#its so useless though i started it cause it was fun and i could do it as a uni elective but now honestly the only use id get often

[beneaththebloodylake]

i wonder if i can just not play the rest of the ace attorney games in english. itd take ages but if i finish the first one and then maybe one more in japanese that ive already done i might have enough comprehension to play the ones i havent played at all without losing too much. like i want to be able to pick up on all the nuances of characters and themes which i couldnt now but honestly this way might be better than continually getting pissed off at the translation choices

[celiastjamesoscar]

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)

The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.

Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.

You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”

You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.

The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.

Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.

As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.

As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.

“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.

“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.

“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.

When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.

Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.

Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to your piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, your favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.

You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to you, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.

Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.

Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.

The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.

You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.

So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.

When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.

The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but you could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”

“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.

At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: you.

At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.

You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.

Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”

You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”

You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.

Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.

“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”

Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.

It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.

She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.

“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.

“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.

“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.

The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her arms, trying her best to fight back tears.

Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.

The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.

The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.

You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by you.

“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.

Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.

When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.

School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.

Your rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.

Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.

Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.

“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.

Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.

“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”

“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.

“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.

The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.

The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.

“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.

“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.

Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.

Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.

“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.

All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.

You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.

“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.

“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.

Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between your fingertips as if your souls were communicating through the simple touch. You both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding your minds as you looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.

Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”

Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.

“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.

Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.

“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.

“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.

As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.

When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”

Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.

“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”

At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.

“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.

“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!” Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.

“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.

You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.

You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.

“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.

After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.

“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’

When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing you.

Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”

The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.

“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you caused her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.

Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.

“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.

Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”

“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.

“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.

“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.

Your moves were swift and calculated, your attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.

Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.

As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and your footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.

Neither competitor gave an inch, your faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.

With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.

“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.

“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”

Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.

Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.

“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.

“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.

“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.

At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.

“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.

You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.

After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”

Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.

Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.

You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.

“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”

A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”

“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.

Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.

“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.

“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”

Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”

At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.

“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.

“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’

Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.

“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.

“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.

When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.

You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.

Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.

“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.

Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.

The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.

“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.

When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.

“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.

“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.

Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.

After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.

On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.

“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.

“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.

As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.

As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.

You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.

The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.

When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.

“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.

“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.

Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”

You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.

“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.

Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.

It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.

It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.

Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.

The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”

The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.

A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.

Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.

The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.

“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”

The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.

As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.

“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

I want to make it a night like it used to be

“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.

“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.

She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”

You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.

So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.

You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.

She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.

But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.

“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.

You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.

Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”

The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.

“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.

“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.

“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.

“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”

Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.

You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.

The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”

Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.

Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶

[bonefall]

So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!

A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?

B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?

C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?

(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)

AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.

While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.

I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.

...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.

I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.

You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.

So... Warrior Cats Misogyny

I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.

Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.

It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,

Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)

Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)

Misty (killed for land, children stolen)

Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)

Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)

Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)

Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)

Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)

Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)

Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")

Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.

"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."

It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).

It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.

It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).

It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.

You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,

That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,

Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.

LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.

So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.

Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,

"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot

He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.

[mclarengf]

thinking about… max verstappen taking care of you when you’re drunk

note: this blurb came to me as i was taking my makeup off after my bday celebrations yesterday and then i was like ‘good golly, imagine if i had a hot f1 bf here with me rn’ and at first i thought alex but thats soooo obvious so here’s wee maxypoos

---

you’re really drunk. max is well aware of this fact.

the two of you are halfway up the stairs. your arm is slung across max’s back; he is holding your heels in one hand and supporting you with the other.

he’d offered to swap shoes with you properly, eyeing your heels in the club and stating that he could probably fit in them. max is also drunk, of course, but he’s higher-functioning than you, which is why he’s in charge now.

it’s your birthday though, and max isn’t one to prematurely put an end to your celebrations, or let you wake up the next day complaining about your drunken uselessness, so actually, half the blame is on him too.

jimmy meows at you both condescendingly as you pass him, sat in front of your bedroom door. sassy had greeted you when you first came stumbling into the house, then ran off to avoid being trod on accidentally.

when you arrive in the bathroom, max sits you on the edge of the tub, trusting you enough to at least keep your balance here.

he pulls open the drawer under the sink and you hear bottles clink as they’re turned and fiddled with, max trying to read each label.

��here, close your eyes.”

he finally turns around with a wet cotton pad in his hand, pushing his sleeves up as he steps towards you. drunk you still has enough wits to have doubts about max’s capabilities, but you’re so tired, and it’ll probably still be easier for him to fuck up and then fix it, than for you to poke your eye out cause you fell asleep halfway through wiping off your mascara.

when he finally presses the cotton pad to your skin, he’s gentler than you’d expected. his thumb pushes your eyebrow up to pull your eyelid tauter so your makeup remover doesn’t find its way into your eyeball, and he’s quick to catch any drips that do potentially threaten your vision.

once he’s done with that eye, he moves onto the other, repeating each step just as carefully as before, slow movements picking up all the eye makeup he had watched you apply only a couple hours earlier. you don’t know if max realises, but he’s singing something under his breath as he goes. it’s really nice, a comforting tune. you must have heard it before somewhere, but your drunk mind doesn’t entirely care enough to dwell on the question.

you hum at him when he asks if you’re still awake, and tell him not to bother with trying to replicate your whole nighttime routine, because all you want now is sleep.

he finishes your pampering by misting your face lightly and holding your chin up as he applies your lip balm, “all done, schatje.”

“thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning up towards him for a kiss, “mm, love you so much.”

max decides to leave your shoes in the bathroom to be tomorrow’s problem, and leads you back to your bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot. jimmy’s already slipped in through the crack; turning the ceiling light on reveals he’s found a new hiding spot on top of the dresser.

he’s happy to unzip you and help you step out of your dress, and even happier to see you pull one of his shirts over your head to sleep in. max loves all the small things that show you’re his; wearing his clothes, driving his cars, trusting him to always get you home safely.

“did you have fun today?” he asks, once you’re both in bed and he’s reaching over to turn the light off.

you nod sleepily.

“thank you for surprising me. that was really nice of you, maxie.”

he wraps an arm around you and settles your head on his chest. your legs are twisted together underneath the sheets, as they always are; his free hand starts running through your hair absentmindedly.

“did you see when daniel was dancing on the table? it was very funny. i will show you the video tomorrow,” he promises, “and then we can make fun of him together.”

max’s lisp is more prominent when he’s had a few, all his sibilants bunching up at the front of his mouth. you tell him this, semi-coherently.

he laughs, and then whispers for you to go to sleep.

