himself to you… before giving you what you deserved… and taking from you what he deserved… 

He should have been a good boy… 

But he couldn’t. 

Oh, no he couldn’t. He had gone too far, it was impossible for him to stop.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[I'm almost certain I will indeed write a third and final part for this but please let me know if you would actually like to read it! 🌹]

[Also, consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or buying me a ☕ if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

Tags: @shondlenoodle @lonely-girl2423 @mellsfern @inlovewithquestionablecharacters @dij-ology @things-you-cant-say-tomorrow-day

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire smut #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms the doll #Brahms Heelshire fanfic #slashers #slasher fandom #Slashers community #slasher x reader #slasher smut #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #my writing

[hyperfixiation-station]

Hi!!

I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕

I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....

Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....

Happy Writing 💝

Guilt-Tripped

CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Part 2, Part 3 Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.

WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3

Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.

From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)

You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.

You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.

Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.

And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)

The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison. 

You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp. 

And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five? 

You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.

Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.

A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.

You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.

You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes. 

Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application. 

You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them. 

Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.

You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out. 

It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try. 

It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group. 

As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.

Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time. 

Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke. 

It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you. 

And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.

His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa. 

You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses. 

It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends. 

So of course everything had to go downhill from there.

End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3

#hehehehe #sorry for how long it took #i am so tired lmao #i don't even know if this stuff makes sense #cod fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #angst #no beta we die like men #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #call of duty #simon riley x reader #sorry i disappeared #honestly don't know what i'm doing #but whatever #kate laswell #black widow #marvel

[generalsmemories]

HELLOOO FRIEND :DD I just wanted to say that i really like your stories :33 So, can i request a Jing Yuan x reader where they meet in the past? Like Jing Yuan just accidenly bummed into Reader while walking/shopping?

Sorry if it doesn't make sense Also can i be a Hachimi Anon?

A voice unheard

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: If you're given the chance to meet someone you thought you wouldn't meet again, what would you tell them?

✧ contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, sort of an open ending, idk what to even call their relationship, almost lovers to strangers?? mentions of other characters, namely: trailblazer (gn) and herta | word count: 2.3k (i don't know how.)

✧ a/n: i do admit i pondered a bit on this. it may not be what you had hoped but i hope it was still to your liking! also you can of course be hachimi anon so welcome welcome! also this idea popped up after listening to jjk's season 2 opening "ao no sumika" just as a lil fun fact if ya want some more suffering

✧ note: this drabble is mostly written through Jing Yuan's pov, so the sentences written in italics are jing yuan's thoughts!

"Do you have any regrets, general?" Jing Yuan blinked in surprise, the usual smile he sports on his lips slipping a tiny bit before directing his gaze down towards the trailblazer who curiously looked up at him, patiently waiting for an answer, "Why the sudden interest?" he asks instead.

He doesn't get an answer immediately, but he can tell that the trailblazer before him is witholding some information with how their eyes dart back and forth instead of facing him directly. When they peek once again over to Jing Yuan and sees that he's still staring down at them, they let out a sigh before looking ahead once again, "There's this one member of the Genius Society..." they start. which makes Jing Yuan more confused than before.

"... Do I assume that this member of the Genius Society wants to use me as some sort of guinea pig?" he asks outright, the trailblazer once again losing any ounce of confidence they had just gathered to say that one sentence, turning around while scrambling for words, "I did offer that I could do it again! I mean I already do her Simulated Universe testing, but when I offered she just stared at me with such a dead look! And then she told me I would have nothing to give her because I don't have enough memories-"

Oh, so that's what it's about.

The proposal seemed intriguing enough, "Why not? It would make for quite an enjoyable day, seeing that there's not a lot to do today. What do you need to know? I would have to make you aware I'm not able to leave the Luofu in it's entirety, so making the trip to this members abode would not be feasible at this time," Jing Yuan huffs out with a laugh, the trailblazer merely shaking their head, "No, she gave me one of her puppets to bring with me on the express if she ever wanted to do some testing."

"... Gave you one of her puppets?"

"It's a long story, general. But she is already waiting for you by the express, if you would have the time to make the trip to Cloudford for a few hours at most?"

Which is how Jing Yuan finds himself strapped to a bunch of wires and holding a peculiar looking helmet with even more wires attatched on the outside. Glancing towards the side, he can see a smaller person beside the trailblazer, her obvious ball-joints fully on display - he assumes that this person was the rather... "Eccentric" Genius Society member the trailblazer was referring to.

"... So you're the general of the Luofu, I had assumed you would be far older appearance wise," Jing Yuan merely gives her a cheeky grin and a tilt of his head, "Anyway, I wanted to see if I could perfectly replicate a certain memory that's buried deep down within your brain with just a few important keypoints from the recipient within the Simulated Universe. Of course we could've had a broader scope if the trailblazer had just dragged you to my space station, but alas," she says, gesturing for Jing Yuan to put on the helmet before nodding towards the bed, "We're only limited to one particular strong memory. So general, what's your biggest regret?"

"Ms. Herta, I would have a lot of memories being that I've lived for this long, no?"

"Which is why I'm telling you to think of one of your biggest ones, every human has tons of regrets - you just happen to have way more than the average which makes you a perfect candidate."

His attempt on making a lighthearted joke was quickly shot down. However now that he's being forced to think over all the people he's had to let go of during his life, he finds himself in quite a pickle.

But somehow, there's still one foggy memory that yet seems so clear to him.

"... There's one individual who I would want to talk to again. If I remember correctly, the day I met them again after centuries apart was nothing more than half a day at most. But I wasn't aware that meeting would also be the last day," he starts, about to continue before Herta raises her hand to stop him.

"That's plenty already. I'm now going to transfer your consciousness to small pocket reality where that exact memory happened. You just do whatever you want once you're in there - any data is data after all."

The artifical sun seems somehow brighter than it usually is when Jing Yuan opens his eyes again. When he finally gathers himself and starts to look around he realizes that he finds himself at Starwatcher Avenue overlooking the street from a higher spot - the familiar yells of street vendors and laughter of passing families or merchants clear in his ears.

Everything seemed so real that it was quite honestly terrifying.

The people greeting him with a smile or a bow when he descended down towards the street, the Cloud Knight giving him a salute and even to the finches landing on his shoulder or head.

If he hadn't known any better, he would've genuinely thought that he was for once experiencing quite a pleasant dream where the Luofu wasn't dealing with the problem of a stellaron.

"Does the newly appointed general really have time to laze around the Avenue like this?" he immediately stiffens up upon hearing that voice. A voice he was sure he had already forgotten what truly sounded like , but yet when he heard it again he knew he would never be able to forget such a lovely voice.

If he didn't knew any better, he would've thought that fate was toying with him by giving him such a nice start only to crush him completely.

"... Jing Yuan?" you call out once again, a bit more nervously since the general before you didn't even turn around to address you.

Ah, if I remember correctly I did immediately turn around when they first called out.

So he takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds before he lets it out and turns around. And the moment he does he's awestruck.

How in the world was Ms. Herta able to recreate your whole appearance to such a degree? Granted she probably took the little information he had provided and done something, but to be able to fabricate your apperance, behaviour and manner of speech in such a short time?

Jing Yuan doesn't know what he should be feeling.

"I thought a busy ranger like yourselves would be far too occupied to take the time to talk to a general, but here you are as well," he jokes back, hoping that you can't tell that his smile is a bit more wobbly than usual.

He forgot how captivating you looked back then.

"Please, I have time to sit down and chat with an old friend, don't I?" you joke, gesturing him closer to you as you sat down at one of the many cafés the Avenue has to offer, "And I bet you also have time seeing that you took upon the offer to sit down and have a few drinks," you added on with a gleeful smile.

He also forgot how easy it was for you to make him feel at ease - even after centuries apart.

[And exactly what part of this memory is your biggest regret, general? It seems like you're having the time of your life here.]

A sudden textbox appearing right before his eyes made Jing Yuan's eyes widen, the general blinking owlishly at it in amazement. Your own eyebrows raise at his rather surprised face, tilting your head with a frown, "You're acting unusually weird today, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. I might've had too much work lately for a proper nap," he lies effortlessely - a trait he found that he would habitually do centuries later.

[Oh, don't worry, you can just answer. I'll just make them forget that you answer me the moment you do.]

Jing Yuan sighs, "I mentioned that this would be the last time I would meet them, right? They're a part of the galaxy rangers. We've drifted apart when I got appointed general and they found a chance to join shortly after. If I remember, this would be the first time and last time in over a decade we meet again."

[... Ahh, I see now.]

He's sure that Herta understood what that meant, being that she was part of the same society as the alleged perpretator.

So Jing Yuan decides to omit the details on how much closer the two of you actually were. The night late banters while overlooking the same avenue you were currently seated in, the countless sparring matches that always "coincidentally" ended with either one of you on top of the other in a fit of laughter (Ignoring the fact that his arms are 90% of the time wrapped around you in a vice grip during these moments).

He excludes the joyous moments you had spent with him and his other close friends. How your fingers twirled around his longer strands and bringing them to your lips with a smile, or when you lightly squeezed back when he entertwined your hands together when the two of you decided to slip out of a rather large gathering after a succesful expedition.

He omits the fact that you're both currently wearing (and in his case still wearing till this day) the accessories the two of you had previously gifted each other. He can faintly see the necklace you have tucked beneath your shirt, and he's aware that your gaze is on the tassel he has attatched to one of his belts.

It was the last time he would see you after all. And yet, even with this knowledge he has now - he still finds himself doing the same mistake he did all those centuries ago.

He's still quiet. He's still dead silent even when he knows what kind of fate awaits you when you rise up from that chair before him and continue your initial plan for the day.

You let out a quiet laugh, perhaps mistaking his quietness as awkwardness as you start to stand up in your chair, "I can't take more of the generals' time with my selfish request, so I should probably go and gather what I was originally supposed to get," you inform whilst rising from your chair. Meanwhile Jing Yuan was rooted in his spot, looking down at his teacup without answering you. He's aware that your gaze is on him.

And yet he doesn't dare to look up to make eye contact, just like back then when this was all not a simulation. Instead choosing to swivel the contens inside the cup he was gripping.

He pauses in his movements, blinking as realization slowly dawns down on him.

That's right, this is a simulation. What has happened has already happened, I can't change that.

"Ms. Herta. If I were to do something else than what I had originally done, how much of the response back would be genuine?" he whispers lowly, he can tell that you're starting to move away.

"... Well, it was nice meeting you again, Jing Yuan."

[90%. This is all a code, yes. But I can assure you that whatever response they give you now would mimic exactly what they would've initially responded happened back then if were you to say what you're about to say instead.]

Jing Yuan didn't know he could add more to this regret than what had already transpired. But there it was, a new regret on this memory served to him on a silver platter.

"... Wait, [Name]," he calls out as he gets up from the chair, the screech it makes against the pavement being loud enough for you to turn around to face him with wide eyes.

