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#humans are losers without powers
just-trash-talks · 1 year
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Jon:D! Dames!! Damian!!!
Damian:What?!
Jon:Humans are aliens
Damian:...What?
Jon:Just think about it!! For my dad and aunt Kara since they came from another planet they are aliens for humans but humans are aliens for them!! And even for Marian Menhunter, Mon-El, Zod Miss Martian and others!! There are not "not aliens" there's just different races of aliens, and human are losers- I mean aliens without powers!!
Damian:
Damian:
Damian:
Damian:So you're telling me that when I called you or you father "aliens" I was being racist
Jon:Yes
Damian:Good to know
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jrueships · 6 days
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Never saw how sexy lou dort was until you drew him like that. Now I want him pregnant. I blame you.
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iT AiNT MUCH BUT IT'S AN ONEST WORK, ANON 🫡‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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fuckmeyer · 1 year
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María is a bad bitch queen supreme with a simple dream of reclaiming her land Volturi-style after her human life was tragically cut short by a Texan who had invaded Mexico to create his own vampire Golden Corral. RESPECT HER OR PERISH
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direquail · 4 months
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I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.
When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.
If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.
And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).
I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.
And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).
And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.
That's the whole point.
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earthtooz · 8 months
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x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+゚
in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?
warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!
a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)
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The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day. 
When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon. 
The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else. 
You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone. 
“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).
Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself. 
“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask. 
“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.” 
“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home. 
The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you. 
Can a home be a person?
He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.
“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.
You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?). 
Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.
“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.” 
He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.
“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes. 
“You didn’t even look properly.”
“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”
You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”
“None! None at all!”
You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms. 
His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you. 
“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask. 
His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster. 
Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow. 
“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?” 
“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”
“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.” 
He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt, 
Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.
But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?
When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down. 
Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims. 
You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture. 
What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers. 
The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.
“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”
“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”
The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.
“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.
“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks. 
“You’re at the right place.”
“But he told us no one would be home today!”
“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”
“Yeah, we are! And who are you?” 
“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”
“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”
“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”
“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”
“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”
“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone. 
“No trouble at all,” he reassures.
“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.
“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.
What an intriguing pair.
“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.” 
“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.
Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!” 
“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”
“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”
“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs. 
“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”
“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.
“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”
You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’. 
“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”
“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”
“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.
“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”
A… what? 
Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush. 
Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.
You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world. 
Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui. 
(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be. 
Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.
You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)
Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine. 
“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”
“Welcome home, Childe.” 
He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-” 
“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him. 
“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.
“Must you act a fool?”
“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”
“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”
“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.
“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know. 
“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”
“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.
“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”
“Childe-”
“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.
“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet. 
Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet. 
“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”
Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”
Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”
“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”
“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft. 
“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.” 
With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of. 
You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?
“Who are you really?”
“I’m yours-”
“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself. 
“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”
“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”
“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”
“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.
He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you? 
“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?” 
Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him. 
Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)
You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.
“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”
“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?” 
“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”
The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.  
You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.
“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob. 
“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen. 
“I’ll try.” 
“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”
“I know.” 
You shut the door behind you.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.
@fallenssun for u :>
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biribaa · 7 months
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I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them
Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!
-🧪Anon
Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them
I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.
TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted
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Kinger
Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J
Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.
Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.
He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.
Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.
Caine
While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.
You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?
"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.
Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.
He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.
With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.
And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.
Ragatha
Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.
Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.
Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!
Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.
Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.
The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.
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ieatstarsforaliving · 7 months
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The Fucking Fight Club (2)
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Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.
Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader
Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood
Word Count: 3866
Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3
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“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.” 
Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn���t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal. 
“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”
Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”
“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”
“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”
“That’s why we’re practicing!”  
“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.” 
Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact. 
PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.” 
Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?” 
Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist. 
Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.” 
Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.” 
“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”
“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?” 
Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.
“I don’t really want to punch her.”
“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.” 
“Well–”
“-She will, Josie.” 
Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends. 
“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”
“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered. 
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That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn. 
The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree. 
“Hey, isn’t that…” 
You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’. 
Your heart dropped. 
“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?” 
You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out. 
You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature? 
“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.  
“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.” 
You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men. 
You needed Hazel Callahan. 
You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;
“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”
 Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded. 
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“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”
It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night. 
“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel. 
“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”
Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club? 
This was going to be absolutely horrendous. 
“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–” 
“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’. 
“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay? 
“First? Listen to Hazel.” 
Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture. 
“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”
“3:30–-” 
“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”
Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—
“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”
–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym. 
Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)
“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.” 
You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized. 
The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”
“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”
“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.” 
Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”
“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”
“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?” 
“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.” 
“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”
“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added. 
“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry. 
“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?” 
“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?” 
“Uh.” 
PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’ 
“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”
There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.
