#copycat writes

[call-me-copycat]

I think I'd like to write more of the rooftop trio, if anyone's interested (・∀<)☆

*Any of them, all of them, it doesn't matter to me (⁠^⁠^⁠)*

[call-me-copycat]

Thanks for the tag @epickiya722 ! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)

Given word: RABBIT

R: Regeneration. That was what destroyed his life. It sounds good, no? That's what everyone believes.

A: And his all-time favorite: DO NOT say "I'm not here to make friends". That last rule only confused you, but you'd listen despite it.

B: But in a way, you couldn't talk yourself out of admiring the special beauty the building held. The rising sun caused the tiles to glisten, and the snow surrounding the school was undisturbed and sat like powdered sugar. It was a scenic view even you understood to value.

B: "Bah! Tokyo's cool and all but where's the love for the small towns?" Shirakumo mumbled through his full mouth, clearly playing into his act due to his smile giving him away.

I: "It's off, he's acting funky." Hizashi explained, his hands in his pockets as he walked next to Oboro, their senior Nemuri leading the way. Or Midnight, as she's been calling herself lately. She'd recently taken a liking to her new Hero name.

T: To him, it seemed infinitely better than going to see some hunk of dusty, moldy concrete in the middle of the woods.

This was very very hard, harder than I thought it would be (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) Most of my sentences start with "Y" , "H" , "W" , "A" and "I" (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

Anyways, the word I'll choose will be HERO (⁠◠⁠ᴥ⁠◕⁠ʋ⁠)

Tagging: @smashley351 @geekandafreak @2soul2 @tastelessleather @faededaway @blu-stars-blog @bookvvitch + anyone I forgot about or writes! (*^▽︎^)ﾉ

Acrostic Tag Game

Rules: Given a word, find a sentence in your WIP that starts with each letter!

Given word was NIGHT. Tagged by @annadante Thanks!! 💜

🖋

N: Nobara rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Ugh, I know. But it sucks. Man, when will this curse wear off?"

I: "I call bullshit! You nearly killed a man today!"

G: "Grade two. They should be fine though and I reckon they'll be back in no time. They're both ranked considerably high enough to handle it. It's been about two hours since they left, so I give or take another hour before they make it back."

H: Hopefully, it just takes that longer. Maybe even sooner.

T: "That doesn't mean he has romantic feelings for me. Just... possessive ones?"

TAGGING: @call-me-copycat @sanguineerose @orchidbutch @uriekukistan @alonelystargazer

And anyone else who wants to!

The word is RABBIT.

[jumped-for-the-yaoi]

it’s like a ‘Getting To Know You’ game with the guy you committed identity theft on

wordcount: 1,755 words

i don’t even know if this is in character anymore this is probably wildly ooc but i just needed to get the wemmro brainrot out of my system. I wrote this all in one sitting btw

__________________________________________

Wemmbu shows up unannounced at spawn one cold, breezy night. And, by some dumb coincidence, Ro is there too.

She’s only managed to gather some of the materials needed for the Sticklers’ base before the sound of soft footfall on grass alerts her to someone approaching.

Ro freezes, wings still lifted with half a mind to flee. He’s at, what, four hearts? There’s no way he could take a fight right now and win.

There’s a beat of tense silence. No one moves.

Finally, the newcomer gives a polite cough, his tone a little amused and a little teasing. “Yo, Roshambo. Hello? You afk or something?”

Ro recognises that voice, and he’s… Less than thrilled about who it is. But he braces himself and turns to face Wemmbu anyway, with his arms full of shulkers and a tense smile on his face. “Yo, hey.”

“Hey.” Wemmbu doesn’t move to jump her or drive a sword into her gut. He just… Stands there, holding some black concrete Ro had dropped on the ground earlier. He’s standing in the shadow of a building, hugging a thick cape around himself. “What’chu up to?”

“Not much. Building stuff for Rek,” she answers vaguely. She sets down some of the shulkers, switching them out for strength pots just in case.

Wemmbu’s head tilts, waiting for her to continue. When she doesn’t, he just nods. “Mhm. Okay. Cool.”

He steps forward, and Ro takes a step back, reaching for her sword—

—but Wemmbu just opens one of her shulkers, rummaging through it and examining the contents. Something disappears into his inventory — one of the decorative flowers she had stored in there, probably — and he laughs at her, almost giddy. “You’re so jumpy, bro, chill.”

“Okay, man.” Ro huffs a sigh, heading toward Mapicc’s castle to collect some of the shulkers he’d left behind. Like a stray cat, Wemmbu follows a good distance behind her.

He doesn’t stop yapping, either. “You’re wearing my old armour trims,” Wemmbu remarks out of the blue. His tone is only curious and somewhat thoughtful, but Ro tenses anyway. “It can’t be my taste in trims that’s inspiring you to copy me.”

“Not exactly,” Ro replies, absentmindedly sorting items while still keeping a careful eye on Wemmbu. “It’s not… Important.”

Wemmbu hums, stepping closer to steal more stuff from Ro’s shulkers. “Really now? It must be, like — I feel like you wear my armour trims around more than I do at this point, bro.”

“I mean, you’re not around much,” Ro points out. She examines him, head tilting. “Weren’t you banned after the spawn war? By Flame?”

