#eli replies to asks

[lelelego]

the way you draw eli is so fucking gender i want to be him

his gender is fluffy hair big jacket and most importantly a mostly positive attitude

[danielsarmand]

some of my favourite rook screenshots so far because i am so unbelievably attached to him

[hedwig221b]

Hi hi! I’m SO excited you’re taking prompts! You’re on my favorite sterek authors!! Prompt: Stiles is a few months pregnant with their second child and Eli, he’s maybe 4 or 5, is making his day very difficult and it all boils to a point where Eli tells Stiles that he hates him. Stiles takes it to heart and doesn’t know what to do with himself while Derek tries to reason with him “Stiles, he’s 5 years old, of course he doesn’t hate you”

sorry for making you wait 84 years, anon

Eli was a smart boy.

Of course, he was, with Stiles’ brain and werewolf superior genes his and Derek’s child couldn’t be anything but amazing. He was four and a half but could already read his favorite tale — a werewolf-friendly retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood. There was a brief period when all he would read was this tale, and no amount of Stiles’ whining could sway him.

The stubbornness came from Derek, for sure.

And lately, something changed in Eli’s attitude. It was gradual and not something Stiles noticed at first. Eli was healthy and bubbly and happy most of the time, a perfect overly energetic and curious child, but sometimes he just gave Stiles this studying, almost suspicious, long stare and pursed his little button nose, as if thinking very hard about something.

Today was one of those days.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Stiles chirped and happily received a quick goodbye kiss from his gorgeous, fantastic, but, alas, busy husband.

Derek stroked Stiles’ belly and smiled upon receiving a mischievous kick, then turned to look at Eli, who watched both of them very carefully.

“Say goodbye to Daddy, pumpkin,” Stiles grinned at him.

“Bye, Daddy,” Eli murmured, frowning a little.

Derek chuckled. “Are you sleepy still?” Eli shook his head, prompting his dad to catch his hand and tug him toward himself.

“Love you,” Derek said and smacked a kiss on Eli’s cheek, which, thankfully made him giggle.

“Love you, too,” Eli answered a bit more cheerfully, glanced at Stiles and ran away into the living room to take the TV-remote hostage for his morning cartoon time.

“Are two of you bickering again?” Derek arched an eyebrow.

“No. I don’t know, have to investigate,” Stiles sighed.

“Good luck.”

*

“Tata?”

“Hmm?”

Upon not receiving any answer, Stiles put the plate gently back into the soapy water and turned his head. Eli had somehow managed to sneak into the kitchen unnoticed and now stood right beside Stiles. His little hands clutched the TV-remote, as he picked at one of the buttons.

Eli looked up at Stiles with a slight frown. “I love you.”

Stiles lifted his eyebrows, but despite the surprise, the smile still tugged his lips up.

“I love you, too, honeybun,” he chuckled.

Eli continued staring at him, as if waiting for something.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asked slowly after some time, keeping his voice light. “Want some snacks?”

“No,” the child muttered, turned around and went back into the living room.

Stiles stared after him. Thoughts started buzzing in his mind, as he cataloged everything that might have happened. When he eventually came up with nothing, Stiles left the dishes, wiped his hands and tottered into the living room.

The TV was on, but Eli was staring down at the remote, picking the same button, with a pout on his face. Stiles walked to the couch, biting his lip, and sat down, swinging an arm around Eli’s small shoulder and tucking him into his side.

“Pumpkin, what’s the matter?”

“No matter.”

“Then what’s with the long face?”

Eli looked up at him. “Do you love me?”

The question made Stiles freeze, because he told Eli about his love every single day. Did he not believe him?..

Stiles’ heart sped up uncomfortably. “Of course I do, sweetheart,” he stroked Eli’s wavy chestnut hair. “Why do you ask? Did I do something wrong?”

Eli, however, stared at him. Finally, after not getting whatever he was waiting for, the pup chucked the remote down on the floor.

“Eli!”

But his little wolf was already running to the stairs.

Stiles cursed, as he slowly stood up and hurried as fast as he could, keeping a calming hand on his bump.

“Eli!”

“No! If you hate me then I hate you, too!” a small distant voice echoed through the hall.

