every chapter of deltarune has a secret npc who only appears if you leave and re-enter the room 1225 times while you have a bagel in your seventh inventory slot and the npc is a sentient doorknob and when you talk to them the music cuts out and theyâre like âwhoâs that whispering in the trees, itâs two sailors and theyâre on leave, pipes and chains and swinging hands, whoâs your daddy, yes i amâ and then within four hours thereâs a thirty minute long video on youtube titled âASGORE IS FRIEND??? DADDY THEORY EXPLAINEDâ and it already has 100,000 views and then a year later people call the next chapter disappointing because it was focusing too much on developing the main characters instead of explaining the doorknob guy
on the topic of disabled characters, though, i think a LOT of artists give characters mobility aids that their character wouldn't actually benefit from using.
i'm sort of having a mild brain fog moment rn so i can't fully articulate what i'm on about, but i think a lot of able-bodied artists view things like canes and crutches as interchangeable. and they often don't know enough about the wide range of mobility aids to make an informed decision about what their character might actually use based on their disability
i also think that aids like walkers and rollators are sort of viewed as "cringe" on some level, and many people view them to be "just for old people," so many artists will opt for giving a character who has full-body pain and fatigue a cane (which, in many cases, can potentially WORSEN full-body pain) instead. and a lot of people don't realize that most wheelchair users are able to walk, so they don't consider it an option for characters with chronic pain
idk it's kind of frustrating. i've genuinely never, ever seen a character that uses a rollator before. not once. i cannot name a single one. i know of multiple ocs who are described to have full-body pain, dizziness, and fatigue that are drawn as cane users and are never shown with wheelchairs or walkers, though
it's also sort of sad? i've been diagnosed since i was twelve years old, and i only heard of rollators LAST YEAR. and that was only because i saw one irl and immediately asked what it was. i wonder how many disabled people out there don't even know it's an option solely because they're completely underrepresented online and in media
if you're a creative with a disabled oc, PLEASEEE check out this link. it's a very nice and detailed guide for telling which mobility aids suit someone's needs best. it's incredibly important to make the right choice for your character! mobility aids tell you a LOT about someone's lived experience. picking the right one will communicate to your audience #1 what your character goes through #2 that you UNDERSTAND what your character goes through!
âAnd if youâll give me 40% of the MOST POPULAR VOTE, Iâll give you my SPECIAL REWARD... A yearâs supply of NON-GLOOBY SLIME!!! Never or BARELY used!!!â Tenna concluded his speech with a huge smile, jetting his hands up in double peace signs.
The crowd roared in confused enthusiasm as Tenna gave a gracious flurry of low-FPS bows, pausing only for the occasional stink-nose at his audience plants who werenât throwing enough 3D roses.
Eventually, the room fell silent. It was Senshiâs turn to speak.
He puffed out his chest, took a long, sweeping look over the audience⌠and shook his head.
âI can see not all of you are eating properly.â
The crowd murmured with embarrassment.
âI donât know who needs to hear this, but itâs time to take the turkey out of your icebox. I have seen the ingenious technology with which your people store food... and I have also seen the waste which results from such convenience.
âThe food you take had a life. Beasts grew fat on the grass of the field, plants grew from the sunâs rays, and mushrooms grew from minerals in the cracks of caves. And yet, it sits in your iceboxes, collecting moisture until it perishes.
âEat what is given to you. Because its life will make you stronger, too.â
Without another word, Senshi left his podium and stepped away from the stage. The crowd murmured in confusion. âIs he really like that?â somebody said. âI only remember reblogging the photosets of him tripping and showing ass.â
--
Back in the Green Room, Tenna wrung his antennas nervously.
âY-y-you think they liked me!? They HAD to!! I mean, I donât know what Asgore was thinking, getting that weird haircut and running that food waste campaign, but⌠YOU thought I did good, didnât you, Kris?â
Laios nodded aggressively, a streak of blue face paint peeling from his forehead.
