#to make things even better it's vega and warden AGAIN

[gingerbreadmonsters]

oh this is going to be......... a problem actually

[empydoc]

little things (headcanons) i think some of the boys do with a twist! they get angstier as you go!

this one's kinda long, but sfw ~

david, when surrounded by lots of people, will beeline for angel. crowds/meetings/etc, it doesn't matter. he's going to them.

honey likes to wash guy's hair in the shower, even after he makes several dirty shower jokes, because he goes quiet and enjoys it a lot more than they know he'd admit when they touch his hair.

elliott, when sitting beside sunshine, will squeeze their hand every so often. he always gets a squeeze back. the two always giggle to themselves when this happens.

asher has a lot of scars on his hands, whether that's from reckless behaviour or whatever else. babe used to avoid touching them, not knowing if he'd like it or not, but once they unintentionally ran their finger over the uneven skin and found it pretty theraputic to do. he's noticed they've started doing this a lot now, and likes it a whole lot.

as much as his spouse continues to tell him he doesn't have to, james loves to get them flowers. doesn't matter the day, the current season, or the holiday- if he's home late or feels like it, he's getting flowers.

sam subtly checks that darlin has enough food to the last the week, every week, just in case. they've been doing better at making sure they have enough for themselves, and he trusts them well, but it's become habit at this point.

in public places, avior holds onto starlight's arm or hand, making sure he's touching them or able to see them. he doesn't want to lose them again.

blake doesn't enjoy looking at himself in the mirror unless bestie is also seen in the reflection.

every so often gavin finds himself tracing over freelancer's features again and again, not wanting to forget them. they let him do this as much as he wants, always noticing a forlorn expression on him when he does.

vega's expression would always soften when he looked at warden. they noticed it the closer it got to his end. sometimes, it almost looked like he wanted to cradle their face, but they don't know that for sure. they couldn't ask him now even if they wanted to.

[pearl-kite]

So new Vega audio, right. Heads up this got WAY longer than I meant so uh. Prepare to scroll, I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In advance, I don't even really know when things get posted to youtube time-of-day-wise, so this is probably technically spoiler material, etc etc, and a bit heavily flavored by particular headcanon for the Warden, especially the details of their job.

You work at the Department, your favorite part is psychology-related casework. Sure, the serenity demons have got that corner covered, but you enjoy helping when they're short-handed in between the times you have to do demon-specific tasks like ward maintenance, etc.

You get this fucking file, red flags ALL over it, but you're good at your job, you know how to keep your personal shit separate and not fall for manipulation tactics, but the guy is good. You're also good enough to see through it all, but oh man is he pat.

Shit happens and suddenly you're kidnapped, sort of? And you can see every time he tries to be subtle and nudge you to think one way or another, but he is actually helping you, which yeah, sure that's a manipulation in and of itself, but he's almost nice? You don't agree with a lot of what he says, but there are some points he has that you've had before, but you'll be damned if you're going to let him know that. You can see what he's doing and you're not going to fall for it (maybe that's the problem though, you think you can see it but does that make you overconfident?)

And then when you're finally better he just. Lets you leave. But he gives you an option, and it sounds not only logical, but nice (ah shit did you start to like him? You know he's manipulating you, remember?). So you stick with him. You can leave anytime.

But you don't leave, because maybe you started to forget that he's manipulating you, you saw through it all at the beginning, after all, and there's plenty of evidence that he's not lying about shit going on with that cult.

One day he says he values you, and you immediately think it's a trick, and you can't read his emotions the way he can read yours, but something feels honest about it, and suddenly you believe it when he says you matter, and you like that, you like it a lot, and you think maybe you're a little fucked because you might do anything he asks you to at this point.

And then not even a half hour later something fucking disintegrates him in front of you, which shouldn't have been possible, and it terrifies you and you run. You forget that you can fucking rift away in an instant and you use your fucking feet and sprint, you're so terrified.

Where the fuck are you supposed to go? You ditched your job, even if you were abducted in the first place, do you even have any friends outside of work?

To make things more confusing, some fucking piece of paper materializes out of nowhere for you, and you read it. It feels like a confession, but it's from that bastard so how are you supposed to believe it, and it tells you to just forget him and move on and what the fuck, man, how?

So you read it again, and another couple times, and maybe you end up back at the safe house you had been abducted to at first and you reread it enough that maybe you start to memorize it. And when you finally put it back down to reconsider what you're supposed to do, the thing that killed him suddenly pops in with him alive next to it like he didn't just disintegrate in front of you hours ago.

And he doesn't remember it. He doesn't remember you. He doesn't address you properly, doesn't remember your name and doesn't call you darling. But he does remember? He remembers you but nothing about you? And he begs you to explain what's going on because his memory is about 2000 years old at this point and he doesn't know if there's anyone else that can catch him up.

He's begging, and you don't think this is a trick anymore. For the first time, you're positive he isn't manipulating you, he's pleading.

He asks what your relationship was (good question). You try to hedge and he calls you out. You tell him it's complicated.

What do you mean complicated.

You don't really know how to say "Well, I was your department-appointed therapist of sorts, you abducted me, but then you offered to have me tag along on your mission to save the world and you've manipulated me so much through the whole thing that I can't really tell what was real and what wasn't and then you died in front of me and left me this note that honestly just made it more unclear what we were," so you stick with "You died and left me this note" and hand him the piece of paper you already memorized to read.

And he doesn't just read it to himself, he reads it out loud, so you get to hear the fucking thing in his voice now, and why does he sound so shaken by the request to forget him, does he hate reading that part as much as you did?

He finishes the letter and doesn't understand why you said it was complicated, that made it sound pretty straightforward, why would he have called you darling and dearest and praised you like that if it hadn't been straightforward?

You don't know what else to say, and thank god he drops it, but even though he knows now what he called you he keeps addressing you wrong and you hate it, you're not just an inchoate you're his warden, but he asks if you'll keep helping him and you almost want to say of course you idiot but you just say you will.

Anyway I was very insane about this last night, I don't know if this accurately gets that across, but then again it's about 5 times longer than I meant so maybe that's the insanity.

I've never really been good at putting my reactions into words, it never quite gets across the vibrating flailing aaaaaa feel that my brain goes through, but be assured my brain is vibrating flailing aaaaaa

[vind3miat0r]

Hush EA Spoilers.

WOAAHHH OKAY I AM GENUINELY TWEAKING WTF WAS THAT??? /POS

OKAY. okay. a LOT to unpack here holy shit

first off, loving the soft Hush and Doc interactions at the beginning, the babygirl is learning! i love them ahsgajdh and Hush asking Doc to hold his hand :(((

VEGAS REFORMING. oh. wow.

it sounds like Hush only pulled together the parts of Vega from before the Cacophony ended. he has a better(?) view of humans, and he doesnt seem so vindictive of them as of yet

one thing that caught my attention is that Vega said "I am the first-formed of Gravity." he's one of the first demons. i even theorized as much in my last tinfoil hat post (therefore it is my legal right to say "HAH! called it!") that makes the Sovereign's cruelness towards demons even more sad, cuz he knew what they were like before they were evil n shit

another thing that Vega said was that he was the "Anacrusis of his (D'Deridahn's) Phrase." (this is referring to when he's repeating his whole name). again, we already know that "anacrusis" means "one or more unstressed syllables at the beginning of a verse."

i said in an earlier theory that the term "Anacruses" might be a fancy title for old demons. Vega said he's the "Anacrusis of [D'Deridahn's] Phrase." so, i think in some aspects, i was right, but "Anacruses" is more specific: it refers to the first demon created by a Sovereign; the "Phrase" in question being the line of demons created by that Sovereign, and the Anacrusis of that phrase being the first demon. do you see where im going with this?

speaking of lines, Vega said "When you made the Well. When you formed the line."

now, the obvious jump we can make with this is that Hush is the one who created the Elision Well in Aria. we already know from previous audios that Hush was someone else before he was Hush. he maintains that he was created (recently) by the Sovereigns, but Vega calling him "Egregore of the Sovereigns" clearly says that Hush indeed was someone else beforehand

whats interesting is that Vega doesnt say that Hush (or Egregore) is a Sovereign; he says "of the Sovereigns," which is funny because Egregore sounds like a very Sovereign-esque name, not a star's name like a demon's. looks like Egregore is a creation of the Sovereigns too, but what is he? is he the same as Hush, the silence in the spellsong? or is he something completely different, like a lesser Sovereign, or the first demon? could the naming conventions have been different back then? or maybe, its the opposite direction, with Egregore being an angel-type character?

and what is the "line" that Vega refers to? i assume that it has to do with the Well, considering that he says, "When you made the Well. When you formed the line." maybe its the line of yet-to-be-formed demons, lying in wait just beyond perceptibility?? we dont know why demons have kept forming in the Well after the Sovereigns were chained to Death, Avior said as much im sure; and granted, we dont even know how or why the Well was formed in the first place, but we do now know that Hush/Egregore was responsible for it

wrapping this up with YIPPEE THEYRE GONNA GO FIND WARDEN!! THEYRE GONNA GO LOOK FOR MY BABYGIRL!!!! i love Warden sm, they have a special place in my heart augh. cant wait for Hush to show up with their presumed dead situationship and be like "can you fix him 🥺🥺🥺" and for Warden to be like "WHAT THE FUCK??!" need to see them get angry on god frfr

in conclusion, Hush reforms Vega, Vega drops some Hush lore while also being an amnesiac, and sends all the theorizers of the fandom into a tail-spin trying to figure the meaning of the cryptic titles he keeps spitting out. uhhh damn thats crazy. anyways, thank you for coming to my ted talk, and remember: its just a theory (a game theory–)

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Vega Latest Audio Thoughts

Im going to put in under the cut for those who can't listen yet and don't want spoilers. (Ik that feeling.)

MY HUSBAND IS BACK FINALLY I MISSED HIM SO MUCH!!! I love him and i want him to step on me im so fucking glad hes here im sobbing

I feel like Warden is settling more into their personality now. At first they kinda gave off a timid vibe since they were trying to fit in with humans and not appear as a threat. Then there was that moment they snapped at him. When they get frustrated, they lash out. And here we see it again. Vega is shooting down their ideas, so they call him stubborn instead of considering why he's shooting them down. It's his fault.

He calls them Darling when he's not upset with them or something. Then it turns into "My Warden" I'll be your anything.

Vega my poor baby had to go through so much. I'll kiss his boots to make him feel better.

ALSO THE LORE MMMMM!! DELICIOUS

Vega had to fight in the cocophany and he emerged before then. And he was one of the voices that spoke out. He's definitely old. Also does that mean that he was one of the first rebelling demons? (Wouldn't it be daemons then since everyone was a daemon until the sovereigns split and then the serenity and empathy kept the term daemon in rememberance of the sacrifice?)

What cost did daemons have to pay to feed? O.o

So the meridian didnt exist until the sovereigns formed it? But before then, they were running experiments on humans... so wouldnt aria have eclipsed or whatever with elegy?

He severed a Sovereign's spellsong? O.o (hmmm wonder where we heard that term before... HMMMM)

HELL YEA LETS GO TO CLOSEKNIT AND FUCK SHIT UP

What stronger power? The sovereigns im guessing. Or what if this is where Hush comes into play? We know he's prolly strong as long as there's a conduit.