Huffing and puffing, Stiles climbed up after him, but was greeted with a closed door. Suddenly, he had so much respect for his dad and his, as it turned out, never-ending patience.

Despite Eli’s cranky efforts from the other side, Stiles managed to squeeze through, which made Eli growl.

“Hey, mister, no growling at Tata,” Stiles pointed his finger at the pup, but Eli didn’t listen. He jumped on his bed and hid under the covers. “I’ve never said I hated you, Eli. Where did that come from?”

Eli stayed silent, just wiggled a bit to get comfortable.

“Eli, sunshine…” Stiles begged.

“No.”

“Come out, pretty please?”

“No!”

“Okay,” Stiles muttered under his breath. It was one of those stubborn episodes, then. The pup needed to chill.  “Okay, you stay there and calm down and think about what you said. I don’t hate you and…”

“You hate me!” Eli snuck out of the covers; his hair was mussed up and his face was red, whether it was from anger or from sadness. “Daddy loves me, and you not!”

“I do.”

“Do not!”

Then Stiles remembered he was arguing with a four-year-old. He couldn’t not argue, though — his child had somehow got into his little head that his Tata hated him and that was downright illegal for him to think.

With something heavy and bitter forming in his throat (damn those fucking hormones) Stiles went downstairs, picked up his phone and called his savior, his anchor and sometimes his only voice of reason.

“Yes, baby?”

“He hates me,” Stiles sniffled.

Derek went silent for a couple of moments. “… no, he doesn’t.”

“But he said so,” god, now his voice was wobbling. Great.

“He is four, Stiles. He also swore to both of us he saw his dinosaurs move at night. He doesn’t hate you.”

Stiles swallowed and blinked rapidly. “It’s just… I can’t believe he thinks that.”

Elias was his son, his baby boy, his sunshine. He was a miracle — one he and Derek didn’t even know they could have. It was a total surprise from non-other than Stiles’ spark magic. The greatest gift of a lifetime. Eli could literally do nothing wrong in his eyes.

Derek sighed over the phone, hearing his stuttered breathing. “Can both of you make it to lunch? I’ll come home and make him talk.”

“Okay,” Stiles answered, breathing out in relief.

Derek will make everything okay. He always did.

*

Upon arriving home, the werewolf kissed Stiles on the cheek and went straight upstairs.

Stiles looked up after him, but after not hearing anything went to sit on the sofa. The remote somehow found its way into his hands; it took him a couple of absent minutes to realize he was picking at it, which made him immediately throw it aside.

At last, his anxiety-inducing depressive thoughts were interrupted by a sound of steps.

Stiles swiveled his head. Derek was walking down the stairs with Eli nestled in his arms. His poor baby was clutching at Derek’s shoulders; his face was pink and — Stiles’ heart jumped — wet with tears.

Apart from that, though, he was smiling.

Unable to understand anything even the slightest bit, Stiles turned his pleading gaze to his mate, who was also smiling softly.

“Eli and I had just found out,” Derek sat down on the couch with Eli still in his hands, “that you are a little silly, Tata.”

Stiles blinked at them. Eli giggled.

“Wh— I mean, of course, I am, but why?”

Derek tsked playfully and leaned to whisper into their son’s ear. “See, pup? Completely clueless.”

“Queue-s,” Eli giggled again.

“Shall we show him?” Derek asked and, after Eli nodded, turned to Stiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too?” Stiles arched his eyebrows.

Derek leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then turned to Eli. “And I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Eli said with a grin and squeezed his eyes shut as Derek smooched him on the cheek.

Derek then turned to Stiles and lifted an exasperated eyebrow at him. “Now your turn, Tata.”

Stiles blinked at both of them. “I love you, Eli,” he said slowly.

“Love you, too, Tata,” said Eli and, as usual, waited for something.

And oh. Oh.

Stiles was really very silly.

He quickly cupped his son’s full pink cheeks and descended upon each of them with loud kisses. Finally, finally Eli blessed him with a bright laugh.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Stiles sniffled, taking his pup in a tight embrace and closed his eyes when he felt tiny hands wrap around his neck. Eli gave him a soothing pat (just like Stiles did to him sometimes), making him laugh.

