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#Among Us fic
maccreadysbaby · 11 months
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tagged by @perfectlypreservedpie to post a WIP wsaturday! i’m a few days late but still kicking, unfortunately
i’ve been spending time with my baby brother recently. i moved out and he’s had a hard time with it. we always wrote and came up with stories and lore together, so i asked him what he wanted me to write for him, and he said he wanted me to turn among us (yes, that game) into a full fledged murder mystery. so here i am. doing that. he came up with most of the characters and the lore behind among us being a societal game where criminals and trouble delinquents go after committing a severe crime, or several small ones. the nation watches it on screen like the hunger games, kinda.
yeah, so… here’s an excerpt from that. not my usual content, no, but it’s all I’m writing currently so… 🤷‍♀️
Finally, after a few quiet moments, Black inched into the room from the hallway, creeping in so quietly that Vera might’ve been the only one who noticed. He grabbed a chair from the opposite side of her table and spun it to face the center, taking a seat in complete silence. She said nothing. He said nothing.
Letting her eyes flick across the room again, the five in the middle were still talking. White still sat at the table to her left, helmet tight on his head, watching in complete silence. Red sat at the table across from him, playing with his gloved hands. Straight ahead of her and Black was the table that housed Yellow — who now had his head in his hands, fingers laced in his blonde mop, tugging at it. Every now and then his shoulders shuttered. She kinda felt bad for him. he seemed the most wrecked by the whole thing.
maybe he was the imposter?
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Rating: Mature
Archives Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death.
Summary:
The battle between mankind and the parasitic alien Impostors has raged on for nearly a century, and the only thing that stands between humanity and total destruction is the MIRA Corporation. Two years ago, MIRA's Impostor Research Department discovered a novel phenomenon know as "The Reluctant Impostor", in which an Impostor inexplicably develops a desire to protect, befriend, or coexist with humans rather than to maim, eat, or infect them. Recently, a team of five MIRA Crewmates, two researchers, two highly trained agents, and a clueless rookie have been assigned to an off-world MIRA base in order to study the behaviors of four carefully selected "Reluctant Impostors". It is highly likely none of the Crewmates will survive. The following are a compilation of reports, interviews, and journal entries from the research project MIRA lovingly refers to as it's "Boneyard Division". --- A revamp of my fic, "Tales From The Boneyard Division"
Hey guys! If you're into SCP inspired stories, eldritch alien horror with a conspiratorial twist, queer bands of mistfits, and some monster romance, I've just posted the first batch of chapters for the revamp of my Among Us fic, "Tales From The Boneyard Division"!
It'll be pretty slow to update since I have a pretty hectic schedule, but I'll try my best to be as frequent with updates as possible!
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schniggles · 1 year
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this one gave me a cackle so: "yellow: horny and mad about it" please!
[WIP Wednesday game]
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
(unfortunately we’re in unhorny tragic backstory territory. great buildup, though!)
under the cut!
“And if we run out, they might… source more,” Purple adds quietly.
Black’s lips curl away from her teeth. “Oh, son of a bitch, don’t say it like that.”
“Are we absolutely sure we can’t fabricate the results,” White asks fretfully.
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Remember this fic?
Well, I uploaded the second part:
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trippedandfell · 2 months
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stop the world just to stop the feeling
The night before Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Buck and Eddie talk on a balcony. | 1.5k | buddie | ao3
Eddie’s just uncapped his second beer when he hears footsteps behind him, so familiar he recognizes who it is by sound alone.
“Hey,” he says, as Buck sidles into view, arms coming to rest on the balcony railing beside him. He’s got a drink in his hand, too - one of those fruity vodka seltzers that Eddie’s reluctantly started stocking in the bottom drawer of his fridge. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Buck fiddles with the tab on his can, the silver of it reflecting in the moonlight. “Something like that.”
