#and too easy to fall into some doom spiral

[lemon-wedges]

...

[anonymityisfunwriter]

it will come back.

"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)

a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

this is your fault. it’s all your fault.

you know better, or at least, you should have known better.

what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.

that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.

you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.

maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.

but this is love, he tells himself.

this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.

this is his love.

he loves you.

he swears he does.

in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.

something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.

it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.

he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.

he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.

"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."

that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.

"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."

he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.

his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.

it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.

if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.

from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.

he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.

first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.

it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.

soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.

"bucky, we're friends, right?"

he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"

"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."

"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?

"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."

"oh."

your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."

he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."

it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.

and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.

he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.

all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.

you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.

you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.

you can't feed someone starved for decades.

you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.

you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.

or he'll come back.

"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"

"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.

your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"

"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."

"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."

he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.

"i'm okay. i promise."

run, he silently warns you.

run.

run.

"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.

too late.

it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.

he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.

you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.

and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.

"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."

"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."

"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"

your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."

"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."

"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."

"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."

you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."

you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.

"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"

"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.

"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."

"you got into a fight?"

"he said some things. about you. about us."

"about me?"

"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."

"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."

"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."

"i would do anything for you."

you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.

you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.

it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.

if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.

but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?

no. not a chance in hell.

he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.

you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.

he'll always come back.

can’t you hear him just outside your door?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[cuprohastes]

The WTF cycle of War with Humans

Most species that get to the point of being part of galactic society as are pretty chill. There's enough room on one planet to colonise for decades even if other species are doing the same. And everone's done the numbers and the cost of even a small skirmish is just not worth the gains.

But there's always someone who just needs to prove they're interstellar bad-asses or want to see what the new guys are up to.

And every so often they pick on the Humans.

When this happens the other species kick back, get some popcorn and start fuelling up the equivalent of Humanitarian Aid for afterwards.

And as for whichever belligerant species tried it this time... They all have the same Analysis: What the actual F-

Stage 1

Having beaten some colonists, razed a couple of more or less unarmed settlements and rofflestomped some farmboys, everyone is feeling pretty good about how these reputed Hellworlders aren't all that.

Sure some of them were an absolute terror but hey we got armour and theyu ain't. Job done, mission accomplished and... WTF was that?

Something huge jumps in system and out, leaving a couple of massive ships, which are travelling way too fast. WTF?

Stage 2

There is some half assed excuse for a spacecraft that just slammed into the atmosphere at around the speed of LOL. These guys are easy pickings. They just destroyed their own... what. Bomber? Troop carrier? WTF is wrong with these idiots? We'll be wiping our cloacas on their homeworld's treasures by the end of the year, yo.

Those ships... massive, big, wasteful and doomed. They're so big you can see them, glowing, making a streak across the sky... in fact... uh... wait, is that thing turning? It's definitely coming this way. And... shouldn't there be bits coming off at this point? WTF?

Stage 3

Now stuff is coming out. But it's coming out in order. Big chonky machinery, followed by... oh is that Humans?! You almost feel sorry for them. Their ship is doomed and they're throwing themselves out. Your superior lens based optics can see they're just... wrapped in cloth, falling. Did they get sucked out while sleeping? WTF?

Then the big ship opens up front ports and makes a sound like every angry soul that was ever condemned to the pits of the afterlife and all of a sudden this thing is flying?

WTF?!

It rips past overhead trailing a sonic shockwave and bombing the shit out of your landing craft, spiralling at twice the speed of sound while laying down some stupendous amount of white hot ballistic mayhem like you couldn't even imagine. And you're looking at it and you still cannot figure out what you're looking at.

Then a human zips past. WTF?!

They jsut spread their stupid arms and legs and they have a fucking curtain or something tied on and... they can fly?!

Then they're stopping, mid air using some sort of... what is that, sheets? They can do that? WTF?

Stage 4

Now you know what the Hellworlders are really like. They came in their own armour with this stupid blocky pattern that made it hard for you to figure what you were looking at, with guns and knives. They shot through the barricades and walls you hide behind.

They were covered in explosive shrapnel shells and they just did this thing where they twisted and those stupid arms suddenly became launchers, and those little orbs came sailing past and then turned your best soldiers into gooey lumps.

You saw the biggest guy in the unit leap out and this one dumb Human just flipped them over and... You wish you could unsee that. You wish with all your soul you could. WTF? Who does that? Even in a war?

Stage 5

Nobody waited for Command to issue an order to surrender. The Humans? You can kill them, but they'll get you and everyone around you. One of them just turned a command vehicle into a doughnut lined with the burning residue of everyone inside.

Then their tanks showed. They don't float. They roar. They claw along with terrifying speed. They go through your defenses without stopping and there's his big artillery piece on top that's turning your fortifications into a historical rumour. They're just... soaking up. All the punishment you can give. WTF?

Clearly you can die in the blood soaked mud or you can surrender. If Command wants to keep fighting they can come down here.

Stage 6

You threw down your weapons and they just... fed you. There's a cot, a blanket, three meals a day for some reason. Three. WTF? The injured are being patched up, nobody is being tortured and after a few months you even get a package and mail form your Szuch. You're even allowed to send them a message back saying that you're OK.

There's even members of the other Starfaring species showing up to check that the pretty nice barracks is... well. Pretty nice WTF? These guys rode a meteor in then threw themselves at you from a mile up and hand-slaughtered the best your military can train... just to have something to do while their giant, air splitting and ground shaking war machines showed up.

And now they're worried you aren't getting enough sleep or food.

Then they send you home and people see your uniform and ask... How did we lose? Are the humans really that bad? I mean come on, that's just propaganda, right? We're going back to show them who's boss... right?

And all you can do. Is stare and think... WTF?

[echo-rambles]

yours to keep

words: 1,728 tags: bang chan x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, kissing, attempt at humor. mentions of marriage. vague adhd!reader. notes: this is filled with nothing but fluff. tooth rotting fluff almost. I was feeling so incredibly soft for chan and I just had to get this out of my system. also the movie playing in the bg is absolutely kiki's delivery service.

-o0o-

You’ve refreshed the same three social media apps at least four different times each, falling into an incredibly boring spiral of doom scrolling, before you remember that if you’re bored enough you always have a boyfriend you can bother. It’s one of your favorite activities actually. Because he’s such a good sport about it. 

Shifting closer to him on the couch, you perch your chin on his shoulder, pressing close. He immediately leans into your touch, making a small little noise at your proximity. It makes your heart melt a little. 

For a few moments you silently watch him work. Clicking about on his laptop, pulling up various recording and editing programs, adding in and taking out bits of audio. You wonder what the track sounds like, but Chan has his big headphones secured to his head, so all you can do right now is imagine. 

It’s not completely silent. There’s a Studio Ghibli movie playing in the background that neither of you are watching, volume low enough to be nothing but white noise because you kind of extremely hate when there’s long stretches of absolutely no noise. It’s this weird thing your brain does; where it sort of feels all fuzzy and prickly if things are quiet for too long. 

Gently, you push one side of his headphones away from the ear closest to you. “Baby.” 

Chan hums in acknowledgement, but his attention is still focused entirely on his laptop. 

You’d be more annoyed if you weren’t so used to it by now. It’s kind of his job to be attached to it any second of the day that he’s not either preparing to perform or actively performing. Besides, you’re both sitting together and quietly enjoying each other's company while doing your own things and it’s kind of perfect. Except the thing you were working on has steadily lost your attention and now you want to ask your boyfriend a very important question. 

“On a scale of 1-10, how busy are you?” That’s not the question. It’s one of many lead up questions to accurately gauge how invested Chan is in his current project and how easy it will be to distract him. 

Another hum, and you watch his cursor rifle around in several different lists and menus. “Maybe a 6.7? Even 6 if I can find the specific snare I’m looking for in the next few minutes.” 

Below a 7 is promising. “So you can totally pause what you’re doing and give me like, five minutes?” 

Chan clicks around some more, and you recognize a little bit of what he’s doing. Going through the process of saving his progress before shutting his laptop entirely. “Actually, I can give you ten minutes.”

“You’re so generous.” You absolutely take that as your cue to crawl into his lap, taking the place of his computer as he places it somewhere safe off to the side. 

“I think I’ve been staring at the screen too long, my eyes are starting to rebel.” He groans, tipping his head back and scrubbing his palms over his face. 

Of course you still have that very important question to ask him, but he looks so soft and touchable and you really can’t help yourself. Moving his hands away, you lean in, pressing kisses to both of his cheeks, under each eye. To the tip of his nose, and even kissing his dimple when you feel him smile under your mouth. Using your hands to tilt his face, you kiss each side of his jaw. You move back up, placing a kiss to the curve of his forehead. 

Finally, finally, you kiss his mouth. He’s still smiling, but he kisses back happily. 

“Feel better?” 

He nods, eyes still closed. “I think your kisses might be magic.”

“Oh, they absolutely are.” You kiss him again simply because you can. It’s the sort of kiss that makes your bones all liquid and warm. A kiss you can feel in the roots of your teeth and the hinges of your jaw. It makes your stomach flutter, filled to the brim with colorful wings. 

It’s the type of kiss that almost makes you forget the question you wanted to ask him. 

“I actually have a very important question for you.” You declare, placing your hands firmly on his shoulders to try and keep him at arm's length. Lest you be drawn back into that mouth of his. 

Blinking up at you, breathing heavily and gaze a little dizzy, Chan nods. He mirrors the gesture, anchoring his hands at your hips. “Lay it on me, boss.” 

Settling into his lap, you try to ignore how stupidly wrecked he looks. You want to dive back in so badly, but you must stay strong, soldier. 

“If, for some unknown reason, you had to leave me to be with someone else, who would you choose?” 

That, at least, seems to sober him. Instead of looking soft and kiss-drunk, he comes back to himself, the gears behind his eyes starting to turn and grind together as he processes your insane question. 

