#inspired by the false knees comic

[dolorianwolf]

YOU - "Kim. Do you think we're friends in other universes too?"

SHIVERS - Two cats jump from chimney to chimney, one cleans soot off of the other's face. A willow sways gently next to her birch, their roots tangle together deep underground. Two boys chase each other through the woods with sticks held like swords. An elderly couple solves the day's crossword puzzle over cups of coffee.

KIM KITSURAGI - "That is a very far-fetched idea, detective. Let's focus on the here and now."

[4bsurdcreature]

I ended up going to a local Expo, and made some stickers for the event! This was my first time doing something like this, and I decided I wanted to make the stickers myself... which was a bad call since they ended up pretty flimsy (wrong paper, wrong printer, wrong almost everything). BUT! Now I know for next time c:

[sticktrix]

Friends

A short comic about two friends

Inspired by the crow comic from false knees

[psychoticen]

07.07.23 | Berlin How people’s perception can get you arrested

“What’s in a name?”, laments Juliet to her beloved Romeo in Shakespeare’s infamous play of the same name. That, if he were not a Montague and she a Capulet (in name), they would be perfect together. Unfortunately, the British Home Office does not agree. My aunt growing up as a teenager in the yuppie streets of Crouch End in the 1980s was investigated for a couple of months because of the greek (mis)spellings of her name. YEOPOULLA is not the same as GEORGINA. It seemed that the Home Office thought there might be two different people and that my grandparents had trafficked some rogue child, like out of the Greek film Eternity and a Day (there is a scene were the protagonist saves an Albanian child in Thessaloniki from being bought by people who want to illegally adopt children). She still lives in Crouch End where you can safely say that she is not being investigated at her grocery shop at M&S, but she did have to change her name via deed poll. 

Likewise, in January this year, Seán Binder, a German Irish rescue diver, and Sarah Mardini, a Syrian refugee behind Netflix’s The Swimmers, stood trial in Greece with the rescue NGO they volunteered at. While the Greek court rejected charges of espionage, they are still being investigated for human trafficking, money laundering and fraud, with a prosecutor recently appealing to reinstate the espionage charges. Seán explained that, at the time of his arrest, an article from local Greek media read “a German spy had been arrested in a military jeep trying to infiltrate a naval base to steal state secrets”. Unfortunately, Greco-German relations are still quite bitter. The whole fiasco could be compared to Nikos Perakis’s Sirens in the Aegean, a Greek satire that follows army soldiers assigned to guard a small rock island from Turkish troops. In the film, a Turkish boat is sent there for a modelling photo shoot, which results in several comic situations. At one point, the soldiers think someone is pretending to be a Kurd to get political asylum or that he might be a spy. Oxford Anthropologist, Ruben Andersson, has traced how the roots of “border security works much like what Sigmund Freud would call projection, the process by which repressed feelings are expelled from the self and located in another person or thing (i.e. an irregular migrant or asylum seeker)”. Maybe Seán and Sarah will be inspiration for a sequel before Perakis’s dies.

Many philosophers have tried to understand how one’s perception influences public policy. In the Phenomenology of Perception (1945), Maurice Merleau-Ponty defines phenomenology as a method of describing the nature of our perceptual contact with the world and argues that the ultimate source of meaning and value is lived experiencewith human consciousness always assigning meaning - true or false - to the world. Thus, there is always the intersubjectivity of a person (formed by their ‘cultural environment’) guiding every conscious action. For example, Journalist Anna Funder in her book Stasiland interviews former East Germans after the fall of the Berlin Wall. In Miriam’s story, who was arrested as a 16 year old for sticking up leaflets, she tried to escape to the West one night and got as far as the last wire at the border until the sirens set off. She was tortured via sleep deprivation because, although she had acted alone and decided to escape on a whim, the Stasi wanted to extract the name of the secret, underground organisation she was a part of. They simply could not understand how a “16 year old with no tools, training, or help could crawl across their anti-facist protective measure, including a dog, on her hands and knees”. So after 10 days on interrogation, Miriam cooked up a story using Goethe’s Faust as inspiration. Despite so many loopholes and inconsistencies, the Statsi believed it because they wanted a story. After sending his men to search for this organisation, the interrogator realised she was lying because she wanted to sleep. She got 1.5 years in Staurberg.

I’m still trying to figure out how to avoid the (mis)perceptions of others, while also working on my own. Turns out we cannot separate ourselves from our perceptions of the world and we’re all screwed.

[motivation-and-fitness]

Little bit NSFW language but this is cute and nice.

[kersficrecs]

Songs That Remind Me of Matt Murdock

I want to preface this with I chose songs that remind me of Matt, not necessarily anything that fits the show or the comics. Also this is the first of many playlists I’ve been making, if you have any characters you want to see a playlist for send me an ask on here or my main blog @kerstynn​

spotify link | apple music link

below the cut is each song in the playlist and the lyric(s) that make me think of him <3 (I will keep adding songs to the list and editing this post with new lyrics and songs; also if you have any suggestions of songs to add reply with them or send an ask and I’ll definitely check out the song - and probably add it to the playlist)

edit: I FORGOT TO SAY: if you want to use this for fic inspiration PLEASE DO I WANNA READ THEM ALL 💜

Date Posted: January 20th, 2022

Last Updated: January 20th, 2022

Sleep Alone // Waterparks

My face feels hot and blue my hands still count on you to let me down articulate and lonely enough for the two of us if you want, if you want to

TALK ME DOWN // Troye Sivan

And I wanna come home to you, but home is just a room full of my safest sounds. 'Cause you know that I can't trust myself with my 3:00 a.m. shadow I'd rather fuel a fantasy then deal with this alone

Hum Hallelujah // Fall Out Boy

So hum hallelujah just off the key of reason. I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light I know the irony here but my brain said ‘Matt <3′

Like Sin // Chase Coy

devil in a red dress breath on my skin, you smile like a saint but girl you hurt like sin

Look After You // The Fray

When I'm losing my control, the city spins around You're the only one who knows, you slow it down

Surround You // Echosmith 

Just crawl in my arms, oh, and I'll hold you beside me I want my love to surround you

Beating Heart Baby // Waterparks

Baby is this love for real? Let me in your arms to feel your beating heart, baby.

Crying Over It All // Waterparks

I want the fireworks I want the softest words I want what you deserve and to unlearn my hurt

Reckless // You Me At Six 

I'm the devil on your shoulder telling you that love is blind. It's ok when it's hiding in disguise

Clusterhug // I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Darling, you're a holy quarantine new romantic Philistine

Lights Go Down // I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME 

Oh Lord the thief of the year steal every heart from the boys that you're touching

Lucky People // Waterparks 

I'll be your optimistic black hole full of love I can't control let's keep each other safe from the world 

Silly Putty // Phem 

Get you on your knees, we could start our own prayer group. Shit, I kinda wanna marry you

Trade Mistakes // Panic! At the Disco 

I feel marooned in this body deserted, my organs can go on without me. You can't fly these wings. You can't sleep in this box with me.

State of Grace (Acoustic Version) (Taylor’s Version) // Taylor Swift 

And I never saw you coming; And I'll never be the same (yes I have jokes)

Cruel Summer // Taylor Swift 

And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? He looks up grinning like a devil

Line Without a Hook // Ricky Montgomery 

Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you I need you here to stay I broke all my bones that day I found you crying at the lake

Cabo // Ricky Montgomery

Ashes, ashes, dust to dust I think I found a place for us. It's down by garden after dark. It's in my arms, it's in my arms.

American Graffiti // Waterparks

Maybe the world was made in six days but I could ruin mine by Monday

Tell Her You Love Her // Echosmith

When she says she needs you tell her you need her too. You tell her clearly; Speak what your heart wants you to. Tell her she's lovely, always tell her the truth. When she says she loves you tell her you love her too.

Tags: (If you want to be tagged in future playlists just let me know!) @cressidaclearwood​ (btw I’m loving your false god series)

[kikiwhataboutthatbrendon]

Breathing Through Allium

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830425?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_401219202

The Revived AU, The Survivors of Death. This series was inspired by @navy-leader and their comic. This AU is the 'what if all cannon dead were revived' on the Dream SMP. I do hope you all will enjoy!

The void is more quiet than usual.

Wilbur, Tommy, Schlatt, and Mexican Dream haven't had the most eventful of days. Mexican Dream is nowhere to be found, Schlatt is staring into the void, clutching a bottle to his chest, while Tommy and Wilbur are talking, still catching up, despite the fact that Tommy has been dead for a week and hasn't stopped talking.

Tommy falls quiet to take a breath after finishing the story of what happened to L’manburg, the tired look on his face makes Wilbur smirk.

“Don't get too tired,” Wilbur warns him playfully, “it’d be a shame if you couldn't tell me more, you’ve only been talking for about seven days.”

Tommy scowls at him, yet the look holds no malice. “You're so annoying.” Tommy mutters, biting back a smile.

Schlatt whirls around, an incredulous look on his face at the statement. “Says you!” He exclaims, startling both Tommy and Wilbur. “You haven't shut the fuck up since you got here!”

Tommy and Wilbur share a look then burst out into laughter, much to Schlatt’s annoyance.

The void falls nearly silent, but it’s not uncomfortable, it's nice, and it’s broken by an ear shattering thunderclap followed by the unmistakable roar of a dragon. The occupants of the void startle, souls nearly leaping from their chests. Tommy snaps towards Wilbur, takes a breath, then is swallowed by the void without so much as a scream. Wilbur dives for him, and disappears just as Tommy did. Schlatt follows, and Mexican Dream last.