“Do not forget it many more, Tata,” Eli leaned away and made a fake scowl at him, shaking his finger in Stiles’ face. “You say love you and you kiss me.”

“I won’t forget, sweetheart.”

Eli nodded to himself and laid his head back on Stiles’ shoulder, satisfied with his lesson.

Stiles looked up at Derek with glistening eyes. The wolf chuckled and swiped a thumb against his cheek.

It was the unsaid, undiscussed ritual, so old and automatic, it became an instinct: when one of them was leaving somewhere, they made sure to say ‘I love you’ and seal it down with a kiss. In child’s uncomplicated brain this declaration of love always went in pair. After all, he’d seen it so many times from his parents. So it’s no wonder he got confused, when all he received was ‘I love you’.

Never more will his child spend a day without a kiss.

Blinking left-over tears from his eyes and softening under the gaze of his mate, Stiles put his lips against the soft skin of Eli’s neck and blew a giant raspberry.

Eli screeched in giggles, trying to squirm out of his hold.

Their home was filled with laughter once again. As it always should be.

[galactic-knightmare]

Lady Phosphor, what do you think of some of the other competitors in the tourney?

"Mini-Galaxia here! sorry about that, we're still getting used to non-hostile dark matter! They do seem pretty nice though!"

Anyway ignoring Phosphor's War PTSD, all of these are very cool and ya'll should vote for them ;3

@kirbyoctournament

...and now I gotta tag everyone for the ocs they've used. apologies for the notifs TTnTT

Fecto Flora belongs to @ceoofmetagala

Life Belongs to @shippyo

Sir Uther Belongs to @quanblovk

Shade Knight belongs to @rosiegardenlove

Elys belongs to @cheriethecherub

Rimuri belongs to @zeros-witness

[saltlickmp3]

Mack!!! Hello hi!

You probably already have read/heard this but I found an audiobook thing of the ressurection casket (a dr ? story) which you might enjoy if you havent already!

I can't seem to put a link in here but if you answer this I'll put it in a reblog XD

ELI !!!!!! HELLO !!!!! ooh i dont think ive heard of that one but yes i'd love to listen to it ! :] thank you so much <33

[pluggedintosaverockandroll]

1, 8, 10, 44, 50 for the book asks!! 📚

Hiii Eli!!!

Name the best book you've read so far this year.

I'll name 3 because I can't just choose 1. Dracula by Bram Stoker Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland

Favorite queer fiction book(s).

Spear by Nicola Griffith, Crier's War by Nina Varela, Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo, Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Favorite classical literature.

Dracula by Bram Stoker obviously, but I'm also a huge fan of Le tour du monde en 80 jours by Jules Verne. And Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury too of course.

The book(s) whose stories have become part of your very makeup.

Not to be a broken record, but Dracula... Also every Rick Riordan book I've ever read will always have a special place in my heart. The Martian by Andy Weir also lived in my mind rent free.

What kind of book have you never read but always hope to find at some point in the future?

This is a very interesting question that I do not have an answer for currently.

Thank you so much for the asks <3

[Ask Game for us Self-proclaimed BOOK WORMS 📖🐛]

[mirasmirages]

🛡 valnori!!!! go wild with it

🛡 Hurt protecting someone they love

"Absolutely ridiculous!"

Val sat sprawled across an armchair in the living room while Coach Falkner paced the floor muttering.

"There's no way she won't win. It's rigged!"

On the couch next to the chair, Cara lay with her head in Eli's lap. Neither of them looked particularly worried, but Val knew they all felt it.

Tomorrow their dance crew were going to compete in the regional talent show, and they had a good chance of winning. At least, they had had a good chance of winning until it was announced that one of the other contestants was Norina, a young singer whose career was just taking off.

"She doesn't need this. She's already famous! And the prize money will mean nothing to her! Not like it would for us."

Val poked Cara with her foot. They were all exhausted after today's rehearsal, and Val wanted to go to bed. Coach could go on for hours if no one stopped him, but Val did not want to be the one to do it. Cara gave her a look, and the two had a short but fierce conversation solely through their eyebrows.