You like to ask him things like this from time to time. Completely unprompted but thought provoking questions, because they really do feel important. You like to know these things. Not in a paranoid jealous sort of way. It’s all genuine curiosity. You just like to know.

“What kind of question is that? I don’t know. I can’t say I’ve ever thought about leaving you, or being with anyone else.” 

“That is the sweetest sentiment and I need you to know I’m feeling very warm and mushy over it, but it’s also incredibly boring.” 

“Wow, ok. I don’t know! Who would you choose?” He tries to throw the question back at you, but you’re ready. Of course you are; why would you even ask the question without having an answer of your own? 

“Changbin.”

It makes Chan laugh. It knocks its way out of him, causing him to lean to the side just a little bit with the force of it. “No hesitation!”

“No hesitation needed. He’s Seo Changbin.” 

Chan is still laughing. Little giggles as he nods along to your declaration. His fingers press into your waist, slipping between the hem of your shirt and your sweatpants, skin seeking skin. 

He didn’t ask for an explanation, but you have one. Because of course you do. “He’s the type of guy who would probably introduce himself as my boyfriend. Like, he’s the famous one, but I’m not his girlfriend. He’s my boyfriend. Does that make sense?”

“I hate to agree, but it absolutely does.”

“Right! Unfortunately I’m stuck with you.” You ignore his breathy wow, drawn out as he tries his best to not laugh again. “Because you’re the only person who plays into my jokes in the exact way that I enjoy.” 

You make sure to punctuate your explanation with a pout and shrug, truly playing into being overdramatic. Teasing him because it’s fun and easy and all he really does is smile so wide at you. The things you would do for that smile. 

He leans forward, close enough to place a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he’s settling back into his seat. “Aw, I love you too.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m stupidly in love with you. It’s whatever.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Though,” You start, thoughtfully. “If I had to choose someone to get drunk married to in Vegas, I’d 100% no questions asked, pick Lino.”

Chan leans forward once again, into your space. The tilt of his brow and the line of his mouth spell out genuine concern, and it makes your insides twist up for the briefest of seconds. “Wait, what? Not me? But babe, I want to drunk marry you in Vegas so bad.” 

Ok, that makes you laugh. The weird little guilty knot immediately dissolves at his incredulous tone. “Absolutely not! We’re never getting drunk married in Vegas by some celebrity impersonator. Are you crazy?”

Well now he’s frowning. It makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and never let him go. Tuck him away safely in a spot behind your ribs, where no one can get to him and nothing can hurt him.

You’re smaller than him, not only because you’re shorter by a good few inches, but also in sheer mass and bulk. But you’d try your best. It’s probably a little morbid, and he’d absolutely give you a look if you ever mentioned it out loud. But it’s true nonetheless. 

You’d crack yourself open and rearrange everything if it meant you could fit him perfectly in the space next to your heart. 

Cradling his face in your hands, you make sure that he’s listening, tipping your head to meet his eyes and smoothing your thumb along the swell of his bottom lip. “We’d get sober married, on a beach or something, by one of our very good friends that got their license online!” 

Without missing a beat, Chan is nodding. “Seungmin.” 

“No question. He’d show up with a print out certificate from Ordained.com that he managed to get the night before.”

Chan’s eyes disappear as he laughs, and you press both of your thumbs into the apples of his cheeks as his smile transforms his face. There’s always something about the way Chan smiles that is contagious. Without fail you can’t help but smile too, scrunching up your nose and feeling your heart overflow with love. 

The things you would do for that smile. 

“Hold on. Did you just propose to me?” Chan asks, once his laughter has trickled off into intermittent giggling. You’re still holding his face, and his fingers have fully migrated up under your top to spread out along our back. 

You scoff, shaking your head. “No. We’re too young and you’re too busy for us to be married. Hell no. If anything I pre-proposed to you.”

“Aw, well I accept.”

“Good. We’d have a problem if you didn’t.” 

It’s his turn to pull you into a kiss. Both of your smiles pressing against each other. 

The credits of the movie neither of you were watching have started rolling, the familiar music washing over the both of you, and you could really spend the rest of the night here with him. The rest of the weekend. Maybe even the rest of your lives, some day.

[gz-missfit]

I wanna talk about Tubbo and Phil

I know there's some strong opinions from many on either character so I wanna share some thoughts on their relationship from someone who's watched both for a LONG time (way way before qsmp).

Tubbos and Phil's relationship kinda is, the closest I can get to explaining is is Bads and Foolishs, by that i mean is that at first glance you would not necessarily think these 2 had the dynamic they actually DO have. It's easy to get swept up in their banter and chaotic messing with eachother or in the way they mostly communicate through jokes and teasing but those 2 TRUST eachother a LOT.

I'm gonna try to not bring the kids into this cause obviously they don't have the knowledge we as the audience do in this sense, but Phil is not someone who trusts easy, the closets one he has to fully being honest with is Fit and even he doesn't know everything. But Phil trusts capabilities, that's why he trusts Fit so much cause he knows the other veteran is incredibly capable. To bring this back to Tubbo, Phil knows that Tubbo is INCREDIBLY capable and smart, he knows the kid is talented, hard working and determined beyond believe. But those who know Phil also know he's just not good at showing this, but believe me when I say he thinks incredibly highly of Tubbos capabilities.

Tubbo is someone Phil trusts relentlessly, even if he sometimes gets things wrong about him as a character it is never with any malicious intent and he sees that kid as family, meaning he'll do everything to help him if called.

Now to Tubbo, tubbo is interesting because his trust is rare, at least his FULL trust is. Obviously he has people he relies on more than others but true transparent trust is something he really only has with the eggs. He does have people he trusts, he just doesn't want/like to rely on others and it's kinda weaving into his need to be the one that people rely on. Now for me I definitely think Tubbo thinks of Phil as a friend, no doubt about it. And I feel like he's also very aware of how Phil works, a lot more so than others (definitely due to their long term irl friendship too). Tubbo knows where Phil's strengths lie and when he can just ask him for tips or advice, Tubbo knows Phil is reliable when called for, Tubbo knows Phil does not talk about his relationships or emotions a lot. Tubbo has been on the receiving end of a few things no other had to see from Phil yet, Tubbo was one of the only ones who during Purgatory got shown how Phil lost all hope in himself and for his kids (seeing in him being genuinely shocked Tubbo was still fighting for them too), But he also got to see how even with that doubt Phil would never leave someone behind he sees as his flock. Phil sacrificed his wings for Tubbo and both know he'd do it again a thousand times over.

Another moment I like to take as example is very early day of Tubbo joining, it's funny cause u can definitely see a like mentor/apprentice vibe which quickly fizzles out once Tubbo finds his footing in what he is good at. A moment that has always stuck out to me though is the kids disappearance day and those leading up to it. Tubbo was responsible for Chayanne and Tallulah during that time (quick side note, Phil's instant trust with those 2 for Tubbo is HUGE especially the fact that Phil knew Tubbo would take his explanations of how to be there for Tallulah seriously) and once the realization hit Tubbo kinda went into this dooming mindset, he saw himself as a failure and was worried about losing the fact that Phil relied on him, basically afraid of losing his usefulness, he spiraled and was terrified of Phil's response but when it actually came to that day? Phil was nothing but instantly understanding, reassured Tubbo, never lost trust in him with the kids down the line and showed Tubbo where his anger truly falls. It was such a simple moment but Neither have lost any trust in the other when it comes to absolute necessity.

And I think that's where a lot of their headbutting or appeared distrust comes from cause those 2 don't want nor like to rely on others. They're used to being the ones that are relied on! But when it comes down to it, when it comes to push and shove they know the other is someone they could rely on in a heartbeat (when I say necessity I mean necessity btw, like full on life or death)

Because when the people who do not ask for help need to ask for help you know shits bad, and it's a little easier when the person you know is so similar yet so different from you that you're aware this will never be talked about again, it's easier to ignore the heaviness if you've gotten used to hide it with banter and jokes. But a flock will never leave eachother down, even if they don't say it.

(Also Tubbo logging out infront of Phil today and Phil wanting to prank him with a spawn trap only to go "I was gonna put Lava here, but he can't die so no I'm not gonna be a dick" is something like, once Phil is aware of something he instantly adjusts to it, he asked for Tubbos equipment before bringing him a boss mob to fight, gave him food during it etc. Cause again once both are aware of something they do instantly jump in or adjust to it)

[way2pretty4this]

Taking Care of Yourself > "Glowing up"

I see a lot of things that tell you how to "glow up" or how to do your makeup in a way that make you hotter. Things like this, that in reality don't change much besides the fact that you might become so obsessive over glowing up that you fail to look after yourself both physically and mentally. This is why I wanted to make a beginner-friendly guide to caring for yourself and essentially becoming the best version of you (aka glowing up).

Start getting up earlier. Start with 7:30am for a few days, then move to 7:00am, do this until you work your way down to 6:30 or 6:00. It doesn't matter what you do, you can go for a run or a walk or just make yourself breakfast and chill. I would suggest trying to stay off of your phone for at least thirty minutes after waking up. If that's too hard for you then try fifteen to twenty minutes. This will get you adjusted to not being on your phone and then later in the day you'll feel less of an urge to check your phone or start doom-scrolling.

Along with waking up earlier, I'd encourage you to push yourself to fall asleep earlier. Again, start with something easy, like 11:00pm, then 10:00pm, then 9:00pm. I promise you won't miss out on anything by going to sleep. This can be a hard thing for some people, and I still struggle with this, but that's why you work your way down instead of going straight to nine.

Get into the habit of making and eating your breakfast. Doesn't have to be fancy, it can just be a bagel and cream cheese. Sit and eat it and do nothing else. It can be hard to be left alone with your thoughts, so instead think about something random or unrelated to you. Like how pretzels were invented or why some people insist on having "hazel" eyes.

DRINK WATER. This will lower your chances of having headaches and overall make you feel better. Start with one water bottle. Fill it up in the morning and aim to finish it by the end of the day. Then try finishing it twice.