Plot twist, Blake's listener's death is going to be at the hands of Vega somehow. Blake did say their death was coming and he was out of time. First listener death owo? (/hj)

Vega baby, im like a face hugger. You can't get rid of me. Stop fucking trying. Morals dont exist in our love. Lets murder children idc. JUST LET ME LOVE YOU

Wait... we weren't in Dahlia this entire time? WHERE TF ARE WE?

Outside of simping... I wanna talk about the manipulations

The whole complicit thing? It's a subtle urging them to stay. He's told them everything that he plans to do. Even if they choose to leave, they're still incriminated. They're tied to him and his actions.

Firsthand accounts are difficult to give without making the other party feel a sense of guilt. Kind of survivor guilt type of things. Did you feel like you needed to apologize as if you were at fault? Not just from sympathy? Well there you go.

There's more but im too feral to remember.

[catsandgoodbooks]

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Dream SMP

Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Clay | Dream, Alexis | Quackity & Clay | Dream

Characters: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity

Oh wow I actually managed to write something. I came up with the Vegas Wedding AU how many months ago?

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

TW/CWs: Forced marriage, implied/referenced torture, fear

Dream sat still and tried not to breathe. (Maybe if he didn’t make any sound, didn’t even breathe, then Quackity might not notice him, might not pay him attention, and maybe he might not get hurt) Quackity was doing his hair up and he wanted to make it as easy as possible for his soon-to-be-husband. (He didn’t want to get hurt or yelled at or anything else, because he knew Quackity wouldn't fucking hesitate) He didn’t want to have to do this again. (He just wanted to get this over with)

Dream kept his eyes on the mirror in front of him, watching the pale reflection staring back at him. Delicate white lace cocooned his thin frame and covered every inch of bare skin (hiding scars and bony wrists and skeletal arms). His once-golden hair, a crown of pale roses woven into the pale locks, had faded almost to the same white as the lace and the gown he wore. The only splash of color was the bright, vibrant green of his eyes and the occasional freckle dotted across his ashen face.

Well, that was stupid. Dream had no right to complain about his current circumstances because he’d chosen these. It was the better option, and he’d jumped at the chance. And why shouldn’t he? He’d taken the deal and now he wasn’t getting tortured anymore. It was fine. He was better. He was out, for Prime’s sake! (So why was he still so scared, flinching away from every movement, sudden or not, panicking constantly and always losing control? Why was he still so afraid?)

Dream was out and, even if it wasn’t due to the best circumstances, he still didn’t have to pay too high of a price for it. It was fine. Marriage was just another contract, and not a very binding one at that.

(He’d thought about marriage before, even considered it a couple times [even tried once, even got up there on the altar once], but it had never been a high priority for him. He’d always thought he could deal with that sort of stuff after this was all over and everything was taken care of. Well, apparently not. Apparently, it was just a way to make sure he made it long enough to take care of it all, to resolve everything. Keep your eyes on the prize, Dream reminded himself. Remember what [who] you’re fighting for, you’re living [surviving] for)

Dream didn’t realize he was being spoken to until his hair was pulled back in one sharp jab and set all his nerves on fire. His heart raced as he was forcefully deposited back into reality. (At least it wasn't any worse) Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t do that (not right now).

“Do I have your attention now?” Quackity hissed, his face contorted into an expression of annoyance (well, at least it wasn’t rage this time). Dream nodded jerkily - he didn’t trust himself to speak right now. (He didn’t trust himself to not get hurt) “Good. I just want to let you know that if you do a single thing wrong tonight, step out of line even the littlest, you are completely fucked. I’m the only reason you’re alive right now and you better act like it.”

Dream bit back the instinctive, reflexive response rising within him. Sam would never let you kill me. It wasn’t a good idea to get Quackity upset right now (it was never a good idea to bring up the Warden). Even if he wasn’t the only reason Dream was alive, he was the only reason Dream was out here enjoying the fresh air rather than being trapped in a tiny bloodstained cell. Now more than ever, Dream was only getting by Quackity’s twisted amusement (not mercy; he would choke on his own blood before ever calling Quackity merciful) and the desire to use him as a tool, a weapon, a trophy, a symbol of Quackity's power and influence and what he could do to people. Whatever. This wasn’t anything new. Just show them what they want to see.

(When the server wanted him to be the villain, the tyrant, the puppeteer, he played that role. When they wanted him to be a defeated supervillain, he gave them what they wanted. When they wanted him to be a scared, desperate prisoner, he played that up. He could play the role of the nervous bride, the quiet wife. It wasn’t any different. Just another way to survive. He could handle it)

“Got that?” Quackity's mouth was a hair's breadth away from Dream's ear; his voice echoed within the other man's mind. Quackity still hadn't let go of his hair.

Dream nodded again. Just keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt, he repeated over and over again in his mind, his own personal mantra. (That hadn’t been true in the past but it might be here)

“Then you better act like it tonight,” Quackity snapped. “I’m not letting you mess this up.”

“Got it,” Dream muttered. He had to say something sometime (to show that he was still there, still under the other man’s thumb, still conscious and paying attention and able to suffer), and this wasn’t a bad time to get rid of that obligation. (He’d never liked obligations very much, and he absolutely could not risk them now)

“Good. I have a couple things to take care of, so I’m going to trust you to stay here and not try anything. You and I both know there’s no way for you to get out of here in one piece.” Of course Dream remembered. The snug ring of dark metal around his neck, concealed by the lacy high-necked collar of his wedding dress, wouldn’t let him ever forget. “So don’t even try. It’d just be a giant waste of time for both of us.”

This wasn’t news to Dream. Apparently, some of that irritation managed to creep its way onto his face, because Quackity laughed and finally let go of Dream's hair, one hand shifting downward to rest forcefully on his shoulder. “Oh, you already know that one. Good. Hopefully, you won’t have to make me repeat it. Because, while that might be a bit fun for me, I like my pets to follow my rules without constantly having to be reminded.”

Dream stomped down the quick flash of anger (rage, really; rage and disgust and soft animal fear) and bit back a scoff. Shut the fuck up. (He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Quackity or himself) Do you want to get hurt? No? Then sit there and take it. Don’t say anything about it. (Don’t prove him right) Quackity was watching him, Dream knew, looking for any trace of a reaction. Dream wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. He smoothed his face into an indifferent porcelain mask, not so different from his signature mask (that had been stolen from him; he wasn't sure if Quackity had destroyed it [or at least tried to] or if he had just taken it and hidden it somewhere Dream couldn't reach or if he put it on display up as a trophy in Las Nevadas).

"Of course." He could be nice, he could be polite, if it would keep him safe. (And it would; it had to) He kept his eyes on the mirror (on the ghost of who he once was).

"Then we're on the same page." Dream watched Quackity's eyes narrow in the mirror. "Oh, and don't push yourself too much, darling." The word was a curse and a threat and a promise and a reminder of what was to come, salt rubbed in an open wound, sickeningly sweet and just as ugly, because he knew. "I don't need you bleeding all over the place."

Dream would also like to avoid that as well, even if just because he didn't want to tear his old wounds open again and deal with the pain (and because it wouldn't just be old injuries it would be new ones too because Quackity wouldn't appreciate it if that happened), so he nodded. "I'll try," he conceded.

"You better do good fucking job of it," Quackity muttered. "But that's enough, Dream. I have things to do, people to meet...I can't waste all of my time here with you, y'know. You understand, right." His hand released Dream's shoulder just to wrap around a lock of pale hair and pull it tight. It didn't hurt, not yet. Dream didn't even think Quackity was aware of it, but the threat was still there, even unconsciously. Nothing that Quackity ever did to him was accidental, of course, but he knew how easily Quackity could get carried away. That was never a good thing for anyone involved, especially not Dream.

"Yes, sir." The words slipped out of his mouth without him even noticing; the phrase was old (promising an escape from pain, if only for a moment, intermixed with desperate, animalistic fear and burning humiliation that he had learned to ignore), instinctive (drilled into him through pain and fear and threats and even more pain), and it took Dream a moment to realize that he had even spoken.

A gold tooth flashed in the light as Quackity laughed. He let go of Dream's hair, though. "Oh, so you do remember! I was worried you had forgotten, pet. But keep that to a minimum tonight, will you? Might not be the greatest look out in public. After we're out of the public eye though..." Quackity traced Dream's jawline with one finger and Dream tried not to flinch. He didn't dare to move (at least it wasn't the knife yet). "Go straight ahead."

Suddenly, Quackity let go of Dream and clapped his hands. "But that's enough of that. It's time for me to get going, and for you to be a good dog and stay put. Don't fucking touch anything, or I'll have your hide, wedding or no."

Quackity stood up and walked to the door, Dream's eyes following his reflection in the mirror. At the last second, he turned back towards Dream. "Just stay in this room and don't break anything. It won't get you anywhere, so why even try? I'll come get you later."

Quackity opened the door and stepped through, closing the door behind him. Dream heard the click of the door locking.

And, just like that, Dream was alone.

[deadcool14]

Tier list Part 3!

The B-Ranks!

-Gutsu Gutsu no Mi (Smelt-Smelt Fruit): Allows the user to turn their body into a blast furnace and shape metals inside it. You can eat ore, melt said ore inside your body, solidify it and then turn into whatever you want, like weapons, while pulling it out of your abdomen, tho be warned that if they are destroyed then they turn back intomolten ore. You can throw the molten ore at people or cover them in it to trap them. You can cover yourself in ore to give yourself armor, while retaining freedom of movement. Become bigger and stronger the more ore you eat. And you're inmune to fire and heat. The only downside is that the heat created from eating too much ore could be dangerous, so you watch out for that.

You could become the world's greatest blacksmith or other jobs that require crafting metal.

-Peto Peto no Mi (Pet-Pet Fruit): Allows the user to create collars that force the wearer to obey their commands. When you put the collar on a living being, they obey you no matter what. Sometimes those commands can cause the victims to float. You can command the victim to bring out their full potential and become super powerful; this also applies to the user. Can disobey commands with enough willpower. You can only control the victim's body, not their minds, so they can still plot against you. And finally, the fruit's biggest weaknesses: the collars can be thrown, which means they can also be dodged and if the victim can't hear the user's commands then it's useless; all they have to do is scream really loud and run away!

We all know what things someone might do with this fruit... become the warden or head of security of a prison or insane asylum! 😀

-Maji Maji no Mi (Magic-Magic Fruit): Allows the user to perform the parlor tricks of stage magicians, only these are real.

Become the greatest entertainer to ever live! Fuck those guys with the tigers in Vegas.

Obvious name made by me.

-Iro Iro no Mi (Color-Color Fruit): Allows the user to create paint to camouflage or disguise people and objects. This fruit requires you to have a tool on hand to use it's power, like a spray can. The cammo can be noticed by an observant enough person. And the disguises are dependant on your own art skills, so if you're bad at drawing your best hope is that the one you're tricking is a dumbass.

A spy, detectice, PI, other sneaky stuffs.