His shirt is slightly too big, slipping down just enough to expose the sharp jut of his collarbone, the dark bruise forming on the edge of it. Eddie’s eyes fly to it without permission, and Buck flushes red. 
“It’ll be covered by the suit tomorrow, promise.”
“Mm.” Eddie takes another sip of his beer, ignoring the sour way it curdles in his stomach. “Good. Think Chim’s one incident away from going full groomzilla.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Not at all,” Eddie admits, and Buck huffs a laugh. “You should have been me the night before Shannon and I got married. I was a wreck.”
He’d been alone, in the shitty little apartment they’d rented once they learned about Christopher, Shannon spending the night at her mom’s across town to help them cling to some ragged sense of propriety that neither of them truly believed in. It had been one of the most awful, stomachache-inducing nights he’d ever had up to that point in his life, and it wasn’t until he saw Shannon in the church the next day, glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the bump hidden under the folds of her white dress, that everything had finally clicked into place.
“Hi,” she had said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, and Eddie had let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Buck’s staring at him now, as if he can sense the myriad emotions playing out in Eddie’s head. “It’s so weird,” he says. “Maddie and Chimney have basically been married for a while now. But all of this just makes it feel so real.” He gestures a hand at the expansive hotel grounds, the ocean beyond. “I mean, my parents are here.”
Eddie knows. Eddie had done an exceptional job at ignoring them at the rehearsal dinner that night, tucked in the corner by himself, Marisol having gone to their room earlier with a headache.
He feels a brief, guilty flash about leaving her alone now, although she’d been snoring when he’d crept past Chris on the sofa bed and out into the light of the hallway. He wonders, idly, if he should have left a note.
“They seem to be behaving,” he offers, which is about all of the goodwill he’s able to give the Buckley parents at any given time. Buck makes a face at him, and he adds, half-teasing, “for now.”
As far as he knows, they haven’t said a word so far to Buck about Tommy. He should probably ask, but somehow he can’t make his mouth form the words.
Buck drums his fingers against the balcony, quiet. “Do you ever think about it?”
What, fighting your parents? Eddie almost jokes, but he knows that’s not what Buck’s asking. “About getting married again?”
“Or getting married at all,” Buck says, and there’s something in his face, something suspiciously like longing, that has Eddie taking another gulp of his beer. “Like, big reception, flowers. The whole nine yards.”
“I wouldn’t do a big reception,” Eddie says, shuddering. “Just in the backyard, or something.”
Buck cracks a smile. “You do have a nice backyard.”
“You’re just saying that because you did all the landscaping,” Eddie says, bumping their shoulders together. “I had to weed it the other day though, so I should at least get partial credit.”
Buck looks sheepish at that, which wasn’t what Eddie was going for, but also wasn’t not what he wanted to happen. “I meant to come do it this week, I’ve just been -”
“Busy,” Eddie finishes for him, which isn’t fair, not really. Not when Buck is still over at his house most days, not when he hasn’t missed a single one of his afternoons out with Christopher. It’s just that there’s now a new purple marker in his kitchen, carefully outlining Buck’s availability on the calendar.
Eddie’s never had to schedule Buck in before. Not with Taylor, or Natalia, or even Ali, way back when. 
Combine that with the fact that Buck’s now asking about marriage…
Eddie drains the last of his beer. “You should get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Buck agrees, but stays where he is, shoulder still pressed against Eddie’s. “Hey - uh. We’re good, right?”
“Buck, you’ve already apologized.” And grovelled, and apologized again, until Eddie was back from medical leave and working with the 118 again.
“Not about that.” Buck shakes his head, the movement bringing him closer to Eddie still, their forearms nearly overlapping on the railing. “I mean - about me. And Tommy, I guess.”