And he's stunned. In the past, he had stayed rooted in his place and thus not even seen your back as you walked away from him. He knew your voice was a bit wobbly back then, but now he's properly staring at you and taking in more of your appearance. Your reddened eyes and slightly agape mouth, slightly swollen from how you most likely bit them to reduce any noise.

He finds himself suddenly unable to let his voice out.

"... If we were to not meet again at all after this," he finally utters after a while, trying his best to ignore the urge to get closer to you. Instead he sucks in a deep breath before giving you the same easy-going smile he's gotten used to wearing at all times. The starting sentence makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your body fully to properly face him while awaiting his next words, "... What would you do?" he asks in the end, staring as your eyes go from a widened state to gazing at him softly.

"I would tell that I loved you," you answer immediately.

Now it's Jing Yuan's eyes to widen.

"And then I would cease to exist sometime in the future without being able to see you again, the end," you add whilst turning around again so your back was facing him.

"Was that a joke?"

"...Unfortunately not."

You still don't turn around, but you're rooted in your spot for a few minutes - as if giving him a chance to do something, anything.

And it's at this moment that Jing Yuan comes to the realization that he's no good with emotions. He knows he's opening his mouth, but he's also aware that they keep closing too. The words die at the tip of his tongue, and his eyes are still staring at your back as you start to move further away from him.

He comes back to his senses far too late, only able to walk a few steps while reaching out a hand, "We'll meet again, right...?" he cries out, although he's fully aware you can no longer hear him.

[Well I got what I wanted. Jing Yuan I'll bring you back now.]

Jing Yuan can feel his consciousness getting dragged away from the simulated scene before he can answer. But just before his vision completely blackens, he can see you turn around while raising your arms up, seemingly waving at him - he can make out your smile as you open your mouth.

"Goodbye."

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #x reader #reader insert

[cenorii]

In 2021, dirty secrets about the use of bioweapons are revealed inside BSAA + there are direct hints in Umbrella Corps that Wesker is alive. I just combine the two puzzle pieces together in my head. So let's look at another interesting post-2009 scenario.

AU - ELEGY OF FREE RADICALS

Chris was once careless about eliminating Wesker. Knowing his nature, he still didn't check Wesker's presumed place of death properly. Relying on his own luck, Chris left the place of battle and never returned there. But he had to go back. It has become his mistake.

Chris reported the scene of the victory to the BSAA. Rotten BSAA could have used that data in any way they wanted. Like going back there and checking out the volcano. They could have indicated on the documents that they were headed to clear the area of the remnants of Uroboros, but in fact to search for Wesker's remains to get rich off the sale and study of his unique biomaterial. But what they didn't expect was to find him alive. Badly injured, helpless, but somehow alive.

Taking advantage of the weakness of the still living organism, he was taken to the secret laboratory of the headquarters. Now Wesker could be under the supervision of BSAA scientists for a very long time. He's much more useful alive than dead. His knowledge, skills, all of it could be utilized. And it was also possible to conduct endless experiments on his unusual body... Testing the limits of his abilities, testing various poisons, looking at the lethality of their new weapons, and etc. He was once again a puppet, as he had once been in Spencer's hands, from which he had miraculously escaped.

The BSAA kept Wesker's abilities under strict control, he was trivially stripped of any PG67A/W injections, replaced with an alternative that was only necessary for his body to regenerate damage after the battle in the volcano, but didn't provide any additional benefits. So he would remain weak but healthy.

Another remedy was also applied to him, eliminating the consequences of merging with the Uroboros, which modified his body in a volcano. It was discovered in 2011, after the events of Revelations 2. It was rude to call it just a serum, it was something more, because it did not remove the virus itself from the body, but brought it into a more stable form, allowing Wesker to take his ordinary appearance. With him, in this form, it became easier for employees to work.

The BSAA restored Wesker, stripped of his strength, any dignity, as well as his freedom. He was bedridden for several years and various weapons were tested on him, then recorded how his body reacted and at what rate it recovered. An immobilized lab rat, a deserved punishment for someone like him? Perhaps. It was thanks to his "sacrifice" that the anti-regeneration weapon was invented, which had once come in handy for Chris in the battle against Mold.

Just think… how many things could the BSAA have invented using the infinite resources of Wesker's body? He was terrified of these thoughts. Terror at the realization that he had no chance of escape, that he was trapped here forever, that he would continue to have his organs taken out of him and be forced into endless pain. He reflected that he hadn't actually managed to do so many contradictory things to deserve eternal torment. And it's better to let him die than to endure this hell. But his own body played a cruel joke without dying. It was an expert on regeneration. His pride was trampled when he begged for death.

BSAA absolutely did not spend any painkillers and sleeping pills on Wesker, absolutely all experiments were carried out when he was conscious. They had already spent a lot of money on him during his recovery, it was a waste to spend even more on someone who could repair any of his damage.

Pain and terror haunted him for six years. He cursed what he used to idolize in himself.

And then he was forced to work for them. In 6 years he had grown accustomed to the constant pain and had already learned to see himself as nothing, sending his consciousness into free floating. Deep in his thoughts, he created a place where he learned to ignore the endless physical torment. But when he was put on his feet and pulled out of this place… Wesker was even more devastated.

It was unusual for him to suddenly return to normal work, all this created a mess in his head, reality seemed to be nonsense. The usual paperwork after hell? Are you kidding me?!

Morally, he was destroyed. His psyche was severely damaged. Wesker from the "torture room" was locked in a cell that looked like a combination of a room and a laboratory. For fear of being put back on the operating table again, he dutifully began to work and develop various things that BSAA would use in the future. But it wasn't life either. Weakened body, lack of abilities... he wanted to die, but he couldn't afford it, because he was practically immortal. Although, even if he used a weapon that stops regeneration on himself... he still wouldn't kill himself.

«Not here»

«Not like this»

At times he thought he was balancing on the fine line between normalcy and insanity. He saw people at best once every two weeks who came to check on his work and were not at all talkative. Wesker had always been convinced he didn't need company, but 12 years without socializing had made him question his beliefs.

Once a month he was provided with food, and then carelessly, because he didn't need food. His body, experiencing hunger, could devour itself and regenerate immediately.

The only reason he was given a room and released from the operating table was because the organization wanted to see what he could offer them. Of course, they didn't stop studying his unusual body and conducting experiments, but Wesker was already in charge of the process himself. Independently amputated his limbs and so on. Only closer to 2019 were these experiments stopped, because they had extracted all possible benefits from his body.

Wesker remotely, horrified, realized that thanks to his body he would live much longer than the average person, if not forever. Which led him to believe that he would be kept in this cage for centuries. BSAA would close, others would take their place, find him, torture him again. And so on in a circle, for all eternity, as long as human society and greed existed. This had to end... but how? A plan was needed, a complex one that could not be unraveled.

His life and existence was a BSAA mystery from 2009-2021. For 12 long years he was not allowed out of the walls of this cell.

Of course he wanted to escape, he had many unrealistic thoughts in his head about it. He was also interested in meeting Chris, aged, changed. To see his reaction, genuine shock rather than the anger he'd reacted to Wesker's earlier 'resurrections'. Is Chris even still alive today? What year is it now?

But this life couldn't go on forever, the BSAA was cracking at the seams. In 2021 it was revealed that they were using B.O.W. soldiers, something Chris couldn't ignore. So he headed over to European headquarters to deal with it - right where his nemesis was located, a complete headache. Chris couldn't accept that his organization, which was fighting biological weapons, would use them. It didn't fit in his head. He had long ago stopped trusting the BSAA, but this was the last straw.

Arriving there, Chris did not expect to meet someone in the basement laboratories whom he had buried a long time ago.

What was he going to do with him? Shoot him in the head without any thought? That would have been logical and in Redfield's character, but over the years he'd stopped being a complete hothead, learned to think first and then act. Gained a little equanimity.

It will turn out that it was Wesker who was involved in the creation of the B.O.W. in BSAA. Especially since these soldiers are improved clones of Chris himself. Who else could have come up with such an idea? Only to a man who thought Chris was "one of his best men".

For the past 6 years, Wesker has been forced to be an advisor to BSAA, sharing all the knowledge and ideas. He might have been able to pull it all off, if only to get back at that organization, turning Chris' anger on it, and turning his attention to himself at the same time. After all, only this "one of his best men" was the only one who could save him. Yes, Wesker was pathetic. He felt he wasn't even worthy of his former name, being so pathetic as to enlist the help of his enemy. But it was the only option. There was no more talk of pride.

However, it didn't matter now, Chris had come here to punish the founders, so their prisoner, their chief counselor, might prove to be the best informant. And an ally.

Natural intuition made Chris believe his former enemy, the biggest manipulator of them all. As if he was definitely not lying now, because he was in such a big asshole that he couldn't let his words sound unconvincing. Earlier, Chris would have easily recognized his lies, but not now. Right now, completely honest and dull eyes were looking at him from beneath translucent glasses. So damn pitiful that Chris automatically assumed the role of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress.

Chris was quickly combine the information together in his head: the situation, the physique, the setting... His opponent had been held hostage by his own ambition, it couldn't help but bring a smile to Redfield's face. But he hid it in his thoughts, because he deemed it inappropriate once he read Wesker's imprisonment papers. Chris had some free time to devote to the situation.

He read about what had been done to Wesker. About all the torture. And Redfield clutched his head, when he got to the description of his ammunition that he'd used against Mold a couple years ago. He was terrified that this weapon had been created in such a gruesome way... through the suffering of his enemy, who, even considering all his guilt, didn't deserve all this. Chris felt that Wesker should have died and rid the world of himself rather than suffer endlessly. Even for him, he thought it was inhumane.

The first thing Wesker said to Chris was: - Now you've taken on the role of captain of the «alpha» too. This jabbed Chris slightly, but he noticed how the hostage said it without malice. Redfield involuntarily remembered 1998, the mansion, the betrayal, the deaths of the Alpha and Bravo group...

The compartment Wesker was in was to him both an office and a laboratory, and a room. A kind of prison, which he could not leave on his own because of his weak physical condition. He was weakened by the daily injections putting his viruses inside his body to sleep.

Releasing him and examining him at arm's length, Chris made sure that in the state Wesker was in now, he posed no danger, just an ordinary disgust. He resembled only a pale copy of his former self.

The BSAA operative dragged him carelessly behind him like some sack of garbage, concerned only with keeping the information in his head intact. But in his mind Chris still held images of what the BSAA bastards were doing here to Wesker. He didn't want to feel sorry for him, but he couldn't control it, Redfield had never been heartless. Initially he had only cared about information, but it wasn't long before he didn't even notice how protective he had become of him. As if a friend, which in truth, he never was. His captive's behavior was different from what Chris remembered. It was different, like a throwback to the past. Perhaps 12 years of imprisonment had had that effect on him.

He was docile, which wasn't surprising, since Wesker had been treated like an object by the organization, and the operating table had been a good teaching moment. Chris couldn't believe that after so many years of hell his former enemy's mind was still intact, that he hadn't lost his mind and was capable of dialog.