“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?” 
You shrugged. “Sure.” 
You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie. 
PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’
Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’ 
PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’ 
Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—
-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay. 
“Hazel—”
—And she flung her fist to your face. 
You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure. 
“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” 
“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed. 
PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.” 
“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled. 
Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation. 
“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.” 
“No, No—” 
“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—” 
“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office–  but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.” 
Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.
When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red. 
“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.” 
It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability. 
“Hazel, look at me.”
Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;
“Why didn’t you message me?”
Hazel paused. 
“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?” 
“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”
“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”
Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?” 
You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”
Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.” 
Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.” 
You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.” 
You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury. 
“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset. 
You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.
“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?” 
She chuckled, “You have no idea.” 
You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others? 
Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.
“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.
“No, you don’t.”
Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.
“No, my face is a complete mess–” 
“-You look pretty.” 
You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color. 
“You always do.”
And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed. 
“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”
Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you. 
And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—
“-The club isn’t being shut down!” 
The office door swung open with a bang. 
Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.
“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?” 
“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.
In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.
Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”
“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”
“Are you still up for this, Hazel?” 
Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,
“Let’s fucking do this.”
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Previous Chapter: The Origin
Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4
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heartfullofleeches · 10 months
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Loser (incel) Reader and Sex-maid bot Yan. Reader orders their new toy same day shipping - grateful to the gods for not having to deal with the hassle of making themselves presentable to other humans, and no longer having to clean their room. A little mistake in mailing leads to them getting their robot a day later than expected, and a large crack in its visor. Reader is obviously pissed by this development, but powers the bot on to see the extent of the damage. It works just fine - minus the loss of its built in knowledge and abilities.
They know their prime directive, but they can't wash a single dish or fold clothes. Other parts of them still function so Reader is fine keeping them around and teaching them what to do while it warms their bed. The Bot feels so useless to their master. All they ever do is question them and break every vase they hold like the ditz it is. Their master even gave them the nickname of Melon likely for the damage they've taken. They'll probably have their memories erased when the repair team comes in....
"All fixed. Just a few unplugged wires at that nasty crack. There seems to be some other bugs, but we'd need to take it in to examine."
"You said they work now, right? It's fine. I don't want to have to teach them how to organize my desk properly again. Those figures are collectables."
Their master was letting them keep their precious memories?... The human had never been the nicest, but they weren't outright cruel either. It was almost....cute how protective of their belongings they were. It was their possession too... Fully capable of pleasing their master in all forms, Melon wouldn't waste their second chance.
They cook their master's favor meals without over seasoning or cooking it. They wash clothes and scold their silly master for wearing things multiple days at a time. They wait hand and foot by day and nights....nights are their favorite part. They sit quietly through their master's God awful attempts at flirting in the off chance they ever seek a human mate - but something's off. There's an ache in their chest whenever they imagine their master with another. Their answers to their master's terrible flirts comes start from that hole when the correct thing to do was tell them of their errors and why no human would want them if they said those things.
No human deserved them anyway... All their master needed to be satisfied - was them
Crackposts under cut - suggestive themes
Melon: Master, what's this? :)
Loser Reader: My body pillow. It stains easy so put it down.
Melon: Ah, it's precious to you then? I'll take good care of it :D
Melon: Master, what's this? :)
Loser Reader: A knife. Be careful with it.
Melon: Oh, it's dangerous? I'll keep it far away from you! <3
Melon: Master.... who is this?
Loser Reader: My crush from highschool. Meant to throw that picture away after they rejected me
Melon: They don't mean anything to you anymore?... I think I've found somewhere to store that knife
-
Loser Reader: sighs My friend really wants me to meet their sibling. Guess I better get dressed.
Melon, on their knees: Master ~ it currently 1:14pm. Time for your daily bi-hourly head
Loser Reader: My wha- [ziiip] Fuck, wait-
-
Loser Reader, attempting to flirt: you are a moderately attractive person and in the case I snap and kill everyone - I'd go on the run and change my name with you... or save you for last. How was that?
Melon, wiping fakes tears: You have such a beautiful way with words, master
-
Stranger: Oh, hello- Is Y/n home? We meet online at while ago and they gave me their addresses in case I visit because I only live an hour away
Melon: Hmph, can you pleasure my master while rearranging their game library in alphabetical order at the same time? I think not. Good-bye!