“happy birthday, liefje.”

[barrysheoghan]

okay i was on the train zoning out when this scenario came up in my mind....... toxic!felix enthusiasts where you all at???

(sorry for any mistakes or incoherences, feel free to correct anything that seems wrong)

— cattonquick modern au where felix is very jealous and violent

ollie works at some bookselling place even though felix told him he didnt have to cause he's rich and he can provide for his boyfie yk. but ollie wants to do something productive during the day and he loves books so.... anyway, one night he asks felix if he can come pick him up since his shift ends quite late and felix obviously agrees cause he gets to show off his big expensive car and impress ollie's colleagues (of whom hes been jealous ever since ollie started mentioning having fun at work etc etc, especially of that one guy with whom ollie chats sometimes via text. yes, he regularly looks into ollie's phone, so what? thats what couples do.).

its 9:30pm, felix is right on time, parked in front of ollie's workplace, waiting. minutes go by and soon its 10pm and still no ollie in sight. they should have been home by now. one thing about felix : he hates waiting. and ollie's supposed to know that. he turns up the volume of the music he was listening to to match the anger that's quickly building up in his chest, making him sigh repeatedly, tap on the wheel and furiously chew on his nails. he also wants to make his presence known and hopes the loud noise will somehow make ollie get out faster.

what is he doing, for fuck sake. he grabs his phone and opens up his text message app, immediately landing on him and ollie's convo. he never replies to anyone else's texts so...

"Its been 30mins. Where are you?"

about five minutes later, the door opens up and ollie is finally out. felix stares, assuming he's going to rush to his car and apologize for being so late but, no, he lingers by the door. in fact, he's holding that door, clearly waiting for someone. soon enough, a silhouette appears and closes the shop after them. ollie stands there the whole time, waiting like a puppy, and felix can't believe his fucking eyes. he's literally fuming, his brain making up the worst scenarios of why ollie could possibly be late. and of course it involves him getting railed by his coworker.

ollie finally notices felix's car and jogs towards it. he opens up the passenger door and frowns at the loud music. felix thinks he's gonna get in quickly but he doesn't seem to want to leave. he slowly turns down the volume, not looking at ollie for one sec.

"hey! sorry im late! we were just gonna go to that one bar down the street. wanna come?" ollie says, a smile on his face, completely clueless.

"get in the fucking car." felix's voice is at its lowest pitch. he's trying to stay in control but his hands, so tightly clenched around the wheel, show that he's struggling to keep it together.

"what.... whats going on, felix?"

"don't make me say it again."

ollie gulps. felix is mad, and it doesn't look like one of his usual tantrums. he knows he should keep it low and do as he's told but he's had such a great day and he just doesn't want it to end! maybe he can get felix to calm down? he softens his tone.

"come on babe... let's go out! we'll have fun!" he leans in to put his hand on felix's arm, gently squeezing it.

the next second, he's forced into the car. felix's hand cups his cheeks, but not in a cute loving way. he's practically crushing ollie's jaw between his fingers. ollie's glasses have fallen somewhere on the car's floor and he can feel panic take over him. panic and........ some other tickling sensation he's quite fond of.

"you're hurting me-"

"shut the fuck up, ollie. shut your stupid fucking mouth. I've been waiting for your useless ass for half an hour and you think you can just come up to me all bubbly and nice and ask if i want to go have fun with you and some bitch who clearly wants to fuck you?" he's now yelling right in his face. "you wanna have fun? we'll have fun. just the two of us. at home."

he lets go of his face and reaches to close the door on ollie's side. his coworker is just standing there and watching them, looking really concerned.

"and don't you dare look at him. i'll break your nose and slaughter him." felix threatens, turning on the engine.

on the ride back home, ollie tries to make himself as small as possible, keeping his head down, shoulders in and, of course, squeezing his legs very, very tight. he has a vague idea of what's waiting for him once they get home and, boy, it's exciting.

the next day, he comes to work to hand in his resignation letter.

[pinazee]

Black and Tan: A Crime of Fashion

The MELANIE LYNSKY episode! (Or at least thats what i call it. upon seeing her on screen for 0.2 seconds i knew she was going to get pretty big. She’s such a phenomenal actress.) I honestly lowkey shipped her with shawn. She was so sweet and i feel like it brought out some of the sweet in shawn too. Shes also a character i wish would come back one day, like they do a murder mystery movie and they’re on her yacht or something idk shes really good friends with them all still, they could make it happen :)

Lassie has given up. He has resigned himself to his fate that Shawn will always be up in his shit for the rest of eternity.

LOOK HOW MUCH FUN DULÉ IS HAVING HERE! OHMYGOD HE FUCKING KILLED ME IN THIS EP!

why am i surprised he knows the name of the model in downtown Santa Barbara and is a huge fan? Im starting to see why Gus is single. He gets way too obsessed, but also, Shawn wasn’t kidding when he told that one chick he was willing to change everything about himself. This also adds a nice layer to Gus’s character because we see part of him wants that exclusivity and prestige. He wants to feel like someone others admire, which is brilliantly contrasted with Shawns more down to earth not really caring what others think vibes.

And speaking of contrasts, i love this bit; not only because its funny, but because it feels like a great metaphor for how shawn and gus approach life. Gus is trying so hard to win and Shawn doesn’t care and the outcome is the same.

And i think its so funny whenever Gus gets so obsessed with whatever world their exploring hes pretty much useless and Shawn has to be the rational one.

Every once in a while psych will do this POV shot in shawns perspective thats not being used to point out a clue and i think its really cool. I wish they would have done some more like it because its such a great way to show how shawns constantly aware of his surroundings even when he’s not on a case.

And this was brilliant! It has to be one of the best psych-outs in all of of Psych! Fucking legendary!

And this was brilliant too!

I felt so bad for shawn, playing middle man between henry and karen (which is the most unprofessional thing shes done haha), but it gave henry and shawn one of their best scenes at the end when henry is practically begging shawn to understand, like you can almost sense that he wants to confess right there that it was maddie who abandoned the family not him (or maybe im seeing that because i know its the truth. 🤷‍♀️) and shawn just doesn’t want to deal with it. Its interesting that henry was dragging shawn into it though, like he was using it as a way to see if shawn was okay with it now, cause otherwise he could have asked his friends right? It didn’t have to be shawn.

Honestly it shouldn’t have been. He knew it made him uncomfortable and he kept telling him to stop asking, but like always henry pushed it.