And Eddie - Eddie will be the first to admit it took him a second to come to terms with it, to fully wrap his head around the idea of Buck with a man and, more specifically, Buck with Tommy. But he’d hugged Buck, and stumbled his way through some approximation of support, and then gone home and researched until his eyes were burning and he’d bookmarked every tab he could find about bisexuality and being a good ally - so. He thinks he’s been doing okay, overall. Certainly not poorly enough to make Buck question if he’s been harbouring secret homophobic tendencies all this time.
“You know I’m good with that,” he says, and means it. “And you and Tommy seem - really good. So if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Buck’s eyebrows crinkle together, and Eddie has to resist the fanatical urge to reach over and smooth them out. “I know. I know you are. But something else just seems - wrong.”
“With me?”
“With us,” Buck says, voice veering toward frustration. “Come on, Eddie. You know you feel it too.”
Something thumps in Eddie’s chest, like his heart is suddenly trying to beat out of his chest. “Buck, I promise nothing’s changed-”
“But something has,” Buck says. “And I don’t know what, and it’s driving me insane, and every time I’m at work or at the gym or even with Tommy-” Wait, what? Eddie thinks, panicked -  “I’m lost in my own head, wondering how the fuck I managed to mess up the most important relationship in my life.”
“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Eddie says, honest. “No one did. It’s just - growing pains. You’re in a relationship, I’m in a relationship - it’s natural that we maybe don’t come first for each other anymore.”
Buck stares at him, the corner of his eyes suspiciously red. “We both know you don’t actually believe that.”
He doesn’t, but they’re veering into dangerous territory now. “Buck-”
“Why is it different now?” Buck says. “We’ve both dated people at the same time before. Taylor and Ana, Marisol and Natalia. Why is this different?”
Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s capable of breathing. “Buck-”
“It’s not because I’m with Tommy,” Buck says, raking a hand through his hair. “Or that I’m bi. It’s not actually any of it, is it, Eddie?”
He doesn’t sound angry, just - resigned. Tired. The beer bottle is clammy against Eddie’s palm. 
“You never answered my question earlier,” Buck says. “About if you would get married again.”
When Eddie speaks, his voice feels like sandpaper. “Maybe. If it was the right person.”
“Is Marisol the right person?”
“Is Tommy?”
Buck flinches, minuscule. “I asked first.”
“You know what my answer is, Buck,” Eddie says, and he’s tired, so tired. 
“You know mine too,” Buck says, soft.
He does know. Just like he knows Buck’s favourite song, favourite dinner, favourite feel-good rom-com. Just like he knows that Buck will spend all of tomorrow night dancing with Tommy, but he’ll save one dance for Christopher, spinning him around the middle of the room while Eddie watches. Just like how he knows -
“Eddie,” Buck says, and Eddie realizes how close they are now, facing each other with the moon still high overhead, lips a hairsbreadth apart. “We can’t.”
Eddie can feel Buck’s exhale against his lips. “I know,” he says. Taking a step back feels like swimming against a riptide, but he manages to get his limbs to cooperate eventually. “We should head back in.”
Buck swallows, chin bobbing as he nods. “Yeah. I’ll - uh. See you tomorrow?”
There’s something here, slipping out of Eddie’s grasp. He doesn’t think either of them knows quite how to cling on to it. 
“See you tomorrow,” he echoes, and then Buck’s turning toward the door, back to the hallway that’ll lead him to his room, to Tommy in his bed.
Eddie waits until he’s fully out of sight before he follows.
also on ao3!
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tags: @leothil @sibylsleaves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @deformed-globule @cantyouseethatyouresmotheringme @silassstingy
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fearandhatred · 5 months
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the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first
panel 8 of panel 2
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frownyalfred · 18 days
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Fic idea for anyone who’s looking for one: The Justice League went dark ten years ago. The only thing that remains is the Regime.
Batman (stripped of his cowl and suit) has been imprisoned on the Watchtower since the JL dissolved, forced to train the Regime’s younger superheroes. The leverage keeping him compliant? His own kids are part of the Regime’s program.
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anonymous-dentist · 9 months
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Or. The Among Us au.