Defeated, Val sighed. "So, what are we going to do about it? We can't exactly stop her from competing, so what, do we drop out? Or do we go for second place?"

It would suck to only get second, but they had worked for this for so long, dropping out would be even worse.

Coach Falkner stopped talking and narrowed his eyes at her, and Val braced for getting chewed out.

"That," he said, "is exactly what we'll do."

Wait... what?

"We're... going for second?"

"We're going to stop her from competing," Coach Falkner said. "Since you volunteered, Val, you will find her tomorrow before the show and convince her."

"Wait, no-" Val protested, straightening up. There was no way that was going to work, she was a dancer, not a talker!

"Now that's settled, off to bed with you." Coach made a shooing motion towards them. "Cara, stay for a minute, I need a word."

*

Sneaking into Norina's dressing room was easier than Val had thought it would be. She had imagined sneaking past guards, or picking locks, but when she got there, she could just walk straight in.

The fact that Norina got a dressing room all to herself was ridiculous. The rest of them had to make do with sharing the general backstage area, working around each other while warming up, but apparently that wasn't good enough for the little celebrity. No, she had to have her own mirrors, and her own clothing rack, and her own snack table. Val snatched a bag of chips and sat down in the makeup chair to wait for Norina to come to the room.

She finished the chips before anyone came, and then walked a round of the room, stroking her fingers over the ridiculous costume Norina had brought. Norina was known for her opulent outfits, shiny long dresses that covered the stage and hair that was probably in fashion hundreds of years ago. The dress she had brought today was blue and green and had a kind of crunchy sheen to it.

Maybe Val had come too early. She had been early on purpose, since she hadn't wanted people to be here already, but this waiting was incredibly frustrating. She just needed a minute alone with Norina so she could tell her to drop out, and then she could go back to her crew.

She dragged the makeup chair over to the snack table and resigned herself to wait until someone came. Coach Falkner was going to be pissed if she didn't succeed in her mission, and while she had her doubts about how possible it was, she had to at least try.

The door opened half-way through her third tiny bag of chips.

Val had seen pictures and a few film clips of Norina on stage, done up in her costumes and makeup, but right now, she was wearing her hair in rollers and had barely any makeup on. She had a cup from Val's favorite milkshake place, which she dropped in the trash can the moment the door closed behind her.

"Hey!"

Norina startled as her eyes flew to Val.

"Who are you?"

"Did you just throw out a full milkshake? Those are expensive!"

"Did you touch anything?" Norina ran to the costume rack and ran her hands down the dress, probably looking for some kind of sabotage she wouldn't find, because Val was using more honest tactics than that. "No one should be in this room!"

Val rolled her eyes. "Calm down, princess, I didn't mess with your stuff. Seriously, though, why would you buy a milkshake just to throw it out? Was it for a picture? Did they sponsor you?" Val got up and picked the milkshake out of the trash to see if it could be salvaged. Cara would laugh at her for eating out of the trash, but come on. It was from Rainbow House!

"It was a gift," Norina said, grimacing as she watched Val. "It's very sweet of them, but I can't have dairy before a performance."

Val gave the milkshake a lick and frowned. It was almost bitter. "What flavor is this?"

"Chocolate, I assumed."

"That's boring. You should try their butter-rum milkshake, it's way better than this."

"I ... okay? Who are you, again?"

"I'm Val." Val stood and did a turn, letting Norina see the back of her sweatshirt. "I'm on The Kestrel Crew. We were gonna win this show, until you showed up."

"Okay ..." Norina said, looking unsure. "What are you doing here? No one were supposed to be in here."

"They should lock the doors if they didn't want people to come in," Val shrugged, and put her hands in her pockets, pretending not to be as awkward as she felt. "Anyway, I'm here to tell you to drop out of the show. It's not fair that you show up with your fame and your money and steal the show."

"That's not fair," Norina said. "I have just as much right to be here as anyone else."

"Do you, though? You don't even live here. You have a record deal and modeling jobs. I saw you in a hair dye ad on TV. People know who you are, and when you win, it won't be because you're good, it'll be because you're famous."

Val had expected Norina to be angry, or at least arrogant enough to not care, but instead, she looked almost hurt.