Try journaling. I know firsthand how intimidating this can be. I had trouble starting too, but it's not as bad as it sounds! buy a basic notebook (I would recommend spiral bound as it's easier to write in) and a black pen or pencil. Then write down everything you do, dinner dates, assignments, coffees, walks, anything. Nothing is too small for your notebook. If you don't know what to write, just go into extreme detail about your day.

Make yourself go for a walk or run. Put in your earbuds and walk. Smile at strangers walking the other way and you'll notice just how many will smile back at you. It's a good feeling. Go to a park and sit in the sunshine. Let the warmth rush over you and think about how your life would go if you could never fail. Take small steps to make it happen.

Lastly my best tip for you is to work your hardest to become the person you dream about falling in love with. Be kind to people. Stick your tongue out at babies, compliment people's outfits, ask people about their stories. Talk to your acquaintances and make them your friends. Challenge yourself not to judge anyone for an hour, then two, then three, then a full day. Get it up to a week.

♡ Have fun! ♡

[degloved]

for all that i tend to dislike the parallels drawn between hannigram and hoffstrahm, they're not entirely unfounded. and for that, i think, they're all the more interesting to set side by side and pick apart (picture me here, if you will, clad in white and peering at the four of them through a microscope while they just sort of growl at each other like stray cats that have only just met.)

with that out of the way, let's look at those initial parallels everyone and their mother immediately saw—the explicitly expressed and implicitly implied "we're conjoined. i'm curious whether either of us can survive separation." the answer in both cases is a resounding NO, though here the similarities stop. if saw v had been brave enough to give us the ending both we and the characters deserved, they'd both have died in the glass coffin trap, full stop. no ifs or buts or anything else, they ought to have both died then and there (and if you share this opinion, perhaps you might enjoy @tranquilitybasehotelcasino's take this to your grave (i'll take it to mine) or my entre chien et loup.) however, perhaps due to the fact that this is not what we got, the theory is actually affirmed—strahm died, and hoffman went off the rails. it is a popular belief that strahm was hoffman's last remaining tie to some amount of sanity, and that's for a good reason; without strahm, the downward spiral was imminent and unavoidable. this remains unchanged if the roles were reversed; if strahm had been the one to live instead, he would find no peace or comfort in the death of jigsaw. he'd left too much of himself pressed between the pages of numerous case files and reports, the sinewy bits of hoffman still stuck between his teeth. it's all one big what if, but i think it's safe to say you would find him poring over the same files and evidence years later, tapp-like in his obsession of a case solved. (if he let himself live that long.)

similarly, hannigram are doomed to the same two choices; had they not lived through the fall (which had of course been implied that they had by bedelia's unfortunate fate), they must die on the rocks below. for only one to live would be a cruel and unusual punishment, which one might say would befit the likes of them, though in that case one would fail to understand that the other would end it all soon thereafter. if it had been will in that role, he would not hesitate—he had already passed his judgement atop that cliff, and would not have second thoughts about redoing that death sentence. if it had been hannibal, he would not go against will's very judgement; in those moments after dolarhyde, hannibal trusted will—and in this moment, he would continue trusting will.

however, hannigram did live—imo—and now, i invite you to engage your suspension of disbelief, as i'm basing this part off the idea that strahm never did get trash-compactor'ed and instead chose the life of a fugitive alongside hoffman, who also never did get saw-bathroom'ed either. and the similarities between the one pair and the other sort of dissolve here, once they find themselves doomed to a life on the lam. post-canon hannigram are both cannibals, hannibal being a very purposeful one and will being a situational one. if the meat is on the menu, will is eating it. meat is meat is meat is food and why should we waste food? he wouldn't go out of his way to eat people, and he'd never instigate a hunt of his own, but if hannibal needs a hand? if hannibal is cooking? why the hell would he complain. meat is meat is meat is food, and he knew what he got into when he ran away with hannibal. and he didn't "get into it" inasmuch as he leaped for the opportunity. hannibal will allow a dozen dogs in the house and their doggy hair on the couch, and will will allow human meat in his dinner. it is easy, because they're made of the same stuff, and will is for the first time at liberty to revel in this darkness that comprises the building blocks of them both.

meanwhile back at the ranch, strahm could not possibly get with hoffman's serial killing tendencies. he'd never stop being angry, he'd never stop seething. he's only here because the alternative is being alone and hoffmanless, and somehow that is worse than this predicament. and he's furious for that fact too, though most of all, he's furious with himself: for the first time in his life, he has acted completely selfishly. for the first time he has taken exactly what he wanted—and it might be, on the whole, one of the worst things anyone could want. it is hard, because they're made of the same stuff, and there's evidence of this in abundance right before his eyes. his only saving grace would be this anger that he is clinging to, because it's the only proof he has that he's not yet wholly rotten. irredeemable, yes, by the virtue of doing what he's done, but he's not that bad, he's not hoffman. and he doesn't want to be like hoffman. and you might ask, why does he stay, then? if he hates it so viscerally? unfortunately (for strahm), he is not exempt from the human condition, he is not exempt from the raw, unbearable desire to be seen and to be understood and, most of all, to be loved. the majority of behaviors and attitudes he's ever displayed to the world have been universally and unanimously deemed as repulsive and off-putting, the majority of the world saw him as 'that angry guy nobody really likes or talks to.' and then another guy came along who saw all of that—the rather tame stuff (his standoffishness and brusque manner) and the more eyebrow-raising stuff (the tendency to bring a gun into the interrogation room and point it at himself and the suspect and the people on the other side of the one-way mirror)—and instead of repelled, the other guy found himself smitten and in love. well i wouldn't know how to act either to be honest. between staying put and watching my one shot at love hit the road without me, and blindly following my one shot at love no matter what my deeply ingrained moral code told me to do... well. you know. WHO'S TO SAY! anyway.

in conclusion, and in the words of @tranquilitybasehotelcasino:

they love each other so much it's SICK, a bit because and a bit despite. hannigram have brought an open season to the poor mfs of cuba as their love manifests itself outwardly—in the overlapped hands on the handle of a knife twisted into somebody else's gut & the warm meal following thereafter; the people of alaska or maine or whatever quaint little westcoastian town hoffstrahm have relocated to remain suspiciously safe, simply for the fact that their love manifests itself inwardly—in the two pairs of hands wrapped around two throats & the promises of violence lovingly whispered in the dark. you know

[borderlinereminders]

I know getting a BPD diagnosis can be scary. There's so much stigma online, and both BPD and things you read online can make you feel like it'll never get better. That you're forever doomed to feel the way you do, and that things will always be bad.

But I'm here to remind you that this isn't the case. While my BPD still affects me, my quality of life has significantly improved for many reasons including my ability to foster healthy relationships with people and cope with my spirals and symptoms like a lack of emotional permanence, doubting my loved ones and etc. (You can check out my BPD FAQ for some tips to some of these.)

While everyone is different, and your journey will be different, I want to remind you that you can improve things for yourself. You can find joy and hope and love in your life with BPD. The bad days will suck, but you can make them less frequently and the good days are amazing and can definitely outweigh the bad.

Getting diagnosed with BPD doesn't mean your life is over and that it's hopeless. It means that you can now understand what's causing a lot of your thoughts and emotions, and learn to deal with it. When I got diagnosed, it allowed me to realize my unhealthy thoughts were BPD and gave me a level of self awareness that has helped me cope. Irrational thought telling me my friends don't love me? "Oh, that's my BPD being rude." And if that didn't work, it would at least allow me to pause and look at my ways for coping with the thoughts that I came up with over time.

I know it's a hard thought pattern to break, but telling yourself it's hopeless and you're doomed makes it hard to see any possibilities beyond that. I hope that as a fellow person with BPD telling you that there is hope, and I once felt that way and found my way out, I hope that can reach you a bit. And no, it isn't just that there's hope for everyone but you. (I once felt that way, too.) You aren't an exception. There is hope for you, too. I know some random internet stranger can't fix all the thoughts in your head, but I do want you to know that there is hope, and maybe the first step is seeing that others with BPD have lives they enjoy and that their BPD hasn't "ruined everything" so that you can get from there to "huh, maybe that can be me, too."

I'm not saying that it'll be easy (things like this seldom are). I'm not saying that you won't fall backwards sometimes (it's normal for this to not be a linear process). I'm not saying that it'll happen quickly (it won't.) I'm not saying that there won't be hiccups and interruptions, and times where you want to give up (you likely will). I'm saying that it's possible and that there's hope. And one of my favourite things I've heard is that the time passes anyways, you may as well try.

(Side note that if you've been one of the people to feel hopeless, and then find hope or make progress to enjoy your life or have a quality of life - please feel free to share that on this post. More voices could be good.)

[yata776]

Episode 2: Three Nocturnal Creatures

Well, appearances can be truly deceiving. This episode made an utterly fantastic job at establishing Nina as a very compelling protagonist. She was initially just a shy introverted girl escaping the responsibilities of life after a presumably bad situation, but Episode 2 expanded her to be a particularly multifaceted character.

First of all, she is a lot more responsible than I first assumed. She is completely self-aware of the situation she is and is taking all the necessary steps to make it on her own. She is not running away from life, but the exact opposite. Even though the idea of singing is appealing to her, she cannot see a future for herself as a singer so she is not willing to take the risk. And that is understandable in a world that has repeatedly told her to not take those risks and just do what she is told.

Nina comes from a somewhat strict family, and she has followed all their (understandable) rules with the reassurance that she was earning her spot in life as a good daughter. The incident that made Nina run away from home was her family not taking her side when a bully sent her to the hospital. We don’t have a lot of context for this yet,I assume it will be expanded later, but if Nina is not lying we can at least understand why she would run away. When an internal contract of trust between yourself and your family gets breached you obviously reconsider what is even the point of it.

My one issue with this episode is that Nina’s backstory is a little bit cornier than I imagined, but I think it connects well to her character and her recurrent emotional outbursts. This is less of an archetypal shy anime girl being quirky and more of a young teen finally tasting the lows and highs of not just independence, but freedom of any kind.