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allamericanb-tch · 5 months
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posting this at the risk of sounding like a pretentious loser
you can learn a lot about a society from its reading choices, and lately, i'm concerned with bookstagram / booktok. there appears to be two dominant genres capturing readers' attention: fantasy and crime / murder mysteries.
fantasy readers are huge consumers. the amazon / barnes and noble wet dream, spending every last dollar on the newest release of six part series. but fantasy novels have always been a regular story in disguise. when you strip away the magic of todays fantasy what are we left with?
today's fantasy stories tend to revolve around taboo themes, especially explicit content. essentially, a form of literary pornography. it reminds me of the joke you used to hear guys say when they bought playboy magazines: "i read it for the articles.”
unlike this new stuff, the essence of series like lord of the rings, the chronicles of narnia, and harry potter lies beyond their fantastical settings. they all delve into the timeless battle between light and dark, and retells the age old narrative of good versus evil, while exploring the nuances of power and the conquest of internal darkness. in each case, magic serves as a narrative tool rather than the central focus.
without passing judgment on the morality, the question is: what does this trend say about our collective priorities in relationships and the themes we find most compelling what is wrong with us? the parallels for crime / murder mysteries are apparent. the fascination with crime, murder, and serial killers raises questions about societal interests and individual takeaways.
as opposed to the timeless and profound themes explored in classic literature, these contemporary genres seem to focus on more immediate and shallow aspects of human experience. i wish our literary interests extended beyond mere escapism and momentary entertainment.
a truly good book is timeless, addressing deeper aspects of society, morality, economics, sociology, mortality, and spirituality.
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fancy-fangs · 5 months
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I love shipping in JRWI especially because somehow they keep creating the most gut wrenching romantic plot lines you have ever seen, without even trying.
We have FNC, literally the sun and the moon, the gods chosen one and a bastard pirate. The symbolism is right there and the further their journey goes the more tragic it becomes. They are best friends and one of them will have to save the world. They were both raised to be weapons, but all they want to do is hold each other. "I would fight the world for you" "I wouldn't want you to"
Angelstone, the love story of all. Yes EP 11 is funny, but goddamn they ripped my heart out starting episode two. Two god slayers, one of them meant to take the gods place, the other not meant for anything at all. The powerful demigod and a loser of a man. They're about humanity and devotion in a way that goes beyond religion. Hozier is jealous of what they have. Their entire story is about "whats god to your love? What can all the power in the world give me that I don't have sitting by your side?"
(I go crazy over Angelstone do not test me I have religious trauma)
And yes I am bringing Ghostknife into this because fuck you I'm the William wisp guy how could I not? The guy who never belonged and the guy from another world? Just teenagers finding comfort in each other during the worst? Movie nights and shared homework. Ten months in a bombed shelter that used to be your home. "I don't know who I am but I feel it when I look in your eyes" "you're my best friend, I wish the world was easy and I wish I could kiss you". Having an unrequited crush on your best friend but you'll never get over it because how could you after everything you've been through.
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 9 months
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Juvia Reader x RoR
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Since these are for the same character and similar in nature, I’m going to combine these two J
 -You were just a normal human, but your abilities were anything but- being a powerful water magic user, the point where your emotions could affect the weather at times.
-There were many, other humans mainly, who knew you as the Rain Maiden, as it always seemed to be raining when you were around due to your gloomy nature.
-You could also use water magic to protect yourself, turning yourself into water to avoid damage, putting up a dome of water to block attacks or blows, or send your water in powerful blades to lay waste to those who would be foolish enough to attack you.
-There were many in Valhalla who thought you were stunningly beautiful, but your reluctance to interact with others, due to your rough childhood where you had been teased for constantly making it rain, made it difficult for you to interact.
-Many who discovered your power, and your strength grew curious and many challenged you to fights, despite you looking like a delicate maiden, holding an umbrella to shield yourself from your rain.
-You proved yourself to many, easily defeating many without batting an eye or even moving into a combat position and when those you beat were sore losers, you just turned and walked away, whispering to yourself, ‘drip-drip-drop’, mimicking the rain around you.
-Brunnhilde approached you, holding her own umbrella over her head and she spoke kindly to you, asking you to fight in Ragnarok, to defend humanity. You questioned her, “Why should Y/N fight for humanity when humanity has treated Y/N so cruelly?”
-She knew about your odd-ball quirks, such as speaking in third person and making teru-teru bozu dolls with hopes that your rain would finally stop but she knew you were strong, “Because there’s not many that I trust with such an important task, and you’re one of them.”
-You stunned her with a small, gentle smile, feeling happiness at her kind words, before you agreed to fight for humanity, hoping that you would finally be able to stop your rain.
-Brunnhilde knew what she was doing, pairing you against Poseidon, God of the Sea himself, a water god against a water magician, and while many mocked the decision, including Poseidon himself as you had left your umbrella backstage, and the sunny blue sky quickly turned black, thick with rain clouds, threatening to let loose.
-Many believed that Poseidon would easily beat you, but everyone was soon stunned as he couldn’t lay a finger on you, not one strand of your hair was damaged during your fight as you were able to block and counter all of his attacks.
