#scratches the walls

[sennamybeloved]

going from “khotun deserved to die and i’m happy they jin got his victory” to a sobbing widowed wife in the same breath

[tteokdoroki]

:(( im thinking that sae is begrudgingly one of those boyfriends who makes those tiktoks with you where he pulls up your thigh highs or squeezes your thigh on camera bc he likes how you squeal when he does it n he knows you adore his hands on you

[tubbocio]

everyone hates me personally on the dsmp

[cavernaterrae]

A Little Party never hurt Anybody PT. 2

Self-shipper: @avistella

Main characters: Lunaliya and Jade

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

(Entire Story) Summary: Tit for tat, a trick for each lick, Jade isn’t one to take something sitting, especially if it involves friends or family

Jade was not one to be seen as impulsive, yet he found himself having trouble in staying still when he saw Lunaliya’s hunched form. 

The woman was curled, tucked away into a corner of a little-used hallway. He had been looking for a place to later use as the dead end with which to corner a debt runner in, but for once, thoughts of carefully plotted treachery were outweighed by concern.

He made his presence known, his steps a touch louder, as he approached. As he grew closer, he could see that much of her hand was purple and bruised. She looked up, catching his gaze for a moment before looking away. Jade did not reproach her; he stood near her for a few minutes, letting her gather herself some before he finally spoke.

“Good evening.”

She took a deep breath, her back rising as if she were filling herself with whatever it is one needed when conversing.

“..Hello…”

She shifted her arms, the movement of her sleeves revealing a brief glimpse of the bruises that continued on.

He looked towards her, but she simply stared back.

He gestured with a hand.

“Do you mind sharing?”

She stared, as if assessing.

“...No thank you.”

“Are you sure? We could make a nice deal for you, a two-for-one sort of thing…or would a three-for-one be more appropriate?”

The twitch of her eyes was all that gave it away. There was little chance that this was done by herself, and, more often than not, the type of students who were foolish enough to do something so clear were the kind to do so in groups, like schools of tuna without the taste that makes the hunt worthwhile.

However, perhaps it was time to go catch some morsels, he would just ne-

“Don’t.”

He returned his gaze to her as she stood. She was shorter, as most were, but strangely it did not take away from her noble air as she looked back, firm.

“I refuse to fight back against children. I also refuse to allow a child to fight on my behalf.”

She was closer to frail than healthy, more of a person who dwelled in the background rather than led the march, but in this moment there was strength in her small frame and quiet voice. It was a quality that gave him pause, so rare was it for him to feel compelled to listen to anyone for no profit, much less an adult.

He had spent most of his life feeling akin to the large eel in the small pond, after all.

“...There is not much you can do to stop me, should I so feel the urge.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t say ‘you can’t’. I don’t have the power to stop you, but I can reject your offer for aid, and now you know that, if they so much as stub their toe too hard, it will harm what level of trust you’ve built with me…”

Her uninjured hand went to graze across the fingers upon the other.

“I have nothing to give or hold over you, all I can do is ask you not to, in respect of me.”

They were there, silent, until the bell gave warning.

Jade began to make to leave, when her posture eased. She gave what was the barest attempt of a smile, that for any other would have been the least of efforts, but from her, in this moment, was worth all the will she had.

“It would be bad business to go that far for no profit, don’t you think?”

Her attempt at humor garnered a smile, one that took no effort but had no feeling to it, as hollow a gesture as his bow.

He gave no promise, no fake words to appease her as he went on his way, his mind and heart working together in rare occasion as he made a choice.

-------------------------------------

It was some weeks later, and the Octavinelle dorm and there wasn’t a free member to be seen in the small realm. A ‘charity’ party was being held, the charity being one few seemed to recognize; people seemed to focus less on the questionable identity of the goals and more on the exclusivity of the event. 

Various members of the dorm were sent as couriers, bringing tickets to people with  no rhyme or reason that others could tell.

A dressed up Jade paused  from his duties as a familiar figure entered.

Lunaliya was in a conservative dress and long gloves, accentuating the elegant air she had about her (when she was not ransacking the kitchen in the middle of the night).

He approached her as she looked around her surroundings, taking in the festivities. He gave a polite bow, to which she gave a deep nod, a queen in standing.

“I assure you, it is up to code.”

She snorted.