It’s interesting Momoka’s thoughts about the positive aspects of a band reflect her situation with Nina's family and character so well.

And Nina is completely done with the idea of even being part of a community. She is going to live alone and carve her own path.

This leads us to Nina’s social issues and wow, this was easily the most hard-hitting part of the episode. Nina’s social skills in the first episode were pretty good, so I don’t think most people were guessing she would be the type to struggle making friends, but it only adds to the unexpected depth of her character.

Momoka and Nina connect really well, probably due to the easy-going mature personality of the former and Nina feeling immediately attuned to her due to being a fan, but the appearance of another high schooler with even a hint of a sharp tongue makes Nina’s mind spiral into full doomer mode as she gets reminded of some of the bullying she endured. She doesn’t want to fall into that same cage again. So logically, she runs away just like she did last time.

Initially I believed this scene was rushed, but it serves massively for Nina’s character. As Momoka confronts her, Nina first blurts out she was feeling threatened by Subaru's words.

But she immediately takes the burden of the issue on herself. No, it wasn’t Subaru being mean. The problem is that Nina doesn’t deserve friends, she is too dumb and spoiled for them. Going from blaming others just to change your tune to a self-deprecation spiral to justify the fact you cannot put in the work of making friends was like looking into a mirror. And now I think Subaru’s previous remarks being so inconsequential only serve to make that point and Nina's current path of meaningless self destruction clearer.

Raise your hand if the following dialogue is painfully relatable to you.

Thankfully Nina isn’t completely alone. Both Momoka and now Subaru care about Nina, and want to channel her despair into something productive that gets her out of her doom spiral. Momoka only finds it beneficial for the both of them she enters into a band with her as she feels like her trauma would make for some sick angsty beats.

I’m a big fan of this show’s self-awareness being less about breaking the tension of the scene for the viewer and more about trying to get Nina out from the sheer darkness of her doomer mode. Makes the experience very diegetic. The room lighting up as Momoka and Subaru laugh at Nina just bawling her heart out is incredibly heartwarming and establishes a tighter connection than some other shows could do in their entire run.

It would be easy to say Momoka and Subaru are taking advantage of her and undervaluing her pain but the show does a great job at showing how much they care for her well-being.

Momoka sees a lot of her young self in Nina, and that reflects in her song writing. Their unique relationship as artist and fan allows them to have an immediate connection that is easy to perceive and well developed throughout these two episodes.

Subaru gets a lot less screen time, but even with the terrible first impression Nina makes she is still makes a conscious choice to keep the friendship going. Her good social skills aren’t just for show, she is clearly empathetic to Nina. She noticed she was very uncomfortable when they first met, and proposed to leave her alone for the night.

I am very much looking forward to how her character will be expanded in future episodes and if her rocky start with Nina will lead to fun places.

Overall, while I think the first episode was tighter, this episode was fantastic at showcasing Nina’s character and the absolute mess of a personal journey she is undertaking. I adore this show so far, and I can’t wait to see more of these girls.

Episode 2: Great

PD: Cute AF abusive dad.

[starrypawz]

Kiss prompt 34 “to pretend” – ship choice is yours

AO3 Kissing Prompts

There’s a part of Gerry that does wonder if he should be concerned about one: how easy it is to get into places he shouldn’t and two: how comfortable he’s become getting into places he shouldn’t. 

And tonight the place he shouldn’t be in and is far too comfortable about the fact he’s in somewhere he shouldn’t is a former English department building on a university campus that seems to have been commandeered by the drama society as surplus storage. There’d been a lock but it felt more from appearances sake with how easy it was to get past (There’s also a part of him that should be worried about how blase so many places seem to be about their security).

(And judging from the empty WKD bottle he’d nearly tripped over and something on the floor that looked suspiciously like a condom wrapper he had a good idea how else this building has been repurposed by students taking advantage of the lax security) 

He’s focused on a bookshelf hidden behind a couple of clear plastic crates which contain haphazardly shoved elements of costumes. (According to the label on the box these were from a production of Grease and well there is the arm of a pink satin jacket poking out of one of them so that tracks)

“Move the torch down?” 

Nemo does. 

“So what are we looking for?” 

“A copy of The Waste Land…” He pauses for a second, nearly all of these books are more than a little dog eared, cheap paperbacks clearly used and abused by countless students until their inglorious retirement, falling right into that category of books that are old but not actually worth anything.

 And that’s… that’s… Frost. 

“Let me guess… End?” 

“What?”

“Like… if it’s The Waste Land it’s going to be connected to The End right?” And then Nemo adds after a moment, “Or Spiral?” 

Frost… Frost… Fucking Frost. 

“Actually… Hey move the light to the right a little…” Nemo does, “It… It might be Buried?” 

“Huh…” Nemo feels an answering little drop in their stomach that they try to ignore. “There’s… not a lot about this one,” Gerry then finds way too many Wordsworths, “I mean it makes sense,” Gerry shrugs, “The Waste Land has themes of collapse and that is actually a feature of the Buried” 

“Right…”

He picks up on the twinge of discomfort in Nemo’s voice, “Nemo?”

“I’m ok…” Nemo sighs, “Just… you know,”

“Yeah…” Gerry sighs, and his thoughts drift back for a moment to that night in Camden “I know,” 

“I mean… at least I met you?” Nemo gives a soft chuckle,

“Yeah,” Gerry gives a fond sigh, “Romance for the ages right?” He skips over some Keats and Kiplings, “But yeah, Buried, just a hunch,” Still nothing, “There’s not a lot about this one, I think thankfully not many people have interacted with it,” He pauses as he checks a few more, no luck “Mostly heard accounts about feelings of doom,” 

Nemo snorts, “That narrows it down,”

Gerry laughs. He’s on the bottom shelf now but still no Elliot, looks over a few more books and. 

“Fuck,” He mutters

“No luck?” 

“Yeah,” Gerry sighs, he checks again and no. 

“Are you sure it’s here?” 

“Yes,”

And then he realises that came out way more terse than he intended and sighs, “Sorry,”

“It’s ok…”

“It’s just,” Gerry stands up, “It’s around here somewhere,” He pauses, “I Know,” 

An innocuous masquerade of an outmoded, long forgotten, battered, dog-eared paperback, spine cracked, black ballpoint scribble on the pale blue cover. Hidden amongst countless others in a former English department building a relic left behind after its replacement with a glass fishbowl. 

He takes a deep breath and focuses on that pull deep down, it’s always subtle but he’s found most of the time it’s in his best interests to follow. 

Entombed, lies in wait with those destined to meet their end. 

He starts to move and Nemo follows. Away from the shelves and to a corner and a stack of archive boxes that on closer inspection are marked To Be Pulped. 

Here. It’s here. Somewhere. 

Follow the pull follow follow and…

This One

He’s on his knees, and rifle through the box with gloved hands. The books in here have been placed haphazardly. And they’re even more battered and dog eared than the ones on the bookshelves. To the point he picks up one and the cover detached.

He puts his hand in once more and 

There.

“Got it!”

He holds the copy of The Waste Land aloft. Pale blue, dog eared and with a ballpoint pen scribble on the cover. It’s little surprise the contents of the box are dusty as dust motes float away caught in torch light, but this book is suspiciously so.

“You were right,” 

Gerry shrugs, “Just a hunch,” As he focuses on unzipping his rucksack and getting the book secured away in a heavy canvas bag. 

“Right,” He gives a sigh of relief as he stands up and shoulders his bag, “Let’s-” 

“Shit!” Nemo pulls (or at least does their best to do so and he follows) them more into the corner

“Nemo-”

“There’s… someone around-” 

And then he hears it. Echoing footsteps from outside the room, heavy ones that from experience he knows tend to belong to security guards or police. (He hopes it’s the former) 

“Shit!” Gerry echoes and tries to think. There’s only one door, and the windows are not an option (He had tested one on the way in and had found they’re that sort that only lets you open them enough to get a breeze in) 

There’s a flash of light through the glass and the sound of a door opening 

Maybe we could-

He loses that thought as he finds himself pulled down and kissed. He gives a muffled sound of surprise and it takes more than a moment for him to kiss back. 

This works

He gives a soft sigh as their positions change, Nemo now up on their toes and he’s not sure where to put his hand on the small of their back. And despite everything he feels himself start to melt into the kiss as he’s reminded yet again how Nemo seems to fit perfectly against him. And then Nemo’s hand dares to slip under the hem of his shirt (A recently broached frontier) and he shudders from both the touch of Nemo’s chilled fingertips (Not that he minds, if anything he’s found there’s something about the sensation against his skin he’s starting to crave) and how sensitive the skin of his stomach is anyway.

He feels his pulse kick up and he’ll take this reason for it kicking up rather than that ‘I am currently running for my life’ way he’s far too familiar with especially as it’s followed with that warmth from deep down that’s becoming a regular feature by this point and-

Suddenly, they're bathed in light. Too bright and even with his eyes shut he winces. 

There’s a part of his brain still working, not lost in the result of Nemo’s attentions that reminds him of exactly where they are and how this ruse might not…

“Bloody students!” Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever found them has probably, hopefully decided it’s not with the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 

They probably could stop kidding once the door shuts. They probably should stop kissing but they don’t. They keep kissing even as the steps trail off into the distance. 

(They might come back? Better safe than sorry right?)

(At least that what Gerry tells himself, this is necessary for the ruse)

And then they pull back, both flushed and lightheaded (And Nemo looking more than a little smug) “Right…” Gerry waits for his brain to catch up, “Let’s go… Need to go burn this,” 

. And then he feels that warmth from deep in his core that’s becoming a regular feature and-

Suddenly they’re bathed in light. Too bright, and if his eyes weren’t shut right now he’d be wincing from.. And Gerry’s not so lost in Nemo’s attentions to totally forget where they are and how this ruse might not… 

“Bloody students!” 

Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever that is probably deciding it’s not worth the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 

And they probably could stop kissing the moment the door shuts and the steps trail out of earshot. 

But they don’t. It carries on

. But they don’t, it carries on for longer than necessary to maintain the ruse (They could come back, better safe than sorry right?) before they both pull back more than a little lightheaded. (And Nemo looking more than a little smu

“Uh… let’s go,” Gerry manages after a long moment. “Need to burn this,” 

[princeofheartclasspects]

Hi! Wanted to ask for a session analysis - or a session critique? For a Rogue of Doom, Witch of Blood, Heir of Void, Mage of Breath, a Knight of Space and a Prince of Time. The Knight of Space might become a Rogue of Space. There's also a solid lack of knowledgable/rational players (ie. Mind/Light, Seer/Mage). I'm just... trying to figure out what's missing or weak about this session, and can't pinpoint anything specifically: Classpecting is not my strong suit, lol. Help...? (Thank ysm !!!!)

This is an interesting assortment for sure!

ROGUE OF DOOM:

The Rogue has difficulty in coping with Doom – maybe they constantly face having to make sacrifices, having rules and limitations imposed upon them, their life lacking in structure or stability, or just always seeming to have something terrible happen to them. I can see the Rogue being minimizing and dismissive of the effect Doom has on them, especially when it pertains to the negative effects of it and not seeing the positives. They may suffer in silence, thinking that their pain is nothing compared to others and that they will not accept the Rogue - using that Doom to limit and isolate themself. I can see them being very empathetic and warm but prone to pessimistic thoughts and doubt, giving up too easily.

Doom can be hard to handle, but it isn’t something that is all negative! The Rogue has a special relationship to it, and it can be used to accomplish amazing things – if the Rogue can stand up to take it! Doom isn’t all gloom and misery; it is at its core – the laws of life and notion of limitation. It keeps everything within boundaries and from spiraling out of control. Without Doom everything would fall apart to anarchy, shortsightedness, and intolerance.  It is acceptance and accepting others, showing empathy for those around you, letting people know they are not alone and unheard in their struggles. Fate cannot be changed; all they can do is react and make the best of it. If the Rogue could do that then they will be able to stand up and take charge of their aspect – they understand what must be done and where the line is drawn, playing cautious but not cowardly, fully using Doom and redistributing it to where it needs to go.

The Rogue has some amazing potential both as an offensive player and as a support. Healing and easing other’s pain and suffering, or even saving one from death itself. That could come at a steep price however, for the Rogue or one of their teammates. They’re an unconventional healer as they could heal the damage done to an ally by redistributing it onto an enemy! There’s a lot of creative potential here, maybe they can even redistribute things from Doomed selves or saving one from Doom itself. There is a limit to what can be done though, and the Rogue will learn fast to respect what should not be crossed.

They will make sure no person bears a heavy burden alone, instead distributing it to their enemies or evenly amongst the team. Maybe they can even utilize their own suffering to their advantage or making their limits seem so much lower than they are and having the advantage of surprise.

The Rogue is an invaluable player, but they’ll need help on their journey. Someone open-minded and persistent to prevent the Rogue from getting too bogged down by Doom is vital. Give them some support and the Rogue will pay it back tenfold.

WITCH OF BLOOD:

The Witch is a bona-fide leader. Charming and charismatic, bonds are something they can easily make with others. Blood is the most important thing in their life after all, being surrounded by friends, family, and a large variety of acquaintances. I can see them being an incredibly out-going person and one who likes to organize things to bring people together. I can see them being stubborn and inflexible about things though, they’re firm in what they believe in and will get into arguments if you disagree with them. Building and severing bonds is easy for the Witch, they change Blood seamlessly – being fluid in their relationships and never stagnating. They may be a bit self-serving but they’re reliable and someone you can depend on.

Witches also tend to rebel or reject the expectations of interaction with their aspect. This really depends on their personality but perhaps this one believes nobody is truly tied down – any bond – no matter how strong – will eventually break down and fade. Maybe they break bonds for petty reasons or have no desire to maintain the responsibility of a friendship. I can see them being quite fickle – but that doesn’t mean they’re callous or don’t care. When they truly believe something is worthy, they’ll do everything in their power to uphold and honor that. While they can hang onto things for dear life, they can just as easily let things go and break away.

The Witch needs to be careful of how they change Blood. This is a power that can be used selfishly and cruelly, the Witch should never forget that bonds and friendships bind both ways. That power exerted over others can just as easily be put upon them! Even if the Witch has a fleeting view of bonds, they can make things permanent by their own hand.

The Witch of Blood works fantastic as a utility support for the team. Diplomacy is handled with ease – enemies can turn to allies in a snap or enemies can turn upon each other and now in-fighting is rampant. Manipulating Blood could work in the literal sense too- manifesting in a way like Hama’s blood bending in Avatar the Last Airbender.

The Witch is a hugely important player, depending on how they end up in the way they change their aspect, they can make even the most unstable group come together. Witches need to use their power in an ethical way and changing people’s bonds is… certainly a topic for discussion. They may genuinely not realize the harm they are causing or at the least, not intend for things to be potentially negative. Someone may need to step up to the Witch and tell them they need to understand exactly what they’re doing impacts others.  

MAGE OF BREATH:

The Mage is quite the loner, they prize their solitude and don’t seem particularly care for getting deeply involved with others. It’s not like they aren’t friendly or social, but they are goal driven and know exactly how to get there – they will leave others behind to chase after what they want to accomplish. I can see them being very ‘go with the flow’ and unbothered by most things. Easy-going by nature but never settling down into one place. They’d probably have an innate good sense of direction and generally being flexible and adaptable to situations.

For Mages, their knowledge comes from experience. Maybe they had to constantly move around their whole life, never getting a chance to properly set down roots. They might’ve had to become independent and self-sufficient far earlier than most. No matter what though, what they have experienced defines Breath for them. The Mage has an idealized vision of how that should be pursued and how it should be done, striving to accomplish so. But it should be noted that this ideal is for making things pleasant for themselves – it may not be the best for others.

The Mage is a great teacher and guide. The path to their goal is easily navigable, easily finding ways to accomplish their wants and interests but others will get swept and pushed in their wake. What may be desirable for the Mage may be the opposite of what someone else is striving for – and the Mage’s detachment and bias may make them dismissive or not realize this conflict looming. The Mage may also struggle with what is possible for them to accomplish and compromising with what they want may leave them disillusioned and lost if their confidence falters.

Depending on if the Mage’s goals align or at least aren’t interfered with by the group – they’ll be able to guide the group to the most straightforward path to their goal. The Mage’s knowledge is incredibly valuable, their insight and experience with their aspect is truly unparalleled. Quick-witted, adaptable, and their power of foresight makes the Mage a fantastic tactician and candidate for leader. They have strong convictions and are ready to take hold on their aspect and make things go to plan.

Despite initially thinking the Mage and Witch are diametrically opposed… I can see them getting along relatively well for what it is. It really depends on their characterization, like if the Witch is particularly pushy and a bit disrespectful for those who aren’t as socially inclined, the Mage could be quite affronted and frustrated by them. On the other hand, the Mage and Witch may have similar views in feeling in that things are not permanent and able to easily understand each other. But even in the best circumstance, I feel like the Mage would be quite put off by the Witch’s powers. Remember, personal freedom is a huge thing for the Mage, and what the Witch is doing is imposing their will to change bonds. Again, characterization dictates how this would go, but that’s something to keep in mind at least.

HEIR OF VOID:

The Heir has been surrounded in Void their entire life, obfuscated in the shadows and the secrets which permeate their life. They mostly keep to themself and might not be all that fond of attention. They may tend to stumble upon secrets without meaning to as well as keeping many of their own. They aren’t an open person at all, and even those who are considered close to the Heir are a bit baffled about them. The Heir is content with this, they don’t really care for sharing information about themself or clearing the air so to speak. They naturally gravitate towards indifference or simply being unaware about things. I can see them getting lost within themselves and their thoughts easily.

The powers the Heir has are incredible. Void powers are very imagination based so becoming Void could go numerous ways. Changing into Void to completely fade away without a trace, changing the irrelevance of someone or something, or turning into a literal blackhole. They will likely have a passive shroud of Void over their whole session, blacking out the session from any potential prying eyes. Due to the nature of being an Heir, I think even the strongest Light players would be unable to pierce this shroud of Void, it is exceptionally powerful. Instead of “inheriting nothing”, the Heir could inherit the knowledge of secret information, hidden objects, and the ability to conceal and reveal such things. Hilariously, I think they could hide in plain sight as well, think of high-level sneak in Skyrim.

But the Heir needs to be careful. They are particularly susceptible to influence from the Horrorterrors, and even irrelevance itself. They could end up consumed by Void and vanish from the session itself, no trace being left behind. They need to take charge of Void and lead it instead of being led by it. Void is a blank canvas of infinite potential, there is so much that can be done by changing it! Taking advantage of the confusion that surrounds them, the shadows themselves, or what is unknown! The limit is the Heir’s creativity and if they can take control of it.

So, a more behind-the-scenes utility-based player! They must tread carefully around the Horrorterrors – their like for the mysterious and unexplainable may inexplicitly draw them closer and closer to their influence – and be consumed by it. Above all, be patient with the Heir. When push comes to shove, they’ll always find a creative and unique solution for the situation.

KNIGHT OF SPACE:

Going by the theory that Knights serve what there is little of in their session, this makes for a very interesting classpect. The session may be lacking beginnings – maybe things start half-way or in progress when it shouldn’t normally be. Prophecies of destiny and fate may be incomplete or absent entirely. Their teammates could also be incredibly impatient or one-track minded with goals, wearing themselves greatly instead of focusing on current events. Or they could be lacking creativity, unable to properly utilize basic Sburb/Sgrub actions, constructs, and alchemizing useful things. It’ll be up to the Knight to help provide and fix these potential problems, as they themself are a patient and creative individual with unorthodox approaches to problems.