“Yeah. He killed me after I was revived, too,” Wemmbu replies nonchalantly, waving a hand. There’s a glint in his eyes and the smallest sliver of a smile in his voice, but it’s gone in an instant. “You know, average Lifesteal activities.”

Ro stares, and he finds it so utterly fascinating how he can't read Wemmbu at all. But he just nods, turning back toward the shulkers. “How many hearts are you on?”

There’s a brief pause. Then Wemmbu laughs, a soft chortle of amusement. He sounds different up close: there’s still a hint of danger in his voice, but he sounds softer than the ruthless reputation he’d established for himself. “Ten thousand. Or, actually, more like one.”

Ro stops dead in her tracts, staring at him in astonished disbelief. “You’re on one?”

“Yup.” He’s grinning still, leaning on his sword like he wasn’t just the smallest mistake away from being deathbanned again. “Is it not obvious?”

“Not really, no.” Ro frowns, wings puffing up a little in alarm. “You’ve been keeping to the shadows this whole time.”

Wemmbu giggles, smiling a little wider. “Yeah, that’s, like. Intentional and all. Here.”

He steps into the pale moonlight, and Ro stops. For a long, long moment, she just stares.

It was never a word she thought she’d describe Wemmbu as, but right here, right now, he looked… Ordinary. More like a person than a god.

Her eyes trace down the blooms of orange flowers, dotting down his arms and over him. They grow over a glowing scar in his abdomen, still faintly pulsing with his heartbeat.

His tiara is cracked, and there are scorch marks that mar its usually pristine surface. The hearts usually set into his sleeves are gone, leaving only the golden framing still attached.

He looks… Well, not weak. Just human.

The moment quickly dissipates as Wemmbu pulls the cloak around himself, straightening up until he’s exuding confidence again. “So, yeah.”

Ro blinks at him, taking a moment to process everything and regain his ability to speak properly. “Doesn’t that… Bother you, though? Like, what do you even do at one heart? Don’t you want more?”

“I mean, yeah? But I did do everything I wanted to do this season, so,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care. Mainly I just hibernate under spawn or fuck around with Derap and Zam, but I just go hang out elsewhere if I’m bored.” He fidgets with one of the yellow ribbons in his hair, a gilded sun charm set into it. “It’s not that bad.”

Ro hums a little. “I mean, I suppose, yeah. So you’re just… Okay with being deathbanned if that ever happens?”

“I guess, yeah,” Wemmbu laughs, picking out one of the flowers from his hair. “I’ve done everything I wanted to, y’know. I’ve had my fun and all.”

A pause. “It’s funny how I spent a week invis pretending to be you just so that I could borrow your reputation. Your power,” Ro comments, glancing around Mapicc’s tower. Aside from some player activity, it’s back to its mint condition. “And now…”

“And now I’m powerless and everything?” Wemmbu finishes for her, a grin still on his face. “Yeah. It’s fine, though. I still have my aura.”

Ro laughs a little too, relaxing. “Guess I’ll have to try harder to take your aura next time.”

“You can try, bro.” Wemmbu looks around the castle, eyebrows lifting a little as he catches Ro doing the same. “You literally impersonated me for a week, right?”

“…A little bit, yeah,” Ro replies, her tone a little sheepish. She did frame him for a lot of things he didn’t do… “No hard feelings?”

“Bro. I should’ve killed you a few times as compensation or something.” Wemmbu shakes his head, vibrant purple eyes catching hers. “I can’t believe you did that, bro, that’s crazy. You’re that obsessed with me?”

Ro flushes, mostly from embarrassment. Not at all from anything else. “Okay, bro, whatever—“ Wemmbu just laughs at him.

“I mean, you spent so much time obsessing over me,” Wemmbu continues, ignoring Ro’s spluttered indignation, “do you even know what my favourite colour is?”

“Hmm.” Ro takes a moment to take in the figure standing in front of him, with neon purple hair, nearly fully purple amethyst trims, and formal attire swathed in purple, fitted neatly underneath his cloak. “Let me guess. Purple?”

Wemmbu gasps a little, eyes widened for extra exaggerated effect. “How’d you know?”

Ro shrugs, stifling a laugh at the admittedly stupid joke. “Eh, I just had a hunch.”

He sits down on a nearby chest, head propped on his hands as Ro blinks at him. “What’s my favourite flower, then?”

She hesitates. “…The ones growing on you right now?” She guesses. “I don’t remember the name.” The shulkers at his feet sit long forgotten, and so do the strength pots still in his inventory. Whatever he’s trying to do is infinitely better than being jumped.

“You’d be… Correct! It’s an orange tulip, yeah.” Wemmbu cheers a little, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He leans in a little, like he’s treating Ro to some secret. “Do you know why it’s my favourite?”

She shakes her head a little, staring back at him. “Is it like a you and Derap thing, or…?”

Wemmbu shrugs, looking up at the stars. “Kind of. It’s the flower I had from the start of the server, when I got stranded in a cave and stuff. Actual trenches.”

“Dang.” Ro can’t help but smile a little. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“Okay, that’s because I’m not.” He giggles, plucking the petals off one of the soft tulips. “They were just what I was buried with.”