âYou did AMAZING, Tenna! By the way, now that weâve seen all your insider campaign secrets, do you have any more videos of Susie? Especially her tail... If I could get a look at that, I could finally tell if sheâs a dinosaur or --â
THWACK. Fake antlers butted Laiosâs head.
âLAIOS?? Werenât we dressed up to help SENSHI???â Marcille hissed, gesturing awkwardly with her hooves.
Suddenly, Tenna turned to the two adventurers.
âHey, WAIT a second. SOMETHINGâs not right here...â
Laios and Marcille held their breath.
âWhere the heck are my POINTS!?â
Just then, the door opened. Chilchuck took one step into the room, whistling and holding a large bag.
Everyone turned to him.
Chilchuck paused, took a step backwards, and closed the door.
âCHILCHUCK!!!â yelled Tenna.
âHow come Chilchuck got to stay Chilchuck!?â yelled Marcille at the same time.
--
Meanwhile, in outer space somewhere, some guy was making out with a rock.
In a secluded corner of QCâs Diner, tucked far from the owner and any watchful waitstaff, two figures leaned over a table locked in silent warfare.
âPFFTââ Susieâs sharp grin stretched wide. âDude, is THIS all youâve got?â
Kris had never wanted muscles so badly in their life.
They slammed their free hand against the table and used it to brace their weight. Their other hand was currently being crushed inside Susieâs claws, the points digging into their skin hard enough to leave tiny indents that would linger long after they let go. They didnât care. This was war.
Their mouth curled into a small, twisted smile. âYour gripâs so tight,â Kris said, their voice barely above a murmur, strangely smooth... âAlmost like you donât want to let go. I might start getting the wrong idea.â
âThe hellâ!?â Startled, Susieâs grip clenched reflexively, and she jerked back a few inches from the table. The tips of her ears flushed a deeper purple. âUgh, shut up! This isnât a stupid flirting contest, Kris. Weâre in a DEATH match of flexing!â
âArm wrestling,â Kris corrected under their breath.
"WHATEVER! Just stop trying to mess with my head or Iâll bite your whole arm off, swear toâ uh..." Susieâs slitted pupils flicked to something over Krisâs shoulder. A slow, malicious gleam spread across her purple features. â...Isnât that your mom?â
Krisâs head snapped around.
The sound echoed in the diner.
The dinerâs window reflected a quiet street, gilded with late afternoon sun, with no sign of their mother. By the time the realization hit, it was far too late. Susieâs entire weight bore down. Kris felt their arm twist, a hot flash of protest from the shoulder, then the dull slam of their knuckles hitting the tabletop.
âGuess I saw wrong. Lots of hairy folks around here,â Susie said, the words landing with deliberate, teasing weight. âWhatever. Uh. Youâve got some real strong noodle arms, Kris.â
They pulled their hand back and rubbed the ache out of their wrist. Their expression hadnât changed, but their silence felt heavier than usual.
Susie leaned back on the seat, crossing her arms behind her head. âWhat? Gonna sulk now?"
Kris said nothing. They were already looking past her, toward the counter.
She kicked their shin lightly under the table. âHello? Uh... Man, what's your deal now? You really sulking? Say something.â
They didnât. Their gaze remained fixed.
Susie snorted. âFine. Sulk. See if Iââ
âHere you go, dears.â
The voice poured over them like warm milk.
The waitress set the items down. A hot chocolate, steam curling lazily upward, and a ham sandwich so large the plate bowed under its weight.
Susie shrank behind the comically oversized menu sheâd snatched from the condiment rack, her shoulders hunched, her claws leaving tiny perforations in the laminated paper. Banned. She was banned. Sheâd snuck in behind Kris because the nerd had fucking insisted, and Susie had never been one to back down from a poorly-thought-out plan. But if she got caught nowâ if the fish cop heard about thisâ
The waitress tilted her head. âWill your friend be having anything? She seems very interested in our menu.â
The question was genuinely innocent. Kris lifted their hot chocolate and took a slow sip. Susie cursed internally and squeezed the menu harder.
The laminated paper split down the middle with a crisp, sad rip.
All came to a halt.
Krisâs face betrayed nothing. The waitressâs smile remained pleasant, frozen in mild surprise. Susieâs soul briefly vacated her body.
âIâ uhhh, ugh, shit.â She dropped the ruined menu, scrambling to shove a claw into her jacket pocket. âSorry. I got money. I can pay for it. Itâs in one of my pockets, justâ just hold onââ
She yanked out a crumpled bill. In her panic, sheâd apparently grabbed it too fiercely; the paper tore cleanly in half. She thrust the larger fragment toward the waitress.
âHere! Take it!â
Kris took another sip.
The waitress blinked, then shook her head. âDonât worry! We keep plenty of spares. You never know what kind of monsters will come through.â She smoothed the front of her apron, gaze turning briefly reminiscent. âJust last week we had a gentleman in a suit, uh, ablaze. Very polite. Paid with coins that were still warm.â She gave a little nod. âEnjoy your meal~"
Once they were alone again, the air loosened.
Susie didnât move for a long moment. Then she dropped her shoulders and let her forehead thunk against the wood. âI wanna die."
Kris nudged the plate toward her.
She lifted her head an inch, eyeing it. A toothpick had been wedged into the sandwich, and she plucked it free. âWhat? Youâre not gonna eat it?â
Kris simply took another sip of chocolate.
Susieâs eyes narrowed. âWait a sec.â She pointed the toothpick at them like a tiny wooden accusation. âDo you even like ham? I don't think I've ever seen you eat anything that isn't... like, sweet? I guess? Not that I'm judgingâ" She paused, her eyes widening. "Hey. Did youâ uh, did you get this for me?â
Kris stared at her.
âDude.â Her voice came out rough, caught somewhere between flattery and suspicion. âThatâs⌠I mean, thanks or whatever, but you donât gotta be weird about it. Just, you know, say it next time."
They set their mug down and said nothing. The corners of their lips, however, curled upward and spoke for them.
She huffed and bit into the sandwich. Crumbs sprayed across her snout. She ate the toothpick and the napkin, too, a corner of it disappearing between her teeth before Kris could even think about gesturing toward it.
Through the window, the town lay still. The sun was beginning its slow descent, and the trees outside had turned that specific shade of gold that only existed in autumn afternoons.
tw rape/noncon. dainsleif has a thing for making you take it and praising you for doing so even if it's actually the only choice. yandere!dainsleif x f!reader drabble
âP-Please,â You plead, pathetically so as drool drips down the valley of your breasts. Dainsleif, however, does not seem to notice how humiliated you are â but if he does, he says not a word. Eternally would he be a constant â be it as your guardian, your knight or your captor.
And right now, one thing he has focused to be constant on is the way his fingers circle your sore, irritated clit. With every cry that comes from your lips, it seems he only quickens in retaliation.
âI know,â Dainsleif hushes you so easily â and, oh, how badly you wish to claw at his skin when he kisses at your throat with an ill sort of sympathy. âI know it hurts.â
He does not, you think, hissing when his legs over your spread ones prove too firm to kick off. It was a slow, terrible tortureâfor even one with a long life such as yourself. His cock, nestled unmovingly into you from underneath, nudges much, much deeper than it already is the more you squirm away from his fingers that rub on your battered clit.
âI can do this for as long as you make me.â The bastard reminds you, not only of his imperishable stamina, but also of the fact his life will never diminish. âOr... you can tell me what I want to hear and Iâll leave this,â A slap to your cunt that makes you cry out and try as you might to shift away as if youâd been cut; compelling the tip of his cock to press into what you swear is your womb, âalone.â
You despise him â with every fiber that makes your being.