Time passed unnoticed during the proceedings with the BSAA about B.O.W., eventually the organization was destroyed and all its equipment, along with Chris's squad, transferred to TerraSave.

Chris during all of this had to sign Wesker into the Hound Wolf Squad as either a prisoner or an advisor. To keep him from getting shut down again, that was the deal. He helps them, they help him. Over time, he was getting back to normal. The food and good company had done their job.

However, Chris didn't know that his new ally hadn't lost all of his strength, and the ones he had were sleeping under the influence of the medicament. But time passed, the medicament slowly stopped working without new doses, and Wesker understood it perfectly well. And felt it. It didn't affect his appearance, so he could play his role for as long as he wanted. But was it a role? Sure he was portraying a courtesy that annoyed Chris to the point of nausea, but it was partially sincere. Having broken with his past at the fault of the BSAA, Wesker could only hope to find a new purpose. After all, as Spencer had raised him, there is no life without purpose.

Therefore, was it so necessary for him to betray Hound Wolf Squad? Would it be beneficial to him? Chris is a strong point. He has no doubt that if he kills Redfield - another will take his place, and will definitely get him into the basement wheel of samsara. So Wesker had no grand plans yet. After all, any of them would be doomed to failure as long as there was anyone in the world capable of resisting.

But Chris risked to give him a goal, which, however, called impossible - to become the best version of himself. To help the Hound Wolf Squad, to work with TerraSave, to use his knowledge for something other than endless failed experiments. Stop being Spencer's failed experiment. The only option Chris would give him a chance at.

Those words stuck in Wesker's head for a long time. Mentioning the old man was like a low blow. Chris knew where it hurt the most.

It had been several years since Wesker had joined Redfield's team. All that time he'd been hiding his abilities so as not to lose the fragile trust in his person. But the truth couldn't help but surface one day....

On one of the missions connected with B.O.W., the blade of an exploding helicopter blew off Wesker's head, and then another piece of debris cut his body in half.

But he didn't die.

Chris was enraged. With resentment, he felt cheated. What else could he have expected?

First, the black mass connected the body, restoring functionality to it, and then this silent carcass picked up the head. It was slow. It looked helpless and creepy. Chris's squad was on edge, but he ordered to wait. The black substance emerged from the base of the neck and attached the head to itself, then the calm expression on the reanimated head changed to horror. Was he in unbearable pain from the newly received oxygen? Or from the fusion of tendons?

When Wesker recovered, he couldn't at first think of a response to Chris' "explain yourself!"

Everyone's fragile trust collapsed, but not Redfield's, for he knew that if his former adversary had wanted to betray him, he would have betrayed him long ago, he wouldn't have let himself be so ridiculously exposed. Especially after all the torture he'd endured. Chris could understand why Wesker was hiding his powers. Redfield had stepped on the same rake of trust again, convincing himself that he had everything under control.

Wesker, ever since the prototype had merged with Uroboros in his body, had acquired a number of flaws, chief among them an unbearable sensitivity to pain. The only time he could not feel pain was when he was BSAA injected with force restraining drugs. But without them, all the disadvantages came out.

Whereas before he could recover from any wound without feeling anything but minor damage, now the pain was so obvious that every regeneration was accompanied by agony. Especially if it was a burn, for heat is a major weakness for Uroboros. The healing places on his body, after that helicopter situation, hurt like hell.

He was closer to human now than he had been before, and Chris seemed to realize that. That was why he hadn't killed him a second time, but had accepted him back into his squad. It was not only a gesture of goodwill, but also a precaution, a way to keep a dangerous object as close to him as possible so he wouldn't do anything.

How long will they have to cut off the heads of hydra in the face of the creators of bioweapons?

- Why do you trust me, Chris?

- I still believe that anyone can become the best version of themselves. We should prioritize fighting for the future to give someone a quiet life that you and I have been robbed of. I know about Project W. Together we can stop new organizations and prevent many tragedies like this from happening again. And you can help us, Wesker. BSAA took away your choice, but I'm giving it to you now.

Wesker at first couldn't find the words to respond, but after a moment he barely audibly whispered: "Thank you."

From a man who never thanked anyone, Chris was shocked to hear that. And he was proud of him. Had he forgiven him? No, his deeds were unforgivable. But Chris wasn't the kind of man who would turn his back on his one chance to make things right, to make things right on Earth, to save someone's life. In this truce, he sees a future that's bright for everyone.

#resident evil #chrisker #Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #AU #resident evil 5 #resident evil 8 #rebhfun

[lxkeeeee]

FORBIDDEN TECHNIQUE

—husband! scaramouche x male kitsune husband! reader

synopsis: his husband may be one the powerful figure in the fatui—both of them are, but scaramouche knows what could make his husband weak in the knees.

genre: mildly spicy, implies they had sex at the end.

notes: Anyways, to my male readers I am sorry for forgetting to feed you so here>:D

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧ ─────┈⊰᯽⊱

Indigo colored eyes stared at the figure Infront of him, an amused look on Scaramouche's face as he watched his husband's furrowed eyebrows as the male was reviewing his papers.

Scaramouche has been watching him pace back and forth across their shared bedroom, the same paper on his hand while occasionally rambling to him about how ridiculous it is. The Balladeer assumed his husband made a mistake on his paperwork or the organization gave him another set of paperwork to review.

Indigo eyes kept staring at the fox like ears constantly twitching as the kitsune muttered curses to himself and to the gods which the puppet found amusing.

Despite the kitsune's stressed out look, Scaramouche can't helped but admire his husband's body—the black and red hakama he wore fit him so well, a katana sheathed safely into his waist, truly fit to be his warrior.

Scaramouche just looked at the other male with fondness in his indigo colored eyes while the other male is too busy stressing over his paperwork.

“Like take a look at this love, Signora wants me to approve 1 billion mora budget for her! Like what the fuck, this woman I swear to celestia.” [M/n] mutters angrily, his fox tail briefly appearing out of thin air before immediately disappearing.

“Also why did Childe spent so much during his stay in Liyue?” The kitsune mutters to himself.

Scaramouche can just softly chuckle in the comfort of their shared bed before playfully rolling his eyes.

“That's what you get for agreeing to be the temporary treasurer. You only have yourself to blame.” Scaramouche says, his voice teasing and playful. The kitsune male immediately whipped his head into his direction and small annoyed huff left his lips before pouting at his husband.

“Because I thought the budget requests were reasonable but no, like Dottore for example. Why the actual fuck this man needs 2 billion mora?” [M/n] asked with an annoyed tone and Scaramouche could only agree, “Reject that.”

“Already did.” [M/n] answers before walking to his bedroom desk and placed the papers on the table, putting his hands up in a surrender position, “I give up, cuddle me right now.” he says and immediately walking back to their shared bed and jumped into the other male's arms—which Scaramouche gladly opened for him, “As you wish my darling.” he teasingly say.

Warmth, despite his cold puppet body, his husband never fails to share his warmth with him. It always makes him want to melt in his embrace.

Scaramouche rolled over to make him lie on top of his husband, their hands on each other's waists.

Scaramouche watched his husband's furrowed eyebrows slowly became relaxed and the annoyed look on his face was replaced with a calm and gentle one.

Scaramouche swept the hair that fell Infront of his husband's face and he can see how [m/n] immediately relaxes underneath his touch. Scaramouche cupped the males cheeks, both of their eyes half lidded as their face inches apart.

“What's taking you so long?” [m/n] asked, a slight annoyed tone in his voice making Scaramouche looked at him with a smirk, “What's the rush my love? Too eager for me?”

“You're annoying and an idiot.” [M/n] softly whined making the dark violet haired male chuckle sinisterly as he showed his hand where a gold band is placed on his ring finger.

“But I'm your idiot forever.”

The kitsune just facepalmed with the hand where his wedding ring is also located, Scaramouche immediately grabbed that hand and placed a kissed on [m/n]'s ring while looking at the [h/c] male with a smirk while doing so.

[M/n] could looked at his husband with widened eyes as a blush immediately covered his cheeks and ears, Scaramouche is enjoying this, to see his husband so flabbergasted underneath his touch. He glided his thumb over [m/n]'s lower lip and pulling it down gently.

[M/n] could look at him with anticipation, his paperwork worries vanishing in the air like a mist, unaware of the erratic beating of his heart—but Scaramouche is aware, Scaramouche is aware how fast [m/n]'s heart is beating, after all he is laying on top of him, their chest pressed against each other.

Scaramouche smirked before leaning down and making their lips met.

Soft and gentle kisses at the start, pulling away for a brief moment to let [m/n] before Scaramouche is back again kissing his husband to his content, slipping his tongue into [M/n]'s soft and plump lips.

Lips desperate to catch up with one another, tongues dancing against one another like a tango. The kitsune male's hand immediately found its way into Scaramouche's hair, tugging it and making the other male grunt in between kisses.

Scaramouche softly pulls away to let the other male breathe, amusement on his face to watch him pant heavily with flushed cheeks. His indigo eyes landed into the fox like ears that stood tall in alert and a playful smirk comes into his unfairly attractive face.

[M/n] could watch with annoyance on how stupidly attractive Scaramouche is, especially with the smirk on his face. Like how dare he seduce him like that.

Scaramouche just chuckled at the small pout his husband was giving him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before immediately diving back into a heated make out session.

Wet noises of their kisses filled the room, grunts on moans could also be heard.

Scaramouche smirked in between the kiss as his long slender hands found its way at the back of the fox like ears of his husband's and immediate scratched them.

Scaramouche felt the other male freeze before he felt him shiver and a loud moan escaping the said male's lips, “Aa-ah not the ears, the-they're sensitive.” [M/n] stutters out, his blush became a deeper shade of red, making the cheeky balladeer give him a teasing smirk as he once again rubbed the oh so sensitive fox ears.

Making soft whimpers and moans leave the [h/c] male's lips and oh how Scaramouche love listening to that sound.

The Balladeer's lips found his husband's neck, giving small kisses and love bites while his hand worked magic on the kitsune's ears.

“Ah-ah it's too much~!” he whines and Scaramouche just chuckles as he pressed a finger over the other male's Adams apple, feeling it bobbed up and down.

“Relax my love, we're just getting started.”

Then moans and whines can be heard during the night and along with the sound of bed creaking.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧ ─────┈⊰᯽⊱

a/n: this was inspired by the one ask in my inbox but it was for fem reader but I decided to use it for this scenario. I promise anon to include your req in the main story 🫰🫰🫰

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #lxkewrites #male reader #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche #husband scaramouche #lxke's husband scaramouche works #banner by cafekitsune

[seabirdtxt]

Event batch 3

all three of these were requested by the lovely @littlemistermedly 😊

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

"The ways that they love you" Spinoff of Glitch!AU but can be read as standalone. fluff and smut. everyone involved in this is AFAB yes even the puppets, he/him still used for all three of them though 1. Kabukimono | pillowfort building / frottage, clothed sex 2. Wanderer | falling asleep in class / sub!Wanderer, toy usage. reader wears a strap 3. Scaramouche | PWP, oral (reader receiving), brat!Scara for like 2 seconds

🔞 18+ below the cut!🔞 By clicking "Read More" you acknowledge the above tags/warnings and agree that you are both over 18 and accept responsibility for your own media consumption.