And. Well. Ro doesn’t even know what to say to that. Luckily, Wemmbu fills in the gap in the conversation seamlessly, gesturing for Ro to sit next to him. “Sooooo. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, man. Where do I start…”

Their talk afterwards is still guarded, of course: Ro never tells him much about Jumper and Rek, but indulges him when he asks about her past builds and experiences. Wemmbu just listens, occasionally butting in with ridiculous jokes and quips that Ro returns right back.

Wemmbu never tells her who he was meeting off the server either, though there was always a giddy look in his eye whenever he spoke about them. Ro teases him for it. Wemmbu just rolls his eyes.

They talk. They laugh. They talk more. Ro builds some kind of parkour in Mapicc’s castle for the hell of it, and Wemmbu almost bans himself on it because, quote end-quote, “he’s bored”. She’s never heard Wemmbu laugh so much before, and the sound is even sweeter in such close proximity.

But everything comes to a close eventually, and by the end of it all, the sun is already beginning to rise.

Wemmbu looks up to the lightening sky and sighs. “Welp. Looks like I should head out soon before people come back to spawn. Nice to meet you, Roshambo.”

Ro glances at him incredulously, getting up to leave as well. “Nice to meet…? Bro, you know me. And I know you, too — we’re not, like. Strangers.”

“You knew my name and who other people perceive me as,” Wemmbu points out. “That’s not really knowing me, is it?”

She thinks for a moment. “Well. I guess not, yeah.”

Wemmbu’s nose wrinkles a little, and he rummages through an ender chest for an elytra. “Bro, are you not gonna say it back? C’mon…”

Ro huffs a small laugh. “Alright, alright. Nice to meet you too, Wemmbu.”

“Hell yeah. Okay, bye.” He shakes open a pair of scaly wings, jet black and shimmering with enchantments. “See you, bro.”

Ro waves him off with a small smile, turning back toward his own shulkers. “See you, Wemmbu.”

[bunnis-monsters]

So a little update on @/thatonewerdio

She pretty much just reworded the first paragraph instead of taking it out like I asked. This is still really disrespectful and it’s STILL copying me!!

Also… “human generator” just say that you still wanted to rip me off and didn’t have the creativity to do so without copying me completely 💀

Anyways, monster fucker community, ESPECIALLY writers, I suggest you go and check if that person has copied your work too. Usually if they’ve copied one person, they’ve copied more.

Please report their naga post, since it copies me!

[unhinged-domestic-raccoon]

Miraculous Rewatch Where I Overanalyze Everything: Copycat

Warning! The last point on this post gets salty! It's appropriately marked.

Hang on hang on hang on. So Marinette says "I know who'll have Adrien's number!" and then she immediately calls Alya. Now. I'd like to know why Alya has Adrien's number in this episode. This is well before DJWifi gets together. She's not really friends with Nino at this point in time. Not more than she's friends with anybody else in the class anyways. Like, watching it back in retrospective, my first thought was "oh she probably got it from Nino," but even without my weird Netflix order, this is still extremely early in the show, and she and Nino really don't hang out that much.

As a kid, I think I assumed what's actually happening here: Alya's just a real social butterfly. She's gregarious and nice and never knows when she's gonna need to interview someone for her journalism stuff, so she makes sure to keep in good contact with everybody. This is as opposed to Marinette who, while friendly enough, is anxious and weird and also actually has a sort-of job (helping her parents in the bakery), and gets picked on by Chloe and Kim and Sabrina, so she's less integrated into the group.

Anyways, possibilities for Alya & Adrien friendship here!

Continued Under the Cut:

Remember what I said about Marinette being an extremely relatable 15 year old? Yeah. I would and have thrown my phone after having to leave a scary voicemail. Even if I did okay. I just want that thing out of my sight. No more people-ing, it's the worst.

ADRIEN'S PHONE BACKGROUND IS A PICTURE OF HIM AND NINO!!!!

This is too cute! Adrino nation rise, you have been summoned! This is a level of cuteness that even Alya and Marinette don't have (at least not yet)---we know from Mr. Pigeon that Alya's background is a bunch of ladybugs and Marinette's is a sewing collage.

Adrien laughing and whooping to himself while he jumps across the rooftops as Chat is precious to me. Just an amazing character moment. He really enjoys being Chat Noir, even when there's not necessarily anybody to be performing for.

(Sorry for the blurry paused screenshot lol)

So hang on wait. If the fencing class takes place AT the school, does that mean Adrien was coming here for fencing even when he was homeschooled? I mean, that absolutely makes sense---plenty of homeschoolers joined us for extracurriculars in my high school. But this does interest me, because it means Adrien isn't as isolated and new to this whole "school" thing as I think we all assume. He already has acquaintances that go to the same school as him. He could absolutely be eating lunch with the fencing club.

This just makes it even more baffling to me that it feels like the only person Adrien is at all close with is Nino. Even if he's not allowed to go to any parties or hang out sessions, you still talk during practice. They've got to know some stuff about him. More than a lot of the class does. I mean I know why they don't---having a second large cast of colorful and fleshed out side characters is a huge waste of time in the story and of the animation budget. But it's still really jarring that all of these people are just. Completely ignored. In fanon and canon.

IDK guys, I just feel like this needs to come up at some point. We need to take a bunch of extras and OCs and throw them on the fencing club.

WOW! The absolute DISRESPECT Theo has for Chat! He fully just sculpted a statue of Ladybug STANDING ON TOP OF HIM! If that isn't a backhanded compliment, I don't know WHAT is.