Space players tend to be innovators and creative in general, being a Knight as well really amps these traits up since Knights are creative with how they apply their aspect anyway! They’re able to capitalize on this in unusual but practical ways and apply it so it sticks. On the other hand, they may be great at getting a solid start on something, but ultimately jump to the next awesome idea they had without seeing the previous one complete. Their façade may also be connected to their aspect as well. Doubting their own creativity, hiding a deep unease of their place in the world, overwhelmed by the sheer scope of Space, their loneliness, etc.

The Knight has a LOT riding on them. They must make their session functional but also so many core goals of the game depend on them, including the vital frog-breeding duties. Knights already put enormous pressure on themselves and will try to power through things on their own which never ends well. Eventually they begin to wear down, their façade starts cracking or has been completely broken open. The Knight needs some help and support of their own, and if successful will be able to bounce back even better than before!

The Knight is an offensive and defensive powerhouse. Their creativity applies to their fighting as well, making them incredibly dynamic and impossible to predict – especially with their frequent teleportation. They can make basically anything into an effective weapon, utilizing improvision with shocking efficiency. I can see them being a great strategist and tactician as well. They may not be on the same level as a Light or Mind player might be but don’t underestimate their logical capabilities!

ROGUE OF SPACE:

Since you mentioned the Knight possibly being a Rogue instead, I’ll add it in! The Rogue is a talented individual when it comes to matters related to Space, being a passionate scientist or artist but having a lot of self-doubt and insecurity when it comes to their works. They may feel like their ideas are uninspired or unoriginal, that their efforts are embarrassing or a waste. They may also focus too much on making something new and different instead of finishing what they’ve already begun. Despite being incredibly patient, they view themself as hasty and may refrain from acting at all. I can also see them being extremely hesitant to let go of physical objects and being somewhat of a hoarder.

The Rogue has a lot of doubt over their talents and ability to make use of Space. Rogues also tend to isolate themselves by using their aspect, and with Space’s ties to isolation, the Rogue may be very difficult to even get in contact with, or their location incredibly difficult to reach. They need to understand that they have a one-of-a-kind relationship and talent with Space, and they need to share it! They need to realize just how incredibly valuable Space is, especially as it is one of the cardinal aspects. They fear not being up to task, the kind of pressure and responsibilities that come with the duty of being a Space player may make them try to isolate further. They need to understand just how valuable not only Space is, but their own merits like ingenuity and creativity. So many amazing things can be accomplished by sharing their ideas and creative thoughts with their teammates! Like I said for the Knight also applies, their logical capabilities can also go a long way!

As far as powers, the Rogue will have a jack-of-all trades kind of set. They can teleport themself and others with ease, being a very reliable source of transportation. Stealing space around objects to move them is also easily done! Combat-wise they could protect others by stealing the velocity or speed of incoming projectiles, redirection… etc. Redistributing the characteristics and proportions of one object from another, swapping the sizes of objects, extremely cool stuff! Rogue powers are very imagination based and I’m quite sure the Rogue will have no problem coming up with unorthodox methods of utilizing this to their advantage.

In the end, reassurance and encouragement will help a lot, the Rogue just needs a bit of support to help build themself up a bit and will grow greatly from there.

PRINCE OF TIME:

Just as a preface – a destruction class with one of the cardinal aspects does not automatically doom the session. No class is inherently good or evil, and the session isn’t screwed because you have a Bard/Prince of Space/Time. Destruction is not always a bad thing.

The Prince’s relationship with Time is volatile and more likely than not, at odds with the very concept. Holding some degree of disdain, fear, or even hatred of Time pushes them away from it, actively rejecting or refusing to face Time. This causes them to be pushed more towards Time’s counterpart – Space. I can see them being a creative person, pursuing or being very interested in art or anything arts related. They’re always starting something new or recycling ideas but never actually progressing in their efforts. They may even be conflict-adverse and oddly passive, being hesitant or slow to act. Maybe they’re deeply afraid of death and their own mortality as well. I can still see them having the drive of not accepting things as they are but being more out of pure stubbornness if it’s not exactly the way they want things to go.

For a Prince of Time that ghosts, they likely have a few of the more ‘negative’ traits associated with Space. They could be detached from others and likely apathetic. Seeing the big picture but completely skipping over details and what will happen in the future. There’s many, many ways a Prince’s relationship to their aspect and counterpart aspect could go. Don’t forget they’re still a Time player, it’s just that their avoidance or outright disdain for their aspect muddles things.

The Prince will also have to deal with their own ego, they can be extremely hard on themselves and end up hesitant and deeply self-deprecating. On the other hand, they might think they are the only one capable, believing they can do it better than anyone else and end up deeply damaging their relationships to others. It’s a matter of finding balance with not only their ego, but Time as well. They do not need to completely embrace Time, but merely understand that it cannot be destroyed entirely, or at least, without careful consideration of the consequences. Once they manage a better somewhat better relationship to Time, they gradually become more action-oriented and thinking more of the goal and the end. They may become less fearful of inevitability and endings, finally accepting that all things must end someday.

They may need some reminders to be diligent and a push to get things done early on, but the Prince can achieve some amazing feats of raw destruction when applied. Time is linked to destruction after all, and the Prince is a truly terrifying foe when it comes to being on the offensive. They’ll of course be able to time travel, time stop, skip time, and even removing specific events and moments within a timeline! I’d say one of the best examples of a Prince of Time’s powers in action is King Crimson from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. That’s some solid Time power fuckery right there.

An incredibly solid player, but Princes are hard to predict. There’s a lot of different things that I didn’t touch on because it’s INCREDIBLY dependent on how the Prince progresses. And again, there’s the matter of over-embracing (which can be especially devastating with a destroyer class) under-embracing, being true… etc. A Prince can do a great deal of good and harm in equal measure.

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Overall, this is an intriguing session. I think it could work well-enough despite having a few bumps here and there. If you go with the Knight and them representing what lacks in a session though, I’d be extremely concerned with not having a Seer. The game will be incredibly difficult to navigate, and while the Mage will be of great help when it comes to guidance, they are a very solitary person and may be reluctant to assist if it detracts from their goal in any way.  

As for general struggles - The Rogue(s) may end up isolating themselves to an unhealthy degree and someone may need to help pull them out of it. The Knight would be trying, but they’re stretched thin as it is. The Witch is going to be putting a lot of work in to getting this group together, but at times may feel pressured or use their powers as a last resort to prevent things from escalating. Grounding the Mage to what is tangible and achievable is a bit of a hurdle too, they will likely find this out on their own but it’s going to sting deeply. The Rogue will help in easing that but I’d say the Knight can help ground the Mage before they get too swept away.

For adding things - I feel like a Sylph with an aspect Breath or Blood may be a good fit to stabilize things a bit more. They would keep tabs on the Prince and help create direction for them, be encouraging to the Rogue, help bring the Mage and Heir closer to the group, and likely stop in-fighting from becoming too serious. This would help take some of the pressure of the Knight too, but I’d say the session could work without anything added!

[abrushwithdeath]

@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats

Continued from here!

It wasn’t that honesty didn’t come easily to her- in fact, she had a bad habit of being a little too blunt sometimes. The issue here, instead, was that emotional honesty was harder. Vulnerability felt like a poison. She knew it shouldn’t, but you grow up learning to keep those emotions, those thoughts to yourself and eventually it becomes the norm. It feels like to do otherwise is a betrayal or... something punishable. Maybe that was it. Vulnerability had only lead to hurt in the past, and she associated the two so closely that she couldn’t help the anxiety, the anticipation of backlash, that rose inside of her, made her chest feel heavy.  But she had been open with Remy that day in the danger room, and he hadn’t turned her away for it. He hadn’t used it against her, or turned on her, or lashed out at her even when he could have so easily done so. His words, in a few places, had maybe come across a little harsh- but it was what she’d needed. Someone to challenge her perception, to give her the push she needed to challenge it herself, too.  So she was trying... she was trying not to let herself fall back into that space of questioning him when he gave her no reason to. He’d comforted her, reassured her, given her peace of mind. The least she could do was not take that all for granted.  Even in just admitting she was nervous, especially without his prompting, that was something. A small step, but one she took for him. And, in plenty of ways, for herself as well. For them.

In return she was gifted that smile. That alone would have been enough to put her at ease. But it was the words he offered that really soothed her.  Hearing that she wasn’t alone in the feeling was comforting. A small, if unintentional, reminder that they were in this together.  She reminded herself, as he spoke, that, in a lot of ways, he knew her. Better than she’d thought anyone ever might. He understood that this was going to be a process, and not an easy one, either. Rogue wouldn’t mean it intentionally or with ill will, and she was already trying her best to put those thoughts to rest... but she was bound to pull back. Maybe even to lash out if she felt scared or cornered. This was a lot deeper, after all, than just what she wanted. It was about what she could handle, and what she felt she deserved. What limitations she’d placed on herself without even knowing it. Boundaries she’d built that she wasn’t yet aware of. 

Remy was kind, though. And she believed him when he said that they’d go at her pace. No rush. They had time. ....... How much time did they have, though? He was patient now, but for how long would that last? What if this proved too tedious or too difficult? Or she proved too demanding in her assertions to keep to herself when she couldn’t bear to be touched? What if she simply wasn’t meant for this? Was that why her powers had manifested as such? Some sign that she was doomed to be alone with herself from first breath to last? There was a second in which the smile she offered him dimmed slightly. Not for anything he’d said- because of herself. Her own, stupid, worries. But when she realized what her mind was saying, that automatic reaction to make excuses to pull back, she shut it down. If they were doing this, if she wanted even just a shot at making this work, she had to make an effort to stop this shit. To rework her way of thinking.  To trust him. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, in what Remy was saying that gave her reason to think he wasn’t going to give her the patience she needed, or that he was going to get irritated if it took her a while to adjust.  They were going at her pace. That’s what he’d said. Her pace. He was giving her that control, that safety, letting her know that he wasn’t walking into this with the intentions of rushing her. And she had no reason not to believe him.  Despite those few seconds in which she’d had to stop herself from spiraling, she found her balance again. Calm. That tension eased back out of her expression, out of her posture, even out of the way she looked at him. She’d recognized the intrusive thoughts, recognized that they came not from a place of logic, but fear, and she’d quelled them.  It would, of course, have been better had the thoughts not come at all- but at least she’d not let them consume her. Had snuffed them out before they could do more than cause a moment of doubt.  That was progress, right? It had to be. She couldn’t... couldn’t change that poor pattern of mistrust and self-doubt overnight, but she was trying.