-
Now, Cellbit thinks that there may be a problem when he wakes up one Tuesday morning to find tentacles bubbling out of his mouth. Because he’s reformed, see. He went to prison. He went to therapy. He did his time. He’s better now, and so, really, he should be human. He’s gotten very good at it.
But it’s also the morning after his arrival on the ISS Quesadilla, himself being one of five new crewmates sent by the Federation to explore the galaxy and look for… something. He doesn’t know what, exactly; he doesn’t have high enough clearance yet, and he never will if he doesn’t get his fucking tentacles-
On the bunk across from him, Mike groans and throws a lumpy pillow at him.
“Stop being an alien, God,” he groans. “Go back to sleep, our shift doesn’t start for another three hours.”
And, well. Cellbit can’t argue with that logic. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all. He’ll be back to looking like a human when he’s calmed down some.
Cellbit closes his eyes, lets out a long, artificial breath (aliens don’t need to breathe, after all), and he lets himself relax. It’ll be fine.
-
It isn’t fine. It’s five hours later and his tentacles are gone but his teeth have sharpened into four rows of fangs and it’s very hard to talk. Luckily, his helmet is covering up most of the nasty stuff. Luckily, almost everyone on his shift already knows he’s a secret alien except for Forever, and Forever seems smart enough not to snitch if he knows what’s good for him.
The problem is that Cellbit knows why he’s suddenly devolving. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because he was alone in the universe two days ago, and now his internal biology is registering the presence of another alien somewhere on the ship, and it’s horrifying.
Cellbit can’t concentrate like this. He keeps biting his lips when he tries to communicate with his team. The wires in the electrical panels aren’t making any sense all of a sudden. His hands are shaking too badly for him to be able to swipe his I.D. card. He explains it to his Federation supervisor as space sickness and Pac and Mike back him up, and he assures Cucurucho that he’ll be in working condition by the end of the week, he promises!
But then it’s lunch, and Cellbit is eating alone in his and Pac and Mike and Forever’s cabin because his mouth is a biological garbage disposal.
This sucks.
Cellbit picks at his food, unable to even digest it in the state he’s in. Aliens, unlike humans, can’t eat vegetables. They eat flesh. Any kind, but Cellbit grew up eating human flesh. But that was then, and this is now, and, now, Cellbit is looking at a tray of frozen space vegetables and he thinks he’s going to be sick.
Knock-knock!
Cellbit’s first, instinctual response is a hiss as he flinches. His jaw splits in half down the middle, fangs bared, but then he remembers, wait, humans don’t fucking do that.
So he forces his jaw shut with his hands and pulls on his helmet. Just in case.
“Hello?” he calls.
“Hola?” is what he gets in response, and his stomach clenches because this is a very human-sounding human. “You are Cellbit, right?”
Cellbit ponders. Then, “Yes. Why?”
“Okay, yes! So Cucurucho sent me to bring you to medical-”
Oh, God. A scan is the last thing that Cellbit needs right now.
So Cellbit immediately interjects. “No, no! I’m fine! I told them I’m fine!”
“Oh, you’re fine,” the human sarcastically says. “You’re wearing a helmet, culero, I can hear it from out here. Come on, man, the faster you do this, the faster it is over with.”
Well. He does have a point. Besides, Cellbit has fudged his way through plenty of scans before. This one will just be a little more difficult, that’s all.
Cellbit puts his lunch aside and he opens the door and he stops pretending to breathe. The other crewmate is also wearing a helmet, but, through it, Cellbit can see the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy.
Said eyes crinkle up in a smile as Cellbit steps outside into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The helmet’s visor only allows access to the eyes, but Cellbit has a feeling that this man’s face is just as captivating.
“Great!” the human cheerily says. “You don’t look dead, at least!”
He laughs, and Cellbit finds himself laughing along with him. It’s catchy. This is fine.