Hmmmm, this is interesting. So for context, my favorite episode of Miraculous is Oblivio, which I have watched I think 6 or 7 times. In that episode, Marinette does a trick where she breathes on the phone to see the fingerprint swipe glare from the unlock screen. I feel like it's exactly this incident that made her think ahead and learn that trick. She does try to learn from situations!

Oh my gosh, Alya being completely chill with thievery is extremely funny to me! Look at her face when Marinette says she stole Adrien's phone and when she says Chat just robbed the Louvre! She is not at all scandalized, just excited. This is actually hilarious, and not really a character trait I would have given her, but she does have 3 sisters, so it kind of makes sense. Getting her stuff stolen is probably pretty ordinary and not a big deal, as long as they give it back. I love this about her so much, this is great.

Plagg, my beloved, my favorite smelly cheese gremlin. I feel that in my soul. Getting dragged away from relaxing with a yummy snack because you have to go to work is the worst. And his little face! Someday Plagg. Someday you will actually be successful at eating your cheese.

Roger being the face of the ACAB movement again! "Let the professionals handle it." WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE IS!!!??? We know Marinette isn't exactly a well-trained superhero, but HE certainly doesn't! And even if he did, and even if Chat did commit the crime: That is still a superhero with superpowers! You seriously think a bunch of regular dudes are gonna be able to handle him? Clearly not! He demonstrates that they very clearly cannot! Ladybug IS the professional in this situation! I know she has demonstrated MULTIPLE times at this point that she is the professional! Stop being a stuffed-up self-righteous egotistical twit!

Sorry, I think I may have lied in my masterpost when I said I don't hate any of the characters in this show. I hate Roger <3. They could never make me like you Roger <3.

(I mean, I know I lied because Su-Han exists and I hate him on every conceivable level, but he's in one and a half episodes, he doesn't count).

That was so smooth! "I'm clearly better than him," PSSHHH. Our boy just needed to get you off-guard for two seconds before he owned you. More of this please. I like it when Chat just absolutely wrecks shop with the akumas, it's always funny.

Speaking of getting owned! When the duo fights this guy they don't just beat him, they come for his whole career! Gotta humiliate him by stringing him up on the ceiling too! And they are smiling and laughing during this whole scene.

This is actually a pretty regular feature of the show that does NOT come up in fandom enough: LadyNoir are SAVAGE to the akumas because they know they're gonna get their memories wiped! They can be as mean and judgemental as they want as long as the person doesn't remember that. I wish there was more content out there (canon or fanfic) of the later heroes just being super shocked when LadyNoir gets mean. Just like "did they really just say that? Are we allowed to say that?"

I gave you one for Adrino, I'll give you one for DJWifi too. Look at the way Nino is looking at her! He thinks he's so charming! And you can't really see because of the angle, but Alya's body language indicates that she's absolutely reciprocating. They're so coy and cute with each other.

[SALT WARNING FOR THE REST OF THE POST]:

So this episode left me asking: What is even the moral? Because this is a show targeted at children, every episode is supposed to have a lesson that the kids can learn from. The creators have explicitly stated that this is part of their formula. (Word of God is that Marinette specifically has to make a mistake she learns from in every episode, but that's one: a stupid rule since it makes you hate your lead and two: absolute bullshit that they're clearly not following because she didn't really make any mistakes in Stormy Weather OR Mr. Pigeon. Events just happened around her).

So far, the moral's been pretty explicitly stated: In Mr. Pigeon, it's that cheaters never prosper. In Timebreaker, it's that your responsibilities are yours and yours alone to handle, and you shouldn't shirk them or hand them off to other people.

While less explicitly stated, Stormy Weather is about how we don't always get what we want and that's a fact of life we'll all just have to deal with (Alya repeatedly tells Manon no, Aurore gets akumatized over losing the competition, and Marinette doesn't get to do her photo-shoot with Adrien in the end, all of which are painted as a "well that's tough kid, but life must go on" situation).

The Bubbler is one that tries to deliver a moral, but it falls flat. It pretty explicitly states that the lesson is "kids need adults, adults protect and love and take care of children." This is screwed up by the fact that the most relevant adult to the discussion is Gabriel Agreste, to whom this does not apply. The episode tries to paint Marinette lying to make him seem like he loves Adrien as a good thing, but I think we're all aware that it's absolutely not. That's a whole horror story waiting to happen. Adrien deserves to know that his father does not care about him, because that helps him recognize that when his father ignores him, it's not okay and he deserves better.

This episode is another example of one where I think they tried to deliver a moral, but the writers just really didn't handle it well. A lot of the romantic hijinks that happen on this show---including behavior that would be appalling irl---are played for comedy. And that's perfectly fine. A lot of these moments that the saltdom latched on to, like Marinette knowing Adrien's entire schedule for how many years from now, aren't even reasonably possible. It's absurd enough that you know you're supposed to laugh at it.

This is the first episode that tries to seriously address the ways people can be unhealthy when they're in love. Theo and Chat's jealousy get Theo akumatized, and Chat lying about his relationship with Ladybug is the inciting incident. Theo's extremely creepy entitled fan dialogue is played as a bad thing, not a comedic thing. Marinette says in this episode:

"Liars are losers." The message you are supposed to get from this episode is that jealousy gets you nowhere and neither does lying. If you want a proper shot at romance, it requires honesty and communication.