-Bijo Bijo no Mi (Vision-Vision Fruit):  Allows the user to create illusory images of any picture the user touches. You can touch any image and create a hologram of it. They can do anything the real deal can, even if you're not aware of who or what they are and what they can do.

And the award for best special effects goes to...!

-Pocha Pocha no Mi (Fat-Fat Fruit): Allows the user to control the amount of fat in someone's body. You can make someone fat and hinder their movements or reduce your own fat and make yourself muscular. You can also harden and fortify your body for better defense.

You can eat anything you want with no ill effects AND put every gym out of business.

-Deri Deri no Mi (Deli-Deli Fruit): Allows the user to deliver anything they want to any point they can see. This also applies to things like viruses or even people's hearts.

You never have to get up ever again!

Obvious name made by me.

-Peke Peke no Mi (Peke-Peke Fruit): Allows the user to transform other people into clones of Peketan. This fruit's actual power would be to turn anyone into clones of the user, not just Peketan. If that's the case, then if I ate the fruit it would be the Juan-Juan Fruit.

You can have a whole-ass army of yous!

Peketan is a member of a japanese Youtube group called Fischer's. They got a manga about them being transported to the One Piece universe.

Obvious name made by me.

-Gemu Gemu no Mi (Game-Game Fruit): Allows the user to transport other people into a game-like world, being able to decide on the genre of game.

Do I even need to say anything?

Obvious name made by me.

-Ushi Ushi no Mi (Ox-Ox Fruit), Model Alpaca: Allows the user to become a full alpaca or a half-alpaca hybrid. You can spit at people. Or give yourself a pet, by using the mysterious technique that allows someone to infuse a Zoan fruit into an object. They did that in the filler this fruit came from, they gave it to a cannon.

Ushi is japanese for "cattle, cow, bull, ox" while ushimaku refers to the animal order comprising even-toed ungulates (they bear weight equally on two of their five tows), which alpacas fall under.

Name made by me.

-Toro Toro no Mi (Liquid-Liquid Fruit): Allows the user to create, control, and transform into an unidentified liquid. If someone is smart enough, they can trap you inside any container of liquid.

Torotoro is also an onomatopeia, which means that a liquid has a syrupy consistency, but since there is already two syrup fruits (one canon, one non-canon) I picked this name for it.

Name made by me.

-Obi Obi no Mi (Sash-Sash Fruit): The second Devil Fruit concept for Black Maria. Going by the name, it was most likely a Paramecia that would allow the user to either generate and control sashes or give the user's body and anything the properties of a sash, e.i, thin and flexible, like with the Ripple-Ripple Fruit.

If it's the former, then you could make a living as a street vendor, or a thief that snares people with the sashes and then robs them blind.

Name made by me.

And that's it for the pretty good ones. Join me for the last ones: the equivelants of the middle children, and the really crappy ones, in Part 4.

Here's the link for the tier list if you wanna make your own:

[cdroloisms]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[theyre-just-blocks]

Alright buckle in because I have a few things to say about Big Q's stream.

There will be spoilers under the cut!

BUT!

Let me just start off by saying, Quackity hyped the fuck out of this stream and he did not disappoint. It was even better than what I could've imagined and therefore every scene just had me grinning of ear to ear in anticipation and delight.

Of course, I have a lot of thoughts and I might rewatch it again to better understand somethings, but as a c!Quackity enthusiast, you probably know that I have a lot to say.

HOLY SHIT DID I LOVE HOW CINEMATIC IT WAS!!

The lighting, the scenes, the soundtrack, the acting, the cut scenes, everything! It was so well put together and the divisions of chapters made it even all the more enjoyable. As someone who wants to study film, I really appreciated and enjoyed the cinematic elements Quackity added into this stream. It was absolutely insane.

LAS NEVADAS

Quackity put a fast one on all of us who thought it was going to be called L'Vegas, and while I think L'Vegas sounds cool, I think it's cooler that Quackity named it something else. It shows that this is something completely new and fresh. It doesn't hold ties to any of the older civilizations. Also, the fact that we didn't get to really see it?? Just an outline?? And holy hell is it HUGE. I'm so excited to see the actual thing.

Jschlatt

Schlatt coming back wasn't a huge possibility for me until today. The more I talked about what could happen and the more theories I saw, the more I was convinced that maybe he'd come back. I didn't want to get my hopes up though, so I tried not to be excited about the fact that Schlatt might return. AND THEN HE DID. There was his voice with that quote about someone's worse times and then his name was in the "STARRING" and I was just so happy. He, Quackity, and Sam are like my favorite members on the SMP so to see him involved in this was amazing. Also, he and Quackity's dynamic never fails to make me laugh.

MEXICAN DREAM

MD MY BELOVED! I cannot wait to see what Quackity has planned for him because I absolutely love this character and miss him so much. Still a little foggy on what the hell is going on with him or how/why he's visiting Schlatt, but I'm excited to see him in the lore again.

Badboyhalo

I expected to see Bad on the stream, as he and Quackity's relationship was deteriorating over the Egg thing. Big Q had told him he'd continue to get in Bad's way, so I thought that the Eggpire would make an appearance at the casino or something. However, that wasn't the case, it was just Bad having a conversation with Big Q and then being shown the kind of power Quackity has. Let me just say, Bad's acting today was on point. I was genuinely a little scared of him due to his voice. So kudos to him man! That was amazing!

Awesamdude

Of course, I was excited for this stream in part of Sam being involved with the building and whatnot as well. And as always, Sam brought the A-game acting of making my heartbreak over how fucking tired and sad he sounds all the time. He and Quackity's conversation, as an Awesamdad and Duck son enthusiast, made me both happy and sad at the same time. Him not wanting to let Quackity visit Dream after what had just happened and Quackity manipulating him into thinking it was a good idea just,, oh man. And then Sam bending the rules of the prison to let Quackity have weapons in the cell!! AND GIVING QUACKITY HIS WARDEN WEAPONS!! AAAA SAM MY BELOVED.

Quackity

Man, Big Q himself. He's one of the best actors on the SMP, hands down. The way he gets super into character and works around technicalities and bloopers while still being in character?? Amazing. I love his character so much. The amount of layers his character has is just,, amazing but I refuse to call this some kind of villain arc, though it does worry me. HE MADE THE SCAR CANNON TOO!! The suit he was wearing wasn't what I had in mind for Vegas vibes, but it was cool. But all in all it was just an amazing performance on his part.

Dream

God, I hate this fucker (the character). He really thought he had the upper hand in the conversation when Quackity came to visit up until Quackity pulled out the ax. The terror in his voice scared the shit out of me (loud ass mf) but to hear Dream scared? Oh man, that was such a wonderful feeling. He's finally getting what he deserves.

The Story

My dumbass really thought that today's stream was going to be a grand opening of Las Nevadas, huh? Though, I think I enjoyed the stream a lot more because of the fact that I didn't know what was going to happen. I really enjoyed the whole breaking it into chapters though, as a storyteller I thought that was hella amazing. I just had so much fun with this story and I can't wait to see where it leads.

El Rapids

Why the fuck did I get emotional over a fictional country in Minecraft that was based on a Hillary Clinton snapchat vine? Please, that ending was beautiful and I got sentimental about the flashbacks and Quackity moving on from that part of his life.

The ending

WHAT WAS THAT ENDING AND WHY WAS IT SO GOOD?? It scared the crap out of me though because it caught me off guard but I thought it was so cool. The transition was perfect, the chips?? The calendar??? Amazing, showstopping, wonderful, confusing, perfect. I loved it.

All in all though, this stream was amazing. It's crazy to think that they're taking this Minecraft roleplay to cinematic levels. It's so fun and I'm just,, so proud of how far it's come and how creative not only the fans get, but the ccs themselves to do these streams for us. It's just crazy and I love it so much.

I feel like this is just the tip of the iceberg though. This is just the start of something completely new and I cannot wait to see how it unfolds.

[ragequitthatshit]

down in flames : sweet pea x reader (chapter 1)

(gif not mine)

Fandom: Riverdale (season 3)

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Andrews!Reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, underage drinking, mention of attempted rape (in a later chapter which can be skipped), angst, gross fluff 

Summary: On his first day of elementary school, one of the bigger kids had pushed Archie to the floor and skinned his knee. You had promised then and there you would protect your brother from everyone and everything in this world.

Now in high school, your main concern should have been that the boy you liked was sleeping with someone else. Instead, you were researching how to cover up a murder and discovering the use of alcohol as a coping method.

Riverdale wasn't safe for anyone these days.

You knew Archie was scared. You knew he felt guilty. You knew he just wanted this all to be over. You didn’t know he’d plead guilty and take the deal of two years in juvenile detention.

The shock you felt jolt through your body left you reeling, bolting from your chair in a reflex to protect, but there was nothing you could do. Next to you, Sweet Pea clasped your wrist and gently tugged you back into your seat. Clinging to him, you absentmindedly noted that you were digging your nails into his exposed forearm, but you were too busy trying to breathe to stop yourself. 

Archie looked accepting, resigned to his fate, but it was the look on your dad’s face that broke your heart. As Archie was led away in handcuffs, he spared you a tight smile that you couldn’t return, tears dripping from your eyes instead. Leaving Betty to console a distraught Veronica, you rushed to your dad, throwing your arms around his waist and burying your face into his shoulder as he clung on to you just as tightly. 

Much later that night, you found yourself sat in a booth right at the back of Pop’s with Betty, Jughead and Veronica. None of you spoke, merely picking at your food and milkshakes, lost in your own thoughts.

It was a strange feeling, like it wasn’t really happening. This was Archie, who got in trouble in elementary school for fighting bullies on behalf of the smaller kids. Archie who protected his family and his friends with everything in him. Archie who loved pancakes and hated mushrooms and wore odd socks - your little brother. It didn’t matter that there was barely 10 minutes difference in age, you still insisted you were elder. 

You were polar opposites in some ways - Archie was reckless where you were methodical, easily manipulated where you had trouble trusting anyone. He could be stupid sometimes, making rash decisions like starting the red circle or chasing after gunmen, but he was good at heart, and there was no way in hell he could ever kill someone. 

And now he was locked up in a place with a bad reputation and you hoped to god that if nothing else, the serpent tattoo would grant him some reprise - he’d need comrades in there even if he wouldn’t have friends. 

You kept opening your mouth to speak, uncomfortable with the silence, but what were you supposed to say? 

Luckily, you were saved by the ring of the bell as the front door was pushed open. In walked a crowd of leather, and you jumped up to greet them. 

Toni was the first to rush forward and hug you, followed by Cheryl and Fangs. They joined the group in the booth as Sweet Pea analysed you with his dark eyes before pulling you into his chest. The familiar smell of leather and smoke was comforting, and you clutched to his jacket for a moment to ground yourself. 

When you stepped back, you quickly wiped at your eyes to rid yourself of any tears and tried to smile up at the boy. He looked concerned, and you knew that your pathetic attempt at fooling him into thinking you were ok wouldn’t work. Still, when he asked if you were alright, you nodded and turned quickly to squash back into the now-crowded booth. Sweet Pea took a seat by your side, leg pressed against yours, and arm draped over the booth behind you. Over the course of the next hour, as the group swapped back and forth between discussing pointless subjects and possible plans to clear Archie’s name or break him out, the warmth of Sweet Pea kept you grounded, and you both pretended not to notice when his phone lit up with Josie’s name several times, instead he turned the device face-down and moved somehow even closer. 

