#//Still no shadow because I don't know how to do it

[wisteriagoesvroom]

waittttttt your brain is so bodacious vampire frando sounds so interesting

if you’re comfortable/want to, tell me more ? 👀

ok i rly was supposed get some stuff done before fp1 later, but since you are ENCOURAGING me...

NORPINTO-FRANDO VAMPIRE AU

lando has been a vampire for like. a relatively long time by human standards. make of that what you will

he lives in an apartment, what we do in the shadows style, with... carlos and oscar

lando generally tries to be really clean with his feeding and take only enough blood out, so that the folks he bites wake up with a headache and minor anaemia

however. he drags unsuspecting graduate student franco into an alley and bites him, but gets distracted because franco TALKS the whole time.

turns out franco is like. a literature student who has always had an overactive imagination. he quickly puts the dots together and is like "OH, MY GOD, ARE YOU... A VAMPIRE" before lando is like "shush this won't take long if you stay still" and sinks his fangs into franco

franco yaps at length about how "at home in argentina there are witches and el familiar, in fact the idea of good and bad is very fluid in argentina and there is intercreature harmony, and oh! do you maybe know some of the witch clans from catamarca or salta?" and lando is like "??? how do you know all this ???" but by then he also realises his teeth have been in franco's neck for way too long, and oh shit franco is passing out and ahhhh---

franco is accidentally turned 🧛

lando is like "CRAP what do i do with this baby vampire wth ???" and he fireman carries him back to the house to try and figure it out. he spends half the time googling how to un-turn a vampire because oscar told him that like, google can tell you lots of stuff now

blablabla franco cannot be un-turned, so the rest of the fic is probably lando teaching franco how to do Vampire Things.

except franco just TALKS the whole time through EVERYTHING, including: how to feed, how to fly, how to stay out of trouble with the supernatural creatures international tribunal etcetc.

franco asks a lot of questions like "is it true you hate garlic" to lando and oscar is like "no he just hates fish, that's different".

carlos is like "i didn't know ur new sire speaks SPANISH" and then he actually gets rly excited to have a yapyap friend too

at some point oscar gets sick and tired of people not doing the dishes when they're supposed to in the house, so he turns into a bat and flies off in a huff

anyway idk how it ends but franco enjoys being a vampire somehow and they have a little vampire coven and lando gifts franco a little onyx hellhound figure to remind him of home

franco definitely asks lando "can i fly to argentina faster now" and lando is like. "no. you definitely need a rest stop somewhere further north like... mexico or smth, pls don't attempt that, also we have heavy regulations now because of the huge volume of air traffic in the sky so, pls just take a plane. here have the keys to my jet and tell them the code is ln4, they'll take you anywhere."

franco: YOU HAVE A PRIVATE JET WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO? WHY DO WE LIVE IN SUCH A DUMP?

lando, carlos, oscar (altogether): oi/hey/excuse me mate this is our dump 😠

edited to add: a carcar moment, and part 2

[uglygirltrying]

summary - enemy!ghost x enemy!reader - both have been separated from their teams. in the middle of desperation, and a snow blizzard, ghost makes the (stupid) choice of helping the enemy.

you kept falling in and out of consciousness, your eyes fluttering open for a moment, and then closing again the next. cold snow surrounded you, as you laid limp on the ground, heavy blizzard blowing down on you and wind hitting your face. the adrenaline started to slowly wear off, and you could to feel the bruises all around your body from the explosion. suddenly, you perked up. footsteps, coming from your three, snow crunching under the heavy steps of whoever was coming towards you. your breath came our desperate and slow. your eyes fluttered open once more. but this time, even through your hazy sight, and the blizzard around you, you could make out a shadow standing above you. your breath hitches, but you couldn't find the strength to keep your eyes open any longer. you went under again. how convenient.

your head throbbed violently, pain radiating around your body. crackling of fire filled your ears. it's warm. hot even, compared to how you were, in your mind, just a moment ago. slowly, and with great effort, you managed to open your eyes. you're in a cabin. not a fancy one unfortunately, a rotten, and dust filled one. but at least you're out of the snow.