But here's the thing: Marinette lies in this episode to further her romantic chances PLENTY and it's treated as a good thing. She spends this episode stealing Adrien's property to delete an embarrassing voicemail, and she never tells him about this. Her genius plan for returning his phone is to lie and say she found it on the ground, and the show treats this as an absolutely great idea! There is nothing wrong with Marinette stealing his phone!

And I have sympathy for Marinette in universe! Of course I do, I'd probably resort to something similar if I left a humiliating voicemail like that! Trying to get rid of some embarrassing evidence is an extremely different level of "crime" than lying to someone about being in a relationship because of jealousy and includes far less malice.

But if the moral of this episode is supposed to be "liars are losers," and that honest communication is the key, then why would you have Marinette lie and fail to honestly communicate in the same episode, and treat it as a good thing? It makes her come off as pretty hypocritical, and in general, I feel this episode invites comparison between Marinette and Chat, who are protagonists, and Theo who is supposed to come off as a bad crazy fan, which isn't exactly great, because now all of Marinette's silly salivating over Adrien and Chat's silly flirting with LB is being compared to a situation that's played seriously and uncomfortably.

This could be grounds for something good and interesting: if they were setting up Marinette's lies as a character flaw with plans to address it later, then this could definitely be something, but nobody calls her out on this, not even herself. Everyone says it's a great idea and congratulates her for it.

And while that does create really fun character traits (Alya being super chill with theft is a goldmine of fanfic fuel), it also means that this episode fails to set up lying as a character flaw for Marinette (even though it's absolutely one she has. Ironic given her hatred of liars). Just like it does in the Bubbler. It confuses the moral and just makes the lead come off as a bit of an asshole who escaped karma is all.

I don't know, it's possible that I'm letting my general opinion of the show and my experience with their ability to develop characters color my perception of this episode and that I'm. . . well. . .overanalyzing. This episode is overall pretty harmless. It's not like Chameleon or the Season 4 and 5 finales or anything where it seriously messes up the course of the story. But it's another straw in the stack of episodes with writing that just generally fails to achieve what it was trying to do and is indicative of the greater problems in this show.

Phew! Alright, salty time over, we'll be back to fun hijinks in the next episode right? Right? *checks episode list* Oh god, it's Pharoah. Welp, at least that one will come with me getting to research and share a bunch of REAL facts about ancient egypt!

[thisiswasabis]

Guys, would you still love me if I wrote a fic about Apo and Cherri, which is basically a retelling of their cowboy povs in my style

[selenophyyy]

Plagiarism: The Headstone of Creativity and Ethics

It’s always disappointing to see how some people confuse copying with creating. Original work takes time, thought, creativity and integrity—all those things copycats can't get their head wrapped around and want shortcuts through someone else's hard work.

Don't take someone else's craft and mold it into what you like. It's not tribute, it's a theft—which is disrespectful to author, characters, story and even audience themselves.

Furthermore, there's a clear difference between inspiration and imitation with rephrasing sentences with some additional adjectives. Don't be a silly goose.

I hope the people who leach off others' work have awful diarrhea, stub their toe and always have classic bad Mondays every week till they realize and erase their unethical scribbles.

And to copycat(s): c'mon, don't be a coward now. You didn't think twice copying it so maybe it is time to make up for that now. Be brave by showing us your empty document history just filled with Ctrl C and Ctrl V and tons of rephrased second-hand sentences!

[thepersonalwords]

Stay true to yourself. An original is worth more than a copy.

Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

[seilon]

for real though why the fuck would the shooter have 10K in cash on him? like what would that have to do with anything. to my knowledge he wasn’t caught on camera robbing the ceo or something + the gun was (allegedly) a ghost gun potentially 3D printed ie; bought/put together in parts, not something that’d require a single large sum of money. cash to up and flee the country? then why was he (allegedly) at a mcdonalds in the same part of the US in the aftermath. why wouldn’t he be fucking Gone. what does the 10K have to do with anything. the nypd is just betting on the public being like oh 10K in cash??? that’s damning because Large Amount Of Money Suspicious. don’t think about it too hard tho. this case has practically just started and it’s already so stupid

[captainkingsley]

“You're asking me to … intrude on your relationship.” Logan says. Wade groans.

“We're asking you to join it, Logan. That's not intrusion. It's an invitation.”

—

Logan has a lot of regrets from his past timeline. Wade and Vanessa are there to make sure he knows he's loved, anyway.

rated explicit, wade/logan/vanessa poly ship fic

[peacerisendove]

Once again I’m complaining about Bernard’s current characterization and random decision to make him a chef of all things/how he is currently a watered down milquetoast white boy. I still don't think it makes sense for him as a character, but I am suggesting my own solution on how Bernard being a chef could work while also rewriting how Tim and Bernard reconnect.

At the least if you want to make him a chef and still pull from his original (and honestly actual) personality at-least make a bit of an unhinged and maybe depressed chef as he tries to find himself. Like give him a bit of The Bear energy.

One of the things about Bernard was that he was a social chameleon. He could make himself fit in, in a lot of places, but that also opens up him to not really knowing who he is in himself. Which plays so well with being a chef. While in culinary school you might think you’re on top of the world, but beyond that you have to find yourself, you question your skills, whether your cooking is up to snuff, how you compare to other people/chefs, their skills, and their food constantly, and of course there’s multiple strong egos in a kitchen which you have to contend with.