"I think you should leave," she said. "I need to do my makeup. Good luck on your performance."

"Yeah, whatever. We both know who will win," Val muttered and left.

*

The talent show had started, and Val was backstage, stretching as she waited for it to be their turn. On the other side of the room, Norina looked like a peacock in her shiny green and blue costume.

Coach Falkner had been surprisingly unbothered when Val told him she failed to get Norina to drop out, and Val wasn't sure if that was because he realized she had no chance to begin with, or because he was saving his fury for later. Probably the latter.

Cara dropped down next to Val and started working on her side splits, as if they weren't already perfect.

"Show-off," Val whispered.

Cara laughed and bent her foot up behind her head. 

"I can't believe she's still here," Cara whispered, glancing over at Norina. "She must be feeling terrible about now."

Val looked over to where Norina looked just fine. Nervous, maybe? Or guilty, as she should. But Val hadn't been that mean. "Why would she?"

"I gave her a milkshake on the way in," Cara explained. "Pretended to be a fan fawning over her. It was full of laxatives, and they should be kicking in at any moment now."

So that was why the milkshake had tasted funny. Val was feeling pretty miffed about not being let in on the plan. "I thought I was supposed to make her drop out."

Cara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, because we all thought that was gonna work. You were the distraction. We had to do something that would actually work."

"Well, she didn't drink it, so I guess we both failed."

"What do you mean she didn't drink it?" Cara actually looked kind of shocked.

"She doesn't drink dairy before she's gonna sing. Maybe she's lactose intolerant."

"Shit."

Cara got up to talk to Coach, and okay, yeah, that was the fury Val had expected. He wasn't shouting, not with so many people around, but Val could feel it radiating off him all the way to where she was sitting.

"What did he say?" Val asked when Cara returned, looking much less confident than she had been just a minute before.

Cara shrugged. "Something about a plan B?"

"What's plan B?"

"I don't know. I thought this was plan B."

When it was Norina's turn to perform, Val went to watch from the side of the stage. A hush went over the room as the lights adjusted, making Norina's dress sparkle like the ocean at night, and she began so sing.

"Tanto tempo fa, un uccello fatale di nome Chromaggia." 

She was just standing there at the front of the stage, and yet everyone in the audience was paying attention. Even backstage, a lot of the performers had come to listen. It wasn't the style of music Val would choose to listen to, but even she could admit, Norina's voice was impressive.

"Incrociò in volo la freccia di un arciere lungo le coste di lava."

"Crap." Cara came up beside Val. "She's good."

"Yeah."

"I was hoping she wouldn't sound like that live. There's no way she won't win."

"Yeah."

"Coach will be pissed."

"Yeah." Val turned to see what Coach Falkner thought of Norina's performance, but couldn't find him right away. Looking around, she found him by the rigging system, doing something Val couldn't see. She frowned, and gasped when she realized. Coach Falkner was loosening one of the ropes. Val followed the rope with her eyes. It led to the lighting rig right above Norina's head.

The lights moved, and Val had no time to think. She ran out on stage and pushed Norina to the ground, landing on top of her. A second later, she heard the rig fall to the ground.

There were screams, gasps, people rushing to the stage. Val paid them no mind. She grabbed Norina's thighs through her dress and followed her legs down to her feet.

"Oh, good," she said, feeling weirdly light-headed. "You're okay."

"Val, you--" Norina's voice was shaky, her eyes wide with shock. "Your legs--"

Val frowned in confusion, and turned to see what Norina was staring at. 

"Oh, shit." Both her feet were trapped under the rig, and there was blood. She hadn't felt it right away, too worried about Norina, but now, the pain crashed over her in one big wave. Like seasickness. She turned back and planted her face against Norina's stomach. "I don't feel good," she said, and passed out.

*

When Val was eight, she started taking dance lessons at Coach Falkner's studio, along with a few other kids at the orphanage she lived at. It was clear from the start that she had talent, but her attendance was spotty, since the orphanage workers didn't see it as a high priority to get her there on time. When she was ten, Coach took things into his own hands, and became her foster parent, and later, her adoptive dad.

He was her coach first, and her dad last, but still, he had been the only adult in her life that had really cared about her in some way. So when the cops showed up at the hospital to ask about what had happened, she hadn't known what to say. She lied and said she couldn't remember.

What would happen now? No one had visited Val in the hospital--at least not while she was awake--so she didn't know what was going on with the crew. Was Coach mad at her? How mad would he be? Would he let her come home when she was discharged from the hospital?

She had one broken ankle that had needed surgery, and a hairline fracture in the other. She wouldn't be able to walk for weeks, let alone dance. Even if Coach wasn't pissed about Val ruining his murder attempt, she would still be useless as a dancer. And honestly, even if she had been perfectly fine, would she want to go back, knowing what Coach was capable of? Did this change things? It wasn't like she had believed he was a good man, but ... murder was at another level.

She watched bad daytime TV while her mind ran in circles without getting anywhere. It didn't take long before she started to feel like she was going a little insane. Bad enough that no one was visiting her, but couldn't they at least have dropped off her phone?

A couple days in, she was finally, finally distracted from her thoughts by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" she said when the person waited for a reply. Maybe it was Cara? Probably not Coach, Coach wouldn't knock.

With a huge bouquet of flowers in her hands, Norina came into the room. No fancy costume this time, just her hair in braids and the kind of makeup that didn't look like makeup but probably was makeup.

"Hi," Norina said. She glanced around the empty room. With no flowers or cards or anything, it was clear she was the first to visit. "I wanted to thank you. You saved my life."

"Oh, um. I wasn't really thinking," Val said, feeling awkward. After all, she was on Coach's crew. Even if she hadn't known what he was going to do, she still felt weird being thanked. "I mean--not that I regret it. I just ... I didn't know he was going to do that."

Norina put the flowers on the bedside table and sat in the chair next to the bed. "It still doesn't feel real," she said. "I just ... I don't understand. Why would he do something like that?"

Val sighed. "I knew he was going to be mad when I couldn't make you drop out. But not like this."

"This was all to win the competition?" Norina's voice was small.

"Not even that." Val frowned. "Wait, we didn't win, right? What happened after I passed out?"

"No one won," Norina said. "They cancelled the rest of the show and called the police."

"Yeah. So if he did it to win, it was a shit plan."

"I suppose it was." Norina chewed on her lower lip. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Oh, this?" Val shrugged with a grin. "Barely a scratch."

"No, it isn't. You're a dancer. Getting hurt could mean the end of your career." Norina reached into the flower bouquet and took out a card that she handed to Val. "My parents want to thank you for what you did too. If you need anything, if there's anything we can do to help, give us a call."

Val opened the card to find a generic get well message and a phone number. "Anything?"

Norina gave her a suspicious look. "Within reason, but yes. Anything related to your recovery and to getting your career back on track."

That was incredibly generous. Val wasn't sure she trusted it. She pouted. "So no lifetime supply of milkshakes from Rainbow House?"

"Is that really what you want?"

"I told you, their butter-rum is really good."

Norina rolled her eyes and pulled the card from Val's hands, wrote something down, and gave it back. "Text me when you're out of the hospital, and I'll buy you a milkshake."

"Will you have one too?"

"We'll make it a day I'm not performing."

[eliotbaum]

will you be listing your enamel pins for sale online? I'd love to purchase some!

Adding two more questions in a similar vein by @eli-era and @ultrainfinitequest :

There are plans for an online store for 2024, but it depends on some things (like new EU tax law & packaging regulations, boo). Fingers crossed it works out though!

[insidious-journalist]

[ mock ] - @kingsnake-drummer

Honestly, the trials weren’t all that bad.

They weren’t great, obviously. There was no getting used to having a meat hook shoved through your shoulder or the feeling of dying gruesomely only to come back again, and every moment of peace he felt a lang of loss for his snake. But really, other than that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Definitely beat retail.

This time Eli spotted that bone-white mask shrouded by a black hood, the figure crouching nearby to spy on him. He couldn’t help but grin. Scream was always one of his favorite horror franchises, and he was hopped up on adrenaline and a nearly finished generator.

“Like what ya see, Ghostie?” he taunted over his shoulder, flashing a smirk over at the killer. He flipped the last switch as the generator blared to life. Time to go!