“Come on, you’re new, right?” the human asks. He turns around and starts down the hallway to the left towards… medical? “I’ll show you the way.”
Cellbit swallows a tentacly lump in his throat and follows, two exact steps behind.
“It’s always good to get new people,” the human says. “We lose a lot of crewmates.”
“I’ve heard,” Cellbit politely says. He bites his lip again and winces. Attempt seventeen of trying to will his teeth into their human forms, go!
It’s true, though. The Quesadilla goes through more crew members than any other ship in the Federation’s fleet. It’s probably why nobody in Cellbit’s group had actually been interviewed before they were hired. Amateurs…
“It’s crazy, man. They’re dropping like flies!” the human exclaims, hands gesturing wildly.
He turns his head back to look at Cellbit, crinkled eyes glittering.
“Good luck,” he says.
Cellbit smiles back. Thank goodness for his helmet, because he can feel his jaw begin to split apart again.
“Thank you,” he weakly says. At least his vocal cords are working… and at least he doesn’t actually need his mouth to speak. “Maybe we’ll even get to work together in the future.”
He hopes so. He hopes that he can find this other alien and try to work with them to get themselves (because he knows that the other alien has to be having the same problem as him right now) together. Then Cellbit can actually do his job, and then he might even get a promotion. One step closer to his goals, and one step closer to-
The human clicks his tongue. “Now, now, don’t you know who you’re talking to?”
He taps at a badge on his chest with a gloved finger.
“‘Roier’,” Cellbit reads.
“Uh-huh. I’m Cucurucho’s favorite.”
“I didn’t know that they could have favorites.”
The human- Roier- sniffs haughtily. “Yes, and I am one.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t ever work together,” Cellbit says.
He dares step closer until he and Roier are next to each other. They’re about the same height, he notices, though he can tell even through the bulky spacesuit that Roier is far more built than Cellbit has been since he was a teenager.
“I don’t know,” Roier replies, shrugging. “Maybe. Who knows? Cucurucho is picky, you know?”
Cellbit remembers the disdainful look send in his direction when he had failed his first card swipe. Yeah, he knows.
The conversation slows to a comfortable silence, mostly because Cellbit is tired of almost biting his own face off.
And then they’re at Medical.
Cellbit pauses outside the door. Roier rolls his eyes and yanks him in, announcing their presence with a loud, “Ay, Missa!”
The medical staff on shift, a tall human in a black spacesuit with his helmet off, screeches and tumbles out of his chair.
Cellbit bites back a laugh. Roier doesn’t bother even trying to stay professional. He even walks over to Missa’s crumpled form and kicks him lightly in the side.
“Roier…” Missa complains.
“Do your job, pendejo, Cucurucho sent us.”
At the mention of Cucurucho, Missa scrambles to his feet, pale. He picks up a clipboard off of his desk and moves to close and lock the door.
Cellbit shuffles awkwardly to the side. Okay, deep breaths…
“Space sickness,” Roier explains.
“But I’m fine, really,” Cellbit tries.
Missa shuts him down with a firm shake of the head.
“Strip,” he says.
And then he flushes a bright red and stammers, “I- I mean your suit! You can hang it in a locker!”
Clearly embarrassed, he points toward a line of lockers against the far wall.
Cellbit gulps. But he… strips, gloves first and then his suit. Last, his helmet, which really should’ve been done first, but…
Luckily, his face is mostly under control again. He doesn’t feel too inhuman as he adjusts his hair in the reflection of a nearby data screen. He may be about to receive a death sentence, but he can at least look good doing it.
He turns around and faces the scanner, blushing just ever so slightly as he hears Roier gasp to himself. If he was human, he wouldn’t have heard it, it’s so quiet. And so, since he’s supposed to be human, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Just step on up, and we’ll get you done,” Missa says. He smiles, trying.
Cellbit offers a closed-mouth smile back, not trusting himself to show teeth.