The void is silent as it always should be.

Dream stares at the book between his hands, a sick smile on his lips as a thunderclap rings through the SMP, his head tilts back as he takes a deep breath, his power running like lightning through his veins. His mask is nowhere to be seen, and it makes the smugness on his face clear as day. A portal to the void rips through the obsidian ceiling of the Dream’s prison cell. Dream stares at it, and his breath hitches as a form falls through it and crashes to the floor, followed by three others. He takes a step back, genuine fear sizing his body at the sight of who else he brought back.

Tommy groans, biting back a sob at the pain throbbing through his body. Wilbur’s chest spasms and his breathing stutters, trying to inhale past the pain burning through his abdomen. Schlatt sits up with a gag as soon as his back hits the floor, scrambling to the side as his body forces everything in his stomach up. Mexican Dream scoots away from Schlatt, holding a hand to his head as the world spins. He looks around the cell, confusion clouding his expression.

Dream meets his alter ego’s gaze, and Mexican Dream immediately gets on the defensive, despite the pain in his skull and chest, ignoring the bloodstain of a crossbow bolt on his chest. “¿Dónde estamos?" He growls, which gains the attention of Wilbur.

Wilbur glances behind himself then looks to where Mexican Dream is burning a hole through Dream’s skull. Wilbur stares at him, unmoving, as he sits up. The front of Wilbur’s sweater is stained a dark red, both his sweater and trench coat are singed, there's not a part of him that isn't covered in either dirt or soot. Blood drips from the corner of his lips and his head, Wilbur doesn't seem to notice.

Dream closes the book slowly, dropping it with a stutter, “I… I meant to only revive Tommy…” He says, voice catching when Schlatt spits and turns abruptly, amber rams eyes finding his gaze. The side of his head is bleeding, his suit is also covered in dirt, and there's a faint red smudge at the edge of his mouth.

Wilbur feels rage bubble up inside him, grip going white knuckled as he balls his fits. He lunges at Dream, fist coming down on his face with a sickening crack. Dream’s head snaps backwards and he stumbles to the floor, Wilbur doesn't hesitate to pin Dream with his weight and bring his fist down on the murderer again and again and again.

Schlatt scrambles to his feet and musters all the strength he can to pull Wilbur off of Dream, Mexican Dream leaps from his place on the floor to help Schlatt. Wilbur thrashes against them, yelling profanities while Tommy stares up at them, expression disbelieving and terrified between the sight of Dream writhing in pain and Wilbur’s freshly blood stained hands.

“Let go of me!” Wilbur hollers, still pulling against Schlatt and Mexican Dream.

“You're going to fucking kill him Will!” Schlatt shouts back, yanking them further away from Dream.

“He’s no use to you dead man!” Mexican Dream says hurriedly, casting a worried glance at Schlatt, not that he could see it beneath his mask.

“He killed my little brother!” Wilbur roars, seething at the man he’d beaten bloody.

Dream doesn't even move, the yelling and heat of the prison cell fading as he blacks out, body going limp.

Tommy swallows hard, his entire body aching, his fingers tangling in the bandages around his arms that are coming unraveled, revealing marred skin, scars, cuts, and bruises showing beneetheeth the blood stained cloth. Blood is dripping from his nose and head, getting into his eyes. Tommy whimpers as he forces himself to his knees, Wilbur’s voice loud in his ears. “Wilbur…” Tommy calls, casting a pleading look to the man who has yet to stop yelling.

Wilbur stops in the middle of a sentence, looking down on Tommy. He rips his arms from Schlatt and Mexican Dream with a glare, quickly crouching down to Tommy’s level. He’s still brimming with rage, but Tommy is more important to him than kicking Dream’s skull in.

“Hey,” He says softly, voice gravely from yelling, “I’m sorry for yelling, are you…” He trails off, staring at Tommy, noticing that it’s blaringly obvious that Tommy is not okay.

Tommy shakes his head, a few tears falling down his face as blood continues to get in his eyes from his busted forehead. Wilbur wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his side. Tommy flinches with his entire body at the pain that sparks across his skin. Wilbur cringes to himself and softens his voice, “Close your eyes,” He whispers, “it’ll eventually stop the stinging.”

Tommy does as Wilbur says. Wilbur looks up to Schlatt and Mexican Dream, opening his mouth to say something when the lava curtain to their right falls.

The lava falls to reveal Sam, he’s breathing heavily, having been summoned to the prison and sprinted to Dream’s cell when he heard yelling.

Wilbur curls around Tommy protectively and pulls his body to his chest. He sets his arms under Tommy’s knees and back then pushes himself to his feet, standing with Tommy secure in his arms. Tommy leans further into Wilbur’s chest, suppressing another whimper of pain.

Sam stares, speechless. Four people are standing before him, four people who should be dead, the kid he let die is in one of their arms.

“How…” He manages after a long silence, gaze fixed on Tommy, which Wilbur doesn't really appreciate.

Schlatt looks back to where Dream should have been, to tell Sam how, but his response dies on his lips.

Dream’s gone. - You can commission me for fics on my Patreon! :D

[gordonradiotv]

{ A summary of tonights chapter 9-12 Q&A stream!:

“You can interpret this however you want like I’m not gonna say this is canon, but I like to think Benrey and Gordon kissed a few times when they were teens but were really ‘haha no homo right’ about it”

Benrey “carries things he thinks are fragile with all four arms” which is why he would carry baby Joshua with all four arms

When Joshua was born Benrey immediately made the joke that Gordon named his kid after his friend Josh from Gamestop

Each character’s “worst flaw” goes as follows: -Gordon - His hero complex. Gordon’s want to protect others isn’t the issue, but the extent of which he takes it to is a huge fucking problem. He’s an Icarus and if he’s not too careful he’ll fly too close to the sun -Benrey - His pessimism, it’s the one thing that really stops him from completely climbing out of the rut he’s in and facing the things he’s most afraid of -Tommy - His inability to accept help from others. Tommy can handle a lot, but for that reason he thinks he can handle everything. He thinks he’s Atlas, and letting all his frustrations pent up like this won’t be pretty -Coomer - While not a coward by any means, Coomer’s biggest obstacle is fear. He attacked Gordon in the boss fight out of fear, he refused to tell Bubby this was a game out of fear, etc. Coomer has since decided he will no longer let fear hold him back- but how far is he willing to take that? -Bubby - His false pride. Bubby holds himself to such a high standard of perfection at all times, this means even the tiniest of mistakes are enough to bring him to his knees.

Tommy bashing in the skeletons skull in a fit of rage “wasn’t even a fraction of what Tommy lashing out looks like”

Yes the scene at the start of the chapter 12 comic pages was inspired by Lilo and Stitch

Tommy is biologically Gman’s son! And “You can decide if that’s because of mitosis or not I don’t want to discuss whether or not Gman fucks”

There was a VERY VERY EARLY ON DRAFT on GRTV where there would’ve been a mini-boss fight against Bubby. This is no longer the case though. I also wanted to do music for the Bubby boss fight and the song would’ve been called “Professor Inferno” if it had been made

Yes Benrey does the kneading thing- his alien species is very cat-like, turns out

You may get a TASTE of Gordon and Benrey’s history in the future but a lot of it is up to interpretation, have fun with it!

Gordon is a metalhead and can do a SCARILY GOOD screamo-music scream. He’s also good at singing and playing guitar!

“I dunno if this is canon or not but the thought that Benrey and Gordon had a shitty garage band in high school is very cute to me”

Gordon “grew up rough” and this will be explored more later down the line

I think that’s about it! }

[writer-and-artist27]

One Lostbelt King to Another

Summary: Scathach-Skadi came from a world that never saw an end and Humanity’s last hope dying alone. To see one of the creators of said worlds discard the Yaga as nothing while baiting a little one into becoming a murderer, she cannot stand for it. Not when said little one gave Skadi another meaning to the word “love.”

------------------------------

Note: Inspired by this comic and how Skadi came to my Chaldea back in Epic of Remnant. Roughly based on my experience going into the Grand Battle of Lostbelt 1, where Skadi and Achilles were the front-liners on my team to beat Anastasia, well... Writing this felt good.

And, hey, since I’m publishing this just when I finished Lostbelt 2 and finally ascended Skadi to her final form, I’d like to think this is a small thank you to the purple-haired Caster who came to Chaldea when she was needed the most. This is also based off of a headcanon that Leo had given me once, where my Skadi came to me before any version of me encountered the Lostbelts, so she saw a doomed future. Thus, this story happens.

For those not in the know, this oneshot is a distant sequel to all my previous Fate/Grand Order works, and giant spoiler warning for the ending of Lostbelt 1 and certain plot elements of Lostbelt 2. 

Dedicated to @withanina​, who’s seen me through my own journey in this very tumultuous mobile game. 

------------------------------

Patxi had fallen first, his snout buried in the snow and a smile stuck to his dead face. Blood was already staining the white snow red, and no one said anything except for the occasional sob from the Chaldean Master. 

It would’ve been the perfect time to strike.

But before anyone could say anything, a rune was already writing itself into the cold Russian air. Kadoc could faintly make out the purple shimmer that read destruction before Anastasia was being thrown back, and he felt himself scream before he could hear it.

“ANASTASIA!” 

He didn’t realize how painful it was to hold up his Command Spells for supporting his Servant until she appeared with a gust of cold wind in front of Humanity’s last Master.

It was supposed to be impossible.

Vy, a simple foolish girl who shouldn’t have amounted to anything, shouldn’t have had that Servant come to her aid. That Servant should have been in Ophelia’s Lostbelt over in Scandinavia. Not in Russia, not here. She shouldn’t have been helping a girl who was fighting for Proper Human History.

“You…” Anastasia was just as shocked too, if her wide eyes were any indication. “You are a Lostbelt King. You shouldn’t be here.”

Scathach-Skadi simply brushed some snow off her purple dress as Vy slowly stood up from her knees, tears in her eyes. “Skadi…sama?”

“Either I have lost my hearing or I must have heard something insignificant. Nonetheless, I am here.” Skadi turned her back on them and Kadoc grit his teeth. She was — she was underestimating Anastasia. She was underestimating him, Kadoc Zemlupus, as an opponent in favor of focusing on the weaker, crybaby Master. What was going on here? Why was she— 

Mash Kyrielight let out a shaky breath. “Skadi-san, you—” 

Skadi sighed. “Hm. You seem to have found yourself in another troubling situation, little one. Your shield maiden has certainly grown tired.” No one in the cold area missed how the Lostbelt Servant’s voice softened in Vy’s direction as she brushed her ponytail back past her shoulders. “Allow me to help you once more, especially in defeating an insect who dares call herself a Tsar.” 

“Insect...!?” Kadoc could see Anastasia bristle before he could feel it in his hands through her shoulders, and she clutched Viy to her chest. “How dare you call me an insect! You shouldn’t be fighting for Proper Human History!” 

“You certainly act like an insect, along with your pitiful sight of a Master, Tsaritza.” Skadi sighed again, reaching out to Vy with one hand to help bring her back to her feet and steady her. “How very much like a mere rat to not even know what you have follied in. To know I share a former title with you is now a burden of shame on my shoulders that I feel the great need to brush away.” Skadi then shook her head. The motion was almost like a mother disappointed with her child. “Who I side with is none of your business.”

Great. Another nutcase in Vy’s favor. 

A single tear rolled down Vy’s cheek as she continued to stare up at the Servant in front of her. What a fool. “Um… Skadi-sama?”

“Not that honorific, little one,” Skadi said without skipping a beat, briefly turning around to press one gentle hand against Vy’s head, patting her hair. Her voice had softened all over again. “‘-san’ is sufficient. ‘Skadi-san.’ Otherwise, please do not force yourself any more. You have done enough for now.”

“But— But I—” 

Kadoc felt himself go silent once Skadi reached over to press a soft kiss to the top of Vy’s hair. Kyrielight gasped, Kadoc felt bile start to climb up his throat. What the fuck am I seeing right now? 

Anastasia hugged Viy tighter to herself once Skadi stepped back, and by then, Kadoc could clearly make out the horrible, ugly red that stained Vy’s cheeks. “Sk-Skadi-san?”

“Good child. Now stand back.” The Lostbelt Servant smiled before slowly turning to meet Kadoc’s eyes. And, for the first time in his life, Kadoc felt a shiver travel up his spine. “I will handle this.”

If there was a descriptor for “godly bloodlust,” then perhaps the dictionaries in Lostbelt histories should have included Scathach-Skadi’s name. 

“You vile Crypter,” Skadi whispered vehemently, raising her wand. “How dare you traumatize one of my children and give so many others false hope.”

“False? How is it false when—”

“It is false when these lines of history are doomed to die, vermin,” Skadi hissed. Without a single ounce of hesitation, Skadi then pushed her ponytail back to write another rune in the air, clearly one that was Primordial, and Kadoc raised his hand without thinking. “To give the people of these Lostbelts false hope of living alone in victory is a crime deserving of divine punishment. You made all of us think we could live again in a miracle. But no. We were all doomed from the very beginning, even if the Trees of Emptiness grew, and you dared to make us believe that we could survive. You deserve far more than divine punishment.” 

Kadoc wasn’t expecting the newly made rune to go to Vy and Kyrielight of all people. He should’ve expected it, but for some reason, his legs couldn’t move. The Ortinax armor glowed a soft purple hue, accentuating the shock in Kyrielight’s eyes transforming into grim, fierce determination as she then ran to place her shield in front of her silent Master. “Senpai, please stay behind me. Everything will be alright, I-I promise. I’m here.” Kyrielight then threw her head towards the towering purple-haired Caster. “Skadi-san?”

“Shield maiden, protect the little one for me,” Skadi said softly, shaking her head. Her wand was raised, poised to write in the air again. “I have some insects I must swat.”

“R-Roger that, Skadi-san!” 

“…I don’t understand. My Master is doing the right thing in trying to raise the Tree of Emptiness and expanding our Russian Lostbelt. You should know this since you are — were a Lostbelt Servant, Scathach-Skadi.” Anastasia said finally, narrowing her eyes at the opposing queen. “You should know just as well as I do of the responsibility that comes with trying to prevail with our worlds.”

“Do not call me by that title when I have already lost my world,” Skadi snapped darkly, and this time, Anastasia stopped. Kadoc felt his blood freeze too because the Russian air seemed all the more colder. What did she just say? “I lost my subjects — my people, my Scandinavia — no thanks to you insects. Surtr destroyed everything with his flames and you Crypters did not even care in my reality. You left me — all of us — to die.” Skadi shook her head, waving her free hand to create the beginnings of a giant icicle behind her. “It was only when I lost everything to the flames that I found another chance. It was through my folly that I found this little one in the wreckage of Chaldea.” 

This time, Skadi didn’t turn back to meet Vy’s eyes. The fighting stance Skadi was in didn’t allow for that. Kadoc could easily read the emotions on Vy’s face, from the awe to surprise to tired resignation, and even then, there was a touched glimmer in those brown eyes behind the long brown hair and black glasses that had him reeling. 

“I had thought that I knew what it meant to love in that miracle of my Scandinavia. To kill and to love. But I was wrong. You all were wrong.” Skadi nodded to herself, closing her eyes as she turned back to face the battlefield. She pressed her free hand to her chest. “Love is to care for others outside of yourself. Love is asking what one can do to help, even when you are weak and unsure. Love is enjoying every day of life as it comes in the world. Love is—”

Selfless. 

“Love is making sea-salt ice cream together and laughing over the failures,” Skadi finished.

Kadoc blinked. Anastasia did too, lowering Viy. “…What?”

“Of course you two wouldn’t understand. You gave up your humanity just to make this long journey to validate your own selves. How pitiful.” Skadi wrote another few runes in the air with her wand, the purple glow accentuating the glare in her violet red eyes. The giant icicle behind her head seemed to grow all the more massive. “Making a nightmare of others’ lives, killing more than 7 billion people in reality, and then villainizing the one girl who is trying to give a form of salvation to all living this hell? Disgusting. Not even worth my time and love.” 

Kadoc bit the inside of his cheek enough to taste metal. “Why you—”

“That is enough, Skadi. Even if you are a former Lostbelt Servant, I will not tolerate you insulting my Master,” Anastasia interrupted, brushing her cape behind her. Viy was already emitting a dark aura. “You will all die here.”

“No,” Skadi smiled for the first time Kadoc had seen, and Kadoc grit his teeth once his eyes suddenly focused in on the green hair and orange scarf hovering behind the purple-haired mage. No way. “You both will perish under my heel. I am not the only one here to put you out of your misery.” 

No way.

Vy wasn’t supposed to be able to summon Heroic Spirits bordering on the powers of Gods. She wasn’t strong enough. 

So then— 

“Both our heels,” Achilles of Greece suddenly interrupted, and with that green spear shouldered between his neck and shining gold armor, the smirk on his face matched Skadi’s smile as he raised one fist in the air towards Kadoc’s direction. “Because you two did something worse than give people false hope.”

“Indeed, famous Hero of the Trojan War,” Skadi hummed, the Runes in front of her immediately flying over to the allied Rider, “they follied more than they thought.”

Achilles rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing Skadi in the side once the Runes stuck to his chest armor and disappeared, and Kadoc couldn’t believe his eyes. These two Servants — they were familiar? A Lostbelt Servant and a weak Servant from Proper Human History — they could be friendly? “Cut the cutesy language, Skadi. We know what we have to do.”

Vy gripped her hands behind all the Servants as her Command Spells glowed against her black Mystic Code, tears still in her eyes. 

“Of course. May you take the first blood, Achilles?” Skadi said softly. “Teach these insects how they could not have prevented the Incineration of Humanity with their follies.”

“Sure.” Achilles then grinned and leapt forward, and Kadoc found himself yelling out once the back end of that same green spear was nearly in his face if not for Anastasia. “You two jerks have a lot to answer for, y’know.” The words were said casually, almost too casually when considering the amount of strength being used to handle the spear so close to Kadoc’s person and Anastasia’s pained grunts under the weight. 

“I-I have no idea what you are prattling about, Hero,” Anastasia growled. “Viy—” 

“Oh? I’m wounded, miss Tsar.” Achilles then kicked Anastasia hard and Kadoc felt himself flying too once Anastasia collided with him. If not for the Russian winds and dodging the sudden ice projectile coming towards him, he might not have heard it.

“You hurt our Master. Our kind, workaholic Master who should’ve rested back at home with her family once Goetia disappeared. But instead of helping her, you took her home away from home in Chaldea and hurt Mash by killing the only familial figure she had left. So, what happens after this is simple.” Kadoc clutched Anastasia to his chest once they landed in the snow. Achilles then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Kadoc could feel the blood start to rush to his head once that chariot came with the fanfare of loud green lightning and horse neighing.