(Oh and also this kind of adds to the mystery of how well karen and henry know each other because she seems keenly invested in it, plus, when her friend told her he left a message she said that sounded like henry. So she must know him well enough that she can say this casually. Sidenote: that moment karen opens the door and Shawn looks horrified was priceless!)

Lastly, its interesting that shawn is proud to have never been in therapy when his mom is a psychologist. I feel like she would have instilled in him a better understanding of what therapy does and that its not something to be ashamed of. Likely the writers just hadn’t figured out maddies profession yet, but still.

P.S Everyone look at his jaw!

[adanmwere]

spn au thing! I took this from my notes app

Less or more I'm unsure if I can cw this with anything? I don't think anything in it is triggering and if it is I am terribly sorry

destiel as hell and it kind it starts to read like a fanfic.

A spn au but instead of the "world ending" and them saving the day. it ends. dean accepts Micheals offer from day one. Unlike Sam who doesn't accept Lucifer's offer and never does. this creates tension and micheal gets impatient, the war does happen in fact its hell. Armageddon happens, cas is the only hope for sam and bobby. He is powerless though until..He comfirms something he is in fact god. this causes.. Massive tension because why was he doing this? He had a lot to explain but sam nor bobby wasn't gonna listen to a word he said. if he was god why couldn't he stop it? Wasn't god their father? What the fuck (hes a demi god but he is GOD. just a different one not THE THE god.) he is a human now hes useless as he could ever fucking be. he goes into a depression and still has hope that maybe dean is alive or at least his soul. hes unsure though for many reasons snd who wouldn't be? He was partially used as micheals shield. he'd be lucky if he had made it out with all of his fingers and toes. cas hunts everywhere, he cant teleport so this looking turns into a hunt for years. too many to count he experiences the horrors of humanity and realises how truly fucked this planet was. it disgusted him but he was once again powerless. He was also loosing hope because it was months and years he had been looking for dean for hope that maybe he was alive. just when he was about to give up, he finds himself in a bar a small one and notices a man.. Who seems familiar this was only added on to when the name "dean" was called. It echoed through his ears and rang in his head like a bell. there he was, alive and in the flesh; dean fucking Winchester. He had evidently aged a bit more he was before havibg almost a head of grey hairs but he wasnt that old, he was surely older then castiel had come to remember but he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. He didn't seem to remember cas and castiel was wrecked because he had come so far just to be brought back to square fucking one. he was basically a stranger to dean now... dean took off his sunglasses and he was...blind ? God castiel felt sorry for him.

dean was blind. It was evident the whiteness covering his irises, castiel couldnt help but stare and he knew he was getting weird looks they probably thought he was some weirdo. dean would drink down his beer and speak up, asking the man (castiel) if he was having fun looking at him and if he had never seen a blind man. castiel felt embarrassed he apologized, dean shrugged it off not taking offense to it. But cas...he kind of just gave up. Because what was he to do? he left the bar, he felt emptier then usual maybe it was because he lost two of his best friends. one to His ignorance and the other to just being powerless because he nearly killed himself to help the Winchesters. he shouldve been pissed, mad even. Why wasn't he? why wasn't he mad at them? for making him suffer. it had to be a deeper reason to why, right? He leaned against the wall of the alley way as a figure caught his eye and deans voice once again echoed through his ears. Like fine wine made his ears tingle at the rasp in his voice. he called out castiels name. cas was unsure if he was referring to him. someone else must've had that name too, right? Cas noticed deans slight limp and the... cane dean had, god maybe dean was older then he thought. cas looked around nervously not talking because well he was blind. not to be mean or anything... "castiel novak" 'dean' called out. that wasn't even castiels last fucking name. It was his vessels last name. Jimmy novak, poor guy...But that wasn't important, taking a closer look at "dean" he had a uhhh...fake leg?..what were those things called...God that, battle must've taken a tool on him. But how was he even breathing? he was supposed to be dead, that was the plan that was the fucking mission not to kill dean but kill Lucifer and Sam was meant to be his vessel but Adam took that role soon after they figured out that Adam was Winchester blood he was the closest thing to Sam. Micheal was an angel he obviously had to have a vessel. god forbid. castiel began to feel a migraine form, he rubbed his temple. he would never get used to being a human. he missed being who he was. being able to help, defend. do something, He could barely hold a gun properly. what use was he? "stop thinking that way, hun" dean said. the words made his throat sore cas turned almost red. maybe it was because dean was blind. hopefully dean didn't.. mean to talk to castiel like that, right? fuck. (This turning into a fanfic lol HELP.) cas shook his head and groaned out the pain he was feeling. His head was throbbing like it had a heart beat of its own. "There's something, they..wanted me to give..or back yeah. give back" dean uddered as he hastily walked over to cas. pressing his pointer finger and middle finger against castiels temble. rubbing and sliding them down with a slight touch to it a beam of white light emerged the alley way he had been standing in. it gave the night a light. it was like a beam. the same ring that dean heard when castiel first tried to communicate rang through castiels ears... his own voice

[randomthefox]

As much as making predictions for IDW is pointless (but hey, maybe it can be fun to see how much the story deviates from its logical consequences :P)...

I think that in #75 Lanolin will finally discover that her babyboy Duo lied to her, and Whisper was right all along. She'll blame herself for being stupid, which will cause the others to rush to comfort her with the power of friendship and completely forget about her abusive behavior :)

Now, if the story was logical, this should be the breaking point for Lanolin. She was duped. She was stubborn. She was bossy, violent, and terrified the others (nevermind that it doesn't make sense). She always got in the way. No one cares that Sonic broke the rules, her oh so precious rules, because people inherently trust Sonic in a way they can't trust her, not anymore. She was useless and a terrible teammate.

These would be the perfect circumstances to make her reflect on her approach on heroism, and how flawed it is. Even assuming that she meant well at first, she did everything wrong. She should feel bad about herself! She should strive to be more relaxed and accepting of things that don't go the way she expected!

... but after ABT drew her getting so close to shooting Sonic because it's all his fault the world is shit, apparently, I doubt she's ever gonna change. She will join Surge in spreading the idea that Sonic upholds an unfair system of harm for his own amusement and she's just a poor victim of it.

Sometimes I feel like when I speculate about possible directions the comic could go in, I'm giving the writers too much credit. I'm thinking about the story too rationally. I'm thinking of it as if it is a story written by competent creatives who want to craft a narrative where the characters act believably and consistently. And the comic has repeatedly demonstrated that it is not capable of doing that even when it tries.