“So another night goes without me fulfilling my dream of busting a teen party.”

He put a hand to his chest, a look of faint aghast lessened by the smile at the tips of his lips.

“Why, what part of this charity event could be compared to some children’s party? Perhaps we need another, to raise funds for your eye health?”

“Maybe you should wait until this one finishes without any investigations on just who owns this ‘charity’ the money is going to.”

She showed her ticket, slightly different from the others by a single word upon it.

“And what kind of charity event has chaperones?”

He quirked his head, a smile as polite yet nefarious as ever.

“Would you prefer I send no invite? I thought you might doubt our goodwill if we refused observation, and, quite frankly, it would have been rude to send them out to those of each house except yours.”

She watched him, gaze probing, but she eventually nodded, relaxing some. He took the opportunity to offer her a hand.

“Now that we’ve the pleasantries out the way, what do you say to a dance?”

Lunaliya seemed a bit perturbed at the suggestion, but he kept his hand extended.

“Why not chaperone from the dance floor? It is the area most likely to have misconduct at a party, after all.”

She let out a chuckle at his hushed tone and wink, finally taking his hand and allowing him to lead her to the floor.

They kept a small distance as they dance; they did not follow some dance to a T, but they weren’t doing whatever came to them. He did something of a square as she followed, misstepping and stumbling here and there, the mistakes unusually bringing a cheery smile that she did little to hold back as he kept going, reminded of dancing with Floyd once when they were younger and recently gone onto the land.

As they danced, there was a commotion at the entrance. Her head turned, but he turned them together in time, keeping her from seeing even a hint of what might be happening outside.

She arched a brow.

He smiled back in reply, her unasked question going unanswered, a silent conversation in expression.

He had not gone against her.

She did not want revenge against the trio, nor did she want him to exact revenge. She had never said a thing about finding out who did it.

And, after the discovery, he had done nothing against them for what they did to her. He did not even trick them.

As the dorm was sending out invites, one of its small, loner students just so happened to go by the isolated place they tend to linger, with tickets in hand. Jade had no way to know that they would actually try and take them, and he had only the best of intentions when he told the student beforehand to give up the tickets should he be threatened.

Just as they had not known that each ticket had their intended recipient’s name on them in black light.

So if they were punished for threatening an Octanivelle student, theft, and trespassing; why, that had nothing to do with her or revenge, now did it?

They danced on, a satisfaction tinging his smile.

-----------

It was quiet after the party ended, but it was not silent.A sole violinist continued to play inside as the rest cleaned, uniforms mussed but begrudgingly satisfied smiles despite their chore.

The two stood outside, the stars clear and twinkling.

There was a sense of comfort; not a jovial one, like when they were in the midst of retorts, but a calm one, like when the extended family left and there was no one but those you were close to left.

After some time, she spoke, keeping her eyes on the stars.

"Thank you…"

He did the same.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

He glanced down, saw the sincere smile on her face, her eyes reflecting the stars some, and he looked up, his expression mirroring hers.

“And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being.”

In the quiet they stayed, even the violin and the sounds of cleaning dying away.

They stayed, as quiet and constant as the stars.

[watchyourbuck]

No bc what wrecks me it’s how sweet and respectful Tommy was. He guided Buck’s lips into his own but he didn’t pressure him, he gave him time and space to pull back if he wanted to. He didn’t grab him, nor did he deepen the kiss. Then they pulled back, and this man, with his entire heart in his hand, asked two times if it was okay, if that’s what Buck wanted, because picking up on signs can only go so far. And smiled when he explicitly told him yes. Only after did he straighten his shirt and ask him out.

[hinamie]

congrats on your recovery n all yuuji but unfortunately for you I thought the scars were cool >:/

[wtfforged]

artblock free me from your foul clutches

[clouvu]

Offering lil doodles of them bc my eyes have been opened

[taroddori]

this trio... PHEW

[kcrra]

alicent losing her power and therefore her sense of the dutiful identity she's built her entire life around and immediately reverting back to wearing the blue of her childhood

[this-too-shall-bleed]

mr. scratch but it’s like the scene where john is staring up at the ceiling in terror as arthur begins an episode of absolutely traumatic sleep paralysis (youknow the one)

just the inking version is kinda cool (I was hesitant as hell to put down paint because this took like 4 hours) originally the orientation was flipped like this but I think it kind of makes more sense visually in the first image? I don’t know ceiling creature perspective is wacky upside down you go

thank you @ellamenop for the idea!