Noble Phantasm. Shit.

“You hurt our family, you die.” 

------------------------------

[Image Description: A screenshot of a team lineup in Fate/Grand Order, simply titled “Front Line.” The Servants in the lineup include, from left to right: Scathach Skadi, Achilles, Marie Antoinette, Chevalier d’Eon, and Mash Kyrielight in her Ortinax costume. End Description.]

This is the least I can do for the Servants who helped me through some of the hardest fights I’ve had emotionally. This isn’t a full replication of the team I used when going into fighting Kadoc and Anastasia, but the main players of Skadi, Mash, and Achilles are here at least. 

Let’s go save the world, everyone. Thank you for staying.

[kisilinramblings]

I'm trying to figure something out about the miracle box. I think you're very intelligent and would love to hear your input. The five miraculous (Fox, Turtle, butterfly, Bee, and Peacock) are meant to symbolize the five Chinese elements, Wood, Fire, Metal, Earth, and Water. Which Miraculous do you think is associated with which element and why? I'm currently doing some research but the process turned out to be much more difficult than I thought.

Ah yes, it is a theory I have seen around since S1 and while I believe there’s a part of truth in this, I don’t think Thomas and his team have strictly abide themselves to the Wuxing theory when conceptualizing the five second-tier Miraculous there, thus why it is so difficult to clearly define which of these Miraculous correspond to which elements.

I mean, let’s look at the concept history of the two main Miraculous. Their concept wasn’t rooted the yin and yang initially but instead around the concept of good and back luck which later was changed for Creation and Destruction. And since opposite and balance seemed to go hand in hand, then their duality got linked to the Yin and Yang. Which then influenced the rest when the Quantic Kids concept was dropped to become Miraculous. At least, from what I know.

But an influence is not limited to one nor set in stone. Let’s take a look of the lower and last tier of the Miracle Box. While we do have the Chinese zodiac Kwamis, the power inspirations we have seen so far are drawn from diverse international sources coming from any imagery, legends, myths, folklores, superstitions, symbolism, litterature, comics, animation, etc. Xuppu and Longg are heavily eastern inspired, but Fluff takes their inspiration from the White Rabbit character in Alice in Wonderland. And Sass comes from the Ouroboros. Kaalki herited the power of Teleportation because horses were used for transportation for a were long time in human history. 

So there are a lot of source of inspirations that can meddle here. Such why the fox, turtle, butterfly, bee and peacock as animal choice in the first place? 

Let’s take a look at Gabriel (or whoever his counterpart was) in the pv version. 

He has no mask, no superpower. His Miraculous appears to be non-existent at the time. But the image of the butterfly is heavily attached to him. It’s only later in conception his “animal” takes position in the Miracle Box. 

So, I don’t think they have picked a particular animal or superpower because it invoke the Wuxing. There might be some relations but I don’t think there are any strict correlation to the whole Wuxing symbolic. For example, some of the color associated to the five elements such of the black and white were changed as they were already taken by the yin and yang tier of the box. And the order of said “elements” was probably altered so their color was more harmonious to the eye. 

And it is perfectly normal as there a making a creative show aimed at children all around the world, not an academic essay or documentary about the Wuxing theory. 

Anyway, I’ll play. Let’s start with the Wuxing itself. Please note that I rely on the informations of two websites for this. One in English, another in French. I’ve picked those two websites as the informations seem well summarized and categorized. This is merely an exercice and I don’t want to read and summarize massive amount of texts.

So let’s begin.

First, we have the Wood. Parts of its concept go with Growth and Expansion as the seed sprout out of the earth and spread itself in the sky in every direction in order to flourish. Apparently, in martial arts, the technique related to that element is to get out of the way of the opponent’s attack line and cover the space as effectively as possible.

The virtue associated to it is Benevolence. 

Next, we have the Fire. It is related to Ascension as the flame is always rising, going upward. There is association to enthusiasm and passion as well. Anyway, for the Martial aspect, fire is associated to ascending movements as well as powerful and straightforward hits. 

Its virtue is Propriety aka “ the state or quality of conforming to conventionally accepted standards of behavior or morals. “

Following up, we have the Metal. When it solidies or cool down, the metal gets contracted, concentrating its strength for the next step. It symbolizes Ambition and Progress which come with Determination and Persistence. When it comes to martial arts, the attacking and blocking moves associated to metal travel from the outside to the inside. Incisive hit are also included as part of the metal phase. They look for and aimed at the foe’s weak spots to exploit it.

Its virtue is Righteousness

Moving on, we have the Water. It symbolizes the transition between action and rest. Martially, it goes with pacification and taking a step back. So descending movements and backing off take integral part of the battle strategy like the wave which retreats... before coming right back at you.

Its virtue is Wisdom.

Lastly, we have the Earth. Earth can be extremely maniable (like clay) just like it can be extremely well compacted making it impossible to work with it. It acts as a bridge, connecting different parts. Earth feeds and protects, thus why it is associated with nurturing and security qualities. It’s also a stable element and the martial movement inspired by earth are that : grounded, unwavering. Take the hit in order to chain up. 

Earth virtues are Fidelity and Honesty.

So, now that is is said, let’s proceed with how any of those elements (or should I say phases) matches with the Miraculous of the Miracle Box second tier which are :

The Butterfly - Power of Transmission

The Peacock - Power of Emotion

The Fox - Power of Illusion 

The Turtle - Power of Protection 

And the Bee - Power of Subjection (or Domination in French)

The Turtle seems the most obvious to me as it go easily with the Earh element. The power of Protection matches the fighting style described as Shelter is a defensive power perfect to take hits. 

The Butterfly seems to go well with the Wood element. Both are about growth.  its attended use is to give designated champion superpowers in order for them to fight back an oppressor for example. So, it gives the strength to the person to grow out of their weak stage (larvae) to become a more powerful and capable one person (butterfly). Also, the Power of Transmission requires a champion in order to work. Basically, the fundamental of the power goes with collaboration with another which help covers more than one front in battle. Thus why I think it fits with the Wood element the most. 

I am tempted to go with the Metal element for the Bee. The Bee Holder only need one move to paralyze their foe. One move to bring your foe on their knees. And a sting is a bit like a sword. Plus, a bee hive is a good visual metaphor of progress and determination. The bigger the hive is, the most work it has required from its occupants.

Which leaves us with the Fox and the Peacock. My first thought was to associate the Fox with the Fire element while the Peacock gets the Water one. Mostly because mirages are produced by heat and peacocks are birds that tend to live near clean bodies of water and are heavily associated to that element, but that’s not enough symbolic. Plus, when it comes to Power and their usage, I find there is more sense to reverse that attribution.

Fire and Emotions usually go in pair. How the Peacock Holder fight is by using an emotion and giving it shape. The sentimonster -- which is fully obedient to the one possessing the “amoked” object -- will attack directly and with brute force. The Peacock also apparently has a symbolic of immortality... just like the phoenix. 

The Fox Power of Illusion is more elusive. In battle, illusions buy time, distract and trick. And waters can be deceptive and give a false sense of security too. Thus why I think it fits more with that element. 

So yeah, not that sure about the last two, but overall, there you have it. 

[gofordrakgo]

slice of life, pregnancy, drakgo pleeeeease

Well! This took me awhile to get around to, but it’s finally written! I hope it proves to be worth the wait! Enjoy some drakgo fluff!

"Though her skin still beckoned his lips he resigned himself to kneading his knuckles along her spine the best he could in the somewhat awkward position, while they watched the snow falling over the ocean. “Does this count as their first snowfall?” Drew teased quietly."

The list - scrawled across an entire wall of the kitchen in variously colored erasable markers - had been thoroughly ingrained in his mind for weeks. He knew every possible choice by heart. That didn’t stop him from turning his attention to it as soon as he popped the homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven. Cradling a mixing bowl in one arm, he absentmindedly stirred the ingredients for the icing together as he stared at the list.

He knew they needed to make a decision, and soon, but he was as indecisive as ever. He just hoped that when the time came they would somehow instinctively know and that they wouldn’t end up regretting the decision later on.

Arms wrapping around his waist behind him pulled him out of his distracted stupor, and tension he hadn’t noticed faded as he relaxed into her.

“Good morning,” he greeted just before his wife’s hug loosened. Her hands traveled up to his shoulders, and then to his head where she pushed her fingers through his hair. A pleasant shiver coursed through him when her lips pressed against the nape of his neck.

Sometimes he missed his long hair and wished that his flower sprouted out of his arms instead, like that one popular arachnid comic book character. Then, perhaps, he wouldn’t have had to cut off his ponytail to stop the vines from tangling in it. When she was there, however, silently reminding him that she liked it the way it was, he forgot all about his petty regrets. Not to mention the fact that even though they had left villainy and begun using their proper names in conversation he really had no interest whatsoever in looking like a hero. Even if he technically was one. And even if he was quite proud of his accomplishment.

Stretching an arm out he let the bowl of frosting fall to the counter so he could turn and give her a proper kiss before she asked, “Have you narrowed it down any yet?” tilting her head toward the list behind him.

He shook his head and stepped away to take their breakfast out of the oven. “Have you?” he asked in turn as he frosted the piping hot cinnamon rolls.

She looked more than a little dismayed when she also had to shake her head. Her shoulders slumped. “Nope. Not even a little.”