I feel like chefs are fraught with identity issues and that could work so well with Bernard because he would also be searching for himself concurrently as he pursues Tim or figures out his sexuality/attraction towards Tim.

I think instead of the cult angle in Batman: Urban Legends that brings Bernard and Tim back together and them already knowing definitively that they are bisexual and pretty much immediately jumping into a relationship in subsequent comics, I think it should have been more exploratory and organic on both of their parts, and that while Bernard what sort of chef he is and his basis for cooking, he is simultaneously figuring out himself and who he is. His lack of knowing himself is reflected in his cooking, and that while he's figuring out himself his sexuality, and reconnecting with Tim (and they're going through a reconnecting period and dancing around flirting with each other) this development of himself and beginning notes of knowing who he is as an individual is reflected in his food.

So, yeah, my answer is basically make Bernard a bit depressed and and have him in an exploratory state where he's trying to find his own identity not only as a chef, but in his own personal life (which in turn is reflected in his cooking). And instead of things being all cookie-cutter neat and him having an established relationship with Tim, we instead get to see them both in an exploratory state of figuring out who they are as people, their sexuality, and their feelings toward each other as they reconnect.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

stop dreading it (turnaround)

you are going to break and that’s okay. it’s just an opportunity to put things back together. everyone loves a puzzle, don’t they?

[jumped-for-the-yaoi]

i fear this admiration will be the end of me

wordcount: 1,324 words / tw for uhm. stabbing?

okay so. I’m back in the fucking building again. @pancake-x2 made this SICK wemmro art a few days back and I don’t think I’ve been normal since. have some incoherent toxic wemmro . These FREAKS slash pos

__________________________________________

Ro stands on the outskirts of the battlefield in the aftermath of the war.

Cobwebs and blood and scattered remains of unlooted items are strewn across the grassy plains, and everything is silent. Most of the server’s members have logged off or have long retreated to their own bases, and Ro finds herself still standing here, alone.

Or, well. She thought she was alone. There’s the unmistakable sound of an elytra’s sweeping wings, accompanied by a flurry of firework rockets and the sharp taste of gunpowder in the air not far away.

An elytra is swept back into an inventory. Footsteps approach, slow and confident.

There’s nothing useful left on the battlefield to scavenge for, and no one else visible in the open. Whoever is here is looking for her.

Ro doesn’t try to run or turn around, but he fights the urge to splash another bottle of invis. (The armour she wears still glitter with linings of amethyst. For the first time, she feels more vulnerable with them on than off.)

“Oh hello there, Roshambo,” a voice purrs behind her, smooth and lilting and far too close for her liking. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Nothing much,” Ro shrugs a little, keeping her voice still and uninterested. “You?”

“Not much,” Wemmbu echoes back with a laugh. “Yeah, uhm. I just killed, like, the entire server. No big deal.” He pauses meaningfully. “I was looking for you, actually.”

Ro hums in reply, tensing a little. He turns away, keeping a sliver of Wemmbu in his periphery just in case. “Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Wemmbu leisurely walks in a circle, repositioning himself so that he stands directly in front of Ro. “I just wanted to have a little- a little chat, you know what I mean?”

There’s a glint in his eyes, one of curiosity and intrigue but also something deadly. Ro swallows.

When she doesn’t say anything, Wemmbu continues. “I just thought I’d come back and collect some cobs or something,” he starts conversationally. “What was it, like, a 5v20? I was lowkey drained, I’m not even gonna lie.”

Ro just hums in response, watching as Wemmbu steps closer. His black wings seem to swallow the light, crowding her vision.

“Anyways. I came back, saw you here, and remembered, like, you had the same armour trims, right?”

“…Yeah.” It’s uncanny how similar they look right now, sunlight bouncing off diamond. Ro’s wings curl around herself. Wemmbu’s stretch outward, a leisurely sort of ease to his movements.

“Yeah!” He’s smiling, one hand reaching out to brush the golden circlet drawn into her helmet — a near exact copy of his own. Ro barely stops himself from flinching away. “ I thought I’d just come and say hi. See what you’re doing with this little masquerade of yours.”

“I told you, it’s literally nothing,” Ro responds slowly, keeping his voice smooth and unbothered.

Wemmbu tilts his head at her. “Was blowing up Mapicc’s castle part of that nothing? Or killing Planet?” He leans back with an affected yawn. “Kinda unfair that I got framed for that, lowkey.”

“I needed to borrow your reputation,” Ro shrugs, heart pounding. “My bad, I guess.”

“You didn't just borrow my reputation, though. I’d say you added to it, too,” Wemmbu corrects him, something warm and pleased in his tone. “And, like, I needed gear anyways, so. You did a pretty damn good job.”

The comment makes something indiscernible burn in Ro’s chest, a mix of pride and confusion and deep-set discomfort. Her disguise had always felt borderline suffocating and downright wrong at times — so then why did Wemmbu’s words make her feel so right?

“I liked your cute little game,” he continues, voice smoother than silk. “It flatters me, really, how much effort you put into this. You know — if I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve thought I had a worshipper instead of a sabotager.”