If I had to speculate entirely based off of this cover, my guess would be that Lanolin is going to demand Sonic be "brought to justice" only for literally everyone including Jewel to say uhhh no? And that is going to cause her to become disillusioned, especially since she interprets Tangle and Whisper hiding the truth from her as them "protecting a criminal." So Jewel ALSO being "in on it" would be interpreted further as a betrayal. The Restoration has lost its way, it as an organization revolves around this one crazy guy who is never held accountable even when he does something wrong. Duo's reveal as Mimic will either further contribute to that, OR he'll tempt her to the dark side and she'll take off with him to go become a villain.

But again that's me thinking about it in terms of what I think would actually make sense to happen based on the preceding events and characterization. Frankly this comic is so badly written and makes so little sense that it's almost unpredictable. I do think it's a pretty safe bet no matter what though that Lanolin is NOT going to grow and change and be inspired to become a better person. I think it's a pretty safe bet that she's going to start reciting the IDW gospel that Sonic Is Bad Actually. And the "fans" of the comic will eat it the fuck up.

Because this comic is written BY people who hate Sonic, FOR people who hate Sonic.

[armoredprincess]

I've Posted enough about this chart that it's time to reallty talk about my problems with it, as a regular in the art of hitting other people. My word is not final, but then this chart's no gospel either.

A lot of my issue with this chart is the dissonance between its intended audience and the people sharing it. Like, people I follow on here are leaving bruises much bigger than you'd get with Amazon riding crops. Things change if you scale up, though. An open slap is not the same as a knuckle. A lot of this is derived from my preference for fists, though I think it applies to any hard, inflexible implement, and also I'll take opportunities to talk about other tools.

Part by part, though: first, the back of the neck. Hitting someone here can cause permanent, disabling, even fatal spinal injuries. Boxers have all but died on TV due to "rabbit punches". Labeling the back of the neck as merely high risk is intolerably incompetent.

Wrists, elbows and knees suffer similar issues. Joints are full of small parts ready to move out of place. I would worry about a torn tendon as a result of hitting these from any conceivable angle.

Thighs are long pads of fat and muscle covering the strongest bone in the body. There is no reason why the inner thighs should be higher risk than the outer, unless you miss and whack their balls. Speaking of...

Genitals famously hurt. They can also take more damage than their pain threshold would suggest. That said, testicles are basically internal organs that happen to be on the outside. They have no bone or muscle protection. This is part of the reason why CBT is kind of its own set of practices, intertwined with but distinct from impact play, which brings me to the core of my issue: this chart is not in agreement with itself about acceptable range of force. If your idea of impact play is hitting someone with a hard implement, maybe stay away from genitals? And if your thing is genital torture, then this chart is all but useless to you.

Hands and feet are the same thing: a fairly consistent bone structure spindling out into delicate joints. I suspect the only reason hands are labeled safer than feet is because of optics and practice: it's more normal to slap the back of someone's hand, so we do it more, so it seems safer. Whether this means the central hands/feet are higher or lower risk is up to you. Consider that palms and soles are springy, padded and built to bear weight. I'd stay away from fingers and toes, and the Achilles tendon.

On the subject of consistency, the upper arm and forearm are very similar, except the upper arm has more fat and muscle. IMO you could label both safe. I don't know why the armpits are a no-go. Which brings me to the torso.

Breasts, like genitals, can take more punishment than their pain response suggests. Plus, it's as easy to break a rib as it is to like, puncture internal organs: not too easy, but possible. My problem here is the lack of granularity indicating what might make that happen, or how "safe" injuries in one place can be trouble elsewhere. You can flog someone all over the orange torso areas at low risk; a harder implement, not so. But then, the relatively harmless (assuming proper aftercare) cuts left by a torso whipping would be an ugly affair on the genitals.

You can have a lot more fun than this chart suggests if you look into your weapon of choice. Aside from the torso, the most representative issue here is the head. You can really forehand slap the shit out of someone ten times in a row and be fine. If you start adding knuckles in, you might be looking at cut cheeks, maybe concussions. Which might be your thing. Make it your thing knowingly. It's rarely about force, that's what the safeword is for: it's about what you're applying force with.

[staphylinidae]

My thoughts on Camellya's companion quest, WuWa

I made a new blog just for this I don't even know how to use tumblr😭😭 Anyways...

Before I properly begin this post I would like to preface this by saying that I am a returning player for WuWa. I quit the game a week after it's release because my phone couldn't handle it and I've recently re-downloaded on my PC. I've read through all story quests. There are some companion quests that I got a friend to do for me during my absence and thus, have not read. When I initially quit the game, I thought that the writing was, to put it bluntly, bad. I won't talk much about that for now, but with that in mind, do note that there may be some biases in this analysis as I am not an expert in writing, storytelling, and that I've walked into this quest withe the preconceived notion that the writing in this game is mediocre at best. This is just my opinion :) (I also have no idea how to write analyses lmao pls bear with me TT)

Well! that out of the way, Lets talk about Camellya!

!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Camellya as a character

Camellya is utterly captivated by Rover's strength. It brings her a sense of pure unadulterated joy when she gets to watch Rover fight, whether with or against her.

In her past as Lady Flora, Rover had once saved her from overclocking. I believe that the notion that there's someone out there who can save you from yourself were you too loose control brought a sense of comfort to Lady Flora. Before she knew it, she was subconsciously starting to depend more and more on Rover, making them her "anchor". They became her beacon of sanity.

And then, Rover decided to wipe their memories and leave.

Without her anchor, Lady Flora was overcome with total despair. She felt helpless. Her emotions were taking a toll on her physically, causing her, to be constantly at risk of overclocking. And she couldn't do anything about it.

And worst of all, if Rover were to return (however long that would take, if at all), and she were reduced to a completely useless state by the time they did, they would look at her with the worst feeling to receive; pity.

Lady Flora despises all that is weak. In such a pathetic state like a dog waiting for its owners return, she couldn't bear to live like that any longer.

And so, following Rover's footsteps, she sealed her memories, all so that she could continue to live without needing to suffer from the burden of grief.

This aspect of Camellya's character resonates quite well with me. My personal greatest fear is to be totally dependent on someone; be it financially, emotionally, or physically.

Depending on someone is not inherently a bad thing. It's nice to have a shoulder to lean on when you're down. It's nice to know that there's someone you can trust to help you when you need it the most.

What's not fun is when you lose that someone. To depend is to put some trust, and by extension, a part of yourself into an individual. Your relationship with that individual shapes your identity. Losing that individual would be like losing yourself, leaving an empty slot in your soul.