“Well, we still have some time.” He was trying to be comforting, but he knew it wasn’t much use. The decision had been weighing on them for months.

“We might not, Drew. You never know.”

With a horrified sense of glee, he realized that she was right. A few weeks earlier than expected wouldn’t be too unusual. He practically collapsed to his knees in front of her and planted a kiss on her stomach. “You two better not even think of coming early. At least let us narrow it down a little first,” he quietly, almost jokingly, begged. She brushed her fingers through his hair again and for a brief moment his eyes fluttered shut and he let his head go limp against her palm.

Icing splattering against his glasses made him sputter and pull away.

“Those are–,” he cut off his warning at the sight of her raised eyebrow. Of course, she wouldn’t care at all that they were still hot. A breathy laugh left him as he stood to rinse his glasses in the sink.

He’d asked her once if she ever thought of the fact that it might hurt the babies to eat things that were still piping hot. Having a slice of homemade pizza hurled at his face fresh out of the oven was a good way of telling him to shut up, though speaking to a medical professional about it had been more helpful at reassuring him the babies would be fine.

“The twins like them,” she said, grabbing his hand to let him feel them kicking with all the giddiness as she had the first time they’d moved.

He grinned, drying his glasses off with his shirt. “I’m so proud.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck, dragging him into an unexpected kiss that tasted like cinnamon and sugar. When she stilled, leaving him delightfully breathless, she murmured, “Guess what?” against his lips.

He only managed to hum his acknowledgment, greedily focused on her touch and the feel of her lips on his to properly respond.

“It’s snowing,” she told him, turning her head as she pointed out the window above the kitchen sink. He took the opportunity to turn his desire fueled attention to her neck. For a moment that would have been too short if it had lasted hours, she held him close, letting out a content sigh that warmed him to his core. With a shuddery breath, she gently pushed him away. “Drew. Breakfast. Snow.” She was smiling at him as she said it, though her voice sounded serious.

“Drew… Shea,” he argued, gesturing to her. Before he could move back into her she stuffed a bite of cinnamon roll into his mouth. It was a bit conceited, he was sure, but he instantly let himself be distracted by how delicious it was.

He just managed to grab a roll for himself before she snapped up the whole tray and retreated into the living room with a wry grin. Staving off a smirk he trailed leisurely after her, shaking his head at the sight of her cross-legged on the ground in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. He paused to watch her for a moment, still flabbergasted nearly a year after he finally worked up the courage to tell her he loved her that, for some reason, she had decided she loved him too.

Snatching the blanket from the back of the couch on the way, despite how comfortably warm it was inside, he joined her on the floor. She settled herself between his legs almost immediately with her back pressed to his chest and her hands atop his over her stomach.

“I love you,” they synchronized.

She let out a low moan, muttering some complaint that her lower back was hurting, as it had been doing more and more frequently. Though her skin still beckoned his lips he resigned himself to kneading his knuckles along her spine the best he could in the somewhat awkward position, while they watched the snow falling over the ocean.

“Does this count as their first snowfall?” Drew teased quietly.

Shea snorted, shaking her head.“If they’re still inside my body, then no.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said, not at all surprised to find tears welling up in his eyes. He’d cried more in the months since he’d found out he was going to be a father than he had in all the years since the day he dropped out of college. Which, admittedly, had been far too many tears then. Until he’d met her. Someday…someday he would tell her she had been the one who inspired him to seek the world.

“I’d still like to have names for them,” she countered, rubbing her thumb in circles on his knee. “Even if we named one Petunia like your mother wanted.”

“She thinks she’s so funny,” he muttered. “ Oh, Drew,” he began mimicking his beloved mother in a falsely high pitched voice,  “how cute would it be to name a little girl after a flower, just like her daddy?”

Shea patted his knee. “We both know that’s not how that conversation went down… Drewbie.”

“Oh, haha,” he replied dryly. “Yes, she did call me Drewbie. But every other word was… um… Every other word was verbatim!”

“That’s a big word!” she just continued to mock. “And you even used it right! I’m so proud.”

“You know, if I didn’t love you as much as I do I’d—”

Shea snorted without letting him even finish his sentence, twisting in his arms as she shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

He managed to glare at her for an entire five seconds before his facade cracked and he grinned. “I really wouldn’t,” he agreed, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Her face softened, in a way he was slowly getting used to. “I love you too,” she murmured, although she didn’t really need to. Surprising though it was, he could practically feel how much she loved him when she smiled so warmly at him the way she was.

Just as they both leaned in for a kiss the loud ringing of what was meant to be an emergency phone interrupted them. With a sigh, he quickly pecked her lips then shot her an apologetic look as he clambered to his feet. She was still giving him that same soft look as he rushed across the room to answer, so he figured it may be safe to guess that she wasn’t upset with him.

Before he could even say hello, his mother’s shrill voice was crooning in his ear. “Have my two babies figured out names for their two babies yet?”

He sighed, mouthing, “It’s my mother,” to which Shea only smirked and directed her gaze back to the snow. Of course, she wasn’t surprised about who dared to call them so early in the morning. As much as he loved his mother, her once weekly phone calls had turned into more than three times a day since he’d told her about the twins and he was growing unfortunately tired of talking to her. It hadn’t helped that his mother spent the first three months yelling at him for not inviting her to the wedding. He didn’t dare to mention that they’d had it in a panic less than a day after they’d realized Shea was pregnant.

“Good morning, Mother,” he greeted as politely as possible despite his annoyance. “And no. We’re still trying to narrow it down. But we’re getting closer!” That was a lie, but he hoped that it would dissuade her from trying to give him any more suggestions.

It didn’t.

“What about Petunia?” she asked. He could picture the over-excited grin on her face as if she were standing right before him.

“Mother,” Drew sighed, not sure if he should be annoyed or worried that she was repeating herself. From the corner of his eye, he could see Shea attempting to get off the floor and he rushed back to her to give her a hand.

She smiled at him and popped the last bite of… the very last remaining cinnamon roll into his mouth while - unaffected by what he thought was an obvious lack of interest in her unhelpful suggestions - his mother continued, “Azalea?”

“Mother, please.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Shea whispered, and he couldn’t help but watch her as she walked away. He couldn’t resist smiling as he watched her drag her fingers through the tray, licking up any remaining trace of food and he reminded himself silently that he would have to try making them with strawberry icing for her.

“Marigold?” The squeal that followed made him jerk the phone from his ear and wince in pain. Rubbing his ringing ear he switched the phone to his other hand just in time to hear, “Oh, Drew, Mary Lipsky would be so cute!”

Exasperated beyond measure, he tore his gaze away from Shea’s backside and grumbled, “I am not naming my children after plants.”

“But they could be little twin flowers!”

Lying to his mother for the second time in one short phone call didn’t make him feel particularly good, but it didn’t stop him from pointedly claiming, “I think I hear Shea calling for me, Mother! I have to go now!”

He almost began to cry when even claiming his eight months pregnant wife was calling for him didn’t stop her. “If it’s a little boy you could name him Cedar! Or Cypress. Or Oleander!”

“It’s twins, Mother,” he reminded impatiently. “It might be two little boys. Goodbye!”

He really did feel bad for hanging up, cutting off her farewells, but he was too tired of listening to her incessant rambling to care too much.

Similarly to the way he had been not an hour earlier, Shea was staring at the list hard enough his head ached. “What were your mother’s suggestions this time?” she teased when she saw him walk into the room, and she twirled an uncapped marker between her fingers.

“They were all plant names.”

“Tell me anyway?”

After a moment of annoyed grumbling, he listed off the names, rolling his eyes when she added every single one to the list as if it weren’t tortuously long already. He sidled up behind her again, massaging down her back and hips before letting his hands rest lightly on her stomach, delighting in the slight movement beneath his palms as she continued to twirl the marker and glare at the wall.

He had let his head fall on her shoulder, his face nuzzled against her neck, and his eyes had begun fluttering shut by the time she whispered to him, “You know what? I kinda like Oleander, actually.”

“I do too,” he muttered against her skin, annoyed at himself for letting his mother get in his head. He’d been so confident that they would find names on their own, without anyone else’s help. “Little Olly... We’re not doing it.”

Shea laughed, presumably at how whiny he sounded, and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “Middle name?”

“That… could work,” he mused as he stood up straighter and moved to face her as they talked. “But we’re not telling my mother!”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you just going to keep our children’s names a secret? Oh don’t pout,” she added as his face fell. “You know I just want to kiss you when you do.”

Grinning, he rocked forward and landed a gentle kiss on her lips, happy to oblige anytime she even thought she might want a kiss from him.

“I kind of like Azalea for a middle name too,” she admitted as he pulled away.

“Well, fine,” he whined, gesturing wildly at the list. “But picking their middle names doesn’t help if they still don’t have first names!”

“How is it that the brilliant Doctor Drakken could name all those schemes and inventions, but now can’t even name his own children?”

He grunted and crossed his arms. “How is it that the great and powerful Shego could fight off teen heroes all day but now can’t even stand up off the floor on her own?”

“I’ve got two six-pound parasites growing in my stomach,” she laughed. “What’s your excuse?”

“Nngh– I love those parasites and their host too much to risk ruining their lives with names that don’t suit them!” He snapped his gaze back to the wall, glaring at the list with growing resentment. “I don’t want them to hate me,” he mumbled after a moment. “Giving them names that they grow up and get made fun of over would be the quickest way to get them to.”

“They’re never going to hate you, Drew,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be the best dad they could possibly have. Come on, let’s just forget this for a little while.”