A new survivor always brought a bit of interest to Danny, especially one this calm and casual about trials as a whole.

He's seen his fair share of confident survivors, namely when Leon and Jill arrived and even Gabriel had an air of seriousness to them. But this person didn't seem to be in their league, more like... Nea. Or Dwight. The casual common folk whose daily routine he mapped out back when he could watch the sun rise and didn't rub elbows with monstrosities. And so this match was a smidge less serious, although he didn't intend for everyone to live at all.

Maybe that's why he was staring from this distance, peeking out a little farther than he should. Intrigue. Curiosity. A curiosity that was fed by the smirk as the generator popped, and the Ghostface was left lagging behind a second too long. His shroud was still maintained and with the others recovering from a devastating bit of knife work, he set to chase Eli down with quiet footfalls and determination. Too casual. You don't just laugh in the face of death like that and live.

And so as Eli ran about he took advantage of the maintained shroud and took a detour, weaving through the loop at an odd angle to catch Eli off guard and once he got the man in his sights...

Pop.

His vision went red and his heart thumped, blood rushing as the newbie was exposed and he quickly lunged forward to jab the blade into his side to smack that smirk off his face.

[dlsintegration]

overwhelmed by the mountain of things i have to do tomorrow but had such a nice evening im not even that stressed over it

[lelelego]

hello it's the vulpes anon again . thank you for your condolences i appreciate it. however i think im going insane. the vulpes brainrot has been creeping on me and i fear i am powerless to stop it. which is very unfortunate because i still hate him and i think he's the worst and i kill him in every playthrough an d i absolutely agree that he's a cringefail little guy but that drawing. oooghhhgjh. it changed my brain chemistry. this is all your fault and i hate you (im fully kidding i love you and your art) the ao3 suggestion is a good idea but that would only fuel the rot so i think my best bet would be to block him everywhere and pray 2 every god ever that i don't fall into vulpes inculta fallout new vegas hell because that would be cringe of me

that's a good idea feel better soon anon 🙏 he is the worst here he is being mean to eli hope it can help your rehabilitation from vulpes brainrot

[appreciatingtokrev]

aaaa okay it’s been nearly a month but hi again guys 😭😭💕

the fight i had with my mom was resolved quickly luckily but idk it somehow turned into a social media break- but welp. here i am. wanna be active on here again n i’ll do my best for it to stay that way so yay lol

[hourcat]

Oh, are you doing a trick or treat thing? I hope it's not too late for me to join in! Trick or Treat! ^_^

TINA!!!! trick or TREAT bestie <3 it is NEVER too late

for you...i am going to unearth my eternally-unfinished hanahaki au....dj x eli....my last ties to nfl rpf rn </3

“Hi,” Eli says, sounding exactly the same as he always does. Daniel can picture him exactly like this, perched at his kitchen counter or on his couch or back at Quest, one hand clutched at his knee. “You alright?”

Daniel wants to laugh even though nothing over the past six hours has been funny. What the fuck does Eli think he’s going to say? “You probably know the answer,” he says flatly. It’s like Eli is pouring lemon juice on his open wound, keeping him locked in this one moment of the worst night of his professional life. He loves Eli, loves him hopelessly and earnestly and against his better judgment every single day, but right now he just—he just needs Eli to leave him alone, just needs to get home and unwind and spit up some gnarly looking flowers into his toilet until the unease in his chest settles.

Eli chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, I know.” He pauses. “Listen, I know you want to get out of there and everything—” he clears his throat, and even in this half-hearted irritation Daniel is feeling towards his mentor, the instinct to cling to whatever comes out of his mouth next is undeniable. “I just—I wanted to call and check in, and, y’know.” He clears his throat again. “Remind y’that I’ll always be here for you. You know?” He hesitates once more, although Daniel can’t fault him because, what? Any lingering frustration has dissolved in an instant. His head is practically spinning. “I’m in your corner, you can talk to me about anything. Especially—especially the football, since I’ve been around the block, but even outside of that—don’t let this eat you up, Danny.”

Danny.