You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty.

Despite your dad’s hesitation, you decided to go back to school with the others. It was funny in a sad sort of way that you usually looked for any excuse not to have to go, and then when you had one, you didn’t want it. You just couldn’t stand another day at home. It was so empty and quiet, just you and Vegas, who’d taken to lying on the floor of Archie’s room and whining. 

School wasn’t much better though with all the looks, the whispers. At first it upset you, but a couple of hours in and it was rapidly pissing you the hell off. The second the bell rang for free period, you stormed through the hallways, earphones in and scowling as you threw yourself down into a chair in the corner of the student lounge. Everyone kept their distance, casting glances at your furious scribbling before quickly retreating. Eventually, the bell rang again for lunch and you knew your peace was going to soon be disrupted as people streamed into the room. Mere minutes later, you felt someone looming over you, and quickly grabbed the hand that crept into your peripheral. 

“If you pull out my earphones, I will pull out your lungs.”

Sweet Pea merely laughed and leant against the desk you were hunched over, Fangs by his side flipping through the text book you’d been taking notes from. Knowing it was hopeless, you rolled your eyes to the ceiling before fixing them both with a glare.

“I’m trying to work, what do you two idiots want?”

“For you to pull the stick out of your ass and come sit with us,” Sweet Pea replied with an easy smirk, Fangs snorting in amusement as he passed you your book back. Your glare quickly shot to the shorter boy, who adopted an innocent look and held his hands in the air.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t say it!”

Huffing, you stood and shoved your belongings back into your bag.

“Drop dead, Fogarty.”

You spun on your heel and headed for the couches to squish into an armchair with Kevin, ignoring the indignant splutter and deep laughter of the boys behind you. Immediately after you sat down, Veronica leant towards you with her usual determined look. 

“So, this football game that Archie’s planning for the juvie boys, what do you think? Want to come and cheer him on with us?” Noting your arched brow of confusion, she elaborated. “Archiekins was saying that the guys in there needed a pep rally more than most, so what better way to raise their spirits than with a good show? The Vixens are practicing the routine tonight ready for Thursday. Join us?”

You wrinkled your nose and gave Veronica a weird look as she waited for your answer.

“Are you asking me to dance like a slut in front of my twin?”

As everyone else laughed, Veronica gave you an unimpressed look at the teasing smile on your face.

“Ok, ok, I’ll take that as a no.”

Grinning, you turned your eyes to Fangs.

“I know someone else who would look great in a mini skirt though.”

Never one to turn down a bet, it wasn’t long before things had escalated and Fangs decided to don one of the cheer uniforms and run around the school in it. His conclusion that he enjoyed the freedom and the breeze that came from a skirt kept you giggling the rest of the day.

Archie was a week into juvie, and already he looked like shit. He was pale and tired, and as a Serpent you had enough experience with fighting to know that he couldn’t sit normally because he was bruised as hell. Concern flooded your face, and you spared the guard a quick look before leaning closer to your brother.

“Arch, who did this?”

Archie looked around them, noting the other prisoners who sat close enough to hear all seemed to be too busy to listen. He turned back around, staring down at his hands instead of you.

“It-” he started, only to quickly close his mouth and shake his head, “it doesn’t matter.”

Glaring at him, you ground out his name in a warning tone. Knowing you weren’t going to drop it, he sighed heavily and leaned in close. 

“Ghoulies,” he mumbled, only meeting your eyes for a second as thunder thrummed in your bones.

“Those fucking sons of bitches!” you spat, hands balling into fists. “What about the Serpents, are they protecting you?”

Archie opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t get a chance as yells rang out, an inmate and their guest throwing punches at one another across the room. The inmates were herded to the far wall as the guards called for the end of visits, ushering you and the other visitors towards the exit. A quick hug and a demand that he stay safe, and you were all but shoved out of the room. You were furious as you began the drive home, hands clenching the steering wheel so tight you stopped being able to fully feel your fingers. 

The Ghoulies had been a problem ever since you’d joined the Serpents, and you had always hated them. Now that they were after your brother? No way were you about to let that slide.

Instead of going home, you’d gone straight to Jughead with an intense need to rant before you exploded. With an agreement that something had to be done, you decided to brainstorm possible ideas the next day after school, and you left the trailer slightly calmer than you had arrived. 

Nothing ever got to be done regarding the juvie situation, as three weeks then went by without anyone being able to see Archie. You and your dad were angry and fearful, unaware of what was happening to him. The Warden’s claims of Archie starting a riot were bullshit, and you all knew it. You were curled up on the sofa watching Game of Thrones reruns as your dad met with his lawyer when your phone buzzed with a call from Veronica.

Intrigued, you quickly answered, and as soon as you heard the name Penny, you were stuffing on your jacket and trainers with the promise you’d be at the speakeasy in 10. Once there, Veronica quickly explained Penny’s offer of protection and the following shipment of Jingle Jangle, as well as her belief that her father was behind it, and her, Cheryl and Toni’s  storming of the drug lab at the Whyte Worm. 

“So you blackmailed your father into backing off, what do you need from me?”

Veronica fixed you with a smile, rounding the bar to hand you a glossy card invitation.

“To come to opening night. Not only do you have to be there as a friend, but also I have a feeling Penny might come sniffing around with threats - we both know she isn’t what you’d call loyal and I wouldn’t put it past her to try and pull something.”

You nodded thoughtfully as you stared at the card in your hand, raising your gaze to meet Veronica with a sly smile.

“I need to speak to her about a Ghoulie infestation anyway. I’ll be there.”

“Excellent! Then there’s just one more thing,” Veronica smiled widely, casting a raised eyebrow at your scuffed trainers and ripped jeans. “Wear a dress.”

That night, La Bonne Nuit was packed out with the younger residents of Riverdale. Josie was singing, drinks were flowing, and everyone was dressed to suit the 20s decor. A black cocktail dress and heels had you fitting in nicely, and you were feeling pretty good as you spent the evening laughing with friends. 

You stayed on alert though, keeping an eye out for Penny or Ghoulies sent to cause trouble. Sweet Pea, Fangs and Jughead were doing the same, keeping a watch on the entryway as they mingled. You were sat in a booth chatting to Betty when you felt eyes on you. A quick glance over the blondes shoulder and you caught Sweet Pea turning back to Fangs to whisper something. They seemed to be having a heated discussion, some stupid disagreement knowing them, but as you carried on talking to Betty you realised that as they talked, the boys swapped between looking at you and looking at Josie. 

You shook off the weirdness, getting lost in anecdotes as more people came to join you, until a hand on your shoulder had you looking up to meet Veronica’s steely gaze. Excusing yourself, with a quick reassurance to Betty that everything was fine, you let Veronica pull you by the hand through the crowd to the bar. There, Reggie looked pissed as he hung up the phone, and you looked at him expectantly.

“Penny’s just pulled up outside and I’m gonna guess she ain’t here for a burger.”

Sighing, you gave Reggie a nod, and beckoned for Veronica to follow you upstairs. On your way, you caught the questioning stare of Sweet Pea, and you cocked your thumb at Reggie in answer. He could explain, you needed to move. Steeling your expression into your ‘I know i’m short but im actually a tough gang member’ face, you pushed past the queue of people still waiting to get into the speakeasy and stalked outside to the car park. 

Illuminated by the light of the diner, Penny leant against her car, her cocky smirk instantly irritating you. Veronica stuck close by your side and, as you’d done several times before, you admired her tenacity. Still, she was out of her element, more used to the organised turn-taking style of mob business rather than the rough and tumble gang fights, so your priority was ensuring she got out of this unscathed. 

“What are you doing here, Penny? I thought I told you that your services were not required, as much as I appreciate the offer.”

Penny snorted at Veronica’s steady words, choosing not to heed the warning and instead pushed off the car and began to stroll towards the two of you. Despite her casual pace and crossed arms, you took a step forward to keep some distance between her and the girl behind you, wary of her intentions. 

Noticing your movement, Penny smiled sickly and stopped in her tracks, narrowed eyes watching you with a dangerous glint.

“My, my, Lodge, you sure are a lucky girl,” the blonde began in a mocking tone, “you always seem to have a little Andrews guard dog yapping around your heels.”

Not in the mood for Penny and her games, your fingers reached for the pocket that wasn’t there, then clenched into fists, teeth gritted as you realised your knife was in your jacket pocket, which was still in the cloakroom.

“Listen, bitch, you’re not welcome here, so get the hell out. Veronica and her speakeasy are protected by the Serpents, so go do your dirty business elsewhere.” 

Your sharp tone and pissed off expression seemed to rile up the older woman, and she took a step closer to square up to you.

“Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me what to do, ok little girl? I could 

you with my pinkie. So how about you and the princess here show me some respect before I have one of my guys on the inside slit your brothers throat.”

You barely heard Veronica’s gasp or the bell above the door signalling someone exiting Pop’s over the rushing of blood in your ears. You didn’t feel yourself move, just felt a wave of total fury before your fist collided with Penny’s cheek. The blonde went sprawling onto the tarmac as you glared down at her, pain shooting up your arm and you learn down to grab the lapels of her jacket and tug her up to a half sitting position so you were face to face. 

“Go anywhere near my brother,” you whispered menacingly, “and you’re fucking dead.” 

Roughly releasing your grip, you stood and backed away as Penny pulled herself up from the ground, laughing as she wiped the trickle of blood from her mouth. 

“Oh, you have no 

what you’re messing with, but I promise you now, I’m gonna kill your bro with my bare hands.” 

You lunged forward, barely making it a step before strong arms pulled you back. Despite the vice grip of leather sleeves and tattooed hands, you still tried to fight free and get to Penny, all the emotions that had been building up for weeks begging to be set free. Either side of you, the Serpents appeared, Fangs half in front of you in a protective stance, and Jughead slouching cockily on your right. 

“You’re outnumbered, Penny, take the advice and get the hell out of here,” ordered the Serpent King, staring her down.

Penny didn’t respond at first, letting her eyes drift over the small group. Finally, with a cheery goodbye, and a smirk that spelled trouble directed at you, she stalked back to her car and made a speedy exit. You watched the lights disappear around the corner in silence, muscles going slack as Sweet Pea relaxed his grip on you. 

Everyone stayed quiet, and you took a few staggered breaths to try and release the adrenaline coursing through you. When you felt sufficiently calmer, you eased Sweet Pea’s hand off of your waist, squeezing his fingers quickly to quell the hard frown he was currently staring you down with. You turned to the others with a quick thank you, flexing your fingers experimentally to make sure you hadn’t damaged anything on Penny’s stupid smug face. You knew they were all staring at you, waiting for you to explode in anger from Penny’s words, and you couldn’t blame them. You had a notoriously short temper, and the strange calm you felt surprised even you. With one last look at the dots of blood on the ground, you avoided the gazes of your friends, striding straight past to head back inside and get a seriously strong drink. 

Exchanging concerned glances, the rest shortly followed, and spent the night on edge as they waited for you to snap.