[iite-cool]

thinking about simon being like a cat. a mean ol' one all teeth and claws, scratching and hissing when you stretch a hand out to him. biting you because that's all he knows how to do - it's all he's ever done - and it's kept him alive.

that's what his whole life's been about - staying alive. surviving. maiming anything he sees before it can get to him first. so he doesn't know how to react when you don't bare your teeth at him but just smile and make him tea. he reacts like a stray cat does when it's offered warmth - he's confused. and his confusion gives way to anger and again he spits fire because what else is he to do? accept your kindness? bah! it's a hoax, he knows that. you'll tire of him and claw at his neck sooner or later so he'd rather not let you close enough to do so.

and when you don't give up, and you keep smiling that gorgeous, dazzling smile at him, he doesn't know what to do. no one's ever done this before - been all soft and sweet and only wanting to be allowed to scratch at his ears in reward. why were you doing this? why didn't you run away when you saw how he snarled at you? why do you look at him with those big, beautiful eyes like he's the only person in the world?

at a complete loss, he lets you pet him and oh that smile he'd let you tear his heart out if you would just keep smiling at him. "hey, simon!" god, he wants to drown in the sound of your lips wrapping around his name. you come close to him and his brain stops working, eyes wide and lost when you wrap your arms around him and pull him to you. warmth. is this what it feels like? he wants to live forever in the crux of your arms, creating a life for himself between them.

he couldn't stop purring if he tried, if he were a cat he'd spend the rest of his time on this earth, the earth that tried to bury and kill him and is now making amends by sending him you, running between your legs and swishing his tail around you. simon riley who's always had his head on a swivel, who's not gotten a full night's sleep in a decade lest he miss the chance to look his reaper in the eyes, now sleeps with his head on your lap, belly up and purring.

masterlist

please comment/reblog!! i have so many thoughts about this man that need to be talked about

[metanarrates]

there are a LOT of things you can speculate about regarding what twsa was actually like as a novel but what's most interesting to me is that you can make the argument that twsa was an "unpolished" version of what orv is. it's a version of a similar novel that likely dealt with a lot of similar themes but was seemingly bogged down by poor structure, pacing, expository handling, and focus. (all of which are things that orv is shockingly excellent at.)

and of course, han sooyoung's novel, sssss-grade infinite regressor, is the "polished" version of the idea. it's well-written, probably well-plotted, and was successful enough to make han sooyoung rich and famous. we don't know what sssss-grade infinite regressor is like as a novel either, but we sort of get the impression that it's not very emotionally rich even if it is good on a technical level. han sooyoung herself doesn't seem intensely attached to it despite being proud of her work, and kim dokja of course doesn't hold it in high regard. (though of course he's a gigantic unreliable narrator and also a hater.)

what's interesting is that despite orv very strongly emphasizing the ways these works are flawed from the outset, orv itself functions as an argument in these works' favor. both twsa and infinite regressor are stand-ins for the "mass-produced" genre of webnovels. they are popular fiction, relying on a very familiar pool of tropes and clichés in order to deliver on a relatively predictable story to appeal to a wide audience. it's not a coincidence that they are so similar - both literally and in a meta sense, they are drawing on the same exact story-building and genre material. twsa is just the unsuccessful version, and infinite regressor is the successful one.

orv is what I would consider the most "impressive" version of the genre. it's well-structured, thrillingly plotted, interestingly written, has fascinating ideas and characters, and is even "literary" - that is, it has deeply considered themes and is often drawing from the realm of literary, postmodern fiction in order to express its ideas. a less sincere story would disavow itself from its pop-fiction origins and claim to be the best version of its genre. nothing else could be like it, so the worst versions of its genre wouldn't be worth considering.

but orv, while technically functioning as an argument that the genre can be "good" simply because it's a great novel that is deeply rooted in its genre, goes much further. it argues in-text that any sort of story, even those that are bad on a technical level or those that were somewhat cynically produced for a mass audience, are worth finding value in, simply because stories have meaning to their readers. the most uncritical reproduction of a genre's conventions can still mean something to someone who likes it. twsa, if it existed in our reality, would still probably be considered a very bad novel, but it wouldn't need to be polished up and turned into infinite regressor or orv in order to have value. orv itself is telling you that you should find value in twsa as it is, and by extension, every badly-done work of fiction that twsa could be a stand-in for!