-When Poseidon finally got serious after you managed to severely wound him, including taking off one of his arms, he managed to break through your shield and sliced you clean in half. The cheering gods were quickly shouting in outrage as he turned, watching your body reforming as if it was made out of water itself.
-You lifted your hand and shot out another water blade from it, instantly decapitating him. The humans all cheered, chanting out your name, which surprised you, your eyes a bit wide.
-For once, despite the overhanging clouds, the rain never fell, and were soon gone as soon as you left the arena.
-You didn’t hang around, not wanting it to rain on the crowd or the arena and disrupt anything, returning to your home in Valhalla instead, and waited for this tournament to be over with, one way or another.
-Two days later you realized that humans had prevailed and won their salvation and while you were happy that humanity won and that all those who had been lost were granted their lives back, there was still a gloominess hanging over you, one that brought more rain to your little corner of Valhalla.
-You were walking around one of the many beautiful flower gardens in Valhalla, the rain a gentle drizzle around you, your umbrella shielding you before you heard approaching footsteps, and you turned, seeing a man, one of the fighters approaching you.
 -Jack- Immediately tipped his hat to you as he stopped in front of you, “Is it you that is causing all this lovely rain?” you were surprised at his words, your normally dull eyes becoming bright, “Lovely?” he offered a small smile and a nod, “Yes, without the rain we wouldn’t have such beautiful flowers.” He noticed your elation, seeing the smile on your lips, as you had always been teased about always making it rain, and he seemed to like it. Jack took one of your hands and pecked the back of it gently, introducing himself and he noticed the rain slowly leaving. Jack was stunned to see pink in your soul, showing pure, innocent love, something he had never dealt with before and he was surprised it happened so quickly, before he realized that you probably had a rough childhood as well. The sun slowly came out as he asked if you would go on a walk with him, and your eyes seemed to sparkle, seeing the rainbow above the garden, something that made Jack smile softly as well as you agreed and he offered you his arm, like a gentleman and you took it, holding onto it gently. He felt so complete with you by his side and you felt so happy to be beside him, neither one of you wanted to let the other go.
 -Odin- Seeing one of the strongest gods in Valhalla normally would be intimidated by Odin approaching them directly, and he was honestly surprised that you didn’t look bothered in the slightest. He looked like he was glaring down at you, but you believed that was just his face, “Human- you’re the one who defeated Poseidon are you not?” you nodded and greeted him politely, “Correct, Y/N is the one who beat the sea god.” You were definitely a little bit odd, as Munin, one of his crows, scolded you for talking like a child in third person, but you weren’t bothered, “This is how Y/N has always talked, even when alive. Y/N will not change for anyone.” Your polite but odd mannerisms intrigued Odin, pairing alongside your immense power as well as your effect over the weather made him curious. He reached a hand out for you take, “Will you come with me? I wish to know more about you.” He was not prepared to see your face immediately flush red, your umbrella dropping as your hands came to your mouth, hearing his proposal (to you at least) which caused a minor misunderstanding. Odin found himself growing more and more curious with you.
 -Buddha- He grinned, removing his lollipop from his mouth, “Yo pretty lady! You’re the one they call the rain maiden right?” You turned to face him, as you recognized him as a god, your cheeks turning just a bit pink, as he was very attractive, “That is what they call Y/N, but Y/N’s name is Y/N.” one of his eyebrows lifted, hearing your odd way of speaking, but said nothing about it, his grin growing lightly, “I saw your fight- you’re pretty strong, aren’t you? And you’re making so much fun with all your rain.” You were confused, your head tilting to the side, “Y/N is making fun?” Buddha smiled down at you, seeing that you were a bit oblivious as he held out a hand to you and when you took it, he dragged out after him, pulling you a bit strongly, but not hurting you. He took you to a bridge in the park overlooking a large stone area meant for festivals, and showed you children and adults playing, jumping in the puddles. Your eyes became bright and full of life, as nobody had ever shown you the upside to your rain and Buddha grinned, leaning down on the bridge, leaning his cheek on his hand, seeing the rain clearing up and a rainbow appearing, something you noticed, lowering your umbrella to look up at it in awe. Buddha stood up straight and came to your side, “Rain is a good thing, but it’s what comes after that makes everyone happy.” You looked up at him, seeing him grin down at you before he took your hand, “C’mon, let’s go get come ice cream- my treat!” he had never met someone like you before, one who seemed to pull him in, almost like he was drowning, but he wanted to drown, he wanted to know all there is to know about you, and seeing you happy, made him happy.