Instead of snapping, you got wasted. 

It seemed to work, as you were no longer angry - you were stumbling around laughing your ass off instead. Despite the initial worry over your choice of distraction, everyone else had shortly started to drink with you in solidarity, which led to the Serpents and their Northside buddies crashing out of the front door of Pop’s and spilling into the car park way past closing time.

Cheryl and Toni were flirting, Sweet Pea, Jughead and Fangs were play fighting, and you had your arms linked with Kevin and Betty as you slurred through Mean Girls quotes in a competition of who knew the film best. At the corner you split ways to head home, leaving you with Jug, Betty and Sweet Pea. The couple quickly cosied up together, whispering, while you dropped back a few paces to link arms with Sweet Pea. Heaving a contented sigh, you lent your head right back to look up at the stars, and if you weren’t hanging on to the boy next to you for support, you’d be on your ass. 

“You know you live in the opposite direction, right?”

Sweet Pea’s eyes quickly darted to you when you spoke, as if he had been deep in thought. Smiling, he steered you around a lamppost.

“You think I’m gonna trust you walking home alone right now?” You turned to him, opening your mouth but he shot a pointed look at the couple in front of you and beat you to it. “And no, they don’t count, they wouldn’t notice if I got naked and started doing the Single Ladies dance.” 

You laughed unabashedly, prompting another grin from the usually sullen Serpent. 

You walked most of the way in silence, bid goodbye to the loved-up couple outside of your house, and now stood on your porch. The night was quiet, the house dark, and luckily you had sobered up enough in the cool night air to keep your voice low. 

“Thanks for walking me home, Sweets. And thanks for having my back earlier. You’re always there when I need you.” 

His face was gentle, lit softly by the porch light as his eyes searched your face.

“And you’re always there for me. We look out for each other - that’s what friends do, right?”

You felt a stab in your gut at the word ‘friends’, and you took a half-step back as you realized how close the two of you were. 

“Well, still, Penny’s gonna be out of my blood now and you didn’t have to risk being pulled into it, so thank you.” 

You gave him a hug, throat going tight at the feeling of his arms around you. Pulling back with a cough, you gave him a smile and murmured goodnight before twisting around to unlock your door. Before you could disappear inside, Sweet Pea grasped your wrist, tugging you gently to look back at him.

“Don’t do that. Don’t brush off my help and think I give a shit that sticking up for you could get me in trouble. I’ll protect you no matter what, even if it kills me, ok?”

You were stunned and speechless, stood gawping at him until it was his turn to mumble a farewell and stride down the pathway. Collecting yourself, you headed inside, and as you shut the door behind you, your eyes met Sweet Pea’s as he stood on the pavement in front of your house, waiting till you were safely inside before he left.

Leaning back against the cool wood of the front door, you slumped down onto the floor of your dark hallway, head in your hands.

“God, I’m so fucking screwed.”

[helenhuntingdon]

@ Anon who asked about Eifion backstory! 

I was like where did you hear of Eifion being problematic??? Then I realised it may have been from me......

So yeah I can try to breakdown everything I remember but it’s been 10-11 years so I couldn’t go through everything, or remember everything! And remember, I am an unreliable narrator!!!

But basically:

>He arrived in 2007 as Cadno’s rogueish bad boy boyfriend then was a regular from 2008? Basically early sl was them settling down on the farm (living with previous/joint owners Eileen and her ex Denzil, and their teen daughter Sioned, which will be relevant later~) You can see some of that here but without subtitles! But basically, dead cow alert! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xYi6B6nelcU&t=4899s And then Eifion was depressed like I said~ They also had their first son! Cadno had had a miscarriage previously to that.

>Tbh you could read what I already wrote lol https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213248/chapters/35283857

>THEN Eifion fully lost his mind and so did the writers and he had an affair with Sioned, Cadno’s younger cousin. (I think she was about 20 then, 5 years ago?) It was creepy and happened in the same house and Cadno and was the lowest low point!!! Then Cadno found out she was pregnant with their second son after she found out about the affair - Eifion didn’t get to see their second son for like a month after he was born! 

>At some point Cadno left with the baby and got close to Gwyneth, main bisexual of the village lol. They ACTUALLY had a bit of a thing, snogged at the least! (Eifion wasn’t best pleased.) But Cadno decided she had to leave the village entirely and did for a bit (with the baby, who was then kidnapped by Iolo’s brother Macs, hm.) 

>Eifion got with Angela, blond nurse who ended up being Sioned’s sister (she was put up for adoption) and they were boring and selfish together lol. Eifion w/ Angela fought w/ Cadno, Angela wanted to do glamping??? on the farm, Cadno wanted Eifion to get a vasectomy so neither of them would have more children (Angela was pissed) but while Cadno got sterilized, Eifion chickened out of getting the vasectomy lol (Angela was still pissed!) They moved in together off the farm, with Angela’s daughter, and Eifion was a traffic warden so not the most likeable still yet lol. (Also Eifion pretending he was hurt lol? for money from Dai. Was found out when Angela threw a rugby ball at him in the pub lol.)

>Then Angela decided she wasn’t getting enough attention from him and decided she had a brain aneurysm! She’d been fainting and Eifion was worried about her symptoms but she was diagnosed w/ anaemia and then felt like Eifion wasn’t worried enough about her any more! So was like no actually I have a brain aneurysm I COULD DIE. Eifion proposed to her but she was worried it was just bc she was dying (which she wasn��t and it was) but he proposed again and I think they got married in Las Vegas????? (Bc not wanting someone to die = love) She got money from the village as well so she was pretty hated when it came out, as was Eifion but he insisted he’d also been lied to (and he had been!) Eifion left her and then she left. 

>Angela’s daughter Courtney, now Eifion’s step-daughter, stayed with Eifion and they’d gotten close! They bonded over Angela having lied to them both basically. (Fave interaction between them: Eifion: You know what I did when I thought your mother was sick? I gave people more tickets - even when they didn’t deserve them. Courtney: Eifion that’s terrible!) Eifion bought her her first car and it was covered in flower pattern it was so cute! Then she crashed the car into Tylo’s wedding and died RIP! See Tylo’s wedding for that and Eifion yelling her name at the end! 

>So there was some mourning period there, he saw her body at the hospital with Eileen (being her grandmother). It was discovered that Courtney had been pregnant and her bio dad and other people who hated Eifion decided he must’ve got her pregnant (DJ, Cadno’s boyfriend and Gaynor, the school headmistress, who Eifion dated for a short time disastruously - tho I think that was a comedy thing bc the Eifion and Gaynor actors are married irl!) but obviously he hadn’t yikes! She had a (teen!) boyfriend and hadn’t told her dad but still Eifion was banned from her funeral :( (In the end, they made up and everyone knew who the baby’s father really would’ve been.) Angela returned for a bit as well and she and Eifion decided to get a divorce bc their whole relationship had been a mistake and he should’ve stayed with Cadno! 

>(I kind of headcanon that at this point when Eifion was living alone then, in the house where he had lived with Angela and Courtney RIP, he could’ve been sleeping with men! This was like a couple of years ago~) 

>But Eifion was back at the farm when Cadno had an accident (her farmy boyfriend reversed a tractor over her, ow!) and he took care of her but kind of drove off her boyfriend as well (he was going to propose to her but imo if he couldn’t handle taking care of Cadno and her 2 sons after her accident, that’s his problem). Eifion and Cadno actually had a good friendship for a little bit, while maturely being parents to their sons - he was slightly scheming to get back on the farm tho lol. Cadno’s boyfriend did come back and propose and she eventually accepted and kicked Eifion back out - but when they were getting married, Eifion told her that they belonged together~ And Cadno didn’t marry him but told Eifion to fuck off afterwards bc she’d just not been ready to get married! But after a little bit they finally got back together, at the start of 2017, bc they’d both changed ~apparently~ and Cadno believed Eifion had done well on his own, been a good step father and was a good father now (redemption??? hmm)

>Next significant storyline I guess was Eifion and Tyler fighting? At the time was because Eifion’s younger (second???) cousin Mathew had had an affair with Tyler’s sister Dani but in hindsight was it bc of gay tension??? Hmm. Or can be retconned that way lol. You can watch that in the Tylo sl as well and lbr do I have a playlist of all/most of Eifion scenes that are on yt? yes. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKakjRzUXEOfdR-daGxBLk871-VY4ypvG

>That led into someone overhearing Cadno and Eifion discussing that she helped her ex’s mother die (he was basically saying he admired her for what she’d done, after having said less nice things) and she got arrested, leading to legal fees, leading to that meat plot I badly described earlier lol http://helenhuntingdon.tumblr.com/post/176350294204/what-exactly-did-eifion-do-that-led-to-him-and

>He then scarpered for 3 weeks in Swansea (where he maybe??? met Alun???) then since returning has just been adjusting to his new life living above a shop lol? I’ve giffed some scenes from then and may gif some more so just see here lol (and I would also watch scenes from Tylo’s sl with Alun and Iolo for Alun talking about his relationship with ‘John’ if you haven’t!) https://helenhuntingdon.tumblr.com/tagged/eifion+rowlands 

In conclusion lol, 

This may not be all accurate and obviously can’t include EVERYTHING that’s ever happened to his character and in his storyline but

he was more of a bad boy than a villain originally and never fully became a villain! His early depression sl I still remember bc it was a good sl! Has maybe been sneaky, selfish most of all, made terrible life choices, takes the easy way out, etc. but from his srsly lowest point of having an affair with Sioned, he’s gotten steadily less terrible lol, was kind of just a ridiculous character for a few years but was a better person from his relationship with Courtney, became a better father, changed when he was with Angela perhaps and to get back with Cadno (taking care of her!) and while he’s been with Cadno he’s been better than he was before! 

BUT he still is having an affair and lied to Alun AND Cadno so ofc he’s problematic lol! But he’s a more sympathetic (problematic asshole) than he was and this kind of makes his character more consistent than he had been for a while? In a retconny way but it makes sense to me looking at his whole sl, his previous issues, his inconsistencies as a person! 

Will Eifion EVER make good life choices????? We will wait and see ;; 

[defiancerpg-blog]

Congratulations SNOW, you have been accepted as CORVUS, THE RAVEN with the faceclaim of PARK HYUN SIK and the PUSHING ability!

Notes from the Admins: Ellie and Tasha:

Your portrayal of Corvus was spot on and gets very much to the point and heart (or perhaps lack thereof) of who he is. I (Tasha) actually love the lack of information he gives on certain subjects, especially when it comes to the people who raised him. Sometimes less is so much more, and your responses are a perfect example of that. I also love your headcanon with the older woman who took him in. I (Ellie) agree wholeheartedly with Tasha. Your writing is amazing and you really brought him to life for us, in my opinion.  

We also would like to formally accept your request for a name alteration to Lee Dae-Young. We also love the story behind it.  

You have 48 hours to send in your blog. If you haven’t already joined the group discord then you may do so now (if that’s your wish) [x]. Once you have turned in your blog, you will be given a role that will allow you access to the private channels regarding plots/characters. Please remember to do everything on the checklist, and also we just want to thank you for joining this roleplay. We hope your time with us will be a fun and memorable one!