...And yet, you grit your teeth and try once more anyway, if only to save your poor pearl from being ravaged from a man whoâs hunger knows no bounds because of grief.
âI...â Comes your whimper.
âI...?â He follows immediately â and his fingers slow on your clit as if to encourage your words. Still, his cock is too deep, and his fingers press too firm on your clit to grant you a proper reprieve. Your legs jerk at a jolt of heady pleasure. âYouâre almost there.â
The Twilight Sword has to be mocking you, you think.
âI... I lâlove...â You are interrupted with a shudder â and youâre not quite sure who it is from. It must be him, you think, with how his hand squeezes your hip and pushes you to his pelvis further, making his cock inside you more snug than is already is, and from you then, a strangled yelp coming forth. âI loveâ! fuckâplease, Dain.â
Your wetness drips down the very base of him, and it has been doing so for what feels like the eternity youâve spent having sat down on his lap. He is faring immensely better than you, even if his breaths, too, seem to fail.
âAlmost there.â Dainsleif thrusts up once, twice, until he is steadily grinding inside you once more, fucking deep into you that you feel him in your belly â and you gasp. It is not as motivating he must think it to be. âAll you have to do is tell me you love me, my heart.â
Then, as if it couldnât get any worse, the warm, thick head of him spears into somewhere where youâre not quite sure he can come out of, and your body lurches forward to get away. The very breath is knocked out of you when it only serves to give him more space in pressing closerâdeeper.
And his fingers on your poor, swollen, used pearl? Relentless as ever.
Even those who withstand time are sure to fall.
âAhâŚ! I l-l-love youâŚ!â You cry with breaking resolve. âI love y-you! D-Dain, IâI love y-you! P-PleaseâŚ! Enough!â
You feel it, the way Dainsleif locks up behind you then â one low groan beneath his breath as his thighs tense up beneath you. It is as if it takes him an immense amount of effort to stop thrusting into your slick hole and to cease the abuse on your clit.
As Dainsleif trembles, a wince is forced upon you when you feel a spurt of something unmistakable deep inside you. It is not his spend, no, his pre, rather. At the very least, his fingers had ceased circling, no?
âVery good,â he rasps out the praise, pulling his hand away from your clitoris and settling it upon your hips, squeezing the flesh there hard enough that you have half a mind to hiss at him... âS-See how better it is to listen, my heart?â
You learn soon that it is, in fact, not better to listen, because through sheer strength does he pull you up from the hips and drop you down on his pelvis â the head of his cock slamming against where it's been insistently pushed for the past hour. Something inhuman leaves your lips then as you hunch over â hands scrambling to brace against the floor beneath you as you twitch.
Is it your voice telling him that itâs too deep? It has to be. Not that he cares, you suppose, even with the deceit his lips upon the skin of your back when he follows after you.
âSweet girl, strong girl...â Dainsleif gasps, his lips ghosting over the crook of your neck, leaving behind a trail of his drool, âIâ fuck... I believe in you... I love you...â
It seems he does, you can tell that, at least, is sincere, with how his hands soon move from your hips to your shoulders to keep you pushed down on his merciless thrusts.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READâźď¸
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.
itâs so crazy having a follower base on tumblr knowing full well itâs not based on selfies or anything like people are here for your crazy twisted mind. i feel like nietzsche
everyone needs to get weirder, yes, but also get kinder. get more supportive. get more loving. be good to your fellow fans, especially the creatives who give you art and gifs and fics and fancams and and and. treat each other well because on tunglr dot hell, we are all neighbors. and neighbors look out for each other
proud victim of the tumblr accent. it's fading out of public consciousness as the tik tok accent takes precedence; a linguistic evolution that makes the tumblr accent 85% funnier to unsuspecting civilians. it's like releasing a disease on a non-inoculated population. coughing baby versus hydrogen bomb.
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