 -Nikola- You were thrown off by this handsome man who dropped his own umbrella, looking like a happy dog as he ran over to you, cupping his hands around your free hand, “I’m so happy I found you!!” you blinked in confusion, your eyes dull before they quickly became bright as a flush took over your face, “You are happy you found Y/N?” he nodded, not at all thrown off, introducing himself as Nikola before he began to rapid fire questions at you, as he had seen your fight and wanted to know what type of technology you used to control the water, not believing in magic. That is, until you showed him your spell circles, summoning your magic and even transforming yourself into a water maiden, all while he was writing down notes, there was no possible way that this was a technology being used. You were thrown off by his enthusiasm and his questions as he wanted to know more and more before he took your hand, pulling it to his chest, “Will you come with me?” it was only then, when he saw your bright red face, that he realized how strongly he approached you, a maiden and he leapt back like a spooked cat, his own face turning red as he tried to stammer out an apology. You approached, looking elegant as he became almost frightened, worried that he had offended you as you spoke up to him, “Y/N does not mind going with you. Nikola-sama did ask Y/N on a date after all.” Steam rushed from his head as you took his hand, leading him out of the area as you had rendered him not only thoughtless but speechless as well. You liked this bold man and he wanted to know everything about you. Everything.
 -Hades- Seeing the king of the underworld coming towards you didn’t bother you, let alone scare you, as you weren’t worried that he was going to take revenge, as Poseidon was alive again. He held his umbrella over his head and gave you a grin, “I knew that I would find you if I followed the rain, Y/N.” you turned, bowing your head lightly in reverence, “Is there something that you needed from Y/N, Hades-sama?” Hades wasn’t bothered by your speech, giving you a nod and he surprised you by leaning forward and taking your free hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pecking the back of it, “I came to see you- to thank you. You’ve humbled not only Poseidon, but Zeus as well. Your fight shocked everyone by being the first human to defeat a god, and while he is alive again, I’ve noticed a change in them both, they’re not as arrogant. And I have the lovely Y/N to thank for that.” Your cheeks almost instantly turned red, being referred to as lovely as you stammered bashfully, turning from him, holding your cheek which made him grin, seeing what a pure maiden you were. There was something about you that made him want more, he wanted to be by his side, especially if you could put his younger brothers in their place with ease.
 -Thor- He was silent, letting the rain fall down on his head, his hammer nowhere in sight, as he had left it, as he would need it anytime soon. You approached, lifting your umbrella to shield at least a bit of the rain, “Why don’t you have an umbrella? You will get sick and Y/N will feel bad.” He didn’t answer you, as he wasn’t the most talkative person and you squeaked, your gloomy but stoic façade falling as he easily swept you up into his arms, holding you in the crook of his left arm before you lifted your umbrella to cover the both of you, “Why did you pick up Y/N?” Thor was silent as he began to walk through the garden with you, slowly, as he had noticed you had been looking at the flowers, letting you enjoy them still, just in his arms. The rain slowly stopped as you felt warm, and your eyes widened as the sun came out, showing the bright blue sky, a beautiful rainbow streaking across the sky. Thor watched your face, as if you had never seen the sky or the sun before, it made him curious about you before he finally spoke, getting your attention back on him, “Would you like to get a drink with me?” hearing his question, asking for a date, made your cheeks turn red, amusing him to see one so strong being so shy as you agreed, trying to hide that you were happy. Thor couldn’t wait to learn more about you.
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whumpsday · 3 days
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3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!
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Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.
Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.
Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee
Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.
And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!
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An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.
It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.
Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master
Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.
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The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.
The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.
This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.
Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore
Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death
Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.
that's all I have for now :)
(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)
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Gay wrongs tournament, round one of the losers bracket
Propaganda:
For Kinn and Porsche:
First of all, Mafia prince meets poor boy whom he makes his bodyguard. They are canonically engaged. Some might say they're not that bad, but not only have both killed people without hesitation, they went into scenarios ON PURPOSE knowing what the end result will be. By the end of it all, power couple to the skies but also 2 unrelenting Mafia heads who can and will kill you if you so much as look at their partner wrong.
look the gun tango scene, when they're in the middle of an attempted coup, and they spin around while holding each other and shooting people, is the most iconic thing ever
For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:
you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together
Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."
You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.
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nanomooselet · 3 months
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Little but Fierce
Now, I might be mistaken, but judging by the number of bare pectoral muscles strewn over my dash at any given moment, I'm gonna say Wolfwood is pretty popular? And that's understandable (he's a loser <3) but it's a genuinely terrible shame that Meryl gets overlooked. Especially in Stampede. Orange have done some really amazingly cool things with Meryl.
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And it makes me a little nervous to say so, but I think they only could have done them by detaching her from Milly, at least for a time. Milly's still going to show up and I'm confident from this precedent they'll treat her well, so I'm at peace with her absence for now.