ALIAS & PRONOUNS: Snow. She/her   AGE: 19 TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL, & RP EXPERIENCE: -5 GMT. I have pretty busy schedule two out of four weeks a month, basically i will have a normal activity one week and the next I will barely be there. I’ve been roleplaying about four years,  however I have just started roleplaying in English recently, as my native language is Spanish. I hope you don’t mind. TRIGGERS: none. REFERRAL: I saw a promo-ask from an indie rp but I’m don’t remember exactly which one. APPLICATION PASSWORD: Slim Shady BASIC IC INFORMATION SKELETON: Corvus, the Raven FACECLAIM: Koo Jun-hoe, Song Joong Ki (has younger, HQ resources available), Park Hyung Sik, Seo Kang Joon. AGE: 26 ORIENTATION: undecided. ORIGIN: Born in Korea, kidnapped and was moved to America. NOVA TYPE: Mentis ABILITY: Pushing. Illusion Manipulation, THE INTERVIEW:

Instead of a traditional biography, this roleplay has an “interview” to understand the character’s past but also who they are as a person. The goal here is for you to answer the questions from the character’s point of view (third person) as if they were being asked by The Imperium’s artificial intelligence, E.R.I.S.. Think of it as a background check meant to explore who the character is more in-depth than a bio. They do not have to vocally answer the question nor do they have to tell the truth. However, you must give some understanding of what the truth is through their internal monologue/thoughts.

TW: Inferred Abuse, suicide/murder mention.

So, tell me a little bit about growing up. What was your childhood like? Was that thing serious? Was this some kind of twisted joke? Whatever, Axel was just not in the mood to venture down that path ⏤not now, not ever⏤ so he did what he does best: lie his way out. “Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. I was a very sheltered kid, didn’t get to play outside much, always locked inside, being taught by them. My parents,” he clarified to the hologram, flicking his wrist “you see, they were strict and wanted me to be the perfect son.” Oh, they wanted him to be something, alright, Axel was just never sure what. “Not a very remarkable childhood, it was always predictable, unsurprising. I like my life better, now, no nostalgia.” What about your relationship with your family? “Oh, my parents? I don’t talk to them anymore. No love lost between us, like I said, they were very strict and sometimes… Sometimes they just stepped over the line” his voice grew dark, his gaze lost somewhere over E.R.I.S’ shoulder for just a few seconds. He was seven again and he could smell cigarettes and weed, his knees hurt where he had scrapped them earlier after he was pushed down… And then he was back, with a smile firm into place and a relaxed posture, no trace of the storm in his eyes “But they made me who I am and I don’t really miss them, although the must miss me terribly. Maybe someday I will pay them a visit.” Are you the only Nova in your family? Or were your parents Novas too? What about any siblings? Axel blinked. Once, twice. His face went blank, his mouth parted slightly as the nothingness ate away at his insides. “Those are really good questions, I’ll give you that.” His voice was dead, his heartbeat steady as he tried and failed to grasp even a single memory from before. “Really, don’t know, I was adopted and it was a closed adoption… So I can’t really answer that.” The blank expression was painted over by joy, small wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes as he smiled, a twisted mark of the cracks he sported on his soul. It didn’t stop him from keeping his voice light and playful to answer “Raincheck?” What’s your ability like? Is it easy to control or harder? Do you even like it? What even were these questions? Why did this stupid machine need them? Axel was starting to get tired of it, but he couldn’t just trick it into letting go. He couldn’t convince it he had answered everything and walk away. The smile on his face didn’t waver as he shrugged. “It’s not very useful in a fight, if you know what I mean. I hardly use it, as the occasion never arises but I like it. I’m really bad with it, I never use it so I haven’t had the chance to master it” Lies, lies and more lies were spilling out of his lips, his heartbeat steady as he kept eye contact with the hologram. Who knew who could be watching? The charade had to keep going. “It’s hard to use, it rarely ever works and I have to focus a lot to push something into someone’s mind. Could you imagine if i jokingly said ‘jump off a cliff’ and my ability suddenly decided to work and they did it? Gosh, I guess I have to be very careful with it.” How would you describe your personality? “Charming, charismatic, easy-going” Ah, now he didn’t have to lie… Only a little bit. He was all those things 24/7 around here, that’s what he wanted them to believe. If he was just the jokester, the nice guy that everyone liked but no one really paid much thought to… He had the power. “I like to mess around, make people happy, hear them laugh. I’m a people-person.” What do you think your greatest strengths and weaknesses are? “My greatest weakness is my greatest strength: I’m devastatingly handsome.” A laugh was artfully added at the end of the sentence when Axel shrugged, his fingernails scratching an itch behind his ear as he looked up at the hologram. “It’s hard for me to takes things seriously, sometimes. I guess that’s both.” That was the truth, the truth disguised as a joke, as a comment with no weight behind it. Of course it was to take things seriously; feelings and people, with their dumb, delicate minds always there, tempting him to break them, were not really people to him. In his eyes, they were mere toys to play with and discard when they broke. Where and what were you doing the day the Nova Protection Act was enacted? “I was somewhere in Vegas, having fun. It really put a grey cloud over my head, having to go on the run…” Or it would have, if he actually had had to do it. a whispered ‘tell your superiors all’s clear’ here and a ‘you didn’t find any Novas on this floor’ there were more than enough to keep Axel out of the radar for as long as it did. Normal people would gladly offer their homes after a smile and a soft ‘offer me to stay at your place’ and a offhand ‘don’t tell anyone I’m staying here’ and in special occasions ‘I’m your best friend from high school, silly.’ Did you immediately run? Or did you try to obey the law and report to the Anti-Nova Force? “I’m a nice kid but… I heard the stories. I ran and I didn’t look back” Or more like walked peacefully without looking over his shoulder. How have you survived this last year and a half or so? Did you have any help or were you all alone? How did you find Yalena’s Sanctuary? “There are good people out there. Some gave me shelter and food, broke the law to protect them… I’m grateful to them” Axel smiled, grateful for them but not to them; had he not stumbled into them, well, he would’ve been caught faster. After all, those people hadn’t offered out of their kindness of their hearts, except that one old woman. A soft, almost imperceptible smile grazed his lips as he remembered the old halmeonin that had caught him mid Push and smacked him in the back of the head; she had done it out of the goodness of her heart, offered him the attic of her two-story house in the suburbs of Chicago and in the few months he was with her, the woman had taught him a little of the culture he had been ripped away from, she had treated him like the grandson she had lost… Until the Wardens had taken her way from him. “I got caught, though. [The Dove] saved my ass and brought me with her to Yalena’s sanctuary” his voice grew serious, his eyes void of that fake mirth he like to sport “I owe her my life.” What were you doing when the raid happened? How did you respond to the flood of Wardens? How quickly did you go through Yalena’s portal? “I was enjoying a bit of sunshine when they came in. No, I’m lying, I don’t know, I was probably just joking around with on of the others when they came in, shooting first and asking questions later. I’m gonna be honest, I ran the other way…” Axel closed his mouth, intertwining his hands until his knuckles turned white, breathing hard. He wished this was all an act, but the truth was the wardens storming into the sanctuary had brought memories that he had buried deep down: the screaming and the chaos, the thought of ‘get away, get away’ being the only thing in his mind, feeling his legs give out under him and just cowering in a corner like a scared little boy. That day, with the sound of boots and the smell of blood in the air, Axel was eight years old again and hiding from the monsters. “I ran until I found [The Dove] and I only went through that portal after she did.” What has living in The Imperium been like for you? Do you feel safer than before? Is it better or worse than on the run, or Yalena’s Sanctuary? Axel tried his best not to let it show, but really, he failed. He clenched his teeth, his hands had they not been intertwined would be formed into fists and his face was without a mask: he looked pissed and nothing like the happy-go-lucky boy he acted as. “I hate being caged. I hate it and just… Being on the run was better, at least I was free, in danger but free. Yalena’s wasn’t as good as being on the run but at least it was above ground, ya’ feel? Just… If I could stay on the surface’s run down building, I would.” Wouldn’t be much different to my entire childhood, he added to himself, looking at the floor and trying to get his breathing under control. The last question. If war broke out between Novas and the humans, which side will you be on? No one’s, is the honest answer. If anything, he would let them destroy each other and walk over the ashes of the losing side, hands in his pockets and whistling the same melody the monster used to hum when they made his life hell. “Whichever side [The Dove] chooses, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah?” CONNECTIONS:

I love the idea of Corvus helping Columba begrudgingly. Life debts are my favorite plots because are they being loyal to that person? Are they being loyal to themselves? What exactly will it take for him to betray or turn his back on her? I want to explore that, see where it leads.

I want him to interact with Centaurus. If Centaurus personality is to give and Corvus’ is to take by force… I can’t wait for him to meet someone so willing to give themselves away without a thought.

HEADCANONS:

He can cook. He can cook and he can clean and he can do house chores better than any maid. Why? Because not doing it right in his childhood meant a trip to ‘The Dark Room.’ And Axel would do anything not to end there.

Lee Hong-Im was the name of the grandma that caught him using his ability. She gave him something he never had before: a home. She would treat him like a child and he didn’t care because for the first time, someone was caring for him. She gave him a Korean name, from a drama she loved: Daeyoung, because he ‘liked to act as if he didn’t have feeling when he felt too much’. And for a while, he was Lee Dae-Young, Lee Hong-Im’s grandson, and he was less of a monster. The Wardens, however, got a tip of his location and came down on the house; Lee Hong-Im tried to stall them to give Daeyoung time to run, only to be shot and killed. That’s how he got captured.

He introduced himself as Lee Dae-Young to the other Novas. That’s the name he goes by now and it helps him to get into character. Lee Daeyoung is a happy-go-lucky, easily distracted guy, he’s social and sympathetic, although a little useless in the ability department. Lee DaeYoung

CHANGES:

The name. If accepted, Axel would still be called Axel outside the Imperium but to the Novas he would be Daeyoung and his real name would be a secret.

DETAILED IC INFORMATION (OPTIONAL STUFF; THIS IS ALL MERELY SUGGESTIONS, NONE OF IT IS REQUIRED)

Headcanon: After he was rescued, Axel was put in foster care, but soon got tired of it all and walked away. He lived in penthouses without paying rent, boarded planes without a ticket, walked out of stores wearing new clothes and simply lived the best life without worrying about anything. How? By abusing his power. Really, not even the cops could hold him down for more than a few minutes. It Amused Me: Axel does things to amuse himself, because he can, because it’s fun and satisfying. Usually, they aren’t nice things, to put it mildly. Raised by Orcs: Well, he was raised by monsters and turned into something completely different than what he should’ve been. The Sociopath & Conditioned to Accept Horror: I feel this applies only partly, but it was his upbringing and his surroundings what killed him inside, and now, ‘horrifying’ isn’t exactly a word in his vocabulary. Dark and Troubled Past: is being abducted and abused all his childhood considered D&TP? I think so. The Charmer: he did, after all, manage to join the Novas under the pretense of being a nice, charming guy, right? Faux Affably Evil: this is the one I think fits him completely. He is, overall, a charming guy that lacks a conscience and a little empathy.   Soft-spoken Sadist: when he’s not being all up-beat and energetic to keep the facade, I picture Axel with this soft, deep voice that sends chills down his victim’s spines. He has learn to be like that to make his ability usage less obvious, almost always managing to get away with it. I want to see if he’s still “human” deep down, I wanna know if someone has what it takes to earn his real loyalty. https://co.pinterest.com/stcrmynight/ch-corvus/ ANYTHING ELSE? I’m really happy about this Roleplay, I love that it is so inclusive and everyone seems very nice. Thank you for making it!