"stay calm." ghost didn't want to spook you, but he wanted you to know about his presence. even if it came at the price of your tiny frame tensing up and looking around franticly. finally you found him, your brows furrowed, and your eyes wide, in fear. ghost sighed. he just had to make his life even harder. but he couldn't resist a pretty woman. even less, a pretty damsel in distress. even if she's supposed to be the enemy.

"yer lucky you didn't need stiches. wrapped you up bloody good tho." ghost murmured, standing up from his spot, and making his way closer. he kneeled down beside your form, snug in his sleeping bag. your wide eyes followed his movements, obviously wary of him, the enemy.

ghost ignored your stare, knowing that you're still far too weak to attack him, even if you wanted to. ghost ripped open a mre packet, and began to feed you crackers. embarrassment flooded your mind, being hand-fed by a intimidating enemy soldier. the brit chuckled at the blush decorating your soft cheeks. eventually, he tossed the mre packed aside.

"you gonna let me in, luv?" ghost sighed, pulling down the sleeping bag's zipper. you couldn't keep in the whimper as he slowly moved you. "i know, luv, i'm sorry..." ghost murmured, gently moving you, until he fit next to you in the sleeping bag. his big arms wrapped around your small form.

"you gonna kill me in my sleep?" ghost chuckled, his fingers running up and down, on the bare skin of your arm. your head shook meekly.

"no?"

"bet yer afraid of what i might do..." ghost darkly chuckled in your ear, and nuzzled against your soft cheek. ghost basked in the feeling, when you kept quiet without an answer.

"don't ya worry, luv... i'll make sure we'll be alright..." he told you. his arms were wrapped around you, the fire and his body kept you warm, your wounds were taken care off, and your stomach was full.

maybe you'll be alright.

tried to write in another style. first person pov makes me kinda uncomfortable because i don't like to force the reader to accept one thing without alternatives idk ifykyk 😭that's why she doesn't say anything, sorry if this is crap, im just yapping

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your fourth life (2).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna who doesn’t know how to care for you, watches with clenched fists as you stumble, frustration simmering beneath his cold exterior.

“damn it.” sukuna mutters under his breath, hating the helplessness he feels but unable to look away.

immortal sukuna who despite his inexperience, can’t help but fuss over you.

“you’re doing it wrong, little bird.” sukuna growls, but his grip on your arm is careful, his touch lingering longer than it should.

"i-i'm sorry." you whisper back to him, the guilt in your voice prevalent. sukuna felt the throbbing pain in his eyes, looking at you. he didn't want you to feel this way. not ever.

“just... let me help you.” sukuna says, though his tone is sharper than intended. he never wants you to be aggrieved by his frustration. because it wasn't you. it was him.

immortal sukuna doesn't know what to do. he doesn't know how to take care of you in this way. and he was angry at himself.

immortal sukuna truly only wants nothing more than to ease your life, feels a rare pang of helplessness every time you hesitate.

“you don’t need to ask me, little bird." sukuna whispers, quieter now, as he walks beside you, a silent guardian, fiercely protective even when you can’t see him.

“but i...” you whisper back, your voice echoing a tone of guilt.

sukuna shakes his head, his lips pursed in a flat line. “it doesn’t matter. i... i want to care for you. so, don't worry, little bird."

your lips pursed into a line. "alright."

immortal sukuna who understands the fragility of your human form, spends sleepless nights imagining how to show you the world through his eyes.

“if you could see what i do… you’d know why i want to protect you." sukuna murmurs in the dark, his voice soft and uncharacteristically tender. “the world is cruel, little bird.”

“but you aren’t." your sweet voice echoes as the wind rustles through the flower-laden field. “you’re kind.”

immortal sukuna can feel his heart shatter. “i was never kind, little bird. if i was… why would i be cursed like this?” his voice trembles with the weight of unspoken pain, the question hanging heavily in the air.

you step closer, tilting your head as if trying to see sukuna through the shadows. “but you are kind to me. you guide me when i stumble. you stay by my side. that’s kindness.”

a flicker of uncertainty passes through sukuna, and he shakes his head. “you see what you want to see.”