He steps onto the scanner and closes his eyes, desperately hoping that it comes up as human as the ones back on Earth did-
“Oh, shit,” he hears Missa say. “It isn’t- oh, shit!”
Of course.
“What is it?” Roier demands. “Tell me!”
“I need to call Cucurucho, Roier, call Cucuruch-”
He coughs and slumps to the floor and slides off of Cellbit’s sharpened tentacle before Cellbit even realizes that he had transformed.
Oh, fuck.
Panicked, Cellbit recalls his tentacle and flinches at the taste of blood, delicious and disgustingly familiar, and his eyes open instinctively but he can’t see, it’s all just a blur, and he backs off of the scanner and-
“Hey! Cellbit! It’s fine, okay?” he hears Roier say. His voice is distant, like a dream. But Cellbit latches onto it, anyway.
Two heavy hands settle on his shoulders. Cellbit hisses, eyes narrowing and jaw splitting and fangs emerging, but then-
“Calma,” Roier gently says. “Hold on. Let me show you something.”
Cellbit can’t move. Roier is letting go of him and reaching for his own helmet, still unremoved. And then he removes it, and Cellbit is so shocked that he can’t keep his tentacles from falling out of his mouth again.
Roier is beautiful. High cheekbones, freckles, smiling eyes, soft hair, and fangs the size of toothpicks forcing his mouth ajar.
“See?” Roier asks, and that’s when Cellbit realizes that he isn’t talking in any human language anymore. This is their language, one Cellbit thought he was the last living speaker of. “It’s fine, okay?”
He smiles, and it’s terrifying in its beauty.
Cellbit manages to suck his tentacles back up, and then he smiles back.
“I thought I was alone,” he says.
“How do you think I felt, huh? What are you doing here!”
Roier lightly punches Cellbit’s shoulder.
There aren’t any security cameras in the Quesadilla, Cellbit had made sure if that before signing up for the trip. And if he can’t trust another alien, then what’s the point of this biological homing device? Aliens stick together, that’s how it always has been. Well. Had. (It’s a little hard to stick together when you’re all dead.)
So he doesn’t hesitate at all before saying, “My best friend is on board this ship. He was kidnapped.”
Roier’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! Is he-”
“He’s human.”
“Oh.”
It’s just the two of them.
“Okay,” Roier says. “So now there’s two of us.”
“Yes. And it’s a little inconvenient having to deal with the, uh…”
Cellbit glances towards Roier’s fangs. Are they sharper than his? God.
Roier shrugs. “Eh, it’ll be fine. We just keep our helmets on until our bodies decide to calm down.”
Well, he isn’t at all concerned. He should be. He absolutely should be. But… there have been a lot of disappearances on the ship.
Roier, it seems, is very good at playing human.
Cellbit lets out an excited, nervous breath. He glances at Missa’s corpse, surprise and fear still written on his face.
“We need to report this,” Cellbit says.
Roier raises an eyebrow. “Por qué? Why? He is dead.”
“Yes, and it’ll look worse if we don’t tell anyone.”
This, Cellbit is more than used to. He may be reformed, but he had a very long time to hone his craft.
Slowly calming down, Cellbit goes to start pulling his suit back on. He even manages to get his fangs to shift. Okay.
“Okay,” Roier agrees. “If anybody asks, we were coming in here for sex.”
Cellbit’s face splits open in shock.
Roier cackles, and Cellbit can only wonder if this is truly what fate has brought to him.
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taxi-boi · 2 years
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i see alot of "tango joins empires smp" aus where he joins tumble town as a bandit or another cowboy or ""rancher"" but you are ALL wrong. you all missing out okay.
tango's ALREADY been to space. hes a spaceman. hes already got the minecraft skin
tangotek crashlands into empires. the buzz lightyear to jimmys woody.
im right and i better see all of you making it happen hold on i need to draw this
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do you see it? do you see my vision?
bonus family photo
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vasilissadragomir · 4 months
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Everlark Fic Drop: Us Among the Living
hi y'all! it's been a longgg time coming but i'm so excited to share my first fic in over 10 years (and my first thg fic ever)!