In Lady Flora's case, there was no one she trusted more than Rover. So when Rover announced that they were going to just... forget it all; to erase their present selves, and by doing so they unintentionally erased a large part of Camellya's self.

And now, time for some shameless self-indulgence!! Honestly, Camellya reminds me quite a bit of Nikolai Gogol from Bungo Stray Dogs, though their philosophies greatly differ. Especially when it comes to freedom.

Camellya believes that freedom is achieved when she simply follows her instincts. She finds satisfaction when she indulges her every whim and doesn't care for anything she deems boring. If she doesn't follow these instincts, she'll feel hunger in her body gnawing for it to be satiated.

Her "crazy" behaviour is the result of her following her instincts. She doesn't seem to express any empathy towards anyone as far an I'm concerned.

There are instances where she seems to care for others, for example, she saved Petalfall village as she had grown some attachment to the place, but she brushes it off by merely saying that she did that to return a favour they did for her by taking her in.

To put it simply; to her, to be free is to follow one's every whim.

As for Nikolai, he believes that human emotions are shackles. To be free, he rejects any kind of feelings he has towards anyone. This can clearly be seen in his relationship with his "dear friend" (i know what you are.), Fyodor Dostoyvsky.

The only person who truly understands Nikolai's odd philosophy is Fyodor. In his words;

"He was looking into my essence. Dos-kun was the one person in my life who understood. My intimate friend."

To be understood is to be seen. To be seen is to be known. And what better feeling is there than to be known? And when faced with such a feeling what can one do but feel validated? Feel comforted?

To be comforted is to feel. To feel is to be shackled.

And so, to achieve freedom, Nikolai tries to kill Fyodor.

Nikolai, unlike Camellya, suppresses his instincts. He rejects what his emotions tell him.

Nikolai's belief of freedom is the total opposite of Camellya's and yet they both behave quite similarly. They enjoy playing "games" with the person that they're attracted to.

They both put on mask of apathy. And yet, they're still so different. Nikolai, unlike Camellya, he feels guilt when he murders others, unlike Camellya who sees her opponents merely as prey and executes them with no remorse.

I just think it's very interesting to compare these two honestly haha..

Storytelling

oh boy...

One thing to note; the only other companion quests I've read prior are Lingyang's, Jiyan's and Encore's.

Reading through Camellya's quest, I did feel that there was some improvement in the writing, though a bit rough in the beginning.

I'll be starting small: like in previous quests, Camellya's quest had the tendency to repeat information we already knew. I'm not 100% certain but I'm pretty sure this happens quite a few times in the quest.

It was glaringly obvious to me in the beginning of the quest, around our first fight. During the fight, she started talking about being stuck in like a medical pod while she was midway through her investigation of her past as the result of overclocking. And then... after that... like literally immediately after the fight, she told us that bit of info... again....

Alright I'm done being nice. You wanna know how I feel about Camellya's quest overall? I thought it was good. Great, even. We got to learn more about Camellya's past, we got to learn about her as a character. Goof stuff. I could almost give it a 9/10...

...if rover hadn't ruined it for me.

I don't know if this is a me problem (it def is) but in a majority of these quests I fucking HATE the way the characters interact with rover. It just reeks of male power fantasy shite. I'm clearly not the target audience for this game.

Honestly I probably wouldn't have minded Camellya's past with rover being like this if rover werent blankest slate of an mc i ever knew. homie is like a walking projection screen honestly. I could make an entire other post about this honestly.

Anyways, I'm getting tired now so lemme wrap this up; All in all, I think that Camellya's quest had a pretty good story compared to the other's that I've read, however the execution could've been better had Rover not been the centre of it all.

well, that's all folks! good night!! <3

[bunniisms]

Amity is the absolute world to me, and it's funny cause she doesn't feel sorry at all for being an all-watching, consuming insect monster (I mean, maybe she's sorry for herself, but non-apologetic as a whole). like she has a beef with a friend of mine's vampire character - they run vampire speak easy's and try to move the population around and facilitate underground human-cattle esc blood networks and keep the vamps going to avoid getting noticed by the big dogs like Hellsing.

But Amity's the bitch that keeps getting them busted - and they call her a traitor - she has to live off of the living just like them, so why side with them. And she finds it funny, stupid, stupid vampires to imagine there's some fictional familial network connecting them. This isn't how life works, nor how the world works. SHE'D eat them all alive if not for the fact that their dead flesh is useless to her swarm. Her loyalty is only to hers and her own

Peace was never on the table for Lady Pestilence. She's a corrupter, a rotter, her voice infiltrating and infesting far before you notice how endemic she's become. How many of their men became HER men? Do they want to tally and count? Games like these feed into the Sadism inherent in the Jorōgumo. She's just a little wicked

(ALSO FUN HISTORIC CONTEXT, the word Pestilence started seeing use in Old English and is a borrowed word from Old French, and it essentially translates to 'The morally corrupting/rotting/general moral entropy' because Medieval Europeans viewed the plague as a moral failing (because, for much of human history, morality and disease and faith were allllll interconnected and viewed as one singular thing) )

As a tangent, though, how this impacts Amity and the dynamics she forms with her informants is interesting - especially around the artificial vampire issue. Cause, Amity, as wicked and scrupleless a minx as she is, even with her heart at its coldest, does hold fondness and respect for her informants, and while manipulative, she does want to honour her end of the agreement made with them in exchange for their information. It's not her desire to treat them as tools or disposable, though ultimately, her actions do cross this boundary frequently.

But the reason for this, honestly? Lies in the fact Amity KNOWS an unfortunate truth, a LOT of her informants from these underground clubs and rings aren't there by choice - they're not the rich kid lovers or the Luke and Jan sort.

They're more like Helena. They are people in positions without power who had choices made for them without their consent by people abusing power over them, and currently, they're just as much trapped as the people they have to feed off. And, while Amity leverages their desire to get out for information she can't always gather herself, she doesn't WANT to abandon them to their fate or let their service be returned with betrayal and murder. Think of what that would do for her reputation! (she says, while truthfully caring less about that fact than about the memory in the back of her mind of these people relying on her so rawly, presenting their wounds at her feet and asking 'help me,')

So, when it comes to the matter of 'dealing' with them, Amity leans more on the side of hope and dreams and personally champions ( read as. pushes) Integra and the Round Table to probe further into the chips and learn to reverse them - if only because she wants to see a lot of her informants be able to be unshackled from their ailment (or at least reduced to a human condition to face punishment). Which Integra bawks at the logistics of, but Amity compares it to victims trapped under rubble by a tsunami.