Nightow is unexpectedly good in many ways. He treats sex workers as human, which is a low bar that many nevertheless fail to clear, and my only serious disappointment in Maximum was in how the girls vanished for long periods. I recall an interview where he said something to the effect of being reluctant to put them in harm's way, and while I'm disinclined to take anything Nightow says entirely at face value (I don't think he's a liar, but I do think he has a sense of humour that inclines him to kindly trolling, which I respect), that would line up, I think.
I think Orange are taking the opportunity to remedy this disappointment.
It's exciting. It's the kind of writing for female characters in genre media I've always craved. I will not be silenced on how extremely gay I am for Meryl Stryfe.
Unfortunately that means for this first entry, I'll have to talk about Knives. (Whom I also love, but not in a gay way. More an affectionate revulsion. He's fascinatingly horrible, this man.)
So. I've noticed a distressing tendency for Knives's... really almost anything that ever comes out of his mouth (seriously) to be taken as the honest, objective truth. After all, they didn't call him a villain.
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And what an honest face he has!
As Knives has it:
Vash is pretty, but he's useless without his brother. He's a powerless, weak, pathetically naïve, blubberingly sentimental little baby who doesn't care about the Plants, too busy enabling humanity's abuse via performing his cringing, grasping abasement before them to notice how his brethren suffer. Knives himself is the more powerful (and much less human-like) of the twins; the strongest and most righteous activist for necessary change now that, sadly despite all good faith attempts at communication, non-violent solutions have failed. He truly has only the best and most altruistic intentions: the freedom of his people, and the happiness of his brother.
Here's the problem. This has always been the problem. Every one of the statements in the paragraph above is false. Except the one about Vash being pretty.
Once more with feeling: They are completely untrue. They are supported by literally nothing. All we have is his word that they're true and there's so much existing evidence to disprove his claims that even the thought of compiling it exhausts me.
However, I did say that Zazie is a truth-teller in this story, didn't I? So let's examine some of Zazie's conclusions.
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Now, I've seen reference to the surviving human communities on No Man's Land as "colonisers", and that their treatment of the Plants even before the Fall is analogous to slavery. (My strong suspicion is that Knives is purposefully invoking those comparisons, in fact.) Those are both extremely loaded analogies, culturally and emotionally, and I just want to gently, respectfully caution those who make them against overlooking the more nuanced and purposeful analogies being made. Or maybe should I say, the actual individuals to whom they apply.
Zazie is very careful to say this: Knives told them humans can't be trusted to learn from consuming their home planet. Knives was the one who said humans will have Zazie's planet next, and that only Knives will "use" the Plants correctly - so Zazie should ally with Knives.
Here's what Knives meant by "using the Plants correctly":
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I, uh, think Zazie may have made the wrong call on this one! And that Zazie thinks the same.
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This is what makes the interaction with Wolfwood so funny and sad - the all-knowing, ostensibly unkillable Zazie is freaking the hell out, staggering under the weight of realising just how apocalyptically badly they have fucked up. Wolfwood, who also directly instigated this disaster but under duress, is grimly amused - he did everything he did fulfilling the contract to protect the kids, even as his conviction failed, even though he would rather have died, even after Livio... and thus he personally rendered all his own efforts and sacrifices moot.
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And he's just like, "Heh, yeah. That tracks." This poor boy.
Afterwards, Zazie is confused and even a little saddened that Vash was demonised in the wake of July's destruction. Never let it be said the bug fails to learn from experience: Vash is the one everyone blames? Ah, so he was in fact spectacularly heroic and clever and it's entirely Knives's fault it turned out so badly.
Also, crashing on this specific planet wasn't exactly humanity's choice. Guess whose choice it was.
Go on, guess. Better yet, guess why.
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Yeah. It was also Knives who said to Zazie that both he and Vash crashed the ships... trying to stop us. From doing exactly what Knives tried to do the very instant he got the chance.
The thing is, Knives does everything he can to look like he's right by positioning himself as the most authoritative source, but he isn't ever backed up by like... facts. Or evidence. Or reality. Or anything. Ever. He crowned himself king of the Plants. He speaks and acts for them by divine right, apparently. He didn't take a vote or anything - in his mind it's self-evident only he understands the world, and Vash, and the correct way to use the Plants. Because remember that it's not using Plants he gives a damn about, even using them to death in the Last Run, as long it's him doing it. It's being dependent upon humans; he views providing for our basic survival needs as wasteful and inherently, exclusively parasitic, even if we're helping the Plants to survive in turn. Because it's humans that he's frightened of, and he wants the yucky things gone.
The thing is, when he's not being purposefully manipulative (though Vash is the only one he manipulates in person, probably because Vash is the only one he pays enough attention to for his tactics to be effective) he's being a dense fucking idiot. At very few points do his delusions intersect with reality.
The thing is, Knives is a known, proven, and entirely unrepentant liar. It's the logical extension of the way he gaslights Vash. He is in no way a trustworthy source of information.