Rogue nodded when he said she had to tell him if she didn’t like something. Communication, though not her strongest suit, was going to be key in making this work. On her part and on his.  The idea of it sent spiders crawling up her spine, though. A breath just a bit deeper than the last. The anxious twitch of fingers. There was going to be a lot that they had to talk about, she knew. In that, there would be a lot of missteps, chances for her to close herself off from him again. Even a moment as simple as this was enough to arouse the fear she was trying to suppress. But like before, she pressed it back down. She couldn’t let it begin to re-piece together the recently crumbled wall of defense that Remy had finally broken through. There was, after all, a bit of solace that she had found in all of this. In not having to be constantly on guard around him.

She let her fingers tentatively find his. A tether back down to the reality of this. He cared about her. Enough to make an effort. Enough to have learned her. Enough to be here with her now.  “Havin’ ya pinned against a wall was kinda fun, though.” She joked, feeling at ease, returning his gaze without the hesitation she’d so often had with him, “Wouldn’t mind doin’ it again- under the right conditions, a’course.” She added the last part to fall in line with what he had said, to playfully let him know she was listening and that maybe, maybe, those conditions could be met in time. Sooner rather than later, she hoped.  This was where it was going to get difficult though. What was she okay with?  Not what did she think Remy wanted her to be okay with. But what was she actually okay with? It wasn’t that she was a people pleaser, generally speaking. She doubted anyone would accuse her of such. Though at times like this, when it came to the idea of love in any form- well, she may have been a stubborn, pain in the ass, sometimes, but when she was vying for the affection she craved she sometimes couldn’t help but cave in. Let herself do what she thought was expected of her in a misguided attempt to earn the love she wanted. To be worthy of it. “Hand holdin’s good.” She commented, gently tapping her gloved fingers where their hands met, a soft smile on her lips, “Huggin’s always fine, too.” In fact, she’d wanted him to hold her again, she just... hadn’t had the nerve to say as much. She was still navigating it, after all, trying to find a way to vocalize these things. But Remy had started the discussion, and she felt safer in answering him than in saying it all outright, unprompted, “An’ cuddlin’s a must, so we’re gonna have to figure that out, even if Fig ain’t too keen t’share ya.” She joked. Of course she had no intentions of stealing Remy away from his kids (even if they were cats), buuuuut... maybe Figaro wouldn’t be entirely against sharing. The smile on her face had widened a bit as she settled into the conversation. Though it fell to something more contemplative in the moment that followed, “Kissin’... kissin’d be nice.” Yes, like he said, it had to be against clothes- no skin contact- but even so, the sentiment would still be there. The thought of his lips against her, even with the fabric in between, was a pleasant one. Was it bad that her senses were already alight, as if in anticipation? It was odd how close that warm feeling of excitement felt to anxiety. Opposite sides of the same sensation. How many times had her mind confused the two?

Rogue soon returned to fidgeting. When her fingers tapped this time, it was with a nervous energy as opposed to the more playful motions of a couple moments prior. He wasn’t suggesting anything he knew she couldn’t do. He wasn’t asking her for anything she wasn’t comfortable with. The issue was that she wanted it all. Even the things she couldn’t have. But what she was actually okay with in practice rather than theory? She wasn’t entirely sure. “What... other stuff we talkin’?” She finally asked. It was her way of telling him she was okay with opening the subject up, but without having to name it herself. She wasn’t exactly shy about the idea of “other stuff”, but, for now, there was still a bit of nervousness to all of this on her end. She didn’t even know where to start. Remy had more experience in this, though. Letting him lead the topic made sense. 

[dxwnxdusk]

[ SACRIFICE ] with Chang'e being wounded quite a bit >:)

Macaque was not prepared. Running low on steam from sleepless nights pensive over his thoughts and emotions, it affected his awareness and overall ability to function. Slower, more careless and mind too full of a certain pesky goddess and how this would affect him after so much good progress… he was unfortunately an easy target. Dealing with demons and trying to protect himself on her home turf and the alike, he was sluggish, half-hearted in his attempts.  

In the end, it was his downfall. His and Chang’e’s.

Clumsiness and not paying attention made him fall for a trap he’d commonly spot. Carelessness for his own well being had been counterproductive and… seemingly, the demons were fine with taking him and not Chang’e. That… was all right. If his error spared Chang’e another round of anguish, he was content with his unfortunate fate. Smothering was the energy slowly creeping up his form, grotesque limbs holding onto him with sharp claws digging in, bleeding from wounds he’d likely not heal. Eyes closing, he was…

“Macaque!”

…saved?

Eyes snapping open at inevitable doom being stalled, Macaque stared up at his savior. Holding onto him for dear life was Chang’e. No, no, no, you have to let me go – she’d wind up stuck with him, that wasn’t the plan – let go, let GO LET GO – reflexively his own grip on that hand firmed, preventing him from being pulled further into the hellish hoard – Chang’e, please, let me go.

Chang’e didn’t let him go. Instead, he was wrenched free with unimaginable power. Macaque tumbled through the air before expelling some of his own energy to steady himself. Swiveling around on the spot, he noticed how he’d been thrown away from the minions holding him down, in favor of the massive attack of raging ice now sweeping downwards. Eyes widening at what he saw, he froze in the air. Breath caught in his throat, his tail fur bristled, and his heart and stomach simultaneously sank.  

“W-wait, I—” he tried to call out but his intonation barely rose above croaking. A feeble, shaking hand extended out toward Chang’e who was slowly being swallowed by the masses, the enemy which she’d hadn’t need to face, throwing herself into harms way in his stead – “C-Chang’e—!” Was that his voice? All broken and breathless? He’d not heard himself vocalize like that before.

The explosion that occurred from the energy of not only the goddess unleashing her own attack into spiraling heart of the 'storm', taking the attack meant for him and unleashing an incredible amount of power he'd suspected she'd have. Except for the way she flies back into him, colliding into him with a force that sends him skidding back, arms moving to support the now limp goddess, there's too much – The damage, he can't fix such damage. Her name is strained on his lips, open horror at the fact she'd taken such a step in his stead.

Despite running low on reserves, Macaque’s miserable anger fueled new life for him. Having slowly let the shadows pool around him, the form comes naturally, the giant that expressed his suffering, his rage at it's peak. The 'kaiju's' mouth opening to reveal teeth as it bellows, accompanying his own yell of rage. Outraged sparks of energy left him each time his hands clenched into fists wishing to embed in some poor soul who came near. Which he'd take out on the pathetic lot that dared to come onto the moon to cause trouble. He doesn't care for the fact he's about to massacre the souls in front of him, they'd been willing to kill him and the goddess of the very domain, there was no NEED for a shred of mercy.

He'd EVISCERATE them for what they did to Chang'e

[knifepatron]

(reposting bc the last one got messed up) 

part 1 of some precanon changelily thoughts which i will try my best 2 explain under the cut

so basically copy-pasting what i said on twitter: (this isnt any kind of theory this is just headcanon stuff that spiraled into a whole thing i spent way too much time thinking about)

also everyone should read this thread from mr damato about travis and margaret and fate and luminaries first its rly tasty and i pulled a lot from it (not gonna link it bc tumblr will eat the whole post but heres the first twt in case yall wanna search for it which u should)

and! this isnt necessarily taken directly from characterizations in the show as much as it is like, stuff i thought would be a fun precursor to the versions of them we have now

with what we know abt margarets view of fate as duty and travises view of it as loss of agency its fun 2 think the first time their story played out as margaret trying to live up to a kind of protagonist heroism and travis sorta stuck in the role of distressed love interest. we also know they both knew the changelings tale and were probably kind of aware of their own role in some iteration of it, but i think travis was genre savvy in a “i can understand the story conventions at play here and use them to my advantage” way and margaret was narrative aware like this

more on the travis thing. a lot of his Deal has to do with a sense of narrative, cosmic powerlessness that he flips between broodingly resigning himself to, lashing out against by being impulsive and self destructive, and playing up around others when its useful

in the gencon eps he says since starfall hes gotten by getting people to help him out by lying and making up tragic backstories for himself but we learn in ngoni hes never even tried to learn anything abt his whole changeling situation. he’ll seek help from people but not for himself AS himself, only as whatever pitiable but charming role hes inhabiting at any given time because vulnerability sucks so much ass!!! and its easier and also very much safer to accept shelter from people while keeping them at arms length by making them think youre something youre not so you can cut when they stop being useful

so idk knowing even before margaret entered the picture he was always kinda Like That i have a hard time imagining hed just like, get a crush on some rando in the woods. also i think romances based in several layers of artifice and performance that accidentally develop something genuine are fun

and like, if morningstar saw enough in him as a child to decide he shouldve gotten sent to the shadow realm, we like 2 joke abt travis being the Worst Guy but in addition to puppeting the captains body around and rigging the crew vote what else is on the heavier side of the spectrum of shitty things he could do? find some kind snake-pitying mortal and use her willingness to help him and their shared knowledge of story conventions to pull her into a doomed fable just to spite tfq and test the limits of his own power as a/the Changeling? idk maybe. i think it was to orimar that travis said when youre alive for so long you have to make little games to keep yourself sharp

so at least at first he doesnt seek margarets help against tfq as himself, he does it as The Changeling, or as Tam Lin, or as William the mythological archetype, as someone who can be saved by The Maiden and play a part in her story to make her feel important and useful because he knows thats what she wants. like ig in a way trying to kickstart your own insisting-on-itself luminary myth in such a way that you can keep a certain level of self awareness and control over it. learning the rules to break them and all that

but genre savvy and wont save you!! you changeling in the game you changeling in real life!!!! and now youre in love love with the mark of your con because unfortunately part of her whole thing is being very easy to fall in love with

but then like. what if she only cares about you for the image of yourself youve tailored to her lure her into helping you? isnt that what you wanted? what if she realizes your deception and leaves? what if she doesnt and dies here?

and theres a bitterness with someone taking for granted freedoms you dont have, throwing them away to be with you and for what? because she pities you? because she thinks she can save you? because doing so would serve her own self image? how dare she. pictures unrelated (im sorry women specifically crane wives mabel podcast and mitski for taking contextless bits for scraps to apply to little podcast guys)

so where does the tragic changeling performance as an emotional manipulation tactic end and the genuine cry for help self-justified as a narrative 4d chess power play begin? idk

will get more into my thoughts abt margarets whole deal later but i have finals this week so that might not happen for a minute egehge 

[bucksfucks]

𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for. 