The flowers inside him are thriving off of Eli’s words, how honest and gentle and kind they sound in his ear, he can tell. Daniel thought the cold of Green Bay had numbed everything inside of him but now it’s all fire inside, it’s every feeling all at once. “How am I supposed to do that?” He finally manages, voice coming out as a whisper. His throat feels scratchy with emotion—and with the greenery in him—and he knows it’s going to take a long time to recover from this, even with whatever Eli suggests to him next.

“Well, first, y’come talk to me. I’ve been there, I know exactly how y’feel—more than anyone else, I get it. And I know you, Daniel. I know how you work, how you prepare, and I know how you think. And you gotta know that this—” Daniel pictures him gesturing wildly, like he’s in front of a whiteboard drawing up plays. “—this ain’t your fault. I know you think it is, and y’re gonna keep thinking it is even though I’m tellin’ you it’s not, but it’s not.” There’s more emotion in his voice than Daniel has ever heard—passion, stress, understanding, care, kindness, all there littered in his words. “So you come talk to me, Danny, y’hear? I don’t care how often you need it, we can run it play by play ‘til I know you get it.”

Daniel doesn’t even realize he’s crying until it’s too late. “We just fell apart, E, I don’t—I just—” He can’t finish his sentence, grief seemingly closing his throat. I wasn’t good enough, how could I not have been good enough when everybody needed me most? He wants to say it. He wants to ask, and he really wants to keep listening to Eli tell him sweet (albeit untrue) things.

He wants to, but he can’t. Because it’s not grief that has him unable to breathe—it’s the Hanahaki. He coughs once, twice, to try and dislodge the blockage, but it seems like it’s bigger than it ever has been before, and it’s not—it’s not working—

“Daniel?” Eli asks, voice tinged in concern. If only he knew. “Daniel, what’s—are you alright?”

Daniel can’t answer. He keeps coughing, body desperately trying to purge the green from his body as he doubles over, but it just won’t budge. Again, again, again, back aching from the force, he coughs to clear his throat but nothing changes.

“Daniel?” Eli’s voice is fainter in his ear even though the phone hasn’t moved—or has it? The corners of his vision have begun to blur. He heave-coughs again, bending still further over to try and simplify the path for the blockage to tumble out into a mess on the wooden floor, but nothing comes up and he’s starting to get dizzy. The pain burning in his back is beginning to fade in time with the way his vision has started to lose focus. Is he still coughing? Daniel isn’t entirely sure. He’s not holding his phone anymore, either, which can’t be good, but he’s not sure where it went. Maybe he dropped it. I’ll just grab it, he thinks, and reaches out to feel for it, but the world spins and suddenly he’s on his back, staring up into the bright lights burning above him.

Like the stadium outside. Like the sun this morning. Like the light he used to hear about in church as a kid.

Daniel can’t hear anything anymore. Maybe his coughing spell has passed, he realizes hazily. It’s such an exhausting thing, to suffer from this kind of sickness—it always drains Daniel when he gets out from underneath the heavy foot of his Hanahaki. All it takes is a quick nap to right him, though—he’s so warm, it’s the perfect time to rest his eyes—

[contentment-of-cats]

Eli Vanto has a big ass, fight me

He's got the biggest, brownest ass in the galaxy. You can beat on it like bongos. It's so big that when he sits down he bounces twice. Jabba's sail barge is needed to get that boy's ass from one end of the room to the other. Greef Carga needs two droids to hold up his cape, Eli Vanto needs two droids to hold up his ass. You can put your coffee cup and bowl of cereal on that end-table booty of his, and it's so solid he can walk across the room without spilling a drop.

[idv-bungo-stray-dogs]

Aku, do you get along with the Seer? Since you two both have similar abilities!

Akutagawa: "I do not get along with him. Saying that I do is a step too far. Similar abilities does not mean anything."

[heytheredeann]

✨If you get this, someone thinks you are awesome!✨

✨Send this anon to 10 blogs that make you happy when you see them on your dash ✨

I'm sorry for answering late, this was SO nice to receive but I told myself "I will reply to it when I know I will also sit down and send the asks around" and then I just... didn't LOL

Thank you so much for sending this ;-; I'm so happy you enjoy seeing me on your dash ;-;