----- ⚘ -----

Kabukimono: Man on the Moon

The sweet puppet holds you gently, sitting with your back leaning against his front as the both of you are squished together by a mountain of pillows and blankets that were generously provided to you against your other roommates’ wills. The pillow fort you’d constructed with the pilfered cushions hide you and Kabukimono from the rest of the world, fitting you both into a little bubble of quiet intimacy.

His chest thrums with the vibrations of his voice box as he hums a little song in your ear, gently smoothing his hands up and down your arms and shoulders. 

As his song comes to an end, he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, sighing contentedly.

“That was a nice song, Kabu,” you tell him, putting your hands over his. “Where did you learn that?” 

“It’s a nursery rhyme that the aunties in Tatarasuna taught me when I watched the village children!” He smiles gently, chest warming as he closes his eyes and purrs at the memory. “I don’t remember the words anymore, but the tune always makes me feel better.” 

“Aww,” you coo, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. “That’s so cute, Kabu! You must’ve been the favourite of all the aunties.” 

“I- I wouldn’t go that far…” You can feel Kabukimono’s temperature rise again as he fights off the flustered expression he makes. You tilt your head back and look at him, catching a glimpse of his shaky smile. 

“I’m sure you had mobs of aunties offering you their sons’ and daughters’ hands in marriage,” you grin, poking his cheek as he pointedly looks away, covering his mouth with his hand. “Am I wrong? You’re so pretty, I just know everybody wanted a piece of this.” 

“Stop it! Now you’re just teasing me.”

You wriggle around so that you’re facing him, pressing down into his rumbling chest with your entire body. It’s a shame the puppet bodies don’t blush in the same way as humans, because you’re sure he would be beet red right now.

You lean in close and squish your cheek against his, nuzzling into the soft hair that frames his face. You begin to hum, doing your best to imitate the song, a little bit off-key and not quite as confident as Kabukimono’s version, but recognizable all the same. Kabu drops his hand from his face and his smile widens, a touch of softness easing the corners of his eyes.

“That was perfect,” he says to you quietly. “Just the same as I remember.”

 ---

“Okay, so, I read about this one in a book,” Kabukimono tells you, and you can’t help but be endeared by his excited nervousness. You and he have mostly undressed by this point, only left in your underwear, your other clothes long since discarded as you’d indulged Kabukimono’s growing curiosity. 

You let him manipulate you as he takes your legs and parts them, settling in the space between and pauses, eyes darting back and forth in a way that tells you he’s searching his memory for the next step.

“We can just keep doing what we usually do,” you tell him, using your heel to knock against his lower back. “It doesn’t have to be complicated or anything.”

“But I want to try other things!” Kabukimono protests. “How else am I supposed to expand on existing knowledge?”

“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” you let him manipulate you again, this time moving so he’s partially straddling you, slotting your legs together. Suddenly, you have a feeling you know where he’s taking this.

He drops his clothed crotch onto yours unceremoniously, face scrunched in concentration. For a second nothing happens, and he looks like he’s about to be incredibly disappointed, so you take a bit of initiative and cant your hips just a tad.

Kabu freezes and a cut-off squeak escapes his mouth as you grind your clit against his. You do it again, and his eyebrows climb into his bangs. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, rolling his own hips experimentally. A grin of delight comes over him as he comes to the realization.

You’re unprepared for how quickly he takes to it, bending toward you to roll your clothed cunts together, and you sink further into the pile of cushions from the force of it.

“This is great,” he gasps, wonder playing on his face. You laugh breathlessly and reach up to stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Ah- I can’t believe how good this feels, how good you feel.”

You briefly lament the distance between the two of you due to this position, wishing you could wrap him in your arms and eat his pleasure whole. He’s purring so loud that you can feel the vibration of it where your bodies connect. 

It doesn’t surprise you too much that Kabu comes first, his thighs tensing around yours as he soaks through both layers of underwear between you. He whines and bites back a sob as he continues to grind against you, overstimulating himself as he chases your peak. 

The wet friction of the cloth and the sight of him biting his lip to stifle the rest of his noises is what does it for you. You tumble headlong into your orgasm, and you feel him give a valiant twitch against you again.

You give in to your desires and pull him down into your embrace, and he follows along gladly. He collapses onto you, causing you both to exhale with the impact, and wraps his arms around your torso. He buries his face in your shoulder as you bring one hand up to stroke his hair.

“Is that what you were hoping for?” You ask him, your heartbeat racing as you come down from your high. He nods against you, cheerfully sucking a mark into your neck.

“Mhm,” he agrees wordlessly, and after a minute or so he props himself up on his elbows, his body never leaving yours. You hook your ankles over his, holding him in place.

He looks down at you, considering. “So there’s this other thing I read about…”

----- ⚘ -----

Wanderer: Pick up the receiver, I'll make you a believer

The lecture is so indescribably boring that you’ve begun doodling all over your notes, filling every empty space with little cats and plants and stick figures with swords.

Beside you, Wanderer rests his head in one hand, elbow resting on the desk, his other hand lazily flipping his pen. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, holding back a snort as your eyelids and your own slowly begin to droop. He glances around quickly, ensuring nobody else is looking in this direction, then reaches out to you with his mind.

It takes no effort at all to impress the subtle thought of taking a nap into your tired brain. Within moments, you’ve begun to slump over, eyes closed and breathing softly.

 Wanderer’s arm reaches around you and pulls you just enough so that you are leaning on him as you sleep. With his other hand, he takes your pen and puts it aside before it can leak all over your notes. Curiously, he peeks at your drawings.

Wanderer doesn’t laugh, but it’s a near thing. There's stick figures of himself, Kabukimono, and Scaramouche in little scratchy renditions of the trio’s daily mishaps. He didn’t realize Scaramouche ended up the most unfortunate of the three of them, having been the butt of the joke most often.

Taking his own pen, Wanderer decides to add a bit of embellishment to some of the doodles. Satisfied with his work, he sits back and listens to the rest of the lecture.

You wake up an hour later thanks to the cacophony of the lecture hall as students pack up their belongings, announcing the end of the lesson. You push off of your temporary pillow with a half-coherent noise, feeling the indent his clothes made on your cheek.

You grab your own notebook, intending to put it away as well, when you notice the new addition to your drawings, and you laugh loud enough to scare yourself fully awake.

Wanderer had drawn giant cartoon dicks onto your stick figures of him. 

“What,” Wanderer says, smirk audible in his voice. “You don’t like it? I think it suits me.” 

“You are SO lucky this wasn’t the notebook that we have to hand in to the professor,” you wag your finger at him playfully. “Do you know how much work it would be to recopy all of my notes into a fresh book?”

“Maybe don’t fall asleep somewhere where I can draw in it, then,” Wanderer counters, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. He takes your hand as you finish packing your own bag, and you begin the journey home together.

“Thanks for letting me nap, by the way,” you smile gratefully at him, swinging your clasped hands between you.

“No problem, you can just pay me back later,” Wanderer shrugs. You squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you want me to pay you back?” you ask, already not liking where this is going.

Wanderer’s smirk widens at your predictable reaction. “How about you top, tonight?”

“Nooo!” You wail in despair, dropping his hand like it’s on fire. You stomp ahead, and you can hear Wanderer’s cackles behind you. “This is why I never ask you for anything!”

“Come on, you always make me top, though,” Wanderer needles you in a sing-song voice as he jogs to catch up.

“You do that out of your own choice, bossy!”

 “Can’t you do it for one night?” He asks, giving you puppy eyes that you definitely don’t melt at.

“But I wanna be lazy…” You pout and cross your arms, denying him from taking your hand again. Instead, he puts his hands into the pockets of his shorts and nudges you with his shoulder.

“Should’ve thought of that before you took a nap,” he states simply. “Since you’re sooo well rested, now, I guess you have more energy than I do. Especially since I took all the lecture notes for today, and maybe I’ll share them with you if I’m in a good mood.”

You don’t drop your pout, but you do lean into him as the pair of you walk. 

“Fine, I guess,” you relent with a sigh, not really as disappointed as you’re pretending to be. “Can I use the purple toy?”

“Sure,” Wanderer leans over and gives you a quick peck to your cheek. “Whatever you want, babe.”

---

Whatever your hang ups with topping, it’s all worth it to see Wanderer shaking and moaning under you so prettily. With his elbows braced against the table, head resting on his forearms, the view of his toned back flexing with every movement you make against his sweet spot is incredible.

You run your fingertips over the fabric of your strap where it connects with the purple toy you chose, marveling at just how wet it is. You push into Wanderer again, grinding your own clit against the back of the textured material.

“Maybe you’re right,” you pant, smug as you pound into his greedy hole. “I should top you more often, this is awesome. Who knew you could get this loud?” 

Wanderer makes a valiant attempt to look over his shoulder and scowl at you, but another snap of your hips has him swallowing whatever snarky remark he was about to make at your expense. Another loud whine pulls from his throat, and he bites his own arm to stifle the rest.

You have no idea how many times you’ve made him cum, though you count at least twice based on the growing puddle beneath you. Maybe three. (Very, very distantly, you hope you don’t slip on the wet floor. You’re not sure you could take the embarrassment.)

Another full-body shudder runs through him, and one arm reaches behind himself to grab at your fingers where they’re holding his waist in a grip that would bruise if he were able to. With an airy laugh you bat his hand away. 

“What’s wrong? You asked for this.” You remind him, using both hands to pull him backward onto your toy. You hum lowly as the movement causes the base to rub against you, urging you closer to your own orgasm. 

“Ugh, if I’d known-” he cuts himself off with a reedy cry. You take pity on him, allowing him to slump onto the table. You press into him one more time, remaining still as he fights the overstimulation, twitching around the toy buried inside. “ Ah- if I’d known you’d be this into it, I would've made you do it a lot more.” 

“Sorry, did you say more?” Your smile turns devious as you pull out, to his weak protests, and push back in slowly, building your rhythm again. The squelching noises leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, if anyone were to walk by your room right now.

Wanderer thinks he might be in for a long night.

----- ⚘ -----

Scaramouche: Moment’s Silence

Out of the three of them, you would've expected Scaramouche to be the least tactile. As it turns out, you couldn’t be more wrong. He just doesn’t show it well. Or nicely.

During the day, and in front of anyone else, he remains the grouchy, taciturn puppet you’ve come to know and love. However, when the lights dim and everyone retreats to their respective rooms, his clingier side comes out to bother you.