[gladofwar-blog]

(i don't want to send a kiss meme about baldr obv but can i say this message is for five times he's kissed loki 👀)

send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed || accepting

i. omaha. june, 1870.

“all the best heists involve jumping from a moving train,” loki shouts, over the sound of the engine, the frantic banging on the back door of the last carriage- the people they’ve stolen from, undoubtedly, looking for revenge. “don’t you know?”

wednesday grabs loki and kisses him hard, before breaking away. “let’s go.”

loki’s laughter is wild as they vault over the safety railing, and before wednesday hits the ground with him, all he can think of is how the liesmith’s mouth tastes like smoke.

ii.  las vegas. april, 1995.

sunday night, and they’re sitting at the back of a chapel. up front, a preacher dressed as elvis marries a couple to drunk to do anything but slur out their vows.

“the world’s moving on,” wednesday is saying, eyes fixed on that neon cross above the altar. “they’re going to forget us. all we did for them, and they’re throwing us to the fucking-”

“are you two gentlemen going next?” the preacher asks, as the newly-weds stagger off.

before he knows what’s going on, loki has dragged him to the altar. 

you bastard, he thinks, thoughts of war shoved to the back of his mind. i’ll kill you-

loki dips him when they kiss, with surprising strength, and it takes all of wednesday’s willpower not to slap him there and then.

iii.  backstage. november, 1932.

they lay thor to rest on a thursday, ironically. or at least wednesday thinks it’s a thursday- time is relative backstage.

he’s the last one around, watching that burning pyre float further and further away from the shore. the sunset makes it look like the pyre has touched the sky, has set it on fire as well.

for all he knows, it might as well be the truth.

“he took after you.” loki comes to a stop beside him. 

“i didn’t think we were that desperate,” wednesday says, quietly. “and i didn’t think he would blow his fucking brains out, that he was that  fucking dumb-”

it’s not even malice in his voice. it’s just disbelief, that these things happen in his household, and he doesn’t even know until it’s too late.

loki’s lips are hot against his cheek. his voice is but a whisper in wednesday’s ear. “you were a good father, grimnir.”

“and you’re the best liar i know,” he snaps, but when he looks up, he’s alone again.

iv. enroute to prison. august, 2010.

middle of the afternoon, and wednesday’s driving loki to prison. they’re both in uniform, the dark blue of wednesday’s suit strange in contrast to the dirty orange jumpsuit the trickster is wearing. 

“you better miss me,” loki says, as they near their destination.

“fuck you.” he rolls his one good eye. “and good riddance, too.”

transferring loki into prison occurs without a hitch- right up until the trickster decides to put on a little show for his new wardens, breaking free of their grip before they can pat him down.

wednesday staggers back when loki collides with him, pretends to shove the prisoner back-

“see you later, asshole,” loki says, and his tongue flicks against wednesday’s-

he pretends to scowl when the wardens wrestle loki to the ground, but tips the other a wink when no one is watching.

v. [information redacted]

the cameras are about to start rolling. he watches media thrill and fuss over the equipment, about the lighting, the positioning.

he knows that once they start rolling, there will be no going back.

“are you ready?”

that familiar voice in his ear, the only one who will follow him through hell and back- with the exception of shadow, of course. but shadow can’t match up to the man beside him, not in a million years.

(shadow is his own man- metaphorically, of course. and, sometimes, not even then.)

wednesday turns to appraise the other. “it’s now or never.”

they kiss, solemnly, the old world style: forehead, both cheeks, and wednesday squeezes his wildfire’s shoulders. 

“we’re about to start!” media calls, and it’s only then that he’s forced to let go, sliding out into view of the cameras, masquerade finally, finally coming to a climax.

BONUS ROUND:

there’s a little red dot dancing over his face. 

he knows exactly where it’s coming from, knows exactly what will happen in about two seconds-

his gaze flicks towards the man standing behind the cameras, behind the equipment-

red hair, the red wednesday will know anywhere, at any time-

he does not feel it when the side of his face explodes, bullet tearing through flesh, a shower of blood raining down on his nice crisp suit-

his last coherent thought, aimed at his brother-

i’m going to send you my dry cleaning bill.

[playercharacter1]

I said that I’d wait to try the DLCs before working out how much of them I want to incorporate into the gameverse tale, and having played Dead Money I’m now inclined to think I want to incorporate more or less the whole thing - because it gives me a really handy post-game hook. Almost certainly messes with the canon timeline a bit, but I’m not out to write a novel any time soon so I’m handwaving it in the name of fun.

As noted, Larkin gets drawn into the Dead Money mess around the age of 23, spends a week or so suffering, and gets out with...maybe one gold bar, which allows for a comfortable few months in recompense. (A spending splurge that means she recovers well from her time amidst the Cloud, with a healthy portion left over as savings to be squirrelled away for emergencies.) She parts with Christine on loosely friendly terms; they didn’t know each other long enough or under relaxed enough circumstances to bond in any great depth, but after dragging someone’s dying ass up a staircase and collaborating on a murder plot with them, it’s only natural to hope their future endeavours go well.

At age 25-26, nine-ish months of game plot occur. Blah blah etc, Larkin eventually deposes House and establishes herself as a significant power in Vegas, with Veronica and Yes Man helping her out. The first six months that follow are barely bridled chaos, and even after that there is a hell of a lot to deal with; there are plenty of people who respect Larkin for being The Courier who pushed the NCR and Legion out, but no small number resent her for upending the status quo so dramatically (and nearly plunging the city into complete economic disaster in the process). There are of course also the handful who simply see her as easier pickings than the elusive House ever was.

And Larkin’s certainly more exposed than House, because she still insists on striking her deals and seeing things carried out in person. There’s a danger to it, but there’s equal danger in sitting too far out of the action; she knows how easy it to have vital information hidden or misconstrued by those with an agenda. It’s around this period that she upgrades her look a bit from the grubby wastelander half-angling to be underestimated. Still goes armed and armoured (because there’s presenting a confident image and then there’s asking to be stabbed), but it’s less of a chunky / patchwork mess, and more...something like the assassin suit in style, I suppose? A sleeker, meaner Larkin, balancing practicality against image, her background and experiences against life as a permanent part of the Strip.

Two-ish years after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, Larkin’s progressed from significant power to dominant power, generally recognised as the head of what loose hierarchy exists, and had a few close calls. A wary eye is still kept on all horizons, with rumours out of both east and west speaking not of war, not yet, but enough hostility to settle uncomfortably between her shoulder-blades. She has alliances, but people are fickle; she has the Securitrons, but they’re known and familiar and far from invulnerable, and their numbers have been whittled down over the years. As she lounges at the top of the Lucky 38, she finds her thoughts drifting back to a misadventure from her youth and the unique tech she’d witnessed there.

At age 28, Larkin returns to the Sierra Madre with Veronica in tow - a Veronica who’s older and tireder and still trying to do what’s right. The former scribe has been loyal, has been valuable, and has been growing ever uneasier with her friend / sometimes lover and all that’s been done in the name of staying safe or making improvements or it’s not like this is how I want to play it, V, but it’s how it has to happen. After being cast aside by her old family, however, she can’t make herself abandon what small measure of it she has here. 

She’s taken completely by surprise by the face who greets them at the gates.

Larkin has long since guessed that Christine’s Elijah and Veronica’s Elijah are likely one and the same, and Veronica’s presence is at least partly grease on the wheels: Look at this! Old friends, all three of us. Who’d have thought? It works, too; nobody’s throwing themselves into anyone’s arms, but beneath the bewilderment and disbelief there’s real relief at finding out they’re both alive, and the faintest echoes of an old tenderness, a young love cut short but never forgotten. As for Larkin, well, Christine’s memories of Larkin are of a resourceful and reliable ally, and in the wild weirdness of the moment Veronica’s doubts are submerged again as they laugh together and shake heads over how they’ve all changed and oh, god, it’s really Christine? It makes for a warm welcome.

The good feeling lasts maybe a day or two as the warden shows them about and ample tales are traded. Then, on the second night, Larkin casually comes out and says that she’s here for the tech - for the holograms predominantly, but she’s not averse to the other bits and pieces that make the Sierra Madre such a fortress. She’s not after Elijah’s dream of hunching like a mad vulture over a dead zone, but the holograms alone would vastly improve her security.

Christine says no.

More than that, Veronica says no. She, more than Christine, knows what Larkin’s not saying, knows what kind of edge she’s seeking, has watched her walking slowly but steadily down a path that is becoming harder and harder to condone. And now - away from Vegas, away from the politicking and the danger and the Hard Choices That Must Be Made - she finds herself appealing to the young woman she befriended in the first place. Is this really necessary? Heck, do we even need to go back? It was just...it was so nice travelling out here, just the two of them (and a Securitron) like the old days, and Christine’s presence is reminding her of a time she was truly happy, which makes it easier to recognise that she’s not anymore. That she hasn’t been for a long time now.

Veronica’s reluctance only firms Christine’s stance that what’s in the Sierra Madre should stay in the Sierra Madre; likewise, Christine being present means Larkin can’t resort to her usual manipulative tactics to talk Veronica around from her misgivings. It means a long conversation that gets just close enough to ugly for Christine to grow wary - before Larkin finally smiles, holds up her hands, and says alright, very well, the point has been made. Can’t blame her for trying. Have you gotten much news from the south in your six years of solitude? Ah, well...

(And Veronica thinks, later, she should have known that moment for what it was, but she never really thought she’d end up on the other side of it.)

By the time they all part for bed, things aren’t quite as comfortable as they were before the disagreement, but Larkin waves off Veronica’s attempt to talk privately, claiming weariness and no hard feelings. Veronica hesitates, looks down the hallway a long moment before turning in...and then wakes during the night to find Larkin has attempted to lock both she and Christine in their rooms in order to take the tech by force.

What commences is three-ish days of cat-and-mousing in the deadly playground that is the Sierra Madre; no bomb collars this time at least, but an infinitely more personal fight. The longer it goes, the less Larkin holds back, and the ruthless resourcefulness that saw her turn the tables on Elijah has only been honed further since they last met. She is The Courier-

But Christine is the Warden. She has spent those same six years guarding this territory. She knows it inside and out, she taught Larkin half her skills with computers; the Cloud barely scathes her lungs, and the Ghost People shy away from her and those she protects. Eventually, with Veronica’s aid, she ends the bitter struggle over the Sierra Madre’s treasures by taking it out of the equation altogether - they rig a bomb that triggers a chemical reaction and ignites the Cloud like a funeral pyre that will burn for nearly a decade.