Trying not to cry, he let her tug him to the door. “What are you doing?” he asked, giving her a watery smile and pushing his glasses aside to swipe at tears before they fell.

“We should enjoy the snow for a few minutes,” she explained, tugging her coat over her arms. She held up her boots to him, which he slid on her feet and laced up for her before getting himself ready to go outside as well.

“This might be our last childless snow,” he murmured while the two walked out into the haze of gently falling snowflakes. “And I can’t even throw snowballs at you.”

“The twins are on my snowball fight team as soon as they’re old enough!”

“Why do you get them both?”

“I just deserve it. You can have your flower help you.”

“It doesn’t like the cold!”

“Then I guess you’re just gonna lose.” She shrugged nonchalantly at him before turning her gaze up to the sky, opening her mouth to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

He really did love her. Which he supposed explained why he moved closer to whisper in her ear, “Wanna make a deal?”

“I don’t have a soul to sell. You know that.”

He laughed but shook his head. “Whoever picks the names for the twins gets them on their snowball fight team.”

“Oh,” Shea cackled, already turning on her heel. “You’re so on, nerdlinger.”

He followed after her as she walked back into the kitchen, and while she plopped herself down at the table to resume staring at the list, he made himself busy making hot cocoa moo with an extra splash of cinnamon in her mug.

“You know what?” he murmured, three cups of cocoa moo and two bags of popcorn later. His eyes burned and he felt like his brain had turned to liquid inside his head, from doing nothing more than thinking about the list for so long.

“Hmm?” came Shea’s sleepy response, half-asleep with her head on his shoulder.

“I think we should erase the list. Maybe we’ll just know what to name them when we see them. What if we decided on names and then we see our babies and they don’t look like a Rosie or a Cypress?”

“Tell you what, Doc,” she muttered. “I think that’s the first good baby name suggestion you’ve made in two months.”

Despite his objections to her statement, he made quick work of washing the list off the wall. As he turned back to her, a weight lifted off his shoulders despite the fact they never made a decision, he teased, “I suppose you were right, Shea. Lists are lame.”

[fauveshumankaiju]

uncle Ni...

He told Ni first.

Actually, he didn’t tell anyone at first. He threw up in the bathroom of the family practice clinic, then sat on the bench in front of the parking lot for an hour before driving to CVS to get mouthwash and splash some water on his face at the drinking fountain outside. After a little bit of vacillating he also grabbed some prenatal vitamins on the way out. If all else failed, he could always take them while not pregnant, after all. Baby vitamins probably wouldn’t hurt adult Rodan.

Then he sat at the beach for another hour, watching the water lap at the sand. It was fall and chilly and overcast, even in Monsuta, which was rarely properly cold.

He thought, for the first time in a while, about his own family. Wondered how they were doing, wherever they were. They didn’t seem to want to have a lot to do with him – he wondered if they would if they knew that he was involved with a foreign billionaire. He wondered if they knew how much he’d changed since he saw them last. Not that he particularly cared to find out.

One hand resting on his stomach, he stared up at the white sky and thought about what kind of a parent he’d make, if he ended up being one. It’d been a month, apparently; he couldn’t remember what he’d done in that past month, but he was a chemist. He handled all kinds of weird teratogens, he’d had a few glasses of wine, he definitely hadn’t taken his prenatal folate supplements. His brain was helpfully providing him with all the weird mutations he’d learned about in his undergrad intro to biochem courses, which really was NOT helping the anxiety. Of course he’d fuck this up before it even started.  How was he supposed to know he should be looking out for getting knocked up? He was a man, for god’s sakes, his anatomy was different from most, sure, but he dutifully stuck himself in the ass with a syringe once a month to claim the right to shave, sweat like a stuck hog and, oh, yeah, not get pregnant.  Turns out the last purported effect of hormones was false advertising.

After some more staring and shivering in misery, he went home.  Home being the Ghidorah’s apartment downtown – at least one of the brothers was bound to be there at any point in time and Rodan had a spare key if they weren’t. Ichi was usually flying around the world or in a conference call; Ni was in and out of town doing his own inscrutable work, but at least San might be there.

I can’t face San, he thought sickly as he locked his bike in the underground garage and keyed in to the elevator. He thought of San’s sharp, gentle face, the boyish joy on it when he found something new and interesting to play with. He would say whatever Rodan wanted him to say - even now that Rodan didn’t know what that would be. He’d bend over backwards to make Rodan happy even if it wasn’t what the Ghidorahs wanted. Rodan would say – “I wanna do this, high speed low drag, let’s have this baby and raise it and be domestic and shit, congrats on your new heir, I guess, I promise I didn’t do this intentionally to trap you and your rich powerful brothers into a relationship with me or something like that,” and San would be game. He could also say “I’m telling you this just to let you know, but there’s no way in hell that I’m gonna let this thing live rent-free in the body I spent my life trying to get, so it’s eviction time.” And San would be game for that, too.

San would be a pretty good dad, Rodan thought. Masochistic tendencies aside he was gentle and attentive to the things he wanted to keep safe.  He thought of the Dane bobbing a toddler on his knee while he watched cadaver dissection films and huffed in amusement.

The elevator up to the penthouse apartment had bizarre club-like lighting, low and purple-blue. It stuck out to him right now for some reason. Rodan studied himself in the elevator mirror as it dinged upwards. Small, lean, dressing nicer than he used to in black jeans and a bright button-down but still sporting his old red leather jacket and combat boots. He leaned in closer, staring himself in the eyes, evaluating. The face in the mirror looked back at him, brazen and daring.

30 and still sporting a mohawk. Bitching.  Didn’t look like much of a father, though.

Daddy, his mind (un)helpfully supplied.

The elevator opened and he let himself into the one door on the other side of the anteroom. Theirs was the only place on the top floor of the building; it had the best view of the city, the Monsuta bay arcing out into the distance through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, the glinting buildings on view in Ichi’s rarely-used bedroom. Rodan liked the view, but the building itself was always a little cold for his taste.

He kicked off his boots into the hall closet when he got in, jangling his keys as advance warning.

“I’m home!” he called. He’d been out for the past few days and staying overnight at his own apartment, since it was closer to work. San had been bothering him about moving in with them for weeks but Rodan liked to try to preserve this last vestige of independence while he still could �� the Ghidorahs were overgenerous with him, but life had always taught Rodan that other people’s kindness came with strings attached.

“On the couch,” Niels called from the long, flat couch in the living room.

Rodan dropped his shopping bag on the counter and joined the middle brother on the couch.  Ni was dressed in a devastatingly fashion-forward flightsuit, the top zipped down and tied about his waist over a sleeveless turtleneck. His eyes flicked upwards as Rodan collapsed onto the couch next to him – he didn’t respond, as usual.

“How’s it going?” Rodan ventured. It was hard to tell, with Ni, whether he was in a conversational mood, but it seemed rude not to greet him. Not that the middle Ghidorah ever had any compunction about that.

Ni was on his desk-sized tablet, surrounded by fabric swatches and upholstery books like a king holding a very strange patchwork court.  Peeking at the screen on his lap Rodan saw a collage of floor plans and schematics, probably for the Xilien apartment complex that was nearing completion on the south side of Monsuta. Once the building was done, Ni and San would get to work decorating while Ichi took care of the business side of the development business. Ichi didn’t talk about work at home, though, so Rodan’s familiarity with the corporation came mostly from watching Ni fling inspiration images across his tablet screen and fume over comically large paper architecture diagrams.

“Fine,” Ni tapped his pencil against his lips. “We are getting somewhere, finally.”

“Yeah?”

“M-hm. The issue with the climate control – it has all been sorted out. I’m going to start finishing the walls next week.”

“Wow, that’s a quick turnaround time for contracting.”

“Ech, there are only so many painting companies in this town, and they can only refuse so many of our generous offers.  Principles, money. No contest.” He sounded satisfied, which explained his unusually effusive mood.  After a second, he remembered politeness. “How are you?”

“Pregnant.”

“H-what?”

Rodan tapped himself on the stomach and smiled thinly.

Ni’s eyebrows shot up to his fringe. A moment. He cocked his head owlishly.  Rodan pursed his lips and nodded.

“How?”

“Are you asking about the mechanics? Because it’s like-“ Rodan made a circle with one thumb and forefinger and stuck the other pointer finger inside. “-you know..”

“Jesus kristus, stop that!”

“You do know something about sex, right? They had sex ed back in Denmark?”

Ni set his tablet briskly on the coffee table and collected himself for a second. Rodan almost had the good sense to be scared. Ni was normally restrained, cool and aloof, but this wasn’t a normal situation. This was a very Ni-will-lose-his-cool-and-get-real-scary situation.

“They don’t know about it yet,” Rodan supplied quickly. “I don’t know how to tell them. If. I tell them. I don’t need to, I could just take care of it on my own and it won’t be a problem. I thought that one of you should know about it, at least, so you can weigh in on it, since on a molecular level it’s technically genetically your kid too, so you have a say in what happens, and if you’re angry then at least I know Ichi definitely will be to so I can just figure out what to do based on what you do-“

Ni cut him off with a single finger and an icy stare. He’d pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head after rubbing his face.

“... You talk so much.”

“Yeah, bastard, I’m nervous.”

“You think that we’re going to be unhappy about it.”

Rodan exhaled and settled back into the couch. Damn uncomfortable piece of furniture. “Well, yeah. I’m not exactly-“ he gestured at himself “prime 1-percent relationship material.”