Which is why you’ve been here for the past thirty minutes, splayed out on your back in the middle of your bed, trying to read one of the many books in your inventory, with the Balladeer on his stomach between your legs doing his utmost to distract you from getting into the plot.

Another jolt of pleasure shakes your concentration, and you lift the book to give a halfhearted glare at Scaramouche, who’s tongue still flicks lazily against you.

“Do you mind?” You huff, nudging him with your leg, to which he responds by grabbing your knee and pushing it back down roughly. “H- hey! If you’re not going to get on with it, can you at least let me finish reading?”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche snaps at you, baring his teeth irritably. “This isn’t about you.”

Despite his harsh demeanor, the next swipe of his tongue is heavy and languid, dragging up the cleft of your sex. You gasp and arch under his touch, and he takes advantage of the moment to slide his hands beneath your back, holding your hips to his face.

“I would say- ah- that you’re eager to please,” you tease him, reaching down to stroke his hair, fingers curling in his indigo locks. “But you always look like- hah- like you have a gun being held to your head when you do this.”

In retaliation, he gives a harsh suck to your swollen clit, quickly followed by him turning his head away (you have to hold back a whine at the loss of stimulation) to bite into the meat of your inner thigh. 

“Ouch! Why?!”

The glare Scaramouche gives you could freeze a hot spring.

 “In what universe would I do something like this if I didn’t want to?” He demands, pulling one of his hands out from beneath you to pinch your sensitive nub, rolling it between his pointer and thumb as you fight and fail to snap your legs closed around his head. 

Without waiting for a response, two of his fingers breach your entrance and slowly spread apart, baring your soft insides to his scrutiny. 

“Why shouldn’t I take advantage of everything you present to me?” He asks, tone reverent as he leans back down and his tongue delves into your cunt. You shiver at the feeling of him licking every slick crevasse, the noises that reach your ears causing you to flush with embarrassment. 

He groans into your skin as he feels you clench around his tongue, the vibrations causing you to squeal and thrash in his grasp. The sheets beneath you are positively soaked with your fluids and his saliva. He twists his fingers inside you just so, and you drop your book with a choked gasp. 

“You taste amazing, I can’t believe you think I don’t want this,” he mutters, his hot breath tickling the insides of your thighs. Your hand in his hair tightens, and you’re not sure if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.

“I… I…” 

Your lack of response seems to amuse him and he chuckles against your wet hole. He gently takes his fingers out and uses his slick-damp hand to hook behind your knee and push it up, opening you more to him.

“Such a good boy. Are you close?” He looks up at you through his lashes, licking a heavy stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking the twitching bud between his lips teasingly. “Cum for me, pretty boy. Show me how well I did.”

You’re unable to formulate words as he pushes you over the precipice, throwing your arms over your face as you cry out, hips jerking against his clever tongue. Never once have his eyes left your trembling form.

You’re panting like you’ve just run a marathon, still spasming with the aftershocks, when you feel Scaramouche crawling up the length of your body. You watch through your post-orgasm haze as he licks the mess from his lips and hand. 

“Is that it?” He teases, caging your head with his arms as he leans down, breathing into your space. “I thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’.”

Your brain is still in the process of rebooting, and he laughs mockingly at your fucked out expression. Your head falls back as you try to catch your breath, and you feel more than see him as he shucks his own shorts off, grabbing the headboard with both hands as he straddles your shoulders.

“Come on, where’s your manners?” He croons, voice hitching as your eyes finally come into focus, greeted by the sight of his own slick, fluttering hole. “I think you know how to say ‘thank you’.”

No need to be told twice. Your hands come up to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the divots at his hips. You watch with rapture as his expression changes as you slowly pull him down to your mouth.

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin kabukimono #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #genshin self aware au #self aware genshin #sagau #sagau x reader #scaramouche smut #seabird.txt #birdy.thanks #birdy.afterdark #all three of the section titles are songs btw give em a listen if you wanna

[honesttoglob]

Ok so few thoughts on the Season 2 Bigtop Burger Supercut:

- Apparently the "freakazoids" that Cesare and the underworld have been keeping tabs on are Cryptids. I had suspected the freakazoids in question might be demons as Hell is taking some responsibility for them but they're cryptids??? Man, that just makes me sad, leave bigfoot alone :(((((

- One of the cryptids pictured is Flatwoods Monster, who, according to legend, is also an alien. The other two appear to be Mothman and though I'm a bit fuzzy on this one some sort of bigfoot or yeti creature. He's wearing a lil stetson hat. Did Cesare use the stetson hat trick before?

- The second still shown in the credits appears to be Munkustrap descending onto Earth on some sort of spacecraft as the Bigtop and Zomburger crews watch. They appear to be in the same positions/outfits as when Cesare whack-a-moled Steve into hell. Which is????? Idk what to make of that. Could Flatwoods Monster have some kind of alien technology that they used to contact Clown World? Are we finally gonna have Clown vs Undead War??????? I wonder how Munkustrap will react to seeing other clowns in the pink-yellow-blue spotted outfit which Tim, Penny and Billie are wearing, which seems to be a pattern which all banished clowns are exiled in. Looking forward to see how he looks now that he's aged! Also, I like that this scene implies the Zomburger and Bigtop gangs stick together! Which I want them too! SO BADLY!!!

- As @fr0stmask mentioned in a reply on this post, the spacecraft Munkustrap is seen on is actually a tire, as in the musical Cats, cats who are deemed worthy are sent up to the Heaviside Layer on a TIRE!!! Thanks for the info!

- What if the Cats performance is literal, and one clown actually gets sent "up to the heaviside layer", and that's what happened to Munkustrap and how he got the tire spacecraft. Steve got booted out via banishment and Munkustrap was chosen to ascend, but in the end they both ended up in the same place.

- Frances, Conrad and Allen look visibly upset when they realize Cesare isn't actually proposing a truce and is still up to his antagonistic bullshit.

- The image of Cesare in his weird little Cabinet of Dr. Caligari coffin makes my stomach do little back filps. We've seen Tim, Penny, Billie, Frances, Conrad, Allen, and Steve all in their own homes (For Steve it's his truck where he sleeps) but Never Cesare! Seeing him in there makes me nervous honestly because in the image, his box/cabinet has two doors on its front, with no handles inside, which suggests it closes from the outside and he's "stored" in there and deanimated (seeing as his eyes are closed and this is the only time we've seen him at rest) when not in use. This would add metaphorical meaning to Cesare's comments about being a puppet vendor, as now that's all he is- a puppet. He looks like a little doll being stored in his box. This seems to suggest something I've long suspected, that the "1000 year sentence" Cesare is being held on by the underworld may be bullshit, and he won't actually be allowed to go on retirement. Instead, this idea of his sentence one day ending is merely meant to motivate and control him, like a carrot being held in front of a horse. Could that candle shown at the end be his lifeforce? When its lit maybe he's animate, while when its snuffed out, he's a lifeless husk kept in a box.

- You think Cesare's and Steve's footie pajamas have a similar narrative role? Like to make them easily identifiable as rejects (in Steve's case) or property (in Cesare's case)? You think they're just meant to be dehumanizing or a source of shame?

- Tim was the first one to find Steve, which makes me feel fucked up that Steve still doesn't know his name and seems to mis-name him the most :(((((( Tom and Toby???????? I mean I get that my man likely has memory issues, he's very old and he hit his head very hard on the ground and he refuses to go easy on that fckng juul

- Baby Tim is so cute and handsome I'm dying

- The alley Steve emerges into in the after credits scene seems to rememble the alley with the hole in the ground that Conrad recounts Cesare getting money from. Is this because the underworld was able to track Steve's ascent through the ground to Earth's surface? Is this the same hole Cesare enters and exits the underworld from?

- Also, Steve spits out some rocks when he reaches the surface. U think that's how he started thinking of rocks as food? They just kimda got in ther and he thought "mmmnm yummy!"

- Based on the timelime and my own calcumalations, Steve landed in Sweden, creating the crater which is now known as the Siljan ring, and emerged a whole continent over in North America (at least I'm assuming the show takes place in North America. The driving wheel is on the left side, right? And everyone has American accents? (Except Tim) Is that enough?)

I have a theory that Penny reminds Steve of his own mother. Both women have the same voice actress (Lindsay Small-Butera, my beloved ;-;), and in season one, while Steve is high, once he hears Penny's voice, he shapeshifts into his child form (which I think might have been the last time he saw his mom before she dropped him off at Christian-Acting Camp) and asks her for soup. He's even in the same Little Lord Fontleroy outift. Also, at the Food Truck Expo, when Steve sees Cesare approaching him, he hides behind Penny's back. Also, they have a similar appearance in hair color and clown makeup.

- Speaking of Steve's family, in the scene where Steve is about to be shot into space, there are three clowns who stick out from the crowd. One, with a haircut resembling Steve's mother's on the right (I believe this is her), Munkustrap in the center (at least I believe this is him, their hair and faces are similar) and a male figure on the left. I believe this figure on the left is Steve's father, and Munkustrap is either Steve's brother or past love interest (I think him being his brother is more realistic because him being Steve's love interest and sending him into space is I think too dark even for this show).

- I think the clown actors in Cats may only refer to eachother by their character names. Munkustrap is given no other name, and Steve being stripped of his name as "Old Deut" is seen as a big deal.

- I noticed whenever male clowns get old, their hair develops into sort of a tonsure style with a little dollop of hair sitting right in the middle of their bald spot. Peanut has this, along with Steve's father, and Steve is also developing this as well, based on the wicked widow's peak he has whenever his hat is off.

- bro I wanna see Cesare and Munkustrap interact so bad. What if they get jealous of eachother like, "No! I'm the only emo twink that gets to make Steve's life a living hell, who the fck are you???"

- I want them. To fight lol

- Cat fight!!!!!

- I may be stretching with this one but Munkustrap and Cesare just look kinda visually similar to me? At least with the black onesie and the dark unkempt hair. You think there's a reason for that? Or is it more metaphorical, as in these are just two people who have an impact on Steve's life in that they do their best to not let him fit in with the general society?

- In the still of Munkustrap descending from the sky, Conrad is build like a brick shit house frfr

Just needed to get these thoughts out of my head so they don't weigh down on my humors and make me bad at art and work and remembering to eat food and sleep and bathe and breathe for the next however many months it is before another episode O-O

#bigtop burger #worthikids #btb #btb steve #btb cesare

[the-steambird]

[ 011223 EDITION ]

GENSHINBLR — NOVEMBER, 2023 EDITORIAL

EXTRA! EXTRA! Over here, dear reader! As we enter the twelfth month of the year, read up on what’s happened this past month of November on Genshin Tumblr!

From your Editors: Crow and Ely.

COLLECTIVES — November Events !

TRENDING! || From Journalist @meidnightrain

1989 Event — 21 songs to 21 fics with the Genshin characters; A celebration to the release of Taylor Swift’s 1989 album, with fluff, angst, and hurt / comfort galore! Our journalist Meisha takes us through the re-recorded album with various Genshin characters X GN! Reader ranging from Aether, to Furina, and many more in between!

NEWS FLASH! || From Editor @yuellii

Fontaine : Dark Blood — A supernatural-themed event to continue off the spirit of Halloween in November; Dark Blood follows three separate one shots of vampire Neuvillette, werewolf Wriothesley, and puppet Lyney X GN! Reader. Our editor Ely executes horror through her writing, so readers, please heed her warnings carefully in each fic!

COLUMN — Individual Spotlight !

LET TWO EYES BE UNDECEIVED, Lyney / By Editor @rainswept

Summary from the editor: Growing up with you by his side, falsities were always something Lyney could see through. He preferred not to use them, not for a long time — but once you were gone and he and Lynette were left without someone to do the group’s dirty work, he forced himself to inherit the way of living you left behind.

“So excited for this one! Editor Crow’s been showing me their progress—honestly such a must-read for Lyney fans when it comes out, teehee.” — Editor Ely.

YOU’RE SO RED, ARE YOU OKAY?, Furina / By Journalist @definitelynotaneulasimp

A comedic review by Journalist Henry, in which the Archon of Hydro attempts at a date, but all goes wrong when she develops a terrible case of hiccups. Rumor has it: This fic is a part of Henry’s 1.5k Followers Event!

Want more Genshin women content? Definitely check out Henry’s own blog for characters like Ei, Navia, and more!

GOODNIGHT, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @strawberrylabs

Did you know: Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, Venti, Cyno and Childe have voice lines about you, dear reader?! If you’re having trouble falling asleep, hear what these characters have to say all about you!

A SIMPLE MISSION, Neuvillette / By Journalist @alaboadoa

Rumor has it: The Duke and the Iudex were caught whispering privately about you?! Read as Journalist Soph gossips all the juicy details about their conversation—it seems Monsieur Neuvillette might have a crush on you!

Just recently released: Journalist Soph also just recently released a new entry for Ayato, “INK TO PAPER.” Both of these works are featured in her 1k milestone event!

ONE CHANCE (PT.2), Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @ayaboba

“You give them one chance. How do they use it?” Journalist Anya returns with Kazuha, Lyney, Wanderer, and Zhongli—all who have just one last chance with you. Be sure to also check our her part one of this entry with Alhaitham, Diluc, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley, linked in her entry!

WHEN THEY LOSE YOU, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @yrbladie

Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvillette, Zhongli — ever in the mood for angst and no comfort? Then Journalist Naeris delivered us painful excepts on five different Genshin men and how they act after ( spoiler! ) losing you.

With Journalist Naeris also being on the rise and joining the writing train, be sure to check out all the other works she has published this month, as well!

FEATURE — The Editors’ Favorites !

YOUR SHADOW UNDER THE ILLUSORY MOON., Lyney / By Journalist @dulcesiabits

“this piece genuinely moved me. journalist liya’s writing is beautiful, and out of hundreds — maybe even thousands — of works that i have read, this has remained my favorite. it had me hanging on every word and i could genuinely feel the emotion put into it — her word choices and the way she conveys the scenes are profound in a way i cannot hope to describe. the ties and parallels part one has with PART TWO are so smart, too. hands down the most immersive and touching writing i’ve ever had the pleasure to read.” — Editor Crow.

JEALOUS-!, Ayato / By Journalist @jinxlixir

“LOVED this one! Takes place in a modern school AU with Ayato as the student council prez, and reader as his vice prez! The concept is every hopeful cliché, and Journalist Jinx did an amazing job characterizing Ayato so well—this one definitely stayed in my head for a while!”

“Not to mention: This little snippet is a continued concept of Jinx’s OTHER AYATO PIECE, one that’s much longer and written excellently!! I was practically squealing the whole time I read it… Ignore my tags if you decide to scroll through the notes.” — Editor Ely.

THE-STEAMBIRD is a Genshinblr Newspaper that posts news on the latest fanfiction and fanart! Editorials are published on the 1st day of every month, compiling your favorite works, featuring sections for journalists (writers) and photographers (artists).

Every month, from the 2nd-24th, we are in the nomination process. Writers and artists can nominate works they would like to see featured on The-Steambird for the month using our form!

#🗞️ — ꒰ news ! ꒱ #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #lyney x reader #ayato x reader #furina x reader

[animehideout]

A Deal ( Ryomen Sukuna x F.Reader) Part 2.

Read Part 1 here.

part 3

Manga spoiler⚠️

WARNINGS: Sensitive, smut content. Minors and those who don't like this kind of stuff please DO NOT INTERACT 🔞🔞

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

6:12 PM

You laid on the soft silky bed. Sukuna departed early in the morning, having taken all he could from you, leaving you completely drained. You were aware of the cost when you got yourself into this for your loved ones; the cost... was you.

Despite the comfort in the room, it couldn't soothe you enough. All you wished for was to be in Satoru's embrace. You understood it might not happen, but at least he was alive now – Sukuna did keep his promise in the end.

You thought about surrendering, running away, abandoning everything even if it led to your death.

"No, I can't abandon Megumi" you whispered to yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Leaving is impossible as long as Sukuna controls Megumi's body.

Yet,perhaps ....perhaps when Sukuna regains his own body, you can leave, when you make sure everyone's safe.

Surely, this deal has got an end.

......

"I see you're still awake," Sukuna remarked, pulling you from your trance. You chose to ignore him; the last thing you desired was to see his face or engage in conversation with him.

"Come now, puppet, don't ignore me," he sighed while settling on the bed's edge.

His hand began to wander across your form, starting from your shoulder, waist, hips, down to your exposed legs. His sharp nails grazed your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, like being struck by lightning.

You'd had enough of him using your body for his own impure pleasure.

“I have a mission for you” he added.

"What mission?"

"I keep my promises, you know. I need you to find me another body ...of a powerful sorcerer so I can return to my true form."

You smiled, aware that this task wouldn't be simple, but it meant Megumi could finally be free.

"When do I start?"

"Tonight," he smirked.

Determination filled you; after all, you were his servant.

"And after that, Sukuna, stay away from Megumi, Satoru, and all of my loved ones."

He laughed, his red eyes penetrating your soul.

"Don't worry about them. Worry about yourself. Though I do fancy Megumi's body; he's rather handsome, much better than that brat Yuji."

You swallowed hard, the thought of being Sukuna's perpetual captive made your heart sink, a bitter taste of self-disgust settling in.

"You seem uncomfortable. Am I the cause of your nerves, little sorcerer? Or is it because you can't resist the thought of how I make you feel when you repeatedly scream my name?" he inquired, drawing nearer and trapping you between his sturdy shoulders and the bed frame.

"I-I'm not," you stammered.

"I must acknowledge that you, a frail human, have indeed impressed me," he declared.

You remained silent, not trynna say something wrong that would lead him to fucking the attitude out of you.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"The power of love led you to sacrifice yourself for those who don't even care about you, Gojo Satoru hah.. Do you truly believe that brat loves you? If he did, he'd be here trying to snatch you away from me. But he's witnessed death and thinks staying alive after dying on my hands is more important than saving you, you.. the one risking it all for him."

He attempted to manipulate you like a puppet, trying to mold you into his likeness. Making you see the flaws in people instead of giving them excuses. Yet, he forgot that you possess a heart that keeps you human rather than a heartless curse.

You're the one who prayed and hoped Gojo wouldn't come to save you, fearing Sukuna might kill him again. Even though you didn't want him around, your heart couldn't shake the slight ache, the idea that what Sukuna said might be true.

"Submit to me, obey me. Let me introduce you to a different kind of love. I can provide pleasure in ways his mind can't comprehend. As the king of curses, I promise you eternal protection."

His lips crashed yours, the strong hand on your waist pulled you closer to him, forcing you to straddle his lap.

You tried to push him away, to turn your head to the other side but he was way stronger than you. Kissing you hungrily, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, biting, licking, sucking.. leaving you completely breathless.

“S-submit to me” he whispered against your lips.

His mouth started trailing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, moistening the soft skin of yours with his saliva.

While his hands roamed your waist, finally resting on your hips pushing you down on his clothed crotch.

Each touch setting you on fire

You hated this, with each cell in your body.. but you couldn't help the wetness building up between your thighs..

He drove you crazy from the intense pleasure, of how his mouth worked, even though he didn't touch you...yet.. it was just a kiss.

The harshness of the kisses, made you lower lip bleed..

“ohh I see I made it bleed..” he smirked, proud of what he did to you.

He opened his mouth again, his tongue licking off the blood off of your lip.. Savouring your taste, humming.

Finally breaking the kiss, letting you breathe.

Choosing to submit means being stuck with him forever, while refusing means your death. That little heart of yours, desires life but not this one. You dream of a life with Satoru and your friends, not on Sukuna's side—alive for his desires, doing his dirty work, while he's robbing you of freedom and your will to live.

"If I do, if I submit, can I see them one last time? Will you allow me to give them a proper goodbye?"

Tags:

@wifenanami

@certainduckanchor

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #sukuna smut #toji smut #geto smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #anime smut #megumi smut #choso smut #gojo x reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk sukuna smut #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk gojo #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut

[cassandrasimplex]

Listen, when I say, as an abuse survivor, that Astarion's storyline is written with care, delicacy, and profound understanding: Since I completed it a few days ago, which I found incredibly cathartic and fulfilling due to points of commonality with the nature and causes of my CPTSD, I've been sleeping 7-8 hours a night straight through (instead of 3-5 at a time), my resting heart rate has dropped almost 10 beats per minute, I've had zero nightmares (based not just on what I remember but also on how much I move and talk in my sleep), and my fitness tracker wants to know what I've been doing different lately and whether I can keep it up.

I don't expect this change to be permanent or even long-lasting, but not even months of therapy at a time have ever had a positive effect so strong my tracker picked up on it. Not even when I was in crisis mode and only able to sleep 2 or 3 hours a day was therapy able to improve my sleep and my well-being so immediately. Astarion's storyline from finding Cazador's prisoners to the final confrontation, which took me a bit over an hour, did. If you want to count all the narrative build-up to that climax that gave it meaning, call it six weeks' investment for such a dramatic improvement.

The idea that trauma-aware roleplay can help people with PTSD and especially CPTSD find short-term peace and even a long-term improvement in overall functioning and mental health isn't new to me. I stumbled across it on my own, unguided, 30+ years ago. It's a bit newer to most therapists, but it's an approach used in experiential therapy and some related strategies and had been studied for much longer before its incorporation in such toolkits. But BG3 isn't being sold as therapy; it's being sold as a fun video game to play in one's free time.