Us Among the Living is a canon-compliant, pre-epilogue growing together fic exploring Katniss and Peeta's relationship as well as their lives in District 12 in the months following the second rebellion. it's gonna be long, it's gonna be a slow burn, and according to @everdares and @belikov, it's gonna cause tears.
i plan to update every friday, and i've already written the first several chapters. i hope y'all enjoy <3
17 chapters out now posted on a03!
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confused-kinnie · 5 months
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I forgot I had this in my drafts
Two Pinks
One braincell
No filter
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Artistic rendition of the first convo @amonggtheestarss and I had
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teecupangel · 11 months
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Desmond dies, ends up in the past but becomes a crewmate from among us! Just thinking of space bean! Desmond hiding in the assassin's hood gives me life (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍)..... orrr he's secretly an imposter who doesn't know he's one who then stabbed a templar because he felt like it
I kinda wanna draw Desmond doing an Assassination as an amongus but I didn't have any more time left for today sooooo...
Have this amongus!Desmond with a mini-amongus!Altaïr.
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The idea is that the mini-amongus will keep following Desmond and would keep changing into any of his ancestors as 'it' has taken Desmond's Bleeding Effect so Desmond is 100% sane.
Only...
He's technically an imposter as he's not from the Among Us universe and can kill anyone using his hidden blade that just appears out of nowhere.
The Among Us crew members are all employees of Abstergo, the ship is meant to colonize a peaceful planet and Desmond is venting and killing to save an innocent civilization from the incoming missionaries of colonization and capitalism.
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blackhairedjjun · 14 days
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i am begging people on this site, especially new kpop fic writers, to use tags properly. only put tags that are relevant to your post.
i am SO TIRED of the tags i follow being clogged with unrelated shit because someone thinks it's a good idea to spam tag their posts with everything kpop-related even if it isn't remotely related to what the post is about. all it does is make the tag page useless! you are making it harder for people to look for what they actually want to see!!
IF YOUR FIC DOESN'T ACTUALLY CONTAIN SMUT, DON'T TAG IT AS SMUT. i am SICK of people tagging their sfw fluff or angst fics or even fics that are only a tiny bit suggestive with smut because they think it will give it more reach. you know what that does? it means that people who have smut tags blacklisted CAN'T TRUST THEIR BLACKLIST AT ALL. how the hell am i supposed to know if my blacklist is working properly if people keep tagging their sfw fics as smut? and i can deal with it fine bc i'm an adult anyway, but what about minors who are repeatedly told not to interact with smut posts? and then you hide all the sfw posts in the smut tags anyway so minors can't even reliably tell what they should and shouldn't interact with.
stop hijacking the tumblr tag system to treat it like an algorithm, it's a tool for navigation and filtering. the more you misuse it the worse you make it for everyone on this site.
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kaeyapilled · 9 months
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What are some fics that you think are must reads for kaeya fans?
TEEHEE okay i think i have rec'd most of these before when i was asked for fic recs some time ago but its ok. here are the most kaeya fics ever in my opinion !
clouds in a lake by VelleRue
“Pot of butter,” Kaeya mumbles beneath his breath, eyes roving over the words. Alone, the words wouldn’t be very special. The shapes and sounds don’t scare him as much anymore, not like they did when he was new and wore shoes with torn soles and only knew how to say, My father told me he was going to buy grape juice.
Together though, they sound like the orange-yellow light of the oil lamp flickering in the corner. They sound like sticky fingers and bread rolls. Like a dinner table of three.