Wemmbu flicks a hand through his hotbar. “But you were being pretty annoying, I’m not gonna lie. Destroying and killing in my name. Making all those statues of me at spawn. You know.”

Though his tone is still carelessly casual, there’s something different in his gaze now — something darker and mischievous. Something’s changed in his poise, and it leaves Ro wary.

He takes a step back. This time, Wemmbu follows, taking a step forward. Then another.

Then another, until he’s standing close enough for her to see her own frozen expression in his eyes. He smiles, serene and cold. “I think you owe me one.”

And then there’s a sword materializing in Wemmbu’s hands.

Distantly, he hears the sound of flesh tearing and the unmistakable bubbling of blood. The world tilts, and Ro curls forward with a gasp as Wemmbu’s sword skewers him precisely through his ribs.

He’d missed her heart deliberately, that much was obvious. He’s still conscious — starbursts of pain quickly sharpen to agonizing stabs with every movement. He feels all of it.

She stumbles on her feet, and Wemmbu catches her, one hand on her collar barely holding her upright. His grip is soft, almost gentle, if not for everything else.

“Hmm.” Wemmbu watches as his wings flap weakly, and he all but coos at him. One bloodied hand grips his chin, tilting his head up — Ro goes with it, too weak to protest. “I think you owe me, like, a heart, y’know? Just a little payment, nothing personal. You know how it is.”

Ro laughs feebly, head spinning. Wemmbu traces a thumb over her lip, and she swallows, tasting her own blood. “Bro — you don’t even need the heart.”

Wemmbu shrugs, a small smile on his face as he leans in. “Yeah, I mean. What if I do? In any case, I’ll keep this one for sentimental purposes.

“Okay, so that’s just—“ he cuts himself off with a cough, head spinning from the blood loss. The movement jolts the sword still very much skewered through him, and he chokes back a noise of pain. “—unfair.”

“I’m not one for fair, y’know? I’m one for fun.” Wemmbu tugs him forward a little too harshly, and this time Ro can’t stop the little pained gasp that slips out.

There’s something in the way he’s watching her, all fascinated and curious — it’s like he’s practically drinking in her fear. It’s fucking her up more than a little bit, if Ro is going to be honest. (She blames the sudden lightheadedness that hits her on blood loss. That's… Definitely the only reason.)

Wemmbu’s yapping about something that Ro honestly does not have the mental capacity to comprehend right now. His eyes slip shut as he sinks fully into Wemmbu’s grasp, and the idea of him being the only thing holding her up doesn’t alarm her as much as it probably should.

Then the sharp ring of a communicator cuts through the muffled static in her ears, and her eyes flit open. Wemmbu groans.

“Well, guess that’s my cue to get going,” Wemmbu pouts, taking those glittering purple eyes off of him for the first time since the beginning of this exchange.

Ro laughs, a shaky sound that’s more of a weak intake of breath than anything. “Okay, man.”

“I hope you had your fun, Roshambo.” Her vision swims, but she can hear the smile in his voice. “Pleasure talking to you.”

He replies with something intelligible along the lines of see you. Or maybe fuck you, or something. In any case, Wemmbu seems to take it as a cue that their talk was over.

In one fluid motion, he pulls the sword out and stabs it back through her heart. It’s quick enough that the pain instantly dulls back to a numb fuzziness as her senses fail, one by one.

The last thing he sees is Wemmbu’s smile, somehow smaller and real — and keeps it with him as the world goes blissfully dark.

[kukkakisu]

Lend me your life.

Words; 1455 Content warnings; Death, thoughts of death/self-harm, abandonment, descriptions of a mask attaching itself to an employee A look into CC's last moments alive before he turned into a Masked.

-----

How long had it been?

Keeping track of time was the least of CC's concerns, yet when there was nothing but the silence of the mansion walls to keep them company, they couldn't help but wonder. How much time had passed? Hours? Days?

Their fingers pressed against the colorful Rubix cube they had picked up some time ago, turning it idly as they stared at the ceiling. There was no intent to solve it, it was just a distraction to occupy their mind. To give them something to do. Something to focus on.

It was strange to notice how small things became so important to your survival, once you were stuck in a grim situation. Even so, CC was nearing their limits.

At first, they had tried to find their crewmates. They had felt worried, but after some time that worry morphed into fear. Even so, they wanted to believe in them and not lose hope. Surely they wouldn't have left them here? I mean, nobody would just abandon a new intern on a desolate moon, right? And even if there was a reason for them to leave, they'd come back. They'd…

The movement of CC's hands stopped and the cube slipped, clattering lightly as it fell on the wooden floor. Who were they kidding? They weren't coming and they knew that damn well. As CC lay still, they felt their chest get uncomfortably tight. Tears made their way up to their eyes and they struggled to keep them from pouring down. There wasn't even anyone to hear them cry, yet they wanted to hold it in so badly-- just to prove to the others that they were strong enough. Capable of doing more than just messing up.

CC knew their crew was likely disappointed with them. They made a lot of mistakes and weren't as quick, efficient, or strong as the rest. CC couldn't do as much as they did. No matter how much they had tried, it just wasn't enough. Maybe they had finally lost their patience and decided to leave them here so they could find someone new… Not that CC would get to know what they thought now.