[barbietoiles]

I want to rant about tubbos rp style. I often get annoyed by people giggling about -100 rp points because LISTEN!! This style is UNIQUE and SO COOL!! Everyone loves phils 4th wall breaks why cant tubbo have that?

Theres rules to the universe like "federatoin buildings are protected" and "the mob cap is this number" and "this entity is omnipresent and much too powerful". But tubbo finds a way to challenge all of that and it works!! He breaks the federation protection, he manipulates mob caps, he tells you the stats of essentially god and the exact steps to take it down.

He sees through and into everything. You are just a number of totems and armour durability to him. Creative mode is just another problem to solve. Leveling millions of blocks is a matter of minutes to him and hell still complain about efficiency.

The way he speaks is like he's tearing apart the threads of your reality. He asks you what the guts of god look like and two minutes later hes holding them and gods dead body is at his feet.

Of course admins have to blind him a little and pomme has to tell him off in brackets. Hes insane (synonymous to cool, epic, awesome, outstanding, one-of-a-kind, never before seen, admirable, showstopping).

[fleshyfeast]

Me remembering that one fic that I liked so much but now I can’t reread it anymore for shits and giggles because it got deleted/the author deleted it.

[goosita]

started daydreaming about billy again

thinkin about the way he pants against your mouth when you crawl into his lap, hands knocking his hat off and tangling into his hair. his own slide down your back slowly, fingertips pressing into the curve above your ass. billy’s lips are soft and slick where they meet yours, his nose pressing into your cheek like he can’t get close enough—

“fuck,” he whispers in the dim light, eyes fluttering as your kisses trail down his neck. and its so easy for him to lift you, to maneuver you in his lap until you’re straddling his thigh. you can feel the firm muscle flex underneath you, gasping against his skin where you’ve been dropping slow lovebites. billy’s hands settle at your hips, a low chuckle making his chest rumble.

“y’trust me, darlin’?”

you nod and bite your lip, your own touch coming to his face. you cup his cheeks in your hand, letting out a soft sigh when he dips his head to kiss you dizzy again. he tastes like tobacco and whiskey, his tongue slipping past your lips to make you moan softly. before you can lose yourself entirely to his mouth, he uses his grip on your hips to grind your center against his thigh.

“billy!” you gasp, the friction making you shiver. he only smirks at you and does it again, encouraging.

“feel good, baby?” he purrs, helping you rock your hips against him. and it does. it feels so good, just the right about of pressure against your clothed clit. “want you to use me, just like this. make yourself cum for me, yeah? use my body, it’s yours.”

his words make you shudder, the usual brightness in his voice simmering down to a low and raspy tone. you roll your hips on your own, unable to stop the whimper that the pleasure of his thigh against you pulls from your throat.

“that’s it, there’s my good girl. look so pretty getting yourself off on me like this. can’t believe you like me so much that just this can get you goin’,” he teases. billy lets one hand leave your hip to tangle into your hair, pulling just enough to get you to expose your throat to him so he can drag his tongue along your skin. his lips and teeth do sinful things to the delicate skin, making your hips stutter.

“love you, billy. love this, love you so much,” you whine, needing to correct him even in your pleasure-delirious state. he lets out a quiet hum before giving the junction of your neck and shoulder a soft kiss.

“i know, baby. i know. you know i love you too.”

you can feel the tension pulling and pulling between your legs, the desperation rocking of your hips pushing you closer to your peak. billy flexes his thigh and you hiss, fingers scrambling for purchase on his flannel shirt and twisting, knuckles white.

“gonna cum for me? hm? show me how much you love me and how much you love using me to make that perfect little pussy feel good?” and it’s too much, his words and his body pushing you over the edge. your orgasm makes you tremble in his lap, unable to make out what nonsense praises he’s whispering to you as you ride out your high.

your ears ring slightly and you pant as you go lax, laying against his chest. billy guides your head to rest on his shoulder, fingers dragging up and down your back soothingly.

“love you so much, darlin’. did so good for me, hm? so pretty, always look so pretty,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your hairline.