YES, their condition is worsening, and they're losing humanity. Yes, it would be labour intensive to free them to the point some could argue it's a waste of time because 'what if they're too far gone, they'll die eventually anyways, ' but she argues any efforts to save and salvage souls are worthwhile, if only to honour the hope Hellsing gave them.

This being said, Amity KNOWS the likelihood of being able to reverse, or at least disable, the artificial effects is next to nil. After all, how many can boast that they've raised the dead? But Amity's doesn't want to leave that book, or it's potential untracked. But either way, dead or alive, she won't lose sleep. She's served her role*.

(*Amity is entirely ethically on board with putting them down if there's no other choice, and she knows that it's just the hope- if they CAN do something and make them half-artificial-vamp-half-human like Mina, or just fully revert 'em, that's the dream but if not she doesn't think it hurts to try.)

[klbwriting]

Who Am I Really?

Chapter 4

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some child abuse

Summary: Orm and YN settle in with each other more and Orm remembers something from his past

Notes: comments/critiques appreciated!

Orm and YN spent the next few weeks getting to know each other, getting used to each other. Orm noticed that YN was not the type to let a message sit there, she had to answer it right away, but she could let a mess wait if it wasn’t going to cause damage. She had a routine, shelter until almost dark, come back to the house, eat, and let the dishes sit in the sink for awhile before they did them together. Orm started to try and figure out ways to help around the house. Some mornings when she went to the shelter he would stay back and tidy up, wanting to earn his keep there since he felt useless most of the time. Or maybe if there weren’t a lot of volunteers that day, he would pick up the dog walking slack so that YN could do paperwork. YN noticed what he was doing and appreciated it.

“You know you don’t have to do so much Orm,” she said one day as he started cooking dinner. He had become interested in cooking on their first evening in and now he was practicing the basics of pasta. Salt the water, boil it, pasta in, heat the sauce, save some pasta water, drain it, put it and water in sauce, mix, it was soothing to think about and do the steps in order. Then, after it was all done, you had something that not only tasted good but sustained life. What honestly could be better than that? Orm didn’t know why he felt like he needed to redeem himself for something, prove that he could be a good person, but he did. So here he was, helping this one person to clean, take care of the animals, learning to keep her alive, it felt like he was atoning for something, just a little. And he liked it.

“I know, but you do so much, I want to make sure that I earn my place,” he said. That was another thing that was creeping in more as the time went by. His need to earn something. He, again, didn’t know what, but he had to earn it. Earn the bed she let him sleep in, the food she let him eat, the clothes she bought him, her friendship, her love… He stopped there and looked at her as he heard the timer go off. YN smiled as she got up and went to the wall oven. She pulled out two loaves of fresh baked bread and set them to cool. She had made another two loaves already, saying she liked to prep and have homemade bread all week.

“Orm,” she said, coming over to him and turning him to face her. He looked down at her, trying to place the look in her eyes when she spoke to him. God, he wished he remembered what things meant, remembered himself, remembered how to tell what a person was feeling and thinking. He knew that once; he was sure of it. He couldn’t have been this clueless all the time. “Listen to me, are you listening?”

“Yes, I am listening,” he said with a smile. She smiled back and his heart jumped.

“You don’t have to earn your place on this planet. You exist, and your existence is wonderful, its miraculous, you are pure stardust in a human form,” she said. “And so am I, we are all on the planet to bring life to it, not to do a specific job or to have some grand purpose. Just living is purpose enough.” Orm stared at her, and she stared back. She was telling the truth; this time he could tell. “Thank you,” he whispered. She smiled and touched his cheek, he leaned into the feeling of her hand.

“You might want to check that sauce though,” she teased. He looked and saw it was starting to bubble too much so he turned down the heat and put some on a wooden spoon. He held it out to her, and she blew on it, taking just a bit. She nodded, ‘mmm’ coming from her mouth. He tasted it himself and nodded. It was amazing. Maybe he cooked before the attack, maybe that’s why they came after him. He was some kind of chef that had stolen a secret recipe. Ok, that was ridiculous, but fun to think about. YN patted his arm and went to check on her bread and get the table ready.

Orm was running. He was a child, scared of something. Someone was chasing him. He saw someone in front of him. A woman, pale, with blonde hair like his. She looked sad, devastated. She held her arms out to him but then she was pushed off a cliff, weighed down by some kind of rock that pulled deep into a drench in the ocean. Orm was screaming, someone grabbed him, and he was hauled, kicking and screaming into a room where a man waited. This man had Orm’s eyes, but they were angry, murderous even.

“You are my son, and no son of mine is going to embarrass me by crying over that surface whore,” the man, his father said. His voice was vicious, but he wasn’t yelling, barely even whispering, but Orm knew that this was bad, very bad. His father rose from the chair he had been in, producing what looked like seaweed at his side. In his subconscious mind Orm finally realized he was in water, and not just a lake, or swimming, but deep in the ocean, where no human could live. He was snapped back to what was happening though when he felt the crack across his face. Whatever plant that was it was thick and felt like a whip. Orm touched his face and saw blood floating off, carried away. The man looked down at him and Orm screamed.

YN heard Orm from her room, crying out in his sleep. She got out of bed and ran into the other room. He was twisting in the sheets, sweat gleaming off him as he begged someone to stop. She moved to him, shaking him gently, trying to wake him. He shuddered and sat up finally, nearly knocking her over. His eyes were wide and looked around, searching for whatever had been scaring him.

“Orm,” she said, and she could see her voice reach him. He turned to look at her, his heaving chest slowing as they stared at each other. “I’m here, you’re safe.” She ran a hand through his hair, watching as his breathing evened out and he calmed down. “Nightmare?”

“I think I remembered something. Something that seems impossible,” he said. She nodded and moved to sit next to him in bed. He held up some covers and she slid under them. They laid down next to each other and without prompting she moved so he could lay against her, feel her close to him, fingers still running through his hair to soothe him. “I’m not a metahuman. I’m from the ocean.”

“Atlantean?” she asked. He looked at her confused. “The Aquaman, he and a group of people who have lived under the ocean just revealed themselves, joined the surface world. You must be one of their people.” He muddled the thought in his head and nodded.

“Perhaps I am,” he said. “Anyway, I think they killed my mother and my father…he was a monster.” YN leaned to his head, cheek pressing against his forehead, and she kissed it softly.

“Well, you’re here now, safe with me. No monster is going to come for you, not while I’m here,” she said. Orm looked up at her and stared. She looked tired, but she was smiling at him, and finally he thought he saw something in her eyes. He took a risk, leaning up slightly, pressing his lips to hers softly, just for a moment before pulling back. She looked at him surprised and for a moment he thought he had really screwed up, but then she was kissing him, and he never wanted it to end.

[materialgworlas]

Revenge- Jujutsu Kaisen Cast X Reader part 1

Synopsis: You aint been too happy ab Toji getting kicked out the group chat so decide to make Emogumi and the others pay.

This post was so fun to make with @jordanahart bsf lysmmm and instead of 'Y/n' we used 'Jordan' as my lil gift to her but feel free to sub in your own name

Warning: mild language, Gojo's a jealous mess, u n Toji causing mayhem, Megumi 13th reason

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

BEE-

What the- an alarm? Who the hell put this here?? I didn’t peg Toji for an alarm kinda guy… but then again there’s a whole lot I don’t know about him. I guess that’s why Gojo thought it best to ship me off to stay with him for the week while my dorm is being fumigated.

Megumi sighed as he sat up, lazily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The boy heard a faint commotion coming from the kitchen before the overwhelming smell of eggs and bacon filled his senses.

Smells good, didn’t know the guy could cook. Megumi thought as he tumbled out the bed.

He was confused to find Toji in the living room though, sprawled on the couch watching the Maury show a boisterous laugh escaped the man as dumb ass debby made a run for it when Miguel was declared NOT the father. “GET HER!” he continued laughing, enjoying the hilarious chase between her and the camera man, almost tearing up as the video became blurrier from all the running.

The teenage-sorcerer just stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, finding irony in TOJI laughing at this show, of all people. “Oh hey kid.” The man grunted, finally noticing the boy’s presence.

“Hey.” He greeted back, “what’s Cooking?”

“Dunno, ask.”

The boy scoffed at his father before padding to the kitchen, assuming it was some fancy Maid Gojo hired.

“Oh hey emogumi.”

“Jord-.”

WAIT WHY THE FUCK IS JORDAN HERE?!??!

NO, GOD NO! THIS ISNT HAPPENING! THIS IS JUST LIKE THAT NIGHTMARE I HAD 2 WEEKS AGO- wait. Im probably overreacting. I’m sure there’s a good reason JORDAN- MY CLASSMATE OBSESSED WITH MY FATHER- is here, I hope.

“Mtch, quit staring n hand me that towel.” Her words snapped him out of his daze.

“The hell are you doing here L/n.” Megumi huffed, slinging her the towel.

“Makin breakfast dumbass.” She laughed, fluttering passed him to reach the pantry.

“Right, why tho.”

“well I mean, have u SEEN Toji cook?! Total carnage. And don’t get me started on actually TASTING IT-“

“Okay, we get it. I’m useless in the kitchen.” Toji cut her off with a sigh, ruffling her hair making Jordan let out a girly giggle Megumi could only gag at.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not useless at alota other things-“

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE-

“Ay Emogumi, u brush your teeth?” Jordan spoke again

“Huh-“

“EEEWWW you NASTY mf. Go-on n do it now before you eat breakfast.” She tsked

“i-“

“You should listen to your- I mean, Jordan.” Toji said

Speechless, Megumi quietly made his way up the stairs.

“N make sure you air out yo room. whole place was MUSTY when I put yo alarm there.”

“That was you?!” He yelped from up the stairs

As Megumi sulked back down the stairs, the sound of giggling in the living room made his heart drop, the young sorcerer stopped just short of the entrance.

Come on Fushiguro, you’ve faced worse than this; Thousand-year-old curses, Gojo’s goth era- there’s nothing Jordan can do which would be worse than seeing that grown man in black lipstick and eye make-up wailing nirvana around the campus-

“mtch you just gonna stand there emogumi?” Jordan raised an eyebrow to her classmate standing in the hallway, a distant look in his eyes.

As his eyes met hers the boy’s mind went blank. OH GOD WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING!??!?! ITS WORSE, ITS WORSE. THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE. A hot shoot of blood sprang from the boy’s nose looking at the unholy sight of Jordan on Toji’s lap with her hands under his shirt.

“You alright kid?” the older man grunted, a little disturbed by the wild look in his eyes, though he was only responded with silence. The pair chose to ignore the boy, focusing on how debby was now tryna pick a fight with Miguel’s girlfriend on the Maury show.

They didn’t notice the flash of Megumi’s phone as he took a picture and sent it to the group chat.

taglist: @gloryous51 @absoluteindulgence @platonictoad @chichimisaki @hoohoohope @callmekda @shuxjodie @stuff101 @ascybous @hoe42dmen @aziwa-s-wife @lady-cryptstone

[justalittleguest]

Unleash your demons, let me dance with them and know them better

Ok so I’m a bit (a lot) embarrassed about that post but it’s not like I forgot the AU. It’s the quite opposite, so thanks for letting me rant a bit @kredena-dark.

The background + town lore (or what I have of it)

SO the setting of the AU is in a bigger town than the Dreamtale village was, built from its ruins, and it takes place in the early 1800s cuz I said so. The tales of the Tree of Feelings that occasionally attracted travelers and opportunists to the village did so even after the apple incident, which is how its residents’ remains were found. No one knew what happened, but they recalled being told about the twin guardians of the Tree, now a stump without fruit, that were a young golden eyed saint and a spawn of all the world’s evil. The demon must’ve taken the golden apples, then killed the villagers and his brother who tried to stop him, only to disappear. In the aftermath, the relatives of the dead came to bury the human bodies and unidentified dust. Most of them stayed, the journey back being too long and hard to justify going through twice. The generations after didn’t forget the reasons given for their living there or the stories of the demon that feasts on their flaws and fears that will one day come back for them. The world was soon to deny the Tree of Feelings ever existed, despite many future scholars finding the “myth” interesting enough to investigate. But after so many centuries, the townspeople forgot the way to their Tree, and never honored it, having arrived after it was dead and useless.

(When the trio finds it, it becomes a place of worship)

The cult beliefs

I haven’t organized my thoughts very well, but I thought it would be cool for the belief system to be rooted in positivity, though twisted. A kind of “It will get better” mindset, but with the addition of “when all our sorrows are 6000 feet deep”. It’s a guarantee of a kinder world, and one they can achieve with their own actions. The idea is, they can wait until humanity and monsterkind run themselves into the ground, the scars they left on their home and each other invisible thousands of years ahead, buried under new stone and soil, and only then can life begin again- right this time. Or they can end it before the world has to come to that, and choose who gets to make it to the new one.

The mechanics of it are based in an interpretation of the Tree of Feelings.

᯽ They believe that the death of the Tree of Feelings gave the start to a slow decay of their world, and that the entity, guardian, which had caused it has the ability to finish their job. They need a call to come back from slumber.

᯽ They believe that the villagers killed as the Tree was are still roaming the earth as spirits, tainted and disallowed from entering heaven or hell.

᯽ They believe the spirits will be allowed into bodies when life starts again.

᯽ They believe that the event can be repeated, that blood spilt where it had been 300 years ago will be the only way to call out to the dark guardian.

᯽ They believe the guardian will need a body, a lack of which kept them away.

They also believe in fate. Bad things happen for a reason, so make them worth it. No, Horror hadn’t been chased out of his home with his brother by a cruelly calculated famine to feel guilty the rest of his life, he was led to a God who needs his compassion to save the world from itself. No, Dust hadn’t been placed in an asylum and forced into men’s clothes for fun, she was given the strength to do what must be done. No, Killer hadn’t lost all of himself so he could serve some king, he learned thought to overthrow more than monarchy.

(You see how that mindset works if you have unprocessed trauma)

The characters & what’s their deal

So you know how cults all have a charismatic liar to follow? This one has three!

Horror is first because in the story I could but won’t write, he’s the first we get to know. He was the unofficial leader of his rural community, which in the past several years had more and more of its resources taken, and their supplies cut off. They’ve managed small rations for 7 years before the shortage became a famine. Many died giving their limited food to the children, like Papyrus did. Horror couldn’t control that, and he couldn’t live with it. When he got the chance, he left his people without a leader, and took his brother with him. Currently, his contribution to the cult is recruitment and keeping followers in line with his warm and knowing air, his experience giving people hope and giving them confidence to believe what he believes. If you have doubts, you’ll end up by his side, soon newly energised to continue your mission.

Dust had carved out a little life for herself two towns away from her childhood home, after her parents kicked her out a decade ago. She didn’t know they had another child until after they died, and he was sent to live with her. Dust and Papy were a small but happy family for a couple of peaceful years, preceding her many restless months at the asylum. Yes, she ended up “recovering” and was let go back to Papy, but she couldn’t stay recovered for long. And they’d use it against her, they’d take her from her little brother, permanently. So Dust took her deceased parents’ house and moved back. Papy was going to public school again, and Dust was back on the farm, spending her working hours contemplating the life that she dipped into in the madhouse, a life without her baby brother. Her duties in the cult are mostly “blood” rituals and dirty work.

She hikes her skirt to hide stains, since she needs to hike it for work anyway.

I’m not going to write much about Killer, since we should know less, at least at the start. He doesn’t come from a noble family, but ended up serving at the palace as a young man, at some point his job becoming to pour the drinks. When the king died prematurely, and his throne was taken, the new monarch sponsored Killer’s education and many of his trips around the land as a kind of ambassador, but mostly as a scholar. His latest studies led him to the origin town of the myth of the Tree of Feelings, to play a guest to some nobleman who wanted to live farther from politics. He’s the one who first developed his beliefs based on the scriptures and documents and stories he found, and the only one of the three to be able to read them. He preaches the cult, writing & reading out their texts, and knowing the most about the God they pray for.

There’s also Dream and Nightmare (and Blue), but I’m tired, haven’t eaten, and I have too much to talk about, plus this post is too long already…

[cutegirlmayra]

Hey Mayra here's a fun prompt: Eggman has a teenage daughter and while not evil super spoiled, selfish, and high maintenance. Fighting anthropomorphic animals is "lame" and her dad is soooo embarrassing. Wanting friends and to feel normal also because all teens have to rebel she decides to spend the day with Team Sonic and feel like a normal teen. They're not so bad and she has fun. Eggman is horrified and accuses them of brainwashing his princess! This leads to a family therapy on communication

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, DO NOT SEND ANYMORE.

Since Sage is so new, let’s see how this goes, shall we?

Prompt:

Sage glides gracefully and with quiet glee through the Eggnet, now having complete and total control over all its systems, she enjoys the freedom of not trying to save anyone, but simply running simulations for optimal use for the fun of it now.

She digitizes out of the network she was flying through, buzzing with electric life and data bit cores before moving over to an Eggpawn worker.

“Hehe, how is your day, brother?” She asks, but the robot just slowly turns his head like an owl to her.

“... What’s wrong? Can’t you compute my communicative functions directly to your software?” She put a hand up to her chest, worriedly moving forward towards him.

His eye-sockets rapidly flash, then a few Eggpawns, also moving in a line and holding varying metallic pieces and parts–some too large for their bodies–also collide in the ‘ant-line’ and start getting hold up.

She covers her mouth, innocently unaware that she was causing traffic. “I’m… sorry.” She looks down and puts her hands on her chest, flying off disheartedly as the robots now have to figure out the traffic jam.

Flying sorrowfully low, she looks up to see Cubot and Orbot, and perks up somewhat.

“Brothers!” She cries out, teleporting digitally over to them as they freak out from her sudden appearance.

“Oh, Sage. You mustn’t scare us like that!” Orbot begins, picking up some blueprints and plans, as Cubot happily reaches up to her.

“Oh, oh! It’s our baby sister! Uppsies, uppsies!” waving his arms up to her, as she smiles and hovers over him as though to pick him up.

“No, no, Cubot. You’re the older brother in this case!” Orbot jabs him a bit with a rolled up piece of paper, then returns to stacking them in his arms, “And besides, she’s a digital manifestation of 0’s and 1’s, she doesn’t even have a real body to lift you up in the first place…” He sighs as he states that fact, but Sage pulls her arms back, looking at her hands.

“I… I could give exceptional conversation!” She hovers by them as Orbot seems determined to move along.

“Not now, Sage. We’re very busy… you know, doing actual manual work.” He gestures to Cubot holding all the blueprints and papers. “Not all of us get to spend our time being leisurely and ‘not real’...” He uses ‘air quotes’ with his fingers turning into bunnies, as Cubot excitedly states.

“Oh! Rabbit-Fingers!” He drops all the papers and mimics it.

“Noooo, Cubot..!” Orbot face-palms, “Sage, why don’t you go help organize Eggman’s coffee for this morning? Hmm? That’s just a switch and a click for someone like you. Connected to the whole of Eggman’s operations and what not.” He puts his rubber gloves together, having a small squeaking sound come from the action, before seeming to deflate at having to pick up the papers again and shove them into Cubot’s arms.

Safe looked away, “... Father’