They had oxygen but… For how long? And what about food and water? Not to mention the stories of dangerous creatures that could be lurking inside this mansion. No matter how they looked at it, they weren't making it out alive.

It was a scary thought. Yet at the same time, it was something they were starting to hope for. Being stuck here alone was far worse than dying to something swiftly. They didn't want to be alone.

Sure, they had found a few items to keep them company but it wasn't enough. They craved a human connection. Someone to listen to, or someone to talk to. The silence was overwhelming and talking to themselves could only get them so far.

The spiraling thoughts were finally enough to make the warm tears drop down their cheeks. Instinctively, they reached to wipe them, only for their hand to collide with the helmet's visor. Ah. Right. They couldn't take it off. It was the thing that was keeping them alive. Silent breaths grew heavier at their frustration and soon enough CC found themselves sobbing loudly. They wanted to take this stupid helmet off. They couldn't take this anymore.

Their cries were interrupted by a sound. A first they had heard in a long while. Laughter. A low chuckle. It made them go quiet and jolt up. What was that? Did they imagine it? They shook their head as they sniffled. They must have been finally losing their mind. But then they heard it again. A longer chuckle. The voice was deep and distorted yet despite the eerie tone, it felt oddly gentle. CC's eyes focused on one of the items that were on the floor beside them. A white comedy mask. The noise had to come from that, they were certain of it.

"Are you… Trying to comfort me?" CC reached for the mask, picking it up. As if replying to their question, a muffled laugh came from it. At this point, they didn't care if it was a delusion or not. It was comforting. They wanted this. They needed this. They broke down into a sob once more and held the mask carefully against their chest.

"Thank you…"

Eventually, they let their body lay back on the ground and held the mask above them. They wondered if it was more than just an item and if it had seen and heard everything that had happened from the very moment they had picked it up from the main hall's staircase. They exhaled through their nose in amusement at the thought. Yep. They were losing their mind. There was no way any of these items were sentient. Still… If the thought comforted them and kept them going for a bit longer, it was worth it to entertain it.

Without thinking, they brought the mask closer to their visor. It was a neat looking thing, now that they had a closer look at it. They wondered how it had remained in such a pristine condition if this moon and its manor had been abandoned years ago.

A strange sound interrupted CC's thoughts. Muffled mutters. Chatters. As if something was talking underwater. Many voices distorting into one. And then…

The mask lit up and pressed itself against their helmet. It shattered the glass of their visor, pushing itself into their skin. They shut their eyes and their body convulsed at the intense pain. Something was burning into their face. Dulling their mind as it sank deeper and deeper. Like a wave that engulfed you into the depths of the ocean. Eating them away, bit by bit. It felt painful and all of their nerves burned in desperate resistance as their body continued to twitch. Yet somehow, something about it was… Peaceful. Like slowly falling into a comfortable dream. With each passing second, their movements started to slow down and they felt calmer and calmer. They should have continued to fight it, but they didn't. They had accepted their fate. They were willing to let go. And so, they let that comfortable stillness hold them like a blanket until everything finally went dark. CC's eyes remained closed and they fell into a soothing dream. One where they were safe. One where they wouldn't feel pain. One, which they would never wake up from.

Employee 115: [Life support: OFFLINE]

While one faded away into the depths, another surfaced.

With a sharp gasp, the body moved again. It was strange, to be something that could move on its own accord as it pleased. As expected, it wasn't an easy task to do. After all, how could you know if you had never done it before? With a wobbly movement, he pushed himself up to sit. The floor felt cold under his gloved hands. What a strange sensation. As his gaze wandered, he took in the room he was in. Dimly lit. Pleasant to the eye. His gaze eventually found the cube lying next to him and he picked it up. What a colorful, curious thing. Something about it made him feel warm. What was this feeling? He wasn't sure, but it felt important. He wanted to keep this. Mimicking what his host had done a moment ago, he pressed the item close to his chest and held it gently like a treasured friend. He was confused by how this body felt and moved but wanted to honor the person who had given it to him. He had been watching. He had seen the way the intern had been treated. And he had seen how they had treated his mask. They were kind. Their crew was not. He was unsure if his compassion was his alone or the result of inhabiting a body with such a sensitive mind. Was this how it felt to feel?

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the newly discovered emotions, he found himself sobbing. Red liquid dripped from the mask and stained its white surface as his muffled sounds echoed in the empty room.

It was ironic to take a life for yourself, only to feel just as lost and alone as they must have felt. Even so, in his mind, an equal exchange was made. They were granted the peace they wanted and he was given the freedom that he craved. While the unknown was frightening, this was what he wanted. He would figure things out. He would learn. He would live. For him. For them.

With a quiet, strained voice the newly formed Masked finally spoke his first words.

"Thank you… For lending me… Your life."

[wickedzeevyln]

✮ His Hemingway ✮

Somewhere…near a lake,the house of a thousand wreckage, I live rent-free in a mutt’s head.  A whelp barking about Hemingway is leeching crumbs falling off the table.  His host? Me…a man whose second language is English, yet comprehends how to bend it and fashion as my own, now an unwilling tenant to his deluded mind.  I’m —a blessing to this parasite. My voice mortars between thehollow fissures…

[augustheart]

upside down, inside out

According to Gem, she was separated from everyone at the lab and hadn't seen her friends in months. The same can't be said for the rest of them.

bad comics are my burden