The thing about CPTSD and recovery from abuse in general is that you have to practice new ways of reacting to the world. Therapies like cognitive behavior therapy focus on helping the patient replace old, maladaptive patterns of thinking that helped them survive a traumatic situation but hinder functioning in safer environments with intentionally-created ones that would have been too dangerous to practice in the traumatic environment but are healthier and more supportive outside it. These patterns have to be practiced, though; it's not enough to just correct yourself once with a more affirming statement and wait for results. You have to do it over and over until it becomes your new default. And results matter. If practicing the new behavior or thought results in the kind of negative outcome it would have prompted in the original abusive situation, the effect is that the old, maladaptive pattern is reinforced instead: "See? I knew acting that way would be too dangerous. I knew thinking that way would just be lying to myself. I already know what's best. The way I've always behaved in order to survive is what serves to keep me safe."

Which is why Astarion's storyline is both so effective and so astonishingly well done. Over and over, you get the chance to reassure him that your friendship is not merely a set of opportunistic transactions, that you don't want to control him, that you see him as a person rather than a puppet or a tool, that he can refuse to manage your feelings for you or even outright hurt your feelings without being "punished" for it. You can comment out loud to him when you catch him being manipulative and tell him that's not how your friendship works while still accepting and supporting him as a person, as a friend. You can make your friendship with him an environment completely opposite in nature to his relationship with his abuser. You can teach him -- and, if you need it, yourself -- what a safe environment looks like. And you can teach him that his abuser's behavior was successful in an environment created specifically to reserve all power for the abuser, but doesn't serve as well outside that situation, to encourage him to find healthier ways of dealing with the world than the ones that were modelled for him within that trauma. (Am I projecting? Of course I'm projecting; that's precisely what makes roleplay such an effective tool. It's a natural human tendency that can be used to advantage.)

And somewhere in your psyche, if you're a person who needs to hear all that as much as Astarion does, your mind is taking note: "How I thought the whole world works was wrong. Only that one little part of the world worked that way. The world is much bigger than the limited environment that hurt me. There are better ways to live and be." The parts of the brain where trauma plants its deepest roots can't tell the difference between play and reality, between past and present. They can't tell the difference between "I can make a safer environment for this person in front of me" and "I can go back in time and make a safer environment for the person I used to be." (That's why so many abuse survivors feel compelled to help other abuse survivors -- empathy, yes, and identification, but on a deeper level than that; we try to become the person who never showed up to help us.)

And if "this person in front of me" happens to be a fictional character, well, it can't really tell the difference between fiction and reality either -- especially when the fiction has a visible face and an audible voice and convincing expression in both.

I'm not in the slightest saying, "Go out and buy BG3 to fix yourself!" because using roleplay as therapy is far too highly personal and variable to expect consistent results from a script. There might be people whose trauma is reinforced by the same things that spoke so soothingly to mine. Larian is a video game company, not a therapist. But I can't get over the way a video game company for fuck's sake has created such a sensitive, tender, supportive story that it can even accidentally function this way. They didn't have to go so hard. They didn't have to lean so far into empathy. They didn't have to bring so much realism into it. They could have just told an interesting story. They did tell an interesting story -- but someone here decided they needed to tell it so well, so powerfully, that they were going to need to know exactly what living through events like those would do to a person, and how a friend would have to act to support that person in working toward happiness and health.

Well fucking done, Larian. Extremely well fucking done.

And although I can't reasonably expect the current effects to last, I can carry something lasting from here on; I can add "What would I say to Astarion right now?" to the list of questions I ask myself when triggered, when I realize I'm experiencing an implicit flashback. What would I say to Astarion? What would I say to a friend? What would I say to someone I care about who's been through the same things I have? What would I say to myself if I thought I deserved to be happy and free?

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion #astarion ancunin #Larian #ptsd #complex ptsd #cptsd #child abuse #abuse survivor

[elmhat]

// dsmp rp

@sam-and-dream-week day 4 — "torture"

TW: aftermath of torture (duh)

“It shouldn’t be stuck in this far,” said Sam, tugging at the wooden stake lodged in Dream’s arm.

Dream winced at the pain, biting the inside of his cheek. “Sorry,” he replied, with a healthy touch of sarcasm. Maybe Sam should ask Quackity to apologize, if it was such a big deal. They must have some pretty interesting conversations anyway.

Sam eyed him while he worked. “Don’t use that tone with me. We both know who’s to blame for this.”

“Y’know, I kinda— I feel like we’re gonna have pretty different answers,” said Dream. He couldn’t help it, he was amused.

Sam ignored him entirely. With one hand, he dug metal fingers into the flesh of Dream’s arm. With the other, he gripped the stake, grunting as he pulled it free in a flurry of oozing blood. Dream yelled out, of course, but Sam ignored that too, immediately going to apply regen to the fresh new hole. “All you have to do is give me the book,” he said. “That’s it. That’s literally it. It’s not hard.”

“Like you actually give a shit about that,” Dream muttered. His arm hurt. His arm really hurt.

“Of course I care about the book, what? I’ve told you that since day one.”

Day one was who knows how long ago now. Dream would guess it had been a couple of weeks, at least, but he was painfully aware that time was probably passing far slower for him than the rest of the world. A lot could change in a couple of weeks; Dream had always been good at making use of his time. Quackity was also good at making use of his time.

“Really,” said Dream. “So, before this, when I was still… free… you still would’ve cared about the revival book? That’s— That still would’ve been, like, top priority?”

Sam sat back on his heels, wiping a bloodied arm across his bloodied forehead. “Dream, what are you saying. Before you were in here, we didn’t even know the book existed!”

“No— but if you did, though.” Dream took a nervous breath before he said the next part. “Pretend Punz doesn’t show up. And then I tell you— as a friend, I tell you, about the book. Then what?”

In an obvious bid to avoid the question, Sam began rifling through his medkit. Lots of bottles in there—healing potions, mostly, but also regen and fire res, for emergencies. Maybe Dream could steal one, at some point. When he had two functional arms. Sam soaked a cloth in more regen, which he wasn’t gentle about applying. “It doesn’t even matter what I’d do,” he said, “it didn’t happen.”

“But if it did,” said Dream.

“You shouldn’t have that kind of power,” Sam snapped, forcing eye contact. “You shouldn’t. And the rest of the server wouldn’t allow it either— you know, it’s not just us who need that book. It’s for all of us. For the good of the world.”

Through the throbbing, nauseating pain, Dream felt a kind of smugness settle in his chest. Even now, even here, he was able to provoke a reaction from his warden—and they both knew that Dream was right, Sam was just too much of a coward to admit it. There was power in words, and words were the one thing that they would never be able to take from him. Not if they continued claiming to want that precious book.

“Sorry,” Dream said eventually, and he even bowed his head a little, just to make Sam feel like he had won whatever contest this was.

Within the walls of this prison, Dream had never been honest. Not with Sam, not about this place or its purpose. That was the nature of their relationship. The builder and the mastermind. The puppet and the strings. Sam could send in his attack dog all he liked, but Dream was still the one holding the leash.

That was what his mind repeated, long into the night, while he awaited Quackity’s return.

~

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 ]

#tw torture #tw injury #dreblr #c!dream #c!sam #drabbles #elm fics #my writing

[viviennevermillion]

Theory about Fellow's backstory:

Some things I'd like to bring to your attention:

Fellow states that he wasted a few more years than the NRC students and slid non-committally through life until he was over 20 and became "employed"

Playful Land has recently become a trend and a fabled place everyone wants to go to. So far we have no information on what the amusement park was like before it became popular, so it might not have existed for that long

Fellow, while being the manager of Playful Land, clearly has a boss who threatens to cut his and Gidel's salary and he doesn't seem to get along very well with his superiors, even seems to hate them as he implies they are the rich people he appears to despise.

Gidel seems interested in going to a school

Now, I haven't personally seen Pinocchio except during my very early childhood, but I have looked up Honest John and apparently he has a boss called the Coachman and according to the wikia Honest John even sympathizes with Pinocchio and reacts with horror to the Coachman's plans to enslave the children

Fellow seems enraged when the topic of money is brought up and Yuu asks him if he does all this "just" for money and he talks about the students going to school as though they are very privileged etc.

This is still a Disney game and Fellow will likely get a card next year the same way Rollo did, which means he needs to be marketable. He's already marketed as the pretty new villain. They could still surprise me but for now I find it rather unlikely that they'll make Fellow a full-on human trafficker out of his own free will for the sake of evilling or some petty revenge / self-hatred reason

So my take so far is that Fellow is going to be the villain we deal with in this event just how Rollo has been but he is NOT the big bad of this amusement park scam. Taking all of this into consideration, I think Fellow is very much complicit in the crimes committed in this event but likely not of his own free will. So far, from what we know about him and assuming Disney won't go as far as make him an irredeemable human trafficker (they might but I still find it unlikely), he reads like someone who is trapped in what we call a "Knebelvertrag" (literal translation: 'gag contract') in my language; i.e. an unequal and unfair contract aiming to (1) create a power imbalance between the victim and the party that benefits from the contract, (2) restrict the victim in their autonomy to make free decisions, (3) make it difficult for the victim to refuse entering the contract, (4) make it even more difficult for them to exit the contract and often (5) make them dependent on the contract.

My theory is that Fellow was one of the first people they trafficked and he is likely useful enough for his superiors to employ him rather than to give him the puppet treatment. He might have had to choose between working for them or being turned into a puppet and sold. He might be responsible for them sparing Gidel from the puppet treatment as well.

Fellow was likely poor and apparently never went to a school from the looks of it. He might have been an orphan or from a bad home and in general the prime victim for human trafficking: someone very few people would look for if he went missing. I suspect that the fact that they can now pull this shit with students from a prestigious school and famous people is due to Fellow's magic and is a development that only happened AFTER he started working there, which explains the recent spike in popularity of Playful Land and that no one investigated them despite all this.

I can imagine there being a lot of brainwashing from the superiors involved such as:

making him feel like he can't survive without this job

making him hate the children who come to Playful Land because they're these privileged people who have what Fellow could never have had growing up

making him believe he can't cut ties with Playful Land without like, the superiors finding him and taking him out of the picture

making him feel like no one would believe him if he asked for help

Again, this is all based on the assumption that he's gonna get a sad backstory like Rollo. The other option would be to make him our first irredeemable villain.

The topic of this event is way heavier and more serious than stripping people of their magic power; it's human trafficking, a horrifying crime that actually exists in our world and if they want to make Fellow someone we can sympathize with they're gonna have to give him one hell of a backstory. "He suffered a loss and is full of self-hatred or jealousy" isn't going to cut it this time. Having him suffer with the guilt about his actions isn't going to cut it this time. Because this is not a mentally ill 18-year-old who's taking people's magic away, this is a fully grown adult man working for a human trafficking scam.

THIS on the other hand is realistic. These circumstances are tied to the topic of human trafficking and this would make more sense as a backstory for Fellow than anything else I can come up with for now. Sure you have the kids who are being held hostage and sold but that's just one facet of the whole thing. Not every case of trafficking is a prisoner in a shady cellar. Some of them are people who are in exploitative contracts and coerced and feel like they can't leave without severely endangering their lives.