All that he says is part of a heroic narrative about being the specialest boy evar that he came up with to avoid taking any blame or responsibility for the consequences of his actions. Knives considers himself perfect, but he's made plenty of mistakes, which I do think he would consider mistakes - among them Rem's death, alienating Vash, cutting off his arm and rendering him disabled, and what I suspect to be the large number of Plants killed in the Fall, along with the ones consumed by the Last Run in the desperation that followed.
So he tells himself... little stories. Inside his head. It's how he reconciles it. It's how he copes.
Basically, if you want to find any truth in anything Knives ever says, look closely at what he says, and believe the opposite.
Now, onto my girl and how completely fantastic she is.
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
Part VIII
Part IX
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bonefall · 3 months
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Honest question, how do you think Clear Sky would react if he got yeeted to the Dark Forest upon death. I've been thinking about this for an AU and I have how I'll do it, but I'm super curious how you'd approach it because I like hearing you talk about the worst man ever
Oh he'd build an empire. Like. Immediately. First couple of cats that fall in with him would end up getting turned into his lackeys.
I lean into the Christian coding a lot but like, unironically, Clear Sky is the sort of dramaturge who could deliver lines out of Paradise Lost without breaking a sweat
Paradise Lost is about how Satan's ego lead him to oppose God, how he justifies hanging onto his anger at having had his ass kicked, and how he rallies all his demons to continue to fight for a lost cause they can't possibly win. Milton basically wrote it to connect that theme to humanity itself, exploring the various ways that Satan and humans aren't so different.
It just feels so right with Clear Sky in mind. Everyone knows the "Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven" line that the speech in Book 1 ends with, but the CONTEXT of Satan's words there is that he's looking at all his fallen allies doing the family guy death post at literally rock bottom, all these people who lost everything by following him, and he's giving them a pep talk.
"Ok yes. It smells like a sulphuric fart, the lights keep flickering, and everything is on fire," says Satan, "But maybe this is a you-problem. I'M this funny little thing called an ✨optimist✨ and you know what? Maybe God never built a minecraft base here because he's the real loser. YOU can say it's hell but you know what I call it? Free real estate babey. NOW LET'S GO FUCK WITH HIM!!!!"
And that's honestly the EXACT way I see Clear Sky reacting to something like that. Like he'd ever just lay down and die?? HELL no. He'd be PISSED that StarClan was SO UNGRATEFUL to him, that they did something so spiteful and unfair. Sure, he Made Some Mistakes, but he had to make HARD choices, and he was NEVER WRONG, and deserves his place being honored.
He might briefly have a moment of self-pity, woefully consider just giving up... but in the end, his damning would make him so mad. He'd want to get back at them as soon as his brief pity party is over (just like he did with One Eye), and he's absolutely incapable of ever NOT bossing other cats around. He just needs one or two goons before he's got a little base of power, and you KNOW that cats like Petal would do anything to go fight by his side again.
So yeah. If you're asking me, sending Clear Sky to the Dark Forest would unironically just result in the devil. And you'd have a great opportunity there, because StarClan SUCKS.
Both sides would be terrible options and you can really expand on the unfairness of WC's afterlife system, and the way that banishing a person like Clear Sky to an eternal prison with other desperate cats just ends up enabling and empowering his worst impulses.
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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months
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Is there a modern Rural or Small Town TTPRG? Without agriculture as a central theme? Maybe something focused on community or the idea of rural? 😳
Theme: Small Town Games
Hello friend, I think I have a few games that might work out for you. Some are collaborative, some are petty, and some are in small towns but the focus in on something a little different.
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Turn, by Beau Jágr Sheldon. @beaujagr
Turn is a slice-of-life, rural supernatural tabletop roleplaying game for three to six people. Players are shape-shifters in a small, rural town--able to turn into animals like raccoons, cougars, and bears. They must balance their human lives and habits with their beast lives and instincts, while pursuing acceptance and community with other shifters - and with the mundane humans and beasts that populate the town. 
Players and the Town Manager build their town together using a unique town building system, and create the characters who populate it and the wilderness around it. Turn uses the Script Change toolbox to support player comfort and consent, and explores themes of identity, community, self care, and otherness.
Turn is a rural game that adds a supernatural twist in that your characters are all shapeshifters. The small town is meant to be a setting that will likely challenge your characters and provide emotional growth. The game itself is written very carefully, with essays sprinkled throughout to help you navigate difficult topics that may arise within the game.
Unincorporated, by Ethan Harvey.
An optimistic person might call this place a town. It has a name, a gas station, a few stores. It just doesn’t have many people. Which makes these other losers still hanging around here important. The same few people are your co-workers, your neighbours, your dating prospects, the folks you run into everywhere.