Ni didn’t respond, staring at him.

“Not that I think I’m less than you guys, obviously, it’s just – if you had the choice, you probably would have wanted to be tied down to someone else. Someone you could be seen out with and not worry about what some gossip site would say about you slumming with your trashy American boyfriend. Someone Ichi could take to dinner parties in Europe, someone who could take San out every night when he gets into his weird moods, someone you could trust.  And this whole thing is just going to tie you down to me, and then I’m going to…” let you down, he thought lamely.

Ni was still staring at him. Rodan swallowed and looked away with weak finality.

In one swift movement the Dane swung over to the far side of the couch, slamming one leg down over Rodan’s lap to straddle him and planting his hands on his shoulders, pushing him into the couch. Rodan cursed and tried to grab his arms to push him off but he got batted away. Fuck, he forgot how strong Ni was. All that construction and jiu jitsu. Well, if he had to die, this wasn’t the worst way to go, strangled by his lovers’ twin brother.

But Ni wasn’t trying to kill him, at least not right now. In fact, it felt almost like he was trying to be gentle, which felt as unnatural as his attempts at speaking Spanish sounded.  His grip was soft as he raised a hand, reaching out to touch Rodan’s face, before deciding against it and resting it on his shoulder again. Rodan let out the breath he was holding.

“If they find out, they are going to do everything in their power to convince you to keep them.”

“Why would they do that?” Rodan breathed. Ichi, he meant. San, he couldn’t imagine having a strong opinion on his potential fatherhood.

“Because they’re our blood,” Ni said slowly, looking down at Rodan’s chest. “The thing that separates us from the rest of the world, those crass dumb creatures that we have to deal with outside, is our blood. It ties us together. It makes us who we are.  It’s inescapable and irrefutable. And now you share that blood, too. You and the children you’d have are part of our family no matter what. You understand that, Rodan, yes? You are part of our family now. You are Ghidorah.”  He clapped Rodan’s cheeks in his hands, part slap and part affectionate tap, like he always did to San. “If you talk about yourself like you did I’ll get very angry with you. You are Ghidorah. Nobody insults Ghidorah, even a Ghidorah.”

“You’re not… mad?”

Ni shrugged, then made a circle with the fingers of one hand and stuck his other hand’s pointer finger in. “I don’t know what else I expected when this started happening.”

“Yeah, well, my bad. I didn’t do my research.”

“Neither did we.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Ni, you’re, like, 99% not the father.”

“Genetically, you said, I might as well be.”

“Well – yeah, you got me there.” Rodan sighed, feeling himself relax. Then, a little more seriously - “So what do you think I should do?”

Ni looked down at him, arms crossed, his face arranged into a carefully neutral mask. “Do whatever you like. Don’t worry about Ichi and San, though. Your children will want for nothing with us as their fathers.  Just don’t tell them about your having them right now unless you’re completely sure you want to have the children.”

“Children?” Rodan scoffed. “Plural? No way in hell I’m doing this again. If I’m doing this at all.”

“Oh, of course,” Ni said casually. “They’re going to be twins, at least.”

“Oh! Are they.”

“Yes. They’re Ghidorah.”

“That’s a pretty bold declaration, Doctor Niels.”

“And mark my words, it’s true. We always come in multiples.”  Ni swung off of Rodan’s lap and pushed himself back into his couch corner where he stretched himself over the armrest like a cat.  Rodan suddenly missed his weight and the spicy smell of his aftershave and he had to mentally slap himself down when he had the split-second urge to go crawl into Ni’s lap. He might be surprisingly cool with being an uncle, but that didn’t mean that Rodan could push the tenuous peace that he’d been trying to build since they’d met.

He rested his head on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Uncle Niels. He’d probably give the best presents.  Ni was up all night most nights anyway, he could feed the kid if they woke up. Probably not with the rest of the messy childcare business, but Rodan and San could probably take care of that, and Ni might even end up liking the kid once they were old enough to hold a conversation.

Oh, god, here he was thinking like he’d already made some kind of decision. What would Mothra do in this situation? She was the most has-her-shit-together person that he knew. She’d probably make a list of pros and cons, and then Goji would encourage her to stop thinking so hard about it and go with her gut, and then – yeah, not helpful.

Who was he kidding?  He was Rodan Rodan. He lived his life on the razor’s edge. He burned down a building and got himself tied up in a relationship with the violent-minded billionaires who owned it. Equations were for the lab, and even then, Rodan did his best work when he forgot about measurements and mathematics and went with his gut.  That’s what got him here, a priceless apartment in a beachside city with a job he loved and a life that never stopped being interesting and terrifying and beautiful. With three interesting and terrifying and beautiful partners who might consider staying with him here for a little while.

How do you feel, right now? He asked himself. Ni’s stylus tapped; the heating had turned on. Outside the clouds were boiling but the two of them were safe together, peaceful.

He didn’t know where he’d be in eight months, how he’d feel then, but right now? He smiled. He’d go with his gut.

[sternerstufftoys]

The Old One

As Blurr was 'The Fast One', so Kup is 'The Old One'. That's pretty much all he is, start to finish, A to Z. Kup is old, almost to the point of parody. In the days of G1 cartoons and Marvel comics he was already pitched as the oldest of all the Autobots, which was a) a bit of a shame for Ironhide who had already cornered the 'crotchety old geezer' market, but who cares I guess as he was dead by then, and b) rather an odd trait for a newcomer. But IDW managed to push his age into the realms of outright hyperbole, having him spend bazillions of years in alternate dimensions just to hammer home the fact that Kup is immeasurably, impossibly old. In a race that is effectively immortal anyway, this is somewhat redundant.

Still, in the season 3 cast, as with Blurr, Arcee, Perceptor and all the others, it helped him stand out. Being old was Kup's thing so that kids would be able to play out his character all the more easily. Most kids know at least a couple of old people, so Kup as a character was familiar and recognisable. Not like, for example, Bluestreak; if a 5-10 year old child can accurately and easily roleplay intense PTSD masked with false cheerfulness and bravado, then someone ought to be asking questions.

At first I wasn't sure what to make of Kup's Titans Return toy. As it came out of the packet it seemed a little lanky, a little tall for a cranky old geezer. But then, clumping the double guns onto his back like smokestacks (flip them around for a neat jetpack), hunching him over slightly and bending his knees a bit and... there he was. Grumpy as the day is long: my Kup.

Once again, Takara went out and did a fancier cartoon-accurate deco with rounder arms and a show-accurate face, but blech. Boring! Give me my weird shiny teal grandpa any day, his face all a-scowlin', his clumpy great fists a-clenched. As with Blurr, Hasbro aimed for the platonic ideal of Kup, rather than some guy off a dodgy 80s cartoon.

Happily, Kup's transformation is one of many in TR that just blows your socks off every time. While it doesn't quite reach the heady heights of Triggerhappy or Topspin, being largely based around manipulating thing panels, everything moves in fun, unexpected ways. The legs unfold and wrap around the side of the vehicle in a totally unique way, and the cockpit sits at an angle with everything still clipping together. And like the best Transformers, Kup is just as much fun in alt mode as robot.

I remember being highly sceptical of G1 Kup as a kid, despite not owning the toy. Both his name and vehicle mode just made no sense to me. Despite my brother's explanation that he was a picKUP truck, the alt mode was just a weird lump of nothing as far as I could tell. It looked half-finished, like there was supposed to be a trailer hanging off the back there. The TR toy is pretty much the same, so I'd be all ready to hate on it again... except for how the weapons mount at the back. With tiny pegs for Titan Masters to stand on, the truck bed becomes a battle-ready combat deck. It's inspiring, with guns facing backwards and operated by tiny little people, Kup's ready to engage in epic chase scenes while his buddies fire back at their pursuers. And yes, this makes Kup one of only a few TR toys that can interact with more than one Titan Master at once.

If I'm being finicky I guess I could complain that getting his own titan master to sit in the cockpit is a bit of an arseache, but this is a nitpick. Kup is a worthy addition to the cause, not graceful but a jolly good time. And if you're good, he might just sneak you an energon treat. Thanks grandpa!

[bulbasaur-propaganda]

Inspired by the dumb kids who think we only pick Bulbasaur for the difficulty setting and not for the appealing or stats. Bulbasaur isn’t even the Easy Mode (that’s Squirtle), and for some reason, it’s ok for them to pick Cyndaquil and the other fire starters who are considered the Easy mode, but pick Chikorita the hard mode of Gen2 and they will criticize you...

- comic artist is False Knees / Twitter.

[cannibalisticshadows]

Nightcall (1/2)

Inspired and named after the song “Nightcall” by Kavinsky 

Rating: T

Pairing: Megamind/Roxanne

Tags: Angst with a happy ending. 

Summary: Megamind can’t take it anymore. He has to tell her.

(ao3 link) | (part 2)

He’s sick.

It’s shameful how badly the words sit on his tongue, begging as if it’s life or death to be said. And it’s sick. So, so sick. Evil gods above, common sense screamed that everything about this was wrong on a million levels. Though “common sense” never applied to him much, this was a boundary even he was unwilling to cross. Their relationship was professional!

But how can he help it when he sees her walk away, hips swaying side to side like a metronome that seems to beat to his heart. He wants to cry out from the tugging at his soul the farther she is from him.

So, he supposes that’s why he’s always taking her. Mr. Tighty-Whities goes out and entertains hundreds of woman, but there’s only one woman that’s worth the effort.

These day’s he’s taking her more frequently. Half-assed schemes be damned, all he cares now is seeing her face again, right in front of him and not on television. To hear her voice being spoken just for him, tones low and seductive and just for him.

Temptress...

He can’t even...

He digs his fingernails into his palms so hard that even through the kid leather it hurts. He can feel it behind his gums, unsoothable even with his own tongue, which drools with the mere thought of being allowed to touch her in the most chase of ways.

The need to have her to himself has become overpowering. He writes out absurdly poor or well-thought-out plans just for the sake of telling Minion to fetch Ms. Ritchi. Once every-other week has become weekly.

Weekly incidents have become twice, or even thrice, a week.

“Are you okay?” She asks suddenly, tied to her chair and being quieter than usual. No. No that’s not right. She’s supposed to be talking about the plan. Taunting him. Bantering with him. Why isn’t she!? "You kinda seem... tired."

He nervously runs his hands down the crappy built control system of today’s Evil Scheme. It’s cold here, biting at his exposed skin, but the heat of his desperate, sick want keeps him heated. Bitting into his lower lip, he hunches over the buttons and knobs with his back turned to her. But he watches her from the little mirror he put beside him.

“I am ecstatic,” he says with false, half-mad cheer. “Today is the day Metro Man will die.”

“Wow,” she says mildly. She pauses. “Never hear a death threat before.” Despite her tone they both know it’s true. He usually says defeat. Is she frightened for once? Nowadays he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He bites harder, this time on the tip of his tongue.

He tastes metallic, and it burns his throat.

“Just shut up and be a damsel for once?” He sneers, baring his teeth and turning around to show her. He’s angry at himself, not her.

But it makes Roxanne jolt in her seat, comically surprised. Then she goes still, eyes wide with... Something. He can't read her. Always guessing, with her. She doesn’t respond, but shrinks a bit in her chair, glowering at him with suspicion.

It’s a weird feeling to drawl out this reaction from her.

~.~.~

He’s becoming more desperate to help his vice. Withdrawal starts the second Wayne throws him into prison, keeping him quiet and brewing over the duration of his stay. The guards notice; they steer clear of him.

No one is surprised when he breaks out not twenty-four hours later, snarling at the one puny guard who dares to raise a gun at him when he comes charging out.

Minion, barely given the warning he’s breaking out on his own, manages to catch him a few miles away from the prison he’s running from.

He’s sick. Still sick. Still wants to barrel himself through this confusing life with the little bits of the drug that’s pretty much the only thing keeping him afloat. An unquenchable hunger that has nothing to do with food, and it gnaws at him like a flesh-eating parasite. And it’s so, so wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. Shouldn’t be physically shaking everything she moans his name in tiredness at yet another kidnapping. Shouldn’t be crying into his pillow at night because he wants to hear her voice outside of the television.

Kidnappings are more frequent. At the third kidnapping this week, Roxanne is barely awake which slightly pisses him off. This is a two-person job. He can’t just broadcast their trysts with her snoozing!!! He wants to grab this little woman by the shoulders and shake her—gently—because he just wants to talk to her.

Curse his alien psychology. Because he damn well knows what is happening to him. He knows why he’s resorted to spending more time in his room, biting at his own flesh because he can’t have what he wants. No. What he needs. Minion is starting to catch on, a bit, and Megamind cannot let that happen. No. No he doesn’t feel anything more than an annoyance for Ms. Ritchi, Minion! I am not falling into the same cycle my ancestors did!

He has to convince himself that his tone is somewhat convincing. Because it isn’t.

Tonight he’s determined to do it better. Today’s kidnapping ended before it even began, thanks to a sloppily build machine. It ended with a bitter, nasty remark at her choice in dress. He feels like a boy on schoolgrounds, tugging at the cute girl’s hair to get her attention.

But anyway. He fixed the machine and he demands a do-over. Tonight. At this very moment.

She’s at home, according to one of his spy-bots. not gonna admit that he’s so wretched over his own alien heart he’s started to spy on her in an indirect way.

He’s already on his hoverbike, because Minion, bless him, finally passed out from being worked too hard. He’s getting really close to Roxanne’s place when—

“Oh, no you don’t,” says a disapproving, gruff voice.

Snatched out of the air, his bike’s handles caught in the same beefy hands used to grab his collar, Megamind finds himself dangling and flailing his limbs.

Fucking Wayne. Fucking fucking fucking Wayne. What does he have to do at this time of night around Roxanne’s place, the bloody creep.

Oh. No. Megamind’s the creep, he viciously realizes, eyes ablaze with fury. Wayne’s the perfect boyfriend. Fuck him, Megamind weeps internally.

“Listen, little buddy,” the meat-head starts, pissing off the other alien even more. “You’ve kidnapped Roxie four times this week. What’s your problem?”

“You are my problem,” he hisses vehemently. “Let go!”

“No,” Wayne sighed, flying off closer to her apartment. Still spitting curses, but also rather confused, because why bring him to his destination when he was usually dropped off at the prison when caught? “You need to see this.”

Wayne drops him on the balcony without delicacy, making Megamind hand on his side with the air sucked out of him. Huffing, he stands and wipes dust off him. He breathes in, catching the faint vegetation scent of her potted plants.

His long-time enemy lands beside him on his white-clad toes, staring inside of the glass doors. Peeved, he meets where his gaze lands.

It’s Roxanne. Yes, she is home, and not at all conscious.

She’s still dressed in the same outfit from earlier; a sleeveless, deep wine-red—almost black—dress that flared at the knees, hugging her hips and derrière like a godforsaken glove. She looked good enough to drink. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, earlier,

That could have been a terrible, terrible tease if she hadn’t spent the duration of their short encounter today falling asleep. Why was she so tired lately?

She’s conked out on her red couch, one leg hiked up over the back of the couch, the other hanging off with her heal barely hanging onto her big toe. Her hair is completely disheveled, her mouth parted open as she drools slightly onto the couch’s fabric. One of her arms is curled up behind her hair, with the other hanging off the side of the couch.

And with that hand she’s gripping onto a bottle of wine. Her mascara has smeared down her face like black veins.

“You need to back off a bit,” Wayne said, his heroism voice gone and replaced with something that actually sounded human. It made things a hundred times worse because Megamind knew what his problem was.

He stood and stared at his poor Roxanne. Why. What the fuck is wrong with him!?

Wayne grabbed him by the collar before he could linger another moment, and he’s being thrown back into prison, to the bewilderment of the Warden. Can’t blame the old man; everyone could see Megamind was finally losing his marbles. He could see the thoughts in their eyes.

But as he sat in his cell, the tv on but muted, familiar orange jumpsuit scratchy against his sensitive blue skin, he thought over this hell of a month. He was sick of this. Sick of his wretched alien secret of this… need.

It should be below him. It should be abolished from his DNA; a trait his pre-evolved ancestors needed for… things. He was a scientist; an evil genius; a lone wolf. He shouldn’t be made weak by the simple, kind smile of a blue-eyed reporter.

Yet he was.

And he knew what he had to do.

Before it destroyed him.

[mantlehold]

* REGINA’S VERSES.

( more details above. )

riverdale verse (pre / post timejump) — canon divergent portrayal. takes elements from s1, s2 and minor from s3; the rest is canon divergent. post timejump regina does not take over the car dealership from her father but she sells it off and cuts off contact from her father. retires from her professional football career due to a knee injury and returns to her brief modelling career before moving back to riverdale to take care of her mother.

archie comics verse — takes elements from new riverdale (2015) and reggie and me. still a work in progress. but regina is at times a little toned down than her counterpart reggie who is a little more over the top and vicious compared to her and she isn’t as insanely jealous as reggie is as she sees it as pointless and she doesn’t sabotage moose and midge’s relationship despite having a massive crush on midge. but she is still just as chaotic and retains her thrill seeking, trouble making and flirty qualities and hidden depths of kindness. like in the comics, she is neglected and ignored by her parents, especially her father.

the hunger / vampronica verse  — inspiration from jughead: the hunger and vampronica comics. reggie in the vampronica comic was turned into a moroi vampire by ivan, a strigoi vampire so naturally, this will apply to regina. regina, now a moroi vampire is struggling to adapt to her vamprisim and thirst for blood and refuses to drink from her fellow townsfolk, sneaking into the local hospital to steal bloodbags so she can satiate her thirst. she also parties a lot more to deal with this and her life at home.

fandomless verse  — a college student or a working model who isn’t as much as a party animal as she was back in high school. she’s either studying her gender studies major or is travelling all over the globe for her modelling shoots. she’s very sociable and friendly but still closed off emotionally.

famous / actress verse — kang hye rin. an actress and model who goes by ‘regina’ for her stage name, she keeps her private life separate from her public persona and life. known as an up and coming sapphic icon on the big and sliver screen with a charismatic and flirty personality, she has been rumoured to be a womaniser by the tabloids (which is false).

gumiho/kumiho verse  — a mischievous nine tailed fox from the myths who can transform into a young women, mainly to seduce men and eat their hearts/or livers. and regina mainly does this to men who have committed crimes against women, children and the vulnerable. she has a very ‘detached to life’ quality to her and doesn’t exactly care about humans and their morals; but she does occasionally get attached to women and fools around here and there aka sleeping around without getting attached in fear of feeling more ‘human’ if she pursued anything romantic.

drummer / band!au verse  — drummer of the indie rock band ‘vampire panic’ and occasional vocalist. streams on twitch in her spare time when the band isn’t going on tour or writing music together when a new album is coming up.