All three make it out before it goes; as deeply distressed as Veronica is by Larkin’s actions, as brutal a confirmation this has been that the woman she liked and loved (as a friend and, in a few precious moments, a little like something more) has gradually become no better than House, no better than Elijah - she doesn’t want her dead. She makes sure her old friend has a fair chance to escape.

Veronica and Christine flee together. Nothing has quite been rekindled between them yet; it’s been such a long time, and so much has happened. They’re quiet and hurting, leaving more things burning in Sierra Madre’s fires than tech and treasures. There’s a strange sense of lightness though, the slow awareness of freedom - from Christine’s vigil over the city of the dead, to Veronica’s dogged loyalty to a cause she’d long lost heart in - and for once the future is a total, enticing mystery.

Larkin limps back alone to New Vegas, humiliated and hating. To have lost a fight she started is a grievous blow to her pride, and the paranoiac edge that can in some ways be traced to the her first encounter with the Sierra Madre is now spiralling after the second - it doesn’t help that both Christine and Veronica are ex-Brotherhood, a group that Larkin has developed an increasingly personal grudge against. She genuinely believes that the fight isn’t finished here, that they’ll return all high and mighty to deny her Vegas as well, and even if they don’t someone else fucking will, there’s always someone who wants what she has.

She might not be wrong.

She will be ready.

[cdroloisms]

vegas team 2.0 lets go !!

vegas team au 2.0 my beloved !!! 

if you don’t know what the vegas team au 2.0 is, it’s an au that a couple of my twitter friends and i developed (notably, @stabbysideblog and @dreamsclock) as a post-canon version of sparrow’s vegas team au, which had c!dream, a post-revival c!wilbur, and c!quackity working together at las nevadas. 

this au exists much in the same vein, but exists post-canon (and therefore, post torture from c!quackity) and adds c!sam to the crew - it’s essentially four really, really messed up people screwing things up in las nevadas and being completely AWFUL to each other. it’s a very messed up group dynamic, 50% angst 50% crack 0% fluff or healing (...unless ;) ) and it’s absolutely one of my favorite aus at the moment. 

anyway, have this ficlet for the au i wrote a little bit ago that basically goes into how these four end up working together !! 

tw: implied torture, unhealthy relationships (SO many unhealthy relationships), manipulation, threats, emotional distress, mental instability

When Sam first sees the two figures standing on top of the roof of Las Nevadas, the first thing that comes to his mind is oh no, I have a bad feeling about this.

The feeling is far from foreign; a "bad feeling" has been his life for the past week ever since Dream and Wilbur had disappeared from Pandora's Vault seemingly without a trace. He's tried to keep the knowledge under wraps, only telling Bad and Ant to send them on a manhunt to find the prisoner (a lost cause if he's ever seen one; the two have hunted Dream before, and all of them know that there is no way they're finding the man if he doesn't want to be found) while he and Quackity plan for the coming storm. And there will be a coming storm, he's sure - he's heard enough of Dream's desperate, deranged plans of revenge voiced in near incoherent screams through bubbling lava to think that he will come out of the cell with anything close to mercy in his heart.

Unfortunately, there's been little to nothing from the pair of fugitives running around the server, his communicator chat still buzzing with Tommy's usual shouting and Puffy's usual invitations to tea and Technoblade's usual cryptic "technoblade" messages sporadically throughout the day. It's frustratingly, maddeningly normal, and each day of waiting for the other shoe to drop only leaves him even closer to snapping completely. In a twisted, bitter sort of way, he's almost relieved at the sight of the people standing on the polished quartz roof of the casino; at least now he'll finally get some answers.

Next to him, Quackity narrows his eyes. "Nobody should know about this place," he says, lips twisting into a tight frown.

Sam shrugs, shoulders heavy and tense under netherite. "Do you think-"

"-that it's our dynamic fuckin' duo? Yeah," he breathes out, short and quick through his teeth, and his wings stretch and flutter behind him, "I think it might be."

The figures become clearer as they step closer, silhouettes dark and thrown into harsh relief against the backlighting of the sun behind them. One of them is definitely wearing armor - netherite, from the looks of it - and both are very clearly armed. Wonderful.

The taller turns towards them, gestures with a wide sweep of their arm. "Big Q!"

Sam jumps at the voice; Quackity smiles humorlessly. "Wilbur."

Wilbur turns towards the other figure - Dream, for sure then - and they seem to talk, though they are far too far away for Sam to make out anything they say. Dream seems to hand something to Wilbur, and seconds later twin dots of bluish-green arc smoothly towards the ground in front of Sam's feet. He steps back, watching from the corner of his eye as Quackity does the same, and sure enough Wilbur, and then Dream, land on the grass where their enderpearls hit the ground.

"It's been a long time, Big Q, Sam," Wilbur smiles, tight-lipped, confident, tipping his head at each of them as he says their names. He's not wearing any armor save for a crossbow - enchanted - slung loosely over his hip and a netherite sword hanging off of his belt. "How have things been?"

"Cut the crap, Wilbur." The smile stays on Quackity's face, but his eye is dark and cold and dangerous. He's changed - of course he has, you can't do what he's done in Pandora without changing, but the sight of his expression still sends a disturbed shiver down Sam's spine. "You want something."

Wilbur, to his credit, doesn't seem fazed at all. "We've been doing pretty well - I think we've made quite some progress, considering how little time it's been since we've escaped that prison - nice build, by the way, Sam." His voice is lilting, almost sincere, and he looks over at Sam with a laughing light in his eyes like they're sharing an inside joke. "It's really quite impressive - what do you think, Dream?"

Dream doesn't seem to respond; he's all decked out again, netherite covering him from head to toe, the enchanted metal plates completely dwarfing the man hidden within them. His hands clutch at a golden apple, knuckles white against the golden skin, and a plain shield is strapped over his left arm as well a hulking enchanted axe on his back. They've been busy, it seems, and Sam's teeth grind against each other; he's not sure, if it comes down to it, that this is a fight that he and Quackity can win.

"Wilbur," Quackity repeats, impatience creeping into his tone, "What do you want?"

Wilbur smiles wider; it makes Sam uneasy, like Wilbur had been waiting for this, waiting for their desperation to send them at the devil's table with paper in one hand and a pen in the other.

"You're a businessman, aren't you, Big Q? You know how business deals work - so let's talk business. I think we can come up with something agreeable, what do you think?"

Quackity huffs a short laugh- "And what's stopping me and Sam from putting a sword through your gut?"

Wilbur smiles, sharp-edged. "Well, Big Q. Resurrection magic- it's quite interesting, really. Dream was explaining it to me, you know. And here's the thing; how many lives do you think I have right now?"

What- oh. "You have all of your lives back."

"Oh, no, Sam, I'm not saying that, exactly," Wilbur waves his hand flippantly, "I'm just saying you don't know, you know? And if I were to- say, have more than one life, and you were to kill me, well," he shrugs, a thoughtful look on his face. "We were smart enough to set our beds far away from the prison, of course. It would be an awful shame if people were to find out about what the perfect, responsible Warden was allowing in his inescapable prison, wouldn't it?"

No, no, no-

"So you're blackmailing us," Quackity's eyebrows are furrowed, jaw clenched tightly. Wilbur tips his head back and laughs.

"Oh, this isn't a threat, Big Q! Just a few- let's just call them hypotheticals." He begins to pace back and forth, gait smooth and unburdened, "I'm just saying that you two are powerful right now, you know? And it's great! I love this- what was it, Las Nevadas, you're calling it? It's great. It's absolutely magnificent. I'm just saying that you might want to be careful about what people end up finding out; you know people can be about power, on this server, and it would be such a shame to see this place burned to the ground."

Quackity's wings tense, and Sam can already see the younger's mouth opening and his fingers beginning to glow white with him reaching into his inventory, and oh prime if things escalate here then they're so, so screwed-

"Business!" He shouts louder than he wants, Quackity's head snapping towards him, lips still slightly parted from the words that he never got to say, and Sam ignores him to focus his attention on Wilbur, still staring at them with a smile playing on his lips. "You said you would be willing to talk business, right, Wilbur?"

"Yes, of course! Let's talk business. What do you think, Quackity?" Wilbur pauses, looks Quackity in the eye, and the younger glares but doesn't say anything. "Oh, don't worry too much, Big Q. I honestly think that it'll be good for all of us - a mutually beneficial arrangement, if you will."

"Wilbur, just," Sam sighs, fights against the incoming headache. "Can you please just get to the point?"

"Of course, Sam," Wilbur all but chirps, "So- we have something you want, and you have something we want. I say we pool our resources- our knowledge, Dream's combat prowess, your protection and items - and make something better."

"Pool our resources- wait wait wait, you mean you want to fuckin'-"

"I don't know how much Dream has told you, but I've been dead for a pretty long time; there really isn't all that much to do in the Void, you know. I've gotten pretty bloody good at cards, if I do say so myself." Wilbur grabs Dream, ignoring the way he flinches as he slings an arm around his shoulders, "What do you say? Have room in Las Nevadas for two more, Big Q?"

Sam blinks. Prime, give him strength. "What?"

Quackity hisses quietly, "You want to help with Las Nevadas? Both of you?" Sam watches as he turns his glare from Wilbur to Dream, and oh, so that's what this is about. He points his thumb jerkily in the direction of the masked man, watching, as Dream ducks his head down, unable to back away too far with Wilbur's arm still braced behind his neck. "And why should I work with him?"

"Two in one deal, Quackity, you have both of us or nothing at all," Wilbur drawls, "Besides, I know you've wanted the power of the resurrection book - and done quite a lot to get it! I'm really very impressed. Of course, we couldn't simply give it to you, but with us on your side, there's hardly even a difference." Quackity opens his mouth, looking like he's about to protest- "And, really, it would be nice to have Dream on your side in case the Blade comes for your other eye, no?"

His mouth shuts with an audible click, one-eyed glare meeting Wilbur's all-too easy expression, before finally nodding jerkily. "Fine. As long as he doesn't cause too much trouble."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Wilbur claps Dream on the back, and he curls into himself more, arms raising up to his head. "You've done more than enough to keep him obedient."

"We'll have to write out the terms later," Quackity presses on. "Don't want either of you trying anything. I've put so much fuckin' time into this place, I'm not letting you fuck it up, you hear?"

"Of course, Big Q," Wilbur's smile is jagged, all teeth, as he holds his arm out between them. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Quackity breathes in, out, looks over at Sam. There's a question written in the tight edge of his shoulders, in the way his wings are braced and held to his sides - are we sure about this?

Sam tips his head in a shallow nod. Do we really have a choice?

Quackity takes Wilbur's hand, shakes it. "Then welcome to the team."

Wilbur laughs, and it sounds like flames and explosions and the ground shaking beneath your feet, burns with the cold heat of smoke and ash - and Sam knows, with a bitter, searing certainty, that this is going to collapse around them in a blaze of glory, that they've all but signed their death warrants, have nothing left but to wait for the countdown timer to hit zero and blow this place up to kingdom come. Wilbur meets his eyes - dark, dead, grey like cinders and gunpowder - and he knows that the other man is thinking the same thing.

"I think this is the start to something beautiful," Wilbur says, and Sam grits his teeth as he steps into the building.

Something beautiful, indeed.