"Friends" might be a stretch, but they know you. Or at least they know who you used to be. They know about all the stupid things you’ve done, and they won’t let you forget it. Nobody gets a clean slate here. But maybe you can shake off your reputation and become something new.
Unincorporated is a collaborative, mostly-GMless story game for 3-5 players who take on the roles of ordinary people caught up in petty rivalries, long-held grudges, intense frenemyships, and hopeless love affairs, all while trying to shake off the weight of expectations.
If what you really want is small-town drama, this might be the game for you. The basic rules are inspired by Powered by the Apocalypse games, and the settings are flexible - you can use a pre-suggested playlet, or build a setting of your own. This means that the game can also be used alongside another ttrpg, if you want to experience the intricate lives of the town your characters live in alongside their larger-than-life adventures.
The Woman of Sayora Village, by luciellaes.
Your country has been at war for several months now, closing on a year. Your village feels empty. Anyone capable of fighting has long since been taken far from home, leaving more than enough work for those left behind. For some, that work is a welcome distraction from the pain and fear of separation, while for others the added burden is overwhelming enough of itself.
Your village feels different. Most of the departing soldiers were men, and those who remain are mostly women, the young and the elderly. Until it happened, you had never quite grasped what a difference this would make. Toxic behaviours that were once tolerated or even celebrated are now shunned and punished. Feminine rituals and celebrations that had begun to fade into obscurity have seen a startling renaissance. Formerly taboo subjects can be discussed openly in the fields and on the streets.
Perhaps when the war ends, things will return to the way they were. Perhaps not. In the meantime, there remains much work to be done.
This is a very specific setting for a small-town game, namely in that it is about a town during a difficult time, and without almost half of its population. This game is also highly interpretive, because it uses a deck of tarot cards, which you will have to interpret as you draw them. The game is also GM-less, which means that everyone at the table will fill similar roles.
I Went To Bourbon, Indiana Once, by Beth and Angel Make Games.
I Went to Bourbon, Indiana Once is a hack of I Went to Seattle Once by Lucky Newt Games which is itself a hack of I Went to Japan Once by James Lennox-Gordon. As per the original, you are friends, family, or perhaps random strangers bored in line at a gas station who all suddenly realize you've been to Bourbon, Indiana, a small little town without much to do. Did you visit either (or both!) of the town's dollar stores?Check out the town gazebo, a local hangout spot? Or perhaps you hit up the Redbox kiosk and relaxed for the night.
Players roll dice and share experiences blending the results of two separate tables, but once too many players tell the same stories over again (as we Midwesterners are wont to do), everyone goes their own way and the reminiscence concludes.
As a game about the traveler's experience of a small town, rather than a resident’s, I went to Bourbon, Indiana Once may provide a unique take on the theme of small-town games. The game includes a number of prompts to provide you with events that happened during your stay, and that’s about it. I think that would make this game pretty hack-able for any small town that you can dream of - and it might also make this a great mini-game to put inside a larger campaign.
Our Town, by Miles Kirk.
Our Town is a theatrical 1 page tabletop roleplaying game with no dice, no masters.
Players take on the roles of citizens in a small town and play through snapshots of their lives from adolescence, to adulthood, to one of their deaths.The game can be played with 3+ players and can take 2-4 hours depending on the size of the group. It provides the opportunity to explore many different subjects surrounding everyday life; safety tools are strongly encouraged during play.
The creation of the town you live in is essential to the play experience of this game. You’ll come up with some basic details about the layout and buildings of the town, but you’ll also populate it, creating relationships between the residents and following them through a day in their life. Then the game moves out to observe the town in the long-term, asking what happens over the course of 10 years, as well as what happens when prominent characters die. If you want a game that looks at the bigger picture rather than a play-by-play, this might be the game for you.
Little Island Gift Shops, by astoryinpieces.
In this cooperative roll-and-write dice game, 2-4 players are members of the Little Island community, a place that puts helping your neighbors at the front. Each day, they'll decide how much time to spend diving for ocean goods to sell in their individual gift shops on the island. Unused goods are shared with neighbors, or can even be returned to the ocean as decorated gifts in order to receive its blessing. However, Little Island is only bountiful and strong when everyone uplifts each other! So organize your shop carefully, be respectful of your ocean home, and never be afraid to help your neighbour~
This game feels a little bit like a board-game, asking players to weigh decisions of different numbers of dice rolled, as well as strategize to determine which shop owner gets which trinket. The end of the game also asks the players to tally their scores, with the lowest player’s score setting the score for the whole group. As a result, this game should encourage everyone to work collaboratively, in such a way that the community succeeds as a whole.
Games I’ve Recommended in the Past
An Altogether Different River, by ehronlime.
What the Water Gave Us, by Jordanna George.
What’s So Off About This Small Town?, by Ostrichmonkey Games.
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