“but i see you, even if my eyes cannot.” you insist gently. “you protect me because you care. isn’t that kindness?”

immortal sukuna cannot help but let out a soft, incredulous laugh, a sound so foreign to him. “perhaps… but i’m still a monster.”

you reach out, fingers brushing against his arm. “even monsters can have soft hearts. just look at how you’re here, with me.”

the weight of your words sinks in, and for a moment, sukuna’s icy facade cracks, revealing the warmth beneath. “you really believe that, little bird?” he asks, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

“with all my heart.” you reply, your smile brightening the dimness around you. “you’ve shown me more beauty than i could ever imagine. just let yourself be the one who cares.”

in that moment, as the flowers sway gently in the breeze, immortal sukuna feels the impossible stir within him—a glimmer of hope, a touch of warmth he never thought he could possess.

“maybe… just maybe, little bird.” sukuna tenderly whispers back to you. “i can learn to be kind.”

immortal sukuna watches as you close your eyes, tilting your head to feel the warmth of the sun on your face, a smile blooming despite your blindness.

“can you smell the flowers?” you ask, inhaling deeply. “it’s like spring has come just for us.”

sukuna nods, though you can’t see him, the corners of his lips curling up. “yes, but you make it brighter. you always do... little bird.”

you turn towards sukuna's voice, as if trying to catch a glimpse of him with your other senses. “do you think the flowers know how beautiful they are?” you muse. “or do they just bloom without knowing?”

“maybe they know, little bird.” sukuna replies, his voice softer than usual. “just like you. you bring light to places I never knew existed.”

you laugh lightly, a sound that dances through the air like music. “you’re sweet when you want to be, you know. just admit it—you enjoy this little world we’ve created. well, it was mostly you. i was just....helping you out.”

sukuna hesitates, then concedes, “perhaps i do. it’s… nice to feel something beyond my curse.”

your hand finds sukuna's own, fingers intertwining effortlessly. “then let’s create more moments like this. you can help me experience the world, even if i can’t see it.”

immortal sukuna squeezes your hand gently, the warmth of your touch igniting something deep within him. “i’ll always be here to guide you, little bird. wherever you want to go, i'll bring you there.”

you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper. “and i’ll find you in every flower, every breeze, and every moment we share. even if i just hear it or smell it. because you, sukuna, are my world.”

immortal sukuna feels his heart racing, and for the first time in eternity, he feels something other than the weight of his past.

immortal sukuna finds lightness, a sweet tenderness that makes him want to protect you fiercely, not just from the world, but from the shadows lurking within himself.

“then let’s make this world beautiful together, little bird.” sukuna murmurs, a vow laced with warmth, a promise of kindness that echoes softly in the field of blooming flowers.

you smile at him with everything in you. “together!”

immortal sukuna smiles the happiest because of you.

“together.” sukuna agrees, taking your hand and kissing your ring finger, as though a promise, as though a vow.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

So... SKs...

I need to talk about my positioning on the Zenix/Vylad/Malik Death thing too because i may have changed that opinion a teeny bit with a tiny bit of speculation... but i digress. that'll be another post, i'm just warning you that the yap travelling circus is coming to your city

anyways

SKs!

tw, this is discussions about SKs, and so will be talking about themes involving death, torture, and manipulation.

Lore about Sks really becomes defined after Laur becomes one, because he's a major character and it really makes sense that way, but we do get a lot of lore even before he becomes a recurring character, really. Especially through Zenix and the storylines adjacent to him. I really do think that Sk lore was peaking when Zenix was one of the major antagonists for the series, because it was just very interesting to have to explore that he was experiencing it away from the main storyline, and Aphmau would have to make an active effort to understand and build that knowledge, and even as she is starting to know more she is still kind of in denial that he is capable of the things he is doing.

And this becomes especially interesting that she is learning this through other people, when we compare it to what Zenix himself says about being a Shadow knight.

SKs have been around since episode one, maybe not in the way they were later developed to be, but the idea of this little band of antagonists that follow 'The King' and want lords dead, and are stunting villages, and we don't really know why except for monarchism. And as we build upon our knowledge over the episodes we find out they don't live in an active monarchy, but that the King is some supernatural force, and that the little band of villains are too, and they're trying to bring him back.

And then we get, in episode 31/32, that not all SKs are guards, and they don't only kill lords. Of course, the baker is only a knight in training, but the idea remains. The following of the King is ideological, they don't only recruit guards off of some need for the bond between lords and guards, they will recruit whoever is willing to do what they want, kill who needs to be killed.

In fact, the first time we ever really get the guard/lord talk in regards to Shadowknights is in episode 35, by Zenix. Zenix seems to have this idea that Guards and Lords are intrinsically connected, that the life of one is dependant of the death of the other, and there is always this idea that guards are expendable and so they are the ones to die and the lords live. However, if the guards kill the lords instead, they become the King's loyal servants, blessed with power, with immortality.

He cannot be killed like when he was human.

This is the origin of the idea that Sks are not only immortal, but have to kill the one they love most to transform into that immortal state. And it's not exactly what he's saying. He's saying that guards are always expected to die for their lords, but then the King tells them 'hey you kill your lord, i'll let you live forever' and then they're like 'oh neat' and kill their lords to gain that immortality and power.

I understand how this little rant of his later turned into that lore, but i think the implications here are much more interesting. Again, he says 'No one can touch me! No one can kill me like when i was human' and whilst you can take that to mean that he is no longer mortal, it also kind of reads like he has been killed or at least severely harmed before before... which has been implied by Azura earlier on, and sort of himself in the same conversation, where he says 'Garroth told you... didn't he? How he found me?' 'I wasn't in such good shape then either.' What this all overall implies upon SK lore is that the King preys upon victims to find followers, he takes those who have been victimised before, and he offers them the chance to not have to suffer that way again, they just have to do as he tells them to.

It's not some urge they cannot shake off, it's not this feeling deep inside of them that they cannot remove. They have been hurt they have been offered to not have to never be hurt again. It's a choice, through and through, but in the same way it isn't. It's not this primal hunger for blood, so much as a scrabbling for survival, it's fear, and desperation, it's a needing to not suffer through that trauma again and so they say yes. They say yes, because they will do these awful things because it's better to do bad to others than them do bad to you.

Later lore has them do these things because Shad has taken their bodies, and brought them back, changed their memories and given them the urge and the want to kill. He preys on victims because he can only turn those in his clutches into Knights. Earlier lore has him turning people by ideology, he is preying on those who he knows are already vulnerable, he is not limited by scope of domain, but merely by how convincing he can be. And that is terrifying.

Guards aren't killing lords because they need to kill who matters most to them, because they can't stop themselves no matter how much they try.

they're doing it because he told them to.

[justrainandcoffee]

Goodbye, my hopeless dream (Alfie x Tommy)

Hunger Games AU

Summary: That's the last night together and Alfie and Tommy are the last ones alive in that special edition of the Hunger Games. Only one of them was going to leave the Arena alive and it's not Tommy. Alfie and his ghosts are alone now. And his heart is forever broken.

Warnings: Angst. Major character death. Description of killings. Please, remember the kind of world Panem is. If you don't know, well, just know that kids are forced to kill other kids. || MxM love. || Bittersweet ending. ||

Words: 2k. || Tofie masterlist

"Because you'll find someone else to love. I won't."

Alfie woke up with a startled again. He was transpiring despite the cold winter.

His clock announced that it was 2 in the morning. The night was quiet in District 9 but especially in the Victor's Village… because hus house was now the only one habitable there.

I should be fucking dead.

But he wasn't because destiny in that world was a cruel beast. Especially for unfortunate people like Alfie Solomons.

"He's synonymous with luck," people commented. "The two times winner of the Hunger Games Alfred Solomons."

In district 9 he was a hero. He did what the powerful districts couldn't do. The eyes of Panem were in one of the poorest places of the country, because of him. He deserved the glory, the cheers.

But people didn't know the kind of man Alfie Solomons was indoors. Or worse, how he was inside his own mind.

The ghosts he saw, the screams of pain he heard in his dreams… his eyes.

A year and a half ago.

The Quarter Quell was presented as la crème de la crème. The elite of Panem facing the Arena once more. The Quarter Quell meant that the victors of previous games were going to participate in the 75th edition.

They promised them another thing. They promised them freedom. They promised them not to kill again.

And yet…

The rebels were ready to. It was now or never. They were going to kill Coriolanus Snow and free Panem of the tyranny he was. But that was before he and his men killed every single one of the rebels. Even kids. For the right price someone talk and give all the names. Like Judas. And also like Judas he hang himself.

If any rebels remained free, then they were hiding in the shadows. The last massacre was a reminder that as long as Snow was alive, the games still existed. Punishing the rebels not once, but twice.

They were rude, strong. Not like those malnourished children that the whole country saw year after year. They won and they were rich, well fed. Like they were once. In consequence, that was the 17 night there. The longest games ever, but that edition was also finishing. Only four remained alive.

Alfie was resting against a tree with his scythes dropping blood in his hands. He was looking at the sky and paying attention at his surroundings.

He didn't want to see Tommy's face projected on the dome, but he didn't want to be the one killing him either. Alfie couldn't kill him. Alfie won't kill him.

How do you kill the love of your life?

They only could see each other every year for only two weeks maximum, three if they were lucky, but it was enough for them. The kisses in the balcony, the lovemaking in their beds. Alfie's beard tickling Tommy's neck, Tommy's hands on his chest. The stolen smiles. His blue eyes on him like Alfie was the most important man in his life. He was. The nights comforting each other every time a kid of them died. The joy they experienced when the other finally could transform one of their tributes into a victor. The promises of love.

"We're going to be happy together, Alfie, when we can go to district 13."

"I know, Tom. We can live in district 4 afterwards, next to the sea."

"I'd like that."

All those words vanished in the air when they knew that Snow killed the rebels. And even more when he announced the Quarter Quell. Alfie felt the frustration in his bones. The unimaginable anger.

All those promise of eternal love never were going to be possible because happiness and Panem never were in the same sentence.

The sound of a cannon startled him. If it was Tommy, it was going to be easier. Killing the tributes from 1 and 4 was going to be easy for him because he had nothing to lose.

But the image on the dome showed the face of the tribute from 4.

Of course it wasn't him. Thomas Shelby, from 12, was tough as nails. His Tommy.

But, who was going to comfort him during his nightmares if not Alfie? Tommy told him more than once that even when his aunt, sister and brothers were there, the real comfort existed only in Alfie's arms. And same as him, Alfie knew that Tommy won't be capable of killing him.

Tommy was braver than him, Alfie thought. Tommy clearly could commit suicide if it was necessary to erase his pain from Earth. But he couldn't. Otherwise, he could have made it the first years after winning his first games.

Before knowing Tommy, Alfie's life was a constant battle between keeping himself awake to avoid nightmares and and sleeping to forget what being alive meant. He found in casual, meaningless sex a way to numb his brain. Then, one day, one the latest victors approached while they were in the Capitol's Tribute building. Alfie watching at Tommy thought that he had the prettiest eyes he ever seen. Tommy was just 18 and Alfie 20. Fifteen years passed since they met. Fifteen years together. Stolen moments once a year, but for them were precious.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you too, Alfie."

Why was the world was so cruel? Why couldn't two people in love live trying to leave the cruel past behind them? Why couldn't Alfie wake up with his lover in the same bed and enjoy life? Maybe even getting married?

Alfie opened his eyes again. He heard a noise behind him, between the trees. Only the moonlight illuminated the landscape. His scythe was ready to attack the tribute from 1 and killl him right in the spot. Decapitating him if necessary. He did it before. If not, that bastard could kill his partner and no one was going to kill Tommy.

But it wasn't the remaining tribute, it was Tommy himself.

"What're you doing here, Tom? I thought… we talked…"

"I know, Alfie, we said that the best thing we could do was to be apart. But this is the last night, sweetheart. The last one."

His words hurt him. Alfie loved Tommy sincerity, even in the darkest times. The last night together it was supposed to be in the future decades from now, when one of died of old age. Not now in their 30s.

Tommy sat down next to him resting his head on Alfie's shoulder.

"Remember what you told me once, Alfie?: No one can separate us. That's what you told me. I guess we didn't put Snow in the equation."

The sound of the canon made Alfie opened his eyes.

No. No.

"Tommy, Tommy… damn, what did you do?"

"I cut his femoral artery. He bleed himself," Tommy said quietly. "Just you and me now, Alfie."

Alfie dropped his scythe far away from him. He didn't need it now, not ever again. He hugged Tommy.

"You're freezing, pet."

"It's cold. Kiss me."

Alfie didn't waste his time and did it. He gave a fuck if a whole nation was watching them. The man next to him was his love and he didn't care about anything else. Tomorrow morning one of them was going to die.

Tommy moaned when Alfie's tongue found his. How do you tell the love of your life that you're already dying? He couldn't, not now. Tommy layed down on the sand and Alfie did the same but in top of him.

Without stop kissing him, Alfie's hands found his hair, now wet, and ran his fingers through it.

"I love you," Tommy repeated.

"No, I love you."

"I know."

This time it was Tommy who kissed him. His strong Alfie but soft Alfie. He wished he'd have more opportunities to say him how important he was to him. Because Alfie was everything he had.

The tribute from 1 was a beast of man. Stronger and younger than him, but Tommy was smarter. He tricked him and managed to cut his leg, causing an instant bleeding. But the tribute also managed to stab him in his liver. When Tommy started to walk towards Alfie, he removed the knife from his body but the damage was irreversible and Tommy knew it. At least it was going to die in Alfie's hands and he was going to be the newest victor. Two times winner.

"I love you," Alfie said again against his mouth. But when he touched Tommy's abdomen felt the inconfundible warmth of blood. It was too dark to see it, but it was there. He smelled his hand: it was definitely blood.

"Fuck, no! Tommy, no!"

That's why he was cold.

"It's too late, Alfie. And it's better this way, eh? You didn't have to kill me and I don't have to kill you either."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way, Tom! It wasn't! I was going to protect you! I promised you…"

"It's not like we can avoid death, love."

"Fuck. FUCK!"

Tommy put a hand on his face and stroked his beard. He was going to miss him.

"Better me that you, Alfie. You'll find someone else to love. I won't. If something happened to you, then I was going to kill myself and in revenge Snow was going to kill my family. This way, they're safe and you too."

Alfie shut him up with another kiss. Slower this time. His stupid Tommy always taking unnecessary risks. Alfie felt his lover's hands on his neck, caressing his hair and took his time to savouring him.

"Live your life, Alfie. But try to not forget me."

What do you say after something like that. Alfie started to cry in silence. His tears mixed with the tasted of Tommy's lips.

"I won't forget you," Alfie said.

Tommy was curled up against his body when the last cannon sounded. Alfie hid his face on the shoulder of his now dead partner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the victor of the 75th Hunger Games, from district 9: Alfred Solomons."

Now

"Live your life, Alfie but try to not forget me."

"I won't forget you."

Alfie couldn't and definitely won't forget Tommy. His eyes, his kisses… him.

But there's someone else now. She's good and they have a little girl named Allie who's sleeping in her bed hugging her teddy bear now. One day in some years, Allie will be old enough to be part of the Hunger Games and the only thing that Alfie could do was to beg for her name was never selected.

"Protect her, Tommy."

He has to believe that the man who gave his life to protect him, somehow is also protecting his little daughter.

Tommy will protect her. Tommy wishes he could say that to him. Allie Solomons will never be reaped. She never was going to be forced to kill anyone.

An invisible hand touches Alfie's shoulder. There's nothing he can do to erase his pain but trust that time and love will heal his heart.

"To another life, my hopeless dream." Tommy thinks.

Maybe next time they will be luckier. Maybe.

[rin-may-1103]

[oursystemblog]

since you couldn't hear anyone in the beginning, how did you learn who was who? how did you identify parts?

Not Very Helpful Advice-Wise Answer, Mostly just Rambling --

if you mean identify as in "figure out that they were Another Alter" , everyone was distinct enough that we could kind of just tell "hmm . I Am Of A Different State Right Now" -- which was always something we'd noted even before we had a word to put to it, so that wasn't really something we needed to figure out consciously. it's weird to describe it's just a Different Feeling behind the eyes

if you mean identify as in "figure out the name of" -- Most of them didn't actually have names at first so they ended up choosing one and readily wrote it down on their own while they were were fronting

i think for us it was pretty easy because at the beginning the guardian was The Only alter [aside from me , The Host] who would front with any frequency, so i Only had to identify them. this wasn't very hard because they also wanted to identify themself

we worked on that alongside figuring out communication, and it was a decent amount of time before the emotionholder [only other alter at the time] came forward so by then we'd already gotten to the stage of Basic Yes Or No Questions which made it easier

a bit beside the point but i'm adding this on because it's funny (in hindsight), i also freaked out a little bit when that happened because i went "oh i feel switchy/dissociated right now that probably means the guardian is going to front. okay that's fine, i'm used to that now" and then the emotionholder fronted instead (for the first time since we'd started figuring out the system thing) and once they were done i was like "Ok well that wasn't the guardian . That also was not me, though, so Who The Fuck Was That I Thought There Was Like One Other Person Here"

[front-facing-pokemon]

[watercolor-hearts]

. [Fictional self-harm and self-unaliving thoughts mention below]

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Well, I can understand that," Wilhelm replied with a little, sitting Randall down beside Emily as he resumed his own seat-as he sat down, Randall couldn't help but think to himself, You don't even know the half of it, Pa...

"I like to hope those hooligans weren't hanging around, looking to get even, but I'm also glad both of you were vigilant," June sighed with relief, trying not to think of what might've happened had they not flagged down that taxi when they did. "Even if there wasn't anyone there, you still did the right thing, leaving when you did!"

She'd had those bad "gut feelings" before, that unshakable pit in the bottom of her stomach that told her she needed to leave, to take her family elsewhere, to just get away from the area, and even if nothing came of leaving, that no disaster struck after they left, it still made her feel better, and so she understood where Emily was coming from. Especially after what happened a couple of weeks ago-the last thing she wanted was to see her son hurt like that again.

"You want me to watch the window for a little bit?" Wilhelm asked-if those muggers who'd attacked his boy were lurking out there, looking to get a little payback, then he'd gladly sit vigil for a while by the window; he had a permit for these sorts of situations. However, Randall put his hand up and said gently, "I-I really don't think that'll be necessary, Pa, I...I'm sure it's fine..."

"You sure? It's no problem for me," Wilhelm reassured, as Randall looked to Emily with a bit of uncertainty-would it bring them a little peace of mind, if nothing else, having him keep watch for a little while?

[apricote]

!!!!!!! karlach tells me she's going to die soon if we don't fix her heart and the game thinks i'm already in the shadowcursed lands !!!!!!!!

[t-u-i-t-c]

[cold-neon-ocean]

When it comes to modern Baavira AUs the thing I struggle with most is giving Kuvira a reasonable normal job~ Baatar I could come up with several (college professor, an engineer of any kind, repairman, ect.) but Kuvira stumps me a lot of the time lol nothing ever really feels like something she'd naturally choose to want to do, or at least fits with my interpretation of her hmm

[popponn]

rin and his feeling about "rin's similarity to sae" is so interesting but confusing

[generic-sonic-fan]

hands you another one 📁

Woohoo! I hand you in return: "Sage's Voice".

This one is very simple in concept but wonderfully angsty in its execution so far. It's based off of three things that are a bit of a stretch but sounded canon enough in my brain to work:

Sage's voice synthesis draws off sounds donated from an organic voicebank to allow her to sound more human, similar to modern-day voice synthesizers such as vocaloids,

keeping voice memos is a Robotnik family tradition starting with Gerard, and

Eggman has access to the Project Shadow files.

Which, of course, leads to THIS:

“I understand now," Sage says. "It is my voice which provokes a highly emotional reaction from you.” “Your voice?” Shadow snarls in return.

--

Or, to stop teasing you and give you the actual summary- this is a fic where Eggman based Sage's voice off of voice clips from Maria, and Shadow gets VERY upset about it.

[redstarfish-art]

Which Jason is best?

All drawn by me. This is what it looks like when an artist does not have an established art style. XDDD