Not saying Fellow is a victim or a poor little meow meow because at this point we still have no idea where they'll go with the rest of the story, they might just make him petty and evil. But if they'll take the sympathetic route, this is what makes sense for me as his backstory without making it feel like he got off too easily or like the story excuses his behavior.

For all I know he could just turn out to be complicit in human trafficking because he never got any chances and thinks the privileged kids deserve this and we could just beat him up and throw him in prison but that'd be a first for this game.

Anyway, what do you guys think Fellow's backstory will be?

#twst spoilers #twst jp #stage in playful land #fellow honest #twst fellow #twisted wonderland #twst

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

The Show Must Go on Darling. Part 2: Wally x Parent GN Reader

@malamilkbeats made this artwork. I like it so much. I hope you like the story. Someone on here has been making boarders and I absolutely adore them and use them. I’ll reference them in another post. I’m now. Making Wally part blue.

You wake up from a jolt in your bed. Your daughter Zoey is bouncing up and down. “ Today we go to the studio! Today we go to the studio,” she squeals jumping up and down. You let out a chuckle and grab her tickling her causing her to grab her stomach. “Yea we are my little silly monkey. We going to have a wonderful day together,” you say laughing as you tickle her. She laughs and surrenders so you stop and she rushes to get dressed for today. You laugh and go the the closet. You have these billowy rainbow pants you been dying to wear but they weren’t work appropriate so you put them on with this nice loose long sleeve white shirt. You put an ascot on (it’s either in your hair as head band or pony tail or on your neck). You slip on some nice leather shoes you had. Comfy and head out to the kitchen where little Zoey was in her tie dye dress waiting. You hum and cook breakfast real quick. Just some eggs and toast and fix her a glass of apple juice. “Go ahead and eat and we will head on out ,” you say setting a plate in front of her biting into your toast. She quickly eats her food gulping it down super fast. You pat her back so she don’t choke. “I’m all done! Can we go ? Let’s go!!!!” She says excited putting dishes in sink running out to car. “Wait , I’m coming,” you laugh grabbing your keys chasing after .

Wally was rubbing his hands nervously. Ronald had made sure that the parent and the little girl were the only ones to show up today. He was pacing on the stage back and forth. The others were so confused about why he was pacing. “Hey Wally, are you ok? You are passing across the stage. You look like you are about to have a panic attack,” Julie says worried. “We just having a shooting today,” Sally says confused. He honestly didn’t want to say why. Not really sure what he was feeling. He just really liked how a parent loved their kid. He was just really excited about the idea of seeing you again. It felt really weird this new feeling. “You can do this Wally,” he says this to himself. He fixes up his hair and looks toward the window fidgeting when he sees the two walking in.

You were confused walking in seeing how y’all were alone . Zoey was so excited. They could get front row and be close up to the window to watch. “Come on. Come on. Let’s sit down (P/N). Please ? ,” she grabs your hand pulling you to the front and y’all sit down. You fix her hair gently and the show starts . This episode seemed to be about painting but you were freaked out cause it seemed like Wally was staring at you. But Zoey was enjoying the show. She watched everyone draw what they loved and they all put pictures and you were just happy Zoey was enjoying it. Wally thanks the viewers for watching and heads into Home. Zoey claps her hands. As you and her head to leave , Mr. Ronald stops by and starts talking. “Did y’all enjoy the show,” he asks. Zoey sets down her bag and starts aching all excited. She explains how she wants to paint and was so happy about the episode and her love of the puppets.

Wally sneaks off the stage and was in the room. He watches the people talk and sees the backpack. He sneaks over and gets over to the backpack. He unzips and climbs in. He really wanted to get to know them. The back pack was picked up and he was watching as they leave. He gives a thumbs up to Ronald as they leave and hides in the back pack. As they drive , he loved listening to your voice. He watches as y’all stopped to get burgers and such to go home. He really wants to see where y’all live. He was so comfortable listening to your voice. He fell asleep for the rest of the way .

Enjoy!!!!!!!!!

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home fandom #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #welcome home x y/n #wally darling x self insert #wally x y/n #wally x reader

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

Here is: capitolo uno

Capitolo due

Capitolo tre

Capitolo quattro

Capitolo cinque

Capitolo sei

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

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@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time

The rain poured and poured upon the workshop's roof. It seemd to have been doing so for the past week but, judging from the humming evidently resounding from the room deep within the building, the only resident there did not seem to care too much.

The floors creaked in the room, still old and dusty - especially compared to the rest of the rooms in the house - but she was sure this was a simple and temporary oversight of her uncle. The rain may pour with a few thunder growling outside but she had long not been a little and frightened child anymore. Even so, the humming was her way of keeping herself company.

Even at the attempt of putting the old, amateur tools neatly away, they still fell to the ground and she had to keep getting them back up. That was admittedly vexing. Still, the song in her head and the flickering of the lamp above were enough.

Finally, the arm would move a bit more freely. She had long learned that her hands would get dirtied but to have this amount of oil taint her skin for such a meek but precious doll was still surprising. She wouldn't tell Uncle that though. Yet, with a deep breath, she took the small paintbrush back into her palm.

"...I know you..." The humming turned into soft singing as she cocked her head for a better angle. "...I walked with you, once upon a dream..." Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she tilted the doll further to the light. A noise of confusion errupted before she got an idea.

"I know you, that glint in your," She halted for a second to catch her thoughts as the blonde locks didn't exactly seem to stick on her head. She quickly opened the drawer next to her, yelped at the loud creak, before fishing out a needle. The singing went from a piano to a forte. "Eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Finally, the wig would stay tight. She hoped.

For safety's sake, she pulled on one lock and found herself glad that it stayed put. "And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem...but if I know you..." Soon, her hands went to the hems of the dress and checked the fabric. It wasn't as blue as it used to be and she wondered if she should make an exact copy but just in pink. That is sure to impress.

"...I know what you'll do..."

Eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Would he even recognize it's the same doll then? Surely, an skilled puppet maker like Uncle certainly would...but his memory at this old age? She didn't know.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she let it be. That gives it character - and even if it does not, the memory of her percious ol' doll still delights her to this day, even as an adult. With a swing, she got up from the plush stool and danced with the toy as she did as a kid. It is the quality that will certainly impress.

"...You'll love me at once, the way you did once...upon a dream~!"

Soon, the thunder growled loueder and it was easy to reckon another resident entered the workshop at this late hour. Heavy footsteps followed with quiet grunts of how the entire entrance was now wet. The doll was quickly tucked and hidden inside the drawer and lighter, faster footsteps sped down the stairs. The man tunred to the source of ecxitement as he took off his drenched hat.

"Welcome back, Uncle Geppetto."

He greeted you in return. "Thank you. You're up and about this late." The gentleman hung his hat on the rack before removing each layer of wet clothes off with with frustration. The rain - no, storm - has been dragging him down the past week.

Cleaning his monocle dry, he put it back on to get a good look at you. Hands patted down the stained and old striped pants of his that he borrowed you from younger times. It was when you so abruptly arrived and was meant to serve as a sort of substitute - but you both agreed it was time to treat the old thing as a worker's outfit, held up by the old straps for as long as they still could and not grieving once the entire set is done and dusted. Only a few more uses left, before it will be thrown out entirely. Or cut up and used as a rag. Or as some substitute clothing for a puppet your size.

Finding a suitable shirt wasn't hard. All that was needed was one of yours that was allowed to get dirty, stained and ripped. Your mother was first hesitant to send you any of your good clothes if it meant being anywhere near the workshop. Yet she was still eager to use the opportunity to finally get rid of your old clohtes she wasn't too keen on. The shoes belonged to your father, a pair she found lying around and didn't have the heart to throw those ones away.

Yet, it was your hands neatly hidden behind your back and your honest smile that caught Geppetto's brown eyes.

"I take it you have been a good girl while I was gone?" Just as you were about to answer with an high 'Of course, Uncle.', the man quickly continued. "Good girls go to bed at this hour."

You sigh. "Oh, Uncle," Your shoulders fell, "I understand but I am no child anymore." "Child or not, nothing good comes from being up at this unholy hour. You don't have to wait for me to come home, dear. You know I have the key and go and return whenever the puppets call me." He laughed but was clearly shivering from the cold. Even his gray, thick beard and mustache were dripping with cold raindrops.

"Now, come on. Get tidy and sleep. Nothing can be done this late, let's continue tomorrow." Geppetto sniffed, scratching his nose and walked towards the living room. Through the small hallway, he passed a few naked puppet forms, put aside for a project he had initially forgotten. The sight of them makes him sigh.

Yet so were your quick footsteps, following him. "You say that but we haven't done anything the past week. I am already done with fixing up the butlers." You meant to point at the two butler puppets, their coats and paint fresh and done but Geppetto had long passed them and so did you. "They..still malfunction, slightly, but I have done what you asked me to, Uncle."

For a moment he looked back before sighing again and stopping. You manage to stop before bumping into him. "...I will take a look at those tomorrow. I cannot think now, I cannot give you an answer right now, dear. Just wait and do as I say. We can discuss more with fresh minds and fresher bodies."

Without hesitation you closed your mouth shut and nodded. You could tell he was not in the mood to discuss your apprenticeship and your impatience. He took your obedience with a smile and a nod. "Good night, then, (Name). And don't have me catch you out of your bed at this time again. You'll see that this behaviour will only bring you consequences."

With a single pat on you shoulder which left it wet, Geppetto left to his bedroom without another word. You hid your disappointment as you went to your own before reminding yourself to tidy up, just as he asked you to. He may be treating you like a child but you supposed that does not make his words any less wise. You did not wish to upset him even more now, anyway.

As you followed your uncle's request, your humming resumed though quieter. You found your routine to be over quite quickly due to the exhaustion you evidently but still, frustratingly, felt. Good thing Uncle was not there to witness it.

Still, with a resolute peek, you looked over the doll you hid which mended your disappointment even a little bit - before heading off to bed.

Even as your humming grew quieter, the tones still resounded in the dark room below. The third resident did hear, unlike your uncle.

ok, I NEEDED to write this, this has been on my mind an entire week. i have...so much brainrot and ideas.

female reader, niece of geppetto and apprentice when krat was stil o-kay

but things kinda go???? bad??? haywire???

geppetto going insane and weird haha

reader going from naive to AAAAAAA

kinda??? weird relationship with geppetto???

angst

angst from the past

i kinda wanna have the reader and pinocchio to also have a dubious relationship??? Like, its not gonna be fluffy wholesome

yandere~ mute~ creepy~ puppet~ literally not saying a word, no pov from his side just - actions. yandere actions.

not sure how to intertwine this with the story. im not too caught up with it (unlike pino's eyes) but i really dont know if i should even include gemini or sophia. kinda like??? au?

youre stuck with the puppet

also not sure if there is like- sexism and shit in there. its like the victorian era but an FANTASY victorian era

ppl gonna be mean t you

Lies of P Pinocchio: *exists*

me:

#lies of p #yandere lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p x reader #yandere pinocchio x reader #pinoccio #fem!reader #ticking springs