Cake and a pot of butter.
this one is so bittersweet and melancholic and i love all the headcanons in it and the way it's written oughhh it's a great read!! short but really good
stubborn roots by alexithymias
Kaeya’s plan to end his life is interrupted when Rosaria asks him to take care of a plant for a few days.
this one is heavier so definitely pay attention to the tags but, oh my god. this rewired my brain SO violently. i adore the concept and the characterization is really on point. it is so painful in all the good ways i like stories to be painful. i really recommend it!!
I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta
A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.
im pretty sure ive rec'd this before but this is like, one of my favorite portrayals of kaeya and his bio father ever. its just so good. so delightfully sad. a breath of fresh air from the common headcanon that his father was an evil asshole. the kaeya & crepus bits are also really good and i like the author's hcs about khaenri'ah/the abyss SO much
not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery
Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive. Kaeya Alberich, not yet Ragnvindr, knew how to fear before he knew how to talk. As the heir to the regency of a dead kingdom, a spy-in-training to be sent to the surface world, as the last hope of Khaenri’ah – there were many things to fear. And later, as the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt and a traitor no matter what he chose, Kaeya Alberich ex-Ragnvindr knew that as long as he lived, he would be afraid.
i have definitely rec'd this one before. but i just really love it!!! my comment on the bookmark says "literally the best kaeya character study i have ever read" and yeah that still holds up. shaped a lot of my kaeya hcs. i love this author
Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice
The first time the thought occurs to Kaeya he is eleven years old. Well, that’s not exactly true. It had been twisting in the back of his head for a long time, already. Formless and unspoken, an ever-present awareness, a whisper. But the first time it rings in his head, put in words, bright and shiny and just behind his eyes—
He is eleven. *** A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand. (Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)
OH I MUST HAVE REC'D THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BUT THIS IS REALLY A MUST READ. first of all heed the tags because it touches quite heavy topics! but this entire concept is SO interesting to be explored in kaeya's character and this author does it SO well..... this is one of my favorite fics, like, ever, lmao. absolute kaeya must read To Me
Lamellae by scripturient
A slowish movement in a discordant key, wherein Kaeya has bitten off rather more than he can chew and needs significant help; meanwhile, malady exposes buried memory and dread. A limited plot from a limited point of view which dabbles in themes of pain, trust, angst, conflict, and betrayal. Not quite a character study.
the writing style in this one is SO cool, i love it! non-linear narratives are my thing, i never get tired of it. and the whump in this is so good.. i like whump fanfiction, lol. the combination of characters in this is really fun as well, though everything is told from kaeya's very disoriented point of view. anyway, amazing exploration of his character!! the next work in this series, The thaw that comes in springtime (plus the next next work!), is also really good and i loved it, particularly the ragbros bit lol. another must read!
undertow / oversight by MercuryPoisoning
In which Kaeya gets by with a little help from his friends.
another one i feel ive rec'd before, but i love it. really good characterization!! especially his relationship with diluc!!! really good read. i love this author's stuff a lot lol. (bonus by the same author, and another one i consider a must-read even though it's still in progress and also way heavier than most of the previous recs: sleeping marble lion! i really like the writing style and the concept!!! pay attention to the tags but trust me it's a delightfully gut wrenching one<3)
whew. i think i have a few more i could have added here. i just went through my bookmarks lol i have read a decent amount of kaeya fanfiction. hope these are to your liking!!! fic rec'ing is one of my favorite activities
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amazeingartist · 9 months
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I’m doing a silly (crackfic snippet)
among us crossover but I’m having way to much fun with it (no warning needed, just ghost threatening soap a little bit)
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ignore any potential mistakes, still a wip lmao also this exists because I wanted to ease back into writing (the small bits of venom au I’ve been doing don’t count) with something that required not too much brain power
I then remembered I wrote this idea down forever ago for shits and gigs and figured why not lmao
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frownyalfred · 7 months
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“I forgot how good it felt to be held by you” is another peak potential Injustice Superbat line. Bruce and Clark somehow embracing in the midst of all the fighting, a hidden moment where they can stop pretending for just a handful of seconds.
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