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

     Ex-wife.

    Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

    His ex-wife was threatening you.

    And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

    “Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

    That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

    Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

    Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

    “I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

    You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

    “There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

    It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

    But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

    Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

    How far back?

    You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

    “Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence. 

    “I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.” 

    You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers. 

    And you knew exactly who to go to for them. 

    “I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?” 

    You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door. 

    Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was. 

    It felt...wrong. 

    But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front     door. 

    You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway. 

    The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd. 

    People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more. 

    You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just     to get a look at. 

    The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor. 

    You were so close, before you were stopped. 

    “Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him. 

    “I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors. 

    “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

    “It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left. 

    The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls. 

    “This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

    He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.” 

    You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office. 

    It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony. 

    Tony was an old friend, sort of.

    He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother. 

    So just one giant pain in your ass.

    “So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

    You told Tony everything. 

    From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do. 

    Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy. 

    “I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer. 

    “Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.” 

    He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped. 

    There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

    You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with. 

    “Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony. 

    “Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug. 

    “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with. 

    It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start. 

    Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour. 

    The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it. 

    Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married. 

    Married. 

    You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him. 

    Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go. 

    The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it. 

    You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it. 

    It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace. 

    You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day. 

    Everything led you right back to Bucky. 

    So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky. 

    Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear. 

    “You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you. 

    “He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

    He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.” 

    This time, it was your turn to fall silent. 

    “Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.” 

    “They had spies, agents, hit-men.” 

    No. You shook your head, no. 

    “James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.” 

    You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you. 

    “Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.” 

    You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name. 

    “By that point it looks like James—” 

    “Bucky. His name is Bucky.” 

    Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.” 

    That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though. 

    “Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.” 

    He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.” 

    “Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.” 

    With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    “So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?” 

    Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island. 

    “That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name. 

    He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it. 

    “But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer. 

    “Unfinished business.” 

    They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky. 

    “Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile. 

    “Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.” 

    Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race. 

    He was worried. 

    Not about himself, but about you. 

    And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough. 

    So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

    “We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

    You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

    “I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

    “I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

    There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

    “You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

    Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body. 

    “I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him. 

    You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think. 

    “Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself. 

    “And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt. 

    And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed. 

    “Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.” 

    Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it. 

    “Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself. 

    “God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.” 

    You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words. 

    “Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.” 

    Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming. 

    He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

    You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap. 

    “I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.” 

    You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name. 

    Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums. 

    “If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment. 

    “Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you. 

    “Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him. 

    “I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him. 

    “I love you too, Sweets.” 

    It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do. 

[tomatograter]

Do you think Dirk saying that he doesn't like to label himself as gay means he has internalized homophobia? Or does he really just don't like to put labels on himself? I've seen ppl saying it's homophobia but there's ppl in real life that don't feel comfortable with labels so I'm a bit confused honestly, cus we are talking about Dirk and he's... Dirk after all

Easy answer: Dirk is Gay.

Prolonged answer: I think it's kinda weird how some fandom discussion around "Dirk dodging the label in One pesterlog" has largely spiraled way outside of its original context to be talked about in a vacuum, especially when that context is crucial to understanding what is actually being said, AKA — it belongs to a deeply awkward conversation between Dirk and Roxy. One of Many they are implied to have had about the subject of Roxy's sustained, unwelcome, and oft drunken advances towards Dirk (& his splinters).

I'm going to reproduce it plus another bit of text down below, for the sake of comparison.

(To prevent the trickster text from looking like absolute shit, I have altered the background. Read the original here, if you're nasty: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5754 )

Now that we've been reacquainted with how and where that sentiment is expressed, let's try to break down what Dirk is doing here.

He is not receptive to Roxy's early advances, and spends most of the 'intro' for this conversation (not pictured) ignoring when Roxy flirts with him, until she gets upset at how 'boring' he is being right now.

Dirk is the one compelled to apologize.

He proceeds to shut the scenario down as an unwanted probability, eliciting further guilt-babbling from Roxy over how Dirk never wants to play along with the perfect traditional family fantasy, until she finally blows up and says it's because he's gay.

"I mean, yeah, that's what I thought."

Dirk, rather than saying I Am Not Gay, since he looooooves changing a conversational subject, claims that "Gay" is not entirely historically appropriate for this situation, given the non-negligible passage of time and the wildly dystopic circumstances* they find themselves in.

Dirk reassures Roxy he does still care about her.

Dirk is absolutely terrified of a similarly inclined (and intoxicated) Roxy up close. This is the most exclamations he's ever used.

Now, *These circumstances? The loss of 99% of the human race, including their society, customs, culture, and prejudices. (ALLEGEDLY.) It's important to remember that from Dirk and Roxy's side of the timetable, troll culture has been pushed as "the norm" for actual fucking centuries. HIC tried to recreate the caste system by artificially coloring human blood, leading to the death of billions. Faygo came out of the water tap, not water. Troll slang was incorporated into the English language. Humans ceased to organically reproduce. They were actively Discouraged from reproducing, since that's not something HIC could have total genetic control over; rendering traditional marriage and the concept of the nuclear family pointless.

You could also argue that same-gender relationships are not uncommon in Alternia, making "gay" altogether unnecessary by proxy, and that's true! But my point is this one: any union (or at least our society's holy concept of it) between straightie humans would be by definition undesirable under HIC's rule, too. She is the church, the president and the governing body. The population is only as good as they are assets for her to do whatever she wants with, including mass murder.

But wait! While that tracks… Roxy clearly still holds onto very 'conservative' definitions of romance for most of Homestuck. We see this multiple times. Dirk, as proved in conversations with Jake, uses 'gay' as an ironic pejorative. Suddenly it's not Historically Inaccurate anymore, Jake's interests are just gay.

Does this mean the context above is basically worthless, since they don't seem to have internalized it? No.

What must be kept in mind is this: Dirk and Roxy's only "active" link to de facto humanity is our society as it was in the early 2010's. Those glimpses they get by talking with jane and jake. They have all that dystopic context, yes, but the reality that seems the most "unfucked" to them for a grand majority of their lives are the halcyon years before the Condesce's rise to power: back when weed was illegal, BlogSpot was popular, movies sucked, MTV was still a hip channel, and gay generally meant something real bad. The wave of homophobia as a punchline or fear mongering tactic was at THE HEIGHTS. Marriage equality was a hot debate topic. Those were the dayz.

Dirk is keenly aware of the taboo implication the word "Gay" as a self-denomination carries. He's no dummy. But he's rarely direct with his intentions either. He's slippery as a bar of soap. (He's never "straight about his feelings", if you prefer.) And for a guy that cares so much about his reputation and maintaining a curated sense of utter coolness, he wants to avoid outing himself as any sort of weirdo no matter the cost.

But that's not all. I think the gravity of just how much Dirk believes he *owes* Roxy simply for existing as the last human in the same timeframe as her is a severely underplayed aspect of Dirk's core character, together with how much he tries to avoid her sexual advances only to end up feeling like absolute shit over it, because — if they truly are the last people on god's blighted earth, isn't he being "selfish" and "irrational" about not feeling shit for Roxy, in the grand scale of things? Is Roxy not his only friend in tangible reality, even if he avoids the mere suggestion of visiting her? Even if she gets black-out drunk and tries to push him into indulging her, regardless of how many times he's already said no?

(Spend enough time here and you realize how it directly mirrors the jane/jake experience.)

Dirk cares a lot about each and every one of his friends.

He pointedly adapts his speech based on whichever one of them he's talking to in an effort to express that investment. May it be reassuring Jane, fooling around with Jake, or trying to prevent Roxy from falling into a total catatonic doom-spiral; he avoids telling them anything that would be too crushing to hear. That's not what he's trying to do here. Not to say that he isn't bitchy sometimes, but that’s far from the central thing he does. The Epilogues have retroactively led people to believe that Dirk abhors and despises every single person he's ever been close to before (god forbid) LIKING them, and I think buying too much into that assumption ignores the foundations of his canon text, as well as the central motivation behind 99% of his actions in the story. This is the guy that grew up on Friendship Is Magic, has a picture of rainbow dash shamefully glued to one wall and a rainbow poster of Jake's symbol stapled to another, and everything he does is a little cringe attempt to demonstrate his worth by showing how much he cares about people, even when he's punching his actual feelings down instead of up and saying them.

Which brings us back to the load-bearing part of this question: Admitting to Roxy that there is absolutely no fucking way he will ever agree to having her babbys because he is gay is precisely the opposite of what Dirk wants to say, if his intention isn't pulverizing her. So he doesn't. And his worry on this regard is such that it prevents Dirk from even telling Roxy that he does love her, in the platonic sense, as a friend and hell-earth survivor, because he knows that specificity is what that would disappoint her greatly. (He only ever confesses this to Jane, on the death slabs.)

But also I think this is a really funny visual of Dirk's relationship with the word gay, to put statements into perspective: