#dunno who all to tag but if i've left anyone out you can make one too!

[whogirl2011]

Thanks for the tag @louwhose!

tag game rules: make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite!

I'll go ahead and tag some awesome people even if they don't make a poll! @psychicbluebirdmiracle @xqueenybee @precariousrelic @coruscantiprincess

[skyefeys]

A Comprehensive Guide to Writing Gina Dialogue!!!

Do YOU like writing tgaa fics, but find yourself struggling to understand the speech habits of Gina Lestrade? Well, fortunately for you, I love linguistics and accents almost as much as I love Gina - so I've compiled a breakdown of every quirk in her speech!

(Full analysis under the break!)

Most of Gina's speech patterns can be broken down by three fundamental facts:

She speaks with a thick Cockney accent

She's uneducated, which leads to various grammar troubles

She uses a lot of informal cockney terms/slang

Let's get into it section-by-section!

(Note: Formatting looks a lot better on mobile!)

Section 1: Cockney Accent

So I’m an theater kid, and I've done dialect training for Cockney accents before - it's one of my best ones imo - so that certainly helped me write this section! Even without that, though, it's pretty easy to identify how her accent appears in her speech. Let's break it down!

Drop h's

Example: Here becomes 'ere

Drop g’s at the end of words

Example: Going becomes goin'

A few other word ends that get dropped:

Of becomes o'

And becomes an'

Th changes depending on the word - Thank you to annoyingloudmicrowavecultist for properly explaining how this works in the tags!

Voiced th becomes v

Example: With becomes wiv

Unvoiced th becomes f

Example: Nothing becomes nuffin'

For writing purposes, if a word would become unrecognizable with this change, it's left the same (but in actual speech, it would be pronounced differently)

Example: Father remains as father (but would be pronounced like fovva)

Th always remains intact at the start of words

Example: Thing remains as thing (but would be pronounced like fing)

Miscellaneous word changes

Something becomes summat (but other times is just somefin' - she's not consistent with either)

What becomes wot, whatever becomes wotever

Tomorrow becomes tomorra

Because is often shortened to 'cause, which becomes cos

Isn't almost always becomes ain't

Thank you / no thank you becomes ta / no ta

Some words spill together or are slurred

With that becomes wivvat, with it becomes wivvit (This one isn't actually used in-game, so you don't have to use it either, but it reflects how she'd actually be pronouncing it)

Isn't it becomes innit

Doesn't it becomes dunnit

Suppose becomes s'pose

Don't know becomes dunno

Probably becomes prob'ly

You might change - Another loose/inconsistent rule. Can depend on how the sentence would be pronounced out loud, but mostly is just a vibe

You becomes ya

Your/you're becomes yer

Yourself becomes yerself

Section 2: Grammatical Errors

Gina is an uneducated East End orphan, so it should come as no surprise that she makes mistakes here and there. Here are her consistent ones! Some of these are confusing/hard to explain, so I included specific examples.

Will say me instead of my, and meself instead of myself

Example: "I dunno much about guns meself."

Incorrect tense usage of was/were in negatives - Instead of I/it wasn’t, she’ll say I/it weren’t

Example: "I was up in a balloon, weren't I?"

Incorrect tense usage of does/do in negatives - Instead of he doesn’t, she’ll say he don’t

Example: "Somefin' wot 'e don't want people readin'."

Double negatives

Ever becomes never in negative statements

Example: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Never + anything becomes never + nothing

Example: "I never done nuffin' o' the sort!"

Never + anyone becomes never + no one

Example: "All me life, growin' up in the slums, I've never trusted no one."

Haven't you ever becomes ain't you never

Example: "Ain't you lot never gone over an 'ouse lookin' for dough when the owners are out o' town?"

The word that or who in the context of ascribing a feature to a subject is replaced by the word what

Example: "She's always goin' on about all them cases wot Sholmes is lookin' into."

Other example: "I think I wouldn't fancy me chances wiv a lawyer wot lives in a place like this."

Will say them instead of those

"All them skylights open, dead easy."

Will say no more instead of anymore

"Ya dropped it, so it ain't yours no more."

She’ll sometimes mess up bigger, unfamiliar words. This one's entirely in your discretion what words she might mess up. Some canon examples:

“Supperment” instead of supplement

“Mantlescript” instead of manuscript

On a similar note, she'll sometimes confidently get sayings wrong and think she sounds smart

“Toby's...'ow did they put it...? ...Oh, yeah! A 'bone-fide' detective!”

Section 3: Cockney Terms/Slang

In addition to her thick dialect, growing up in the East End means Gina has also adopted a plethora of unique words and phrases. This'll be more like a vocab section!

Cockney rhyming slang - Some words are replaced with phrases that rhyme with them. She uses a few in canon:

Instead of believe, she’ll say Adam an’ Eve

“Would you Adam an' Eve it, eh?! Wot a mug!”

Instead of face, she’ll say chevy chase

“Yeah, I can see it written all over yer chevy chase!”

Interjections/Exclamations

Blimey - Express surprise or shock

"Blimey, yer right! That streak o' light in the photo looks just like an arrow, dunnit?"

Cor - A general interjection, kind of a euphemism for god

"Cor, listen to you! Ya stumble across a bit o' balloon an' suddenly yer the best investigator in the world!"

Oi - I doubt I need to define this one, but it's basically the equivalent of "hey"

"Oi! That's off limits up there!"

Words for people

Cove, bloke - A boy or man. Gina tends to use cove more often than bloke.

"That's where the cove ended up after 'is 'instant kinesis' or wotever they call it."

"When I lifted the last bloke's purse, 'e got wise to me."

Dandy - A conceited, fashionable upperclass man. Can be used as a noun or adjective.

In reference to Ashley Graydon: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Dee - Thank you to uzukirie for figuring this out in the replies of this post - dee is short for detective!

To Sholmes: "I don't need no 'elp from some stuck-up dee!"

About Gregson: "Yeah, the dee let me keep it. After I looked daggers at 'im for long enough."

Swell - A wealthy or elegant person. In canon, Gina uses this exclusively in reference to McGilded.

"It's because o' that, this swell found me. …'E did 'elp me get away, mind."

Miscellaneous vocab

Dodgy - Suspicious

"It was amazin' when you showed that dodgy professor's dodgy experiment was a total fix!"

Rum - Odd or strange

"I mean, wot's the point of spendin' a joey to make a few bob, eh? That's a rum idea, innit?"

Coppers - Cops

"If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse."

Scarper - Flee/run away/leave in a hurry. Also comes from rhyming slang - Scarper = Scapa Flow = Go

"If I did that, 'e said 'e'd let me scarper before the coppers showed up."

Have a butcher's - Take a look. Also comes from rhyming slang - "butcher's hook" = look

"Most days I push the cushion up wiv me 'ead an' look out the crack. Then I can 'ave a butcher's at who I'm gonna fiddle."

Rude words/phrases :)

Gordon Bennett - Expresses surprise or contempt - kind of a euphemism for goddammit.

"Gordon Bennett! You lot!"

Flamin', bleedin', - General emphasis. Pretty much just gentler ways of saying fucking.

Note!! You might be tempted to make Gina say "bloody", since that's well-known British slang, but she never says that. She says bleedin' in its place.

"Don't be so flamin' rude, 'Oddo!"

"It's lies every bleedin' place ya look in this world, innit?"

Bleedin’ Nora - A variation of "Bloody Norah", a surprised/irritated interjection.

"Wot the bleedin' Nora, 'Oddo?! Wot 'ave you gone an' done?!"

Bogtrotter - A derogatory term for an Irish person. She uses this to refer to McGilded.

"Look at the mess it's got you into, believin' in that bogtrotter!"

Mug - An idiot.

"You can't do it from inside, you mug."

Blue blazes - An alliterative exaggeration of "blazes". A euphemism for hell.

"Where the blue blazes 'ave you been, eh?"

Cobblers - Rubbish/nonsense. Literally, it means testicles - derived from Cockney rhyming slang, where "cobbler's awls" = balls.

"All this nonsense about the boss plannin' to kill people… It's cobblers!"

And 1.2k words later, that's pretty much it! Now you can write Gina dialogue spot on <3

Feel free to suggest anything I'm missing/got wrong - I come back and edit this for accuracy's sake every time I notice something I left out, or when people in the replies/tags point things out!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

[rapunzelpumpkin]

MORE Summertime Band info I found!

If you're not familiar with the Summertime Band, they were an animatronic band made by Dave Thomas, a lead artist for Creative engineering.

(Not my photo by the way..)

They were installed at Carrousel Park, an indoor 'kiddie' amusement center in Metcalf South Mall. I found some more information on them! Including a photo!!

^ This article mentions that there was a Gift Shop called "Miss. Felicia's Gifts and Souvenirs", if you didn't know, from some of the only footage we have of these guys, the dog on the very left is addressed as Felicia (Or That's what my ears hear). The gift shop in question sold a bunch of different stuff too!

"The gift shop, Miss Felicia's Gifts and Souvenirs, sells stick candy, twist pops and other items that recall days gone by while the popcorn and cotton-candy machines have an antique look.

There is even an old-style claw tub in the park, and you can redeem your tickets for antique looking toys and memorabilia." (quote taken from the article above.

Another interesting thing I found:

^^ This news article calls the "Summertime band" by a different name: "The Three Dog Afternoon" . The same section also mentions these bots to be " Made by the same people who made the ones at Disney World in Orlando". I've heard conflicting reports about who exactly made these bots, but I know Dave Thomas helped. If anyone knows who exactly was involved, let me know!

I dunno if people have seen this image before but... I found another image of them!

Its hard to make out, but, they're there! Here's the article itself I took it from:

One of my biggest finds was more modern footage of the stage itself!!

This is a tour of Carrousel Park that was taken back in 2013. The actual showcase of the stage starts at 2:32

I'll leave the full video here too!

You need to understand something before you start reading the rest of this, this is a theory. A theory I believe, but there's a chance I might be wrong.(Insert game theory joke here/j)

If you look at some of the only available footage, you will see a Pillar next to Miss. Felicia, (The dog on the very left.)

Now compare it to a screenshot of that more modern video.

Also look at 2:56 for a better idea.

To top things off for this theory, take another look at this brochure, the pillar is in the same spot. Not to mention the vines on it too.

To me, at least, this is the same stage shown in that more modern tour of Carrousel park. If anyone has a higher quality version of this brochure, please do share!

I hope y'all find this as interesting as I did! I hope that maybe someday we'll even have an archive of their showtape. I just want to document all that I can. These guys are really cool, and I hope for a day that someone like me won't have to dig too deep to find more info on them.

(Sorry for tagging some CEI related things, I just wanted to get this info out here and I know y'all would find this interesting!)

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[wispstalk]

20 questions for writers

under the cut. Thanks to @everybodyknows-everybodydies for tagging🖤

Tagging back: @nuwanders @jiubilant @ervona @ehlnofay @druidx @blossom-adventures @sylvienerevarine @throughtrialbyfire @da3drat no pressure

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Five

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

198327

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just elder scrolls. I have a feeling that's gonna be it for me. I've been tempted to write stardew valley fic lately which would perhaps be classed as "crack" (I know what that is in theory but the way people use it makes no sense to me) but I took a cursory look at the tag and I don't think the stardew valley fandom is ready for a ray fic lmao

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well. I have five.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try 🫠 it haunts me how often I've left my beloved mutuals on read..... but if that's u and I did, I am telepathically beaming this: !!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Making out sloppy style etc etc

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

lol. lmao even

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

.....within AO3 I guess it's "Morning" but also that's set at a refugee camp? I will say the skyrim story will have a more peaceful ending but up until now fic writing has been an outlet for my thwarted rage and covid brain damage soooo

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I mean this is generally a culture of positive feedback. Someone did yell at me once for hitting martin septim with the transgender beam which is a level of no-life-havin loserdom which could be classed as "hate" but came off as pure cope and seethe

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I really bristle at the word smut sorry its too cutesy. I was a prodomme for seven years I don't do euphemisms lol. I wrote a sex scene into IITT to see how I felt about writing sex scenes. I learned that I am only interested in writing them if they serve specific functions. I have absolutely zero judgment toward anyone who wants to write about fuckin and suckin, that's just not why I'm here

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No but recently my household watched game of thrones together and my bf and his brother were cracking jokes like what if one of these medieval characters had a gundam. Neither of them read fic so I was like don't be too entertained by yourselves. I bet that has been written. looked it up on ao3 and sure as shit

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I'm not gonna lie I did find a fic where someone very obviously ripped me off but I don't wanna call them out. One specific instance where they bit my style was so clumsily applied as to be obvious, but their prose in general was fantastic so like. who care.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not as far as I know but that would make me holler

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. I'm not opposed to the idea but it's hard to imagine how I'd do this given my process. I think I'd be pretty difficult to work with

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

?!? I dunno I don't have one. I put a lot of effort into writing martinhok but I could not say that one, due to how overwhelmingly heterosexual the tag is. I'm sorry but can everyone who's not a faggot please pipe down

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have my moments with the skyrim wip. I've signed myself up for something pretty complicated and challenging but I also learned that I can finish things so I'm not really worried about it. The fact of the matter is: I do not care if this is good. It matters that it is done so I can move on with my life. If parts of it are boring and overlong that's yalls problem

16. What are your writing strengths?

I get a lot of compliments on my worldbuilding. I do think a lot about the minutiae of material culture and think I have a talent for incorporating detail in engaging ways

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a cornball. This is a corny activity. I don't really care because I'm doing it for free. Enjoy the unsolicited view into an internet stranger's terrible psyche

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I try to apply with a light hand. I'm a dumbass sheltered American and I can mostly make myself understood in a Spanish-speaking country but that's about it. I like playing around with language and the idea of multilingual societies matters to me so I include it, but I'm not a linguist so I try to work within my limits. Whether I am successful at this is up to others.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Elder scrolls. Never felt compelled until i spent a winter playing oblivion and went wow this game has an incredibly bleak narrative behind a silly aesthetic. Oops now I'm in a lore pit

20. Favorite fic you've written?

The Nature of Fire is my best prose hands down. I'm gonna be real with y'all I am desperate for people to read it. It is genuinely the best I can do at this point and if you like what I've done so far, well, whatever u read sucks compared to this fic.

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XXXV.

___________________________________________________

Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: So another break happened, but I'm still alive and I still have a lot of chapters to post so here you go!! :]

Thirty fourth chapter

Masterlist

___________________________________________________

You had the box secured in a pocket of your pants, hidden from the eyes of anyone, the whiskey bottle on the other hand was still sticking out a little. A bang echoed through the sewer tunnels as you came to the hideout entrance. When it was left unanswered for a few moments, you secured your hoverboard on your back and pressed into the round rock. With a lot of effort it finally moved and you slipped in before the stone could squish you as it rolled back into it's place.

You looked around, taking note of anyone who was present and what they were doing. Ekko was nowhere to be seen, which was probably a good thing in that moment. Your hoverboard stayed on your back and you walked up the stairs leading around the tree, through the interrogation room's balcony and to you own room. The doors flung open and you went inside, locking them behind you. You took the box with shimmer vials out of your pocket and luckily, it was undamaged. One of your desk's drawers became its hiding place, in hopes that noone exept you ever needed to open it.

You left your room and flew down towards the ground, looking for something to do, maybe play tag with the kids and practice your new skill? Or ask Scar for a fighting training? Actually, where was he? And where was Ekko? And some more of the older members. Your eyes set on two kids sitting nearby, giggling at something.

"Hey, do yall know where everyone is?"

You waved and flew over to them, hopping off your board and letting it lay on the ground.

"They're taking down a shimmer shipment, hopefully they'll all be back before dark."

You nodded and left the kids to be, promising that if they wanted to, you could all play something. Alright, the punching bag it is. It was a little while since you've practised with it, so it wouldn't hurt. You drew a few deep breaths and bore your eyes into in, clenching your palms into fists and beginning to lay a punch after punch. Your feet moved with the direction of the bag, stepping aside and imagining it was Silco who you were hitting. Your blows begun to get increasingly stronger and sweat started to trickle down your face.

Shallow breath forced you to take a break. You started to slowly pace around the bag and wipe sweat off your face, noticing you have a little audience consisting of three kids, the two you talked to before and Scar's oldest daughter. They sat on the ground a few meters away and when they saw that you stopped, they ran over to you.

"[Reader]! We're hungry and everyone's out doing something, can you make us something to eat?"

You eyes widened at their request and Scar's daughter started dragging you to the kitchen.

"Me? I mean, I can try, but no promises okay?"

"We'll help you!"

"Okay, what do yall want to eat?"

"Uhhhhh, I dunno, what can we have?"

"I've got no idea, okay, let's see what's round here and think of something."

You opened a cabinet and looked around, there was an opened bag of rice, few potatoes and various other ingredients. However your eyes had a certain target, you reached in and pulled out a jar filled with noodles.

"Do yall want vegetable noodles? I should be able to cook that."

"Sure! We'll go get the vegetables!"

The two kids you talked to earlier scurried off and Scar's daughter stayed with you.

The two of you started to cook the noodles while the other kids chopped few vegetables. You handed Scar's daughter a spatula and sat her on the counter, letting her mix the noodles while you prepared a pan for the chopped up vegetables.

"While we're at it, how about we prepare food for everyone so they have something to eat when they get back?"

"Okay!"

The two ran to get more vegetables and you looked around for any spices to add to the mix, while keeping one eye on the boiling noodles.

[practically-an-x-man]

Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)

Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.

____

"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."

Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.

All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.

She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.

"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"

"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"

"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."

"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."

Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.

"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"

"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"

"I dunno. Seems like fun."

"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.

He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.

"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.

"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."

His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.

That one made him feel good.

He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.

"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."

"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.

There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.

Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.

"Julius?"

The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.

"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."

"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."

"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."

That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.

"Try me."

But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.

The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.

Eris had a type.

Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.

The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.

It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.

"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.

He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.

Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.

"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.

It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.

"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."

Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.

"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.

"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."

Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.

"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."

With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.

"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."

"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."

"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."

Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.

"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.

"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."

Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.

"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."

Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.

"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."

Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.

In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.

He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.

"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."

"I love you too, wartime."

[slashingdisneypasta]

I keep forgetting to send these in XD stuff I've thought of for the ship Grycho (you don't have to post publicly if you don't want to, I just wanted to be able to use italics and stuff)

- I'm not sure how you imagine they got together. But me personally, I think it might have been like a slow burn situation. Like maybe they got separated from the others somehow (whether it be for a mission or they got in trouble), and now they have to work together. Maybe whatever this situation, they'd see sides to each other they didn't see before, and it brings them closer ^^

(Either thar or, alternate scenario that's kinda crack, they were together but broke up before the gang got together, and are nowkinda bitter exes (or rather they're still in love and don't want to admit it) and that's why they fight all the time)

- Ok so I they did get together, I imagine they'd deal with their drastic horny levels in one of two ways. One, either Psycho will sleep with Greasy (when he's in the mood) for him. Or two, they make like some sort of agreement that Greasy can still go out and find someone to sleep with, as long as he always comes back home to Psycho (I'll be honest, I like the second option a bit more. It's sweet that they'd trust and love each other that much)

- if it's the latter, Psycho would be all over Greasy as soon as he comes home. Partially because he missed his boyfriend, and partially to get the smell of another person off of him (this will also become an indicator to the others whether or not Greasy got some. So Greasy can't lie about his fuck number anymore XD

Greasy: "Oh, I found a particularly beautiful woman last night. We had quite the time too~"

Wheezy: *glancing at Psycho, who's just doing his own thing right now* "... Really?"

- I'm not sure which I like better; them fighting less because they're now in love and becoming one of those complete opposite couples thar rarely fight, or they still butt heads, but now the other weasels won't try to intervene because they know that Greasy abd Psycho are going to be gross (as Smartass would put it) again in like fifteen minutes... Kinda like Tiffany and Chucky XD

(Omg. AU where Greasy and Psycho are Tiffany and Chucky. Who would be Glen and Glenda? (Stupid and Y/N from the Smartass' daughter AU XD))

- Also, since they're boyfriends, they can now do more missions together WITHOUT anyone else tagging along to be a mediator between them. I like to think that they have the potential to be a dangerous duo.

- If Psycho can get away with it, he'll refuse to eat anything that isn't Greasy's cooking. If he's starving, he'll accept a sandwich. But he would prefer his boyfriends food anyway.

Psycho: "No! I'm not hungry!" *liar*

Wheezy: "Look, Greasy has been gone for hours, and I'm pretty certain he's gonna be gone for another few. So please, just fucking eat sonething."

Psycho: "... No."

Wheezy: *smokes harder*

- not really a headcannon, more like a crack idea; in your Smartass' daughter story, Greasy and Psycho become Y/N's crazy gay unkles. If they didn't live with each other, Smartass would be like "Oh fuck they're coming over." Whenever he gets news that they're dropping by (assuming they'd even give him a warning XDD)

(Which also makes me think of when Jessica was asking 'What if she likes girls' in your last chapter. I can't stop imagining Greasy and Psycho just looking at each other in humor/sarcasm like "Omg babe, are we homophobic?" "I dunno, our pre-outing make-out session was pretty sus." XD)

That's all I've got today. I hope you like these! ^^

OOOOOH I'm picturing the Toon Patrol have to make a quick getaway and Greasy and Psycho were too busy fighting to notice- and then the van is gone and they're left alone together for the f i r s t time ever. They manage to find a phone, call Smartass, and ask what the motherfucking heck happened. When he basically says 'we had ta get outta there. You bozos were too slow. Now get a motel room and we'll come getcha in a week'.

And thus, their rom com beginning XD Greasy and Psycho stuck in a seedy motel with only eachother for a week (Possibly more is Smartass is feeling particularly mischeivious- or Wheezy pays him).

I love the second option too!! But like, imagine if Psycho only agrees to it because Greasy's never managed to snag ass before, so what makes him think now he'll be successful?? But then one day his manipulative pervert comes home covered in someone else's stink and a smug look on his face, and- YES!! suddenly Psycho is a l l over Grease. Rubbing himself on him to get his sent back on him.

Ahhh! Contrary-wise, I actually like the idea of them still fighting a lot!! But like- it's not out of hatred anymore. Just annoyance and differing opinion. The only way you know they're more then coworkers is the very careful way they watch eachother in a dangerous situation and the way they protect eachother ^^ (IMAGINE PSYCHO GETTING TERRITORIAL OVER GREASY. Like, someone's threatening to hurt Greasy and Psycho suddenly comes out like a rabid animal. Greasy knows Psycho will always come to protect him like a guard dog now, too, so he's even less concerned these days about insulting people bigger then him 😅😅😅) (Also, IMAGINE GREASY TALKING PSYCHO OUT OF SCRAPES. Like, if Psycho chewed up the neighbours rose garden and the neighbour was p i s s e d, Greasy would be there to smooth things over. 'Sí, Sí, no it will never happen again. Never. We promise you. Right Psycho?? That growling means sí. Bye bye now!~ *as soon as they're out of earshot* and good riddance 🙄, that rose garden was heinous.')

OH THEY'D BE SUCH A DANGEROUS DUO. At least that's one thing Smartass is happy about XD Wheezy, too, now he doesn't have to mediate 😅 they'd also be a pretty... scary duo, too though. They have very similar levels of empathy... which is not a lot. They'll get the info, and still kill the guy. No one will ever find the body and the only reason Smartass, Wheezy and Stupid even know what happened is because of a very suspicious grin the two shared at breakfast.

Omgggggg, that last one 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I need to see Jessica's resonce to that. She'd be so fucking done.

[texasdreamer01]

Getting to Know You Meme

Tagged by @spurious!

01) Are you currently in a serious relationship? Nah

02) What was your dream growing up? I liked a lot of things, but hadn't particularly settled on any idea

03) What talent do you wish you had? Baking

04) If someone bought you a drink what would it be? Hot chocolate with whipped cream

05) Favorite vegetable? ... Cabbage?

06) What was the last book you read? Oh, finished reading - that was a while ago, but currently I'm reading some diary from WWI off-and-on

07) What zodiac sign are you? Aquarius sun

08) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Just the ear piercings

09) Worst Habit? I don't even know what classifies as a bad habit uhhh I guess needing to write in the same ink colour for my notes?

10) What is your favorite sport? Archery

11) Do you have a Pessimistic or Optimistic attitude? I'm life will sort itself out, but it needs a few good kicks to start it - dunno if that's optimistic or pessimistic

12) Tell me one weird fact about you. ?? I'm on tumblr, what qualifies as weird, here?

13) Do you have any pets? Nope

14) Do you think clowns are cute or scary? I think it depends on the clown tbh

15) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? Nicer nails, I guess?

16) What color eyes do you have? Brown

17) Ever been arrested? Nope

18) Bottle or can soda? Bottle

19) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it? How much is left after taxes?

20) What's your favorite place to hang out at? home tbh

21) Do you believe in ghosts? I've lived in a lot of haunted places, so, yes, definitely

22) Favorite thing to do in your spare time? Reading, writing, listening to music

23) Do you swear a lot? Nnnnoooo?

24) Biggest pet peeve? People attributing one thing for another thing because they think doing so makes them look good/smart/moral/whatever

25) In one word, how would you describe yourself? ummmmmmmm. odd

26) Do you believe/appreciate romance? yes! i'm weird at it but i like it.

27) Favourite and least favourite food? Fave: bread, least fave: cauliflower

28) Do you believe in God? If god is real, I'm owed rent money

29) What makes you happy: Not being stressed

30) Currently listening/the last thing you listened to: Moonlight Sonata

31) Favourite place to spend time: i like! to be! at home!

32) Favourite lyric:

Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger/ The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger/ Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and then

33) Recommend a film: The Wandering Earth 2

34) Recommend a book: The Modern Herbal Dispensatory: A Medicine-Making Guide by Thomas Easley & Steven Horne

35) Recommend a band, a song, or album: So Much (For) Stardust by Fall Out Boy

36) Recommend a TV show: Stargate SG-1

37) Where are you from, and do you still live there? Where have you lived? I've been all over the US, so no, don't live where I came from

38) Do you have any pets or animals in your life? How did you find/get them? Nope

39) What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? Whatever gets thrown into the pan right before I go grocery shopping.

40) How did you 'find' fandom? MySpace! I was actually recommended to check out FFN, and I poked around from there.

41) Make a list of 5 things that you see without getting up. Book, book, another book, hand sanitizer, lotion. Pens?

42) How do you style your hair? Pinned up.

No pressure tags: @pandora15, @ygodmyy20, @variablejabberwocky, @stinalotte, @strangelygleeful, @obscurefrost, @dedkake, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[grumpstuck]

ok ok listen (and this is entirely @the1whowins's fault for linking me to Good Game episodes btw)

I've read most of the fics on the rylex tag on ao3 over the weekend bc I dunno man this is where I'm AT, emotionally, on the planet earth, right now. and I'd like to throw out a suggestion out there to the universe in hopes there's a fanfiction writer still active in this fandom, looking out for plot ideas

the classic "x and y get into an argument and wish they had never met each other" trope. HEAR ME OUT I'M SO SERIOUS ABOUT THIS

the beginning of the fic would take place post-season 1, where the light of canon doesn't touch, because then I can make it as gay as I want. ryland and alex fight for whatever reason and that night, when ryland goes to sleep, he's kicked into an alternate reality where he never met alex. it could be a dream but I like the concept of him being like, physically stuck in this alien environment because it's more unsettling -- maybe he tries to wake up but realizes he Can't

I'm thinking this could start off right before the first episode takes place, chronologically. ryland hasn't met any of the cast (sans lorenzo for obvious reasons). he wakes up, feels like the house is Off for some reason (a lot of things missing, but most of all a very tall Someone missing). calls out to alex, figures he's just mad and that's why he's not responding / maybe he went out already, etc

he slowly realizes there's no post-it note or any sign of alex having left, which is weird because he usually leaves Something no matter how angry he is. but again, there's so much missing already -- and it's not like he could've moved overnight, because. this is where he lives. he HAS nowhere else to go. anyway this prompts ryland to go snoop around alex's room, momentarily disregarding any sense of privacy, since he's a little Worried at this point

of course it's not really anyone's room in this universe.

now, this is an issue, because ryland is an island. like it or not, alex was the one who brought them all together. so when the killcore tournament is announced, ryland luckily has prior knowledge of it -- but the terrifying realization that even THEN he can't make the events of episode 1 happen in this timeline

he can't track down kamal or sam, lorenzo is going to evict him, and he sure as shit can't show up to the charity event to talk to ash by himself. or could he?

meanwhile alex (who is not like, our universe's alex, ryland is the only one who got Christmas Carol'd into this nightmare) is living on his car or something. still trying to perform, maybe even after his bandmates ditch him. at this point I'd imagine the only way for ryland to make it right with the universe would be to assemble Esports People but have them help him find alex somehow

important disclaimer that kamal is NOT going to a bar, that young man is going to stay behind with one of the adults (love the idea of specifically lorenzo being in babysitting duty. I want the girls to help ryland's bi ass track down his man. lots of potential for good banter there). now, of course, finding him is only half of the battle

like what does he DO once they meet properly? I dunno I haven't written the fic. you tell me

[vacantgodling]

15 character questions!!

thankuuuu @kudzucataclysm ily. ig i'll do this for chidorky cuz why not :D

tagging @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @magic-is-something-we-create @sarahlizziewrites & anyone else who'd like to do this :D

1 - Are you named after anyone?

No, I don't think so. I think my parents just liked the way it sounded? I never asked either of them about it, to be honest. I was always just Chidori haha!

2 - When was the last time you cried?

HmMMmm. When the mechanic shop charged me like 200 sturges(1) for their last repair part for my boots. I cried so much holy shit, that was my entire paycheck for the past three weeks. If the Bianchi's(2) weren't so good to me I would probably be homeless again, but gooood those mechanics are mean.

sturges are the currency of the world, named after the now extinct sturgeon fish :)

the Bianchi's are amehana's family, they run the medium restaurant chain BIG TOPZ CHIKIN N' SHRIMP. as they've known and cared for chidori since he was young, they look after him like family since he has none of his own :)

3 - Do you have kids?

Nah, but I don't think I'd want kids. That's more Ame's kind of thing, honestly. I can't imagine changing my life to work around someone else’s. To be there and then... potentially be gone. And then make them have to suffer alone. I mean--I've already been through something like that, so I wouldn't want to do something like that to someone who would depend on me. I like kids though! I consider myself a kid sometimes to be honest www

4 - Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes yeah! I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it :’D

5 - What’s the first thing you notice about people?

A lot of their physical um… form? Usually I don’t pay attention to people unless i’m TMing and that’s usually so like, if something happens I know if I can get them out of harms way or not, y’know?

6 - What’s your eye color?

Ahhhhh *checks mirror* Yellow… Brown? If that’s a color? Like it’s a really light brown but there’s no green so it can’t be hazel… I dunno honestly ww

7 - Scary movies or happy endings?

BOTH! I hate movies that end with everyone being dead and sad cuz that sucks and if I want to live in a fantasy world like at least let the death mean something. I’d say the same thing about real life but sometimes death is so… meaningless. Y’know? It’s really bleak to think about. So, I don’t wanna deal with that in a movie BUT it has to be cool and action packed and a lil scary to be interesting!

8 - Any special talents?

I can break dance pretty well! I have a photographic memory of the city and all of its routes :3c

9 - Where were you born?

I dunno, to be honest. It’s something I never asked my parents about before and I don’t know if I care that much to be honest. I’m here! That’s what matters.

10 - What are your hobbies?

Break dancing, spending time with friends, ummm… Hoverboarding? I guess. I like to do stuff! So I’m willing to try anything :3

11 - Have you any pets?

Nah. I’m not home enough to take care of one, and the permit process to even Get a pet is too tedious y’know? There aren’t really many pets left around, so you have to be registered to have one and like, they can come and take your pet away from you if you’re an unfit owner and shit so like, I’d rather not deal with that.

12 - What sports do you/have you played?

I used to play air hockey(1)! It was a lot of fun but I was never like super good at it. I got cut from the team a lot, but they’d always bring me back on when they needed an extra player! I mostly enjoyed just doing it, I never really got people who cried if we won or lost? I just wanted to enjoy doing it so I did!

air hockey referring to actually using hover boots to play something akin to hockey as we know it in the air. there’s a puck that has its own magnetic field and the sticks are basically just giant magnets that keep the puck aloft.

13 - How tall are you?

5’8”? I think? I haven’t measured recently! :3

14 - Favorite subject in school?

Mm, school wasn’t really for me—like high school. But, the train academy (authors note: that i will properly name eventually…) was everything to me! I got to learn more about the history of our city, trains, combat, how to be a train master and stuff so. That I enjoyed.

15 - Dream job?

Already living it! Train master supreme baby!! :DD

[sio-writes]

Word Game!

I was tagged by @menagerie-of-monsters and my words were: steam, night, gray, and smart

I tag @vaya-writes, @kamaria-sweet-writes, and @kinomiakai with the words string, color, bath, and fright :>

This got a little lengthy, so I’m throwing it under a cut!

Steam: I dug into my early drafts of Botanist’s Guide and found this Kri perspective hiding in the back. Context: Cassie is very drunk and threw up earlier in the scene, so she’s in the shower while Kri babysits.

Night - This is an old oneshot I lost the passion for halfway through, so it’s been collecting dust in my WIP folder, lol

“Some day, huh?” Her nervous laugh echoes off the tile.

Please, stars above, strike me down so I don’t have to endure this torture.

“I suppose,” I say, teeth clamping down on my lower lip. My whole body is on fire. With Cassie speaking to me, every inappropriate image I had banished a moment ago returns in full force.

“I’d really appreciate you not, uh, telling anyone about this,” she says, and I hear her open a bottle. The bathroom is flooded with the scent of artificial lavender, and I am heavily debating ripping off my legs so they do not betray me by walking right into that smell.

“Why,” I try to sound conversational and wind up sounding angry. “Would I ever do that?”

She pauses. “I dunno, to embarrass me?”

I am doing just fine embarrassing myself right now, thank you.

“I do not need to do that,” is all I can manage.

Either in blessing or curse, Cassie does not respond. She opens another bottle, and a third after that, overwhelming my scent receptors. It's all lavender. I am reminded of the scent of her hair, the notes of soap on her skin, this must be the source.

Slowly, quietly, I take a deep inhale, wanting to sink into the scent, but the soap mingles with the steam and my brain unhelpfully provides me with the image of Cassie drenched head to toe. She's lathering her body with soap and I am behind her, pressing my face into her soaked brown curls and taking another long, slow inhale.

This is not helping. You are doing the opposite of helping, Khri'asxu.

Think, you lovesick idiot, so you can prepare for what’s next. She’s going to shut off the water, and humans dry themselves with terrycloth that she hung on that rod by the shower. I can keep my eyes closed for that as well, and I can take deeper breaths once the scent of her soap is gone. She will likely change into the clothes she set out earlier, and then—

The water shuts off.

“Kri?” Her voice sounds small and unsure, and I want to hold her.

I can only make out a small note of question. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry for all this, you deserve better.”

I frown. Always out of left field, with her. “I’m unsure what you mean.”

“A better friend, a better coworker, one who doesn’t throw up on you.”

My dearest cousin,

I write you this letter wishing you well, but also in haste and desperation. Over the past few weeks it has come to my attention that an otherworldly presence has made its home in, well, my home. The doors have been slamming in their frames, glassware rattles and falls from the cabinets, ghostly laughter echoes down the halls, and there is a horrid draft persistent throughout the whole manor. At first I believed the spirit to be my late husband, Edgar, but recent events have shifted my position.

I have narrowly escaped multiple instances of bodily injury of broken windows and falling portraits, each case more severe than the last, by quick wit and excellent timing. But I know my luck will run out eventually. I fear this presence, whatever it is, wishes me dead or at the very least out of its way. 

I'd hoped that given your…proclivities towards the macabre and demonic, that you may exorcize this demon back to the bowels of Hell. I've set up all the necessary precautions, crucifixes and sage and the like. I've also sent all but the essential waitstaff away for the month, and provided you with an allowance so you may purchase whatever materials you require.

You cannot begin to imagine my thanks for undertaking this project. I will sleep much better at night knowing the manor rests in your care.

Your cousin,

    Maude

The carriage drops you off in front of Becker Estate, a gorgeous two-story mansion at the top of a hill. The manor is red brick and timber, surrounded on all sides by thick, lush forest, the only estate for miles around. Your cousin has been Lady of the House for little more than a year, marrying into the Becker family at the age of twenty-four. She's a flighty sort of woman, prone to fainting spells and nervous fits, so you nearly wrote off her letter entirely, attributing it to grief and her anxieties over living alone in such a large estate. 

But something felt off. Maude was prone to hysteria, but she wouldn't write to you if she felt these occurrences were a simple trick of the mind. She wouldn't give you a month's allowance to do whatever you wished if this were a simple hindrance. So you decided it worth your time to at least visit the estate.

Gray - This is a touch of writing I did for my DND character. In the campaign she picked of a Belt of Dwarvenkind that acts as armor, but also gives the wearer a full beard. The beard makes her think of her late husband, who died when they were relatively young.

"I imagine you'd get quite the kick out of this. Probably even steal the belt from me so you wouldn't have to comb out your beard every morning."

Phyra opens her eyes and looks up at her reflection again. She's still not used to the gray hair, the new wrinkles. Smile lines and crow's feet, forehead lines and sagging skin. It all happened so fast, she hadn't been thinking. She wouldn't take it back, not in a thousand years, but she wished the spell had taken something else of hers. Running a hand over her wizened face, she bites back tears. "We were supposed to do this together."

Smart - I had to dig for a good quote that I hadn’t published already. This bit of Naruto fic has been sitting in my drive for years:

“Didn’t you cheat off me in Iruka’s class for that spelling test and we failed?”

“You failed,” Gaara corrected, lifting his chin. “You just dragged me down with you. It was a learning experience for both of us. I learned I need to pick someone smarter to cheat off of. You learned not to be a dumbass.”

[crypticpatterns]

I posted 8,301 times in 2022

That's 1,361 more posts than 2021!

128 posts created (2%)

8,173 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

daz4i

tzila-opal

gothitelle-goddess

almightyrozenidiot

celamity

I tagged 4,028 of my posts in 2022

#p5 - 1,359 posts

#toh - 243 posts

#lgbt - 227 posts

#encanto - 188 posts

#oh fucking my damn - 168 posts

#spop - 154 posts

#star wars - 149 posts

#politics - 125 posts

#neurodivergence - 112 posts

#writing - 83 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#not to take a shitpost seriously but its about the ✨ poetic downfall ✨ of being risen to his greatest heights by the person he abandoned

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I love how before everything with Shiho Joker can straight up say like "yeah I'm cool with murder tbh Kamoshida deserves it" and all Ryuji has to say is "FOR REAL?!" These idiots (affectionate).

45 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

#4

but fandoms are communities and fandoms are always defined by the worst people, even if it feels unfair. there's not any fan content or meta contradicting just evil akechi, its been years and this is what the fandom wants. that's what most people are saying. there's nothing making those people feel unwelcome in fandom, but they make others feel unwelcome.

Okay, I see what you're saying. But I dunno, maybe we're just in different sections of the fandom, but I haven't had the same experience as you. I've seen lots of fan content that favors a more balanced approach with Akechi and acknowledges both sides to his character. I've read popular fic with an interpretation similar to my own that gives Akechi a soft side while acknowledging his rough edges and giving him a place to belong with the Thieves and Akiren. That all exists. Maybe you just need to widen your scope a little, or find different people to hang out with?

I don't really care if people are going to "welcome" my interpretation of Akechi or not. I'm going to write meta about him and explain why he's special to me and what he means to me and I don't give a damn if sections of the fandom aren't happy with that.

I believe you may have left me another ask I left unanswered because I wasn't sure how to address it, but let me copy and paste some of what I left in the drafts.

Goro Akechi, and his dynamic with the P5 protagonist, are complex and dark and messy. Fan interpretations are going to allude to their past. Akechi literally tried to murder Akiren--their dynamic is inherently based on very dark concepts and incredibly complex and tragic emotions on both sides. Akechi himself is messed up. He’s a murderer who tried to kill the one person he ever grew attached to and killed many just to get revenge on one man because his own hatred for his father twisted him to a point beyond recognition. He’s desperate for belonging but he pushes away anyone once they get marginally close, and he’s not afraid to hurt people in the process.

If you have a problem with anything that alludes all of that, then I'm sorry to say you're just not going to like most of the content about Akechi. Fanart and fanfic are going to explore those aspects of his character.

That all said, I’m sorry if you’ve been made to feel unwelcome in the fandom. Use the block button--I’ve done that myself to someone who wouldn’t stop commenting on my posts about Akechi with blatant falsehoods about his character. And create your own experience. I’ve found lots of people who agree with me about Akechi and are creating content that’s sympathetic toward him. Most of them happen to be Shuake/Akeshu shippers (like myself) from what I’ve seen but I’m unsure if you’d be into that. (But for the record, it’s not all abusive.) You just gotta find the right people. Maybe you just haven’t found them yet.

48 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

#3

the parallel between belos killing untold numbers of palismen to survive hundreds of years and hunter's palisman willingly giving up his life to save hunter after belos nearly kills him. so good. chef's kiss. curled up on floor sobbing.

53 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#2

unpopular opinion but i actually really like akechi's ugly ass black mask outfit; the stripes are iconic, it adds to his aesthetic of Absolute Cringelord Dumbass.

67 notes - Posted March 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'll see takes from time to time about people getting annoyed at the "uwu soft boy goro" interpretation of the character. This is nothing new, obviously, and setting aside that this ignores on-screen evidence, this interpretation completely misses a key aspect of his character and the game.

First of all, let me clarify: I agree Goro is a selfish person who does evil, even unforgivable things as the Black Mask.

But seeing Akechi's character as irredeemable or "outright evil" misses one of the key points to his character. Akechi is meant to represent what Joker could have become if he'd been alone. Not only that, but what any of the Thieves could have become if they'd been alone and let their hatred and trauma twist them into something vengeful and empty.

If Goro is just an inherently evil person then his character loses its power. He was a child and a victim and he did not have to become the person he did. All of the Thieves were capable of becoming like Goro had circumstance been different. He no longer serves his purpose in the narrative as Joker's antithesis if you take that part of his character away.

This means both that the Thieves have an inner dark side that could have gotten out of control had circumstances been different, and that Goro is capable, or at the very least was once capable, of being a good person. Goro is capable of Joker's goodness, just as Joker is capable of Goro's evil.

So yes. Goro is an assassin who has murdered many. And he is an uwu soft boi who deserved better.

133 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[enhasfever]

𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑅 - 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌-𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸

tw: none

taglist: @cha-raena @enheyy @goldenhypen @softforqiankun @c9tnoos @mavlogist @kyleeanne @enhacolor @wonyofanclub @missmadwoman @angel-hyuckie @sophiko22 @chocolotti (bold can't be tagged)

you arrived at the only café near your side of the city where you were fairly certain jay was at and breathed a short sigh of relief when you spotted him in one of the far corners. you hurried over to the table he sat at and plopped yourself in the seat across from him, effectively gaining his attention.

"hey," he greeted you with a grim smile, slouching slightly in his seat and setting his phone down on top of the table.

"hi," you smiled back sympathetically, shrugging off your coat and letting it pool around your waist. "have you just been here alone all day?"

jay shook his head. "nah, i came here with the boys a while ago but stayed after they all left. i just needed to be somewhere away from cali for a bit," he sighed deeply, swirling the straw around in his drink languidly as he spoke.

you pursed your lips together to keep yourself from blurting out the less than respectful remarks about cali that wanted to tumble from your lips. at the end of the day, no matter what you wanted to believe, you knew deep down that they'd make up by tomorrow at the soonest and you would have just as much of a chance with jay than you've had in the last two years.

"i hope this doesn't sound as rude as i think it might, but why do you keep going back to her?" you asked genuinely, your heart sinking at the deep frown that took over his features in response to the question you'd asked.

jay was silent for a few moments and seemed to be thinking over his answer. finally, he glanced up at you to meet your concerned gaze and your stomach began doing somersaults. "i love her." ouch. "it's just, we're both going through a lot right now and we take it out on each other and it's not healthy. it's become sort of a vicious cycle now and...it's almost like an addiction or a bad habit that's hard to break."

you tried your hardest to ignore the way your chest constricted with jealousy and instead focused your attention on jay and his hurt. that was why you'd come there, after all. "why not just wait until you're both stable enough to be in a relationship? if you have good communication and set boundaries and everything, it shouldn't be too awful, right?"

once more, you were given a grim smile and a slight shake of his head. "trust me, i've suggested doing that many times but she always finds a way to talk me out of it. i don't expect you to understand how it feels, and i really hope you never do end up in a situation where you know how it feels."

"i'm really sorry, jay," you said softly, "i wish there was something more i could do for you."

"don't be sorry," he assured, "just you sitting here with me is helping more than you think. thank you, y/n." he smiled warmly at you before letting out a long sigh once more. "maybe i'm just not good enough for her..."

oh god, you wanted to vomit right there.

"i- what? how could you even think that?" you blurted out, catching jay by surprise as his eyes grew slightly wide in response to your outburst. your cheeks immediately began to burn with an oncoming blush and you quickly dropped your gaze to your lap embarrassedly. "i mean, if she thinks you're not good enough then she should let other people- she should let you have a chance at meeting other people who can and will appreciate you."

jay's gaze lingered on you for a few long moments and you swore you'd never felt so fidgety and nervous in the presence of anyone else before. a small smile grew on his lips before he sat up straighter and picked up his phone from the table.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he asked, beginning to shove his arms into the sleeves of his jacket.

you raised your eyebrows slightly but mirrored his actions, beginning to slip your own coat on. "oh, uh sure. where to?" you asked, rising from the table and following him towards the counter.

"i dunno," he shrugged, getting in the very short line with you next to him. "what do you usually get from here?" he asked, nodding towards the giant menu that hung overhead.

"oh, you don't have to–"

"i'm your bank account now, remember?" jay answered in a playful tone, gently bumping his elbow against your arm. "by the way, how's that pack of gum?"

once more, you felt your face heating up in a blazing blush and you had to bite back the giggles that wanted to leave your lips. "it's half gone. apparently i stress chew on gum," you laughed softly before telling him your usual drink order. "if you don't know where we're going, then what are we going to do until you think of something?"

"hm, probably just drive around," he shrugged nonchalantly. "is that okay with you?"

you nodded affirmatively in response, perhaps a bit too eagerly at that.

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© enhasfever

[skellebonez]

Who Do I Go To? (Monkie Kid Fanfic)

I totally did not accidentally post this early before I edited it or added everything from my wip file... no... but anon, you gave me so much FREEDOM with this that I just went absolutely off the rails. This is not only set in a post S3 scenario where everyone survives and most of the villains have some kind of at least semi-redemption (except LBD, rip), this does feature a crackship or two of mine (you can read the tags to see the ships before you read)! Sun Wukong also has all of his immortality and some of his powers, I am writing this with the idea that he transferred most of them to MK and some of that was permanent once LBD was defeated and MK got his own back.

So... what if Sun Wukong did start communicating with the others in S3... but still has been bottling up his emotions about the past for so long he doesn’t feel he can talk to anyone because of their shared experiences? And what happens when that guilt and grief finally has someone willing to listen?

“What are you doing here, Si-SUN Wukong?” The Demon Bull King asked slowly, stumbling over his usual insult for the one once so close to him. They still weren’t close, and it was doubtful they would ever be as long as the sworn brothers they once were, but they were no longer at each other’s throats anymore.

That didn’t change how bizarre it was to see The Great Sage Equal To Heaven just... sitting outside his new home with no warning.

“DBK!” Wukong exclaimed, more startled than the larger demon was expecting as he jumped up and turned and if he didn’t look like he’d been hit with a truck metaphorically DBK didn’t know how to describe the way his fur stood on end and the redness in the other’s eyes. “I. UH. Was. Just stopping by to say hi!”

“No you weren’t,” DBK said, face falling into a deadpan glower. “You don’t do that. Even after 500 years I know you don’t.”

“I can start!” Wukong defended, crossing his arms and looking away with a wide teeth showing smile.

Too wide.

Even after everything that happened between them, from Red Boy to what happened when he needed his wife’s fan to sealing him in the mountain and everything that transpired with the Little Thief, he recognized that unhappy nervous smile.

“You can,” DBK said with a nod, gesturing to the smaller being. “You can also be here for a reason. Like what I heard you muttering to yourself behind the door.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” The Monkey King announced as he turned to walk away before a large hand, with shocking gentleness for the one attached to it, wrapped around his shoulders.

“If you need to talk-”

“No, haha, I most certainly have no need for that!”

“-you know we’ve already made peace. I-”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Wukong insisted, struggling only a little before freeing himself from the other’s grip with an even wider nervous smile.

“-am willing to listen.”

“Don’t have to!”

“Are you at least talking to anyone?”

Neither of them said anything, The Demon Bull King staring down at The Monkey King with both frustrated annoyance and genuine concern in his expression.

The former he could deal with, but the later was so new again that...

Sun Wukong panicked.

“.... OKEY BYE!” He yelled, jumping and allowing his cloud to catch him and take him off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOREVER SUN WUKONG!"

"I HID FROM THE WORLD FOR 500 YEARS AND I TURNED OUT JUST FINE, I THINK I'LL MANAGE!"

“He turned out fine, he says,” Princess Iron Fan called from behind her husband as she emerged from their home. “So fine that it took him losing his invincibility and his successor nearly being killed for him to admit he needed help.”

DBK grunted, nodding in agreement at her words.

“He needs more, still, my dear. Even I can see that.”

“Let’s call in some reinforcements then, darling. I think there are two people who may be able to get through to him.”

~

Sun Wukong sat on the beach of Mount Huaguo’s island home, clearly trying not to think about what had just transpired.

“Hey.”

“How did you even know to look for me here?” Sun Wukong asked, not nearly as startled this time. He’d heard the footsteps coming for a long time, the other apparently wanting to make his presence known.

“Bull King called Pigsy’s asking for MK. MK called me since he’s working. I remembered where you like to sulk. Hence: I’m here.”

Wukong groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. “I shouldn’t have even left the house today.”

“But you left,” Macaque said with a shrug, watching the other stew in his frustration at himself. “And you went to see DBK... and I guess Princess Iron Fan too? But you ran off. Why?”

“I can’t check up on an old friend turned enemy turned less enemy to ‘not exactly friend but we’re not trying to kill each other’ without being questioned?” Wukong grumbled into his arms.

“Not when you make him sound as worried as he did when he talked to MK,” Macaque continued, voice becoming more tense. “You didn’t go to apologize or explain anything, I was there when all that went down. So... did you finally go to talk about everything e-”

“No.” The word was said with such coldness that Macaque knew it was put on. It wasn’t out of malice but something else, something more worried and fearful. “No. I can’t talk to him about... I told him everything that explained what happened. I apologized. I don’t need to talk more.”

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to to just talking about, you know... how you’re doing," Macaque said with a concerned frown. It almost felt odd on his face. Almost. He was still getting used to the whole "not being mortal eternal enemies and now being friends and kinda sorta caring about each other again" thing. "I know it's been centuries and all and you're out of practice but like... it's been centuries."

"I just... can't, Macaque," Wukong rebutted as he refused to lift his head from his arms. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Don't."

The single word stayed in their air between them, heavy and hard and meaning more than the immortal would ever admit to.

"Come on, there has to be a reason," Macaque insisted as he sat down beside the other immortal. When no response came he sighed, tail flicking absently and flipping over some of the rocks on the beach as they sat in silence for few minutes. "You know... I started talking to someone."

"What?" Wukong turned his head, just enough to look at the other monkey from the corner of his eye.

“Sandy’s a good listener,” Macaque continued, falling back down to lay flat on his back and gaze up at the clouds. He remembered that Wukong felt better, sometimes, when you looked away when talked to. Didn’t know why, but he remembered. “Not exactly the kind of therapy he thinks I need, but he lends me his cats and he lets me talk and sometimes asks if I want advice. Sometimes I say yes, but when I say no he understands. Sometimes I just want to rant at that one little one eyed cat he has and she listened to... I think. She’s a cat so I wouldn’t know. He thinks I should see someone more experienced, an expert. Maybe he’s right, I dunno, but this helps enough for now.

“... who are you and what have you done with the Six-Eared Macaque?” Wukong asked with a soft glower, one that was clearly in jest from the tiny smile the other could see.

“Same Macaque,” the other said with a laugh, sitting back up with a theatrical flourish. “Just realized that talking to someone isn’t as dumb or useless as I made it out to be in my head. A lot of the stuff I thought about alone wasn’t exactly the best. Or healthiest. But now I can get that out there and sometimes it makes Sandy look like he ate a whole lime which probably means it’s good it’s not in my head anymore.”

“You ramble a lot,” Wukong said with a chuckle, tail swishing softly beside him before nudging against Macaque’s. He tensed before it slowly wrapped around the other’s. “It feels odd, having you try to cheer me up again after... everything.”

“Bad odd or good odd?”

“Good.”

“That’s.... good,” Macaque said, squeezing Wukong’s tail with his own. “Feels odd for me too. Like I’m out of practice too. But it’s good odd...” The two sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company before he continued. “I do think you should talk to someone. Anyone.”

“I don’t know who, though. Every time I try I just... clam up and run away. I’ve put so much on MK already,” Wukong said, tail squeezing around Macaque’s loosely in return. “And Pigsy and Sandy... After all that came out, that Sandy is Sha Wujing and Pigsy is Zhu Bajie’s reincarnation... I just... I can’t talk to them either, even though Pigsy doesn’t remember anything at all. And you... DBK... everyone... who do I go to that knows enough about me to know what they’re in for but I won’t have those memories floating around in the back of my head toward making me run away?”

“Well, you could have Sandy help you get a therapist. Prepare them in advance. Or, if you’re not ready for that, you could talk to Tang?” Macaque suggested with a shrug. “He listens to me when I’m not talking to Sandy... but that’s probably because we’re dating, that’s what it is now instead of courting, right? So he kinda has to I think? Pigsy and MK talk to him too but with me I think it’s different.”

"I don't think that's how it works," Wukong said with a half hearted chuckle as he finally raised his head all the way. "Besides, I've known Tang longer."

"By like 3 months."

"3 months more is still enough to know that if he doesn't want to listen to you he won't. The man knows how to make a speedy exit."

"Guess that's one more thing that sets him apart from his great-great-great-great-great-whatever uncle," Macaque admitted with a shrug and a chuckle of his own. He squeezed his tail around Wukong's, smile softening when he felt it being returned.

“Feels... weird though,” Wukong said with a shrug. “The two of them looking so much alike.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Macaque rebutted. “He’s Tang Sanzang’s great-whatever nephew 5 times removed or whatever and he looks like him. Other than that? He knows pretty much all of your history. He’s mostly out of the hero worship zone but he still respects you a lot. Aside from everything that happened with LBD and MK you two have the least history out of everyone so maybe whatever’s in your head making you clam up might not stop you. And it couldn't hurt to try. It’s not therapy, it’s just talking about something that’s bothering you. Worst that can happen is you get nervous and fumble and he takes the opportunity to ask you 40 questions about the times you were almost incinerated by a baby."

"That was one time!"

~

“Uh,” Tang started, staring out the open door with wide eyes at the being before him. “Hi. I didn’t exactly expect to you see today.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be here today,” Wukong said awkwardly, nervous smile taking over his face as his tone became far too jovial for what he was about to ask. “Macaque sent me to... talk to you. About me?” His smile drooped bit by bit as he said these words, slowly starting to lose his determination to go through with this. “Oh second thought, maybe I should-”

"No," Tang said, reaching out to put a hand on the immortal's shoulder. It was nothing, really, not to someone as strong as he was. Not when he could brush it off and walk away. Go home. Just sit on his couch and watch Monkey King The Animated Series again and just think about how no one deserved to be saddled with his problems anymore. But Wukong didn't. "Whatever it is, we’re going to talk about this now. I know I’m not trained like Sandy is, but I know how to listen. And if you need someone to listen to you, I can. You wouldn't have come here to talk if you didn't."

“... ok...” Sun Wukong said, letting Tang wrap his arm around his back and guide him inside his shared home with Pigsy and Macaque.

It was... odd. Being inside this place for the first time. He’d been outside of the door more than once, invited in as well. But never inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tang said, stopping his guidance once they reached the sofa. “I’m no Sandy, but I was making myself some tea and it is a batch of his own anyway. I’ll grab us some snacks too.”

“Snacks would be great,” Wukong admitted, watching the other disappear into the house’s kitchen before he sighed and gripped his thrashing tail and muttered to himself. “What am I doing..? I shouldn’t put all this on Tang... I should have gone with Macaque’s first suggestion, I’m-”

“Do you prefer lychee or persimmon?” Tang asked suddenly, startling the immortal for the second time that day. “We’re out of peach bao, but MK’s been making them out of lots of fruits and we have so many that I was planning on eating them myself.”

The scholar returned, faster than expected, with a full tray in hand. Teapot, two tea cups, and a steamer box that presumably held the buns he was asking about.

“Uh... persimmon,” Wukong answered, and he watched as Tang poured each of them a cup of tea and removed some clearly fresh (or at least made some time earlier in the day and freshly steamed), pieces of fruit laden bao to put on a plate for his guest before taking a seat in a chair across from him. “You were... getting lunch?”

Tang shrugged, laughing as he took a bite of one of his own. “Just wanted a snack. But,” He smiled, gesturing to the Monkey King. “We’re not here to talk about snacks. What’s on your mind?”

“Awfully forward start.”

“I try to be forward with the people I consider my friends.”

“... You consider me... a friend?” Wukong asked slowly, turning the bao over in his hands. It was well made, perfect he would say. You’d think MK would have been making them all his life, not that he’d learned how to on the drone ship while on the run from an evil super demon bent on erasing his mentor from the world.

“After everything we went through, how could I not?” Tang said, putting his food down to sip his tea and then putting that down as well and looking at him seriously. “You’re here because it’s the anniversary of the day you sealed away the Demon Bull King, aren’t you?”

The bao in his hands wasn’t perfect anymore. Instead the red lychee inside dripped from his claws from where they punctured it in surprise.

“How did you-?”

“My specialty study is your history after all,” Tang said, smile returning with a sad tint. “I’ve known the date for years but I felt it was something to keep to myself. For some reason. Now with you and DBK back I think that was a good choice. It feels too personal to have out in the open for everyone to make a spectacle of.”

“Is it selfish of me to be thankful for that?” Wukong muttered, gently placing the bao on the plate to lick his claws clean.

“I don’t think so,” Tang answered.

“I feel selfish though,” he continued, not managing to take note of how Tang sat up straighter and turned more toward him. “I went to DBK’s to... I don’t know. I wanted to apologize again? But I already did and he accepted it and it feels selfish to want to again. Then I just. I froze.”

“Why?” Tang asked, scooting closer.

“It felt wrong.”

“Because you would make him feel awkward?”

“NO!” Wukong groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just. I feel...” He took in a shaky breath, claws digging into his skin slightly.

“Don’t,” Tang’s voice came soft and closer than Wukong expected, as did the hands on his own slowly pulling his claws away from his face. “Don’t hurt yourself. And don’t bottle it up. I’ll listen to you. No matter what it is. It’s not selfish, feeling things isn’t selfish.”

“I miss it,” Wukong breathed out, shaky and choppy as his throat tightened as the words started to pour out of him. “I miss him. How things used to be between us and Iron Fan. I miss that I never got to meet Red Son when he was Red Boy. I miss Beng and Ba and Ma and Liu and how things used to be. I miss Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing even though they’re here. I miss my Tang Sanzang. I’d been alone for 500 years and I missed so much and I did that to myself and it’s selfish to miss like that...”

He didn’t realize his cheeks were wet until his hands had been let go and one of Tang’s rubbed a cloth against them. Tang cupped his cheeks softly before wrapping his arms around him and tucking the Monkey King’s head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“No... no it’s not. You’re allowed to miss things, Sun Wukong. Just like anyone else.”

Sun Wukong started to feel better.

He didn’t know why that was what did it, but the dam broke. It broke and his tears came pouring out as he hugged the man who reminded him so much of his Master. He didn’t know if anything he said in the mean time made any sense, if he was just blubbering and finally letting himself mourn what he’d lost and never had, but Tang didn’t ever chastise him. He let him weep and hold him and for the first time in years...

~

“Oh!” Princess Iron Fan startled as she opened the door to see who had knocked, finding herself face to face at sunset with one Great Sage. “You’ve returned.”

“Are you and DBK free?” Sun Wukong asked, smile no longer too wide. “I... kinda just wanna talk with you for a bit.”

“Well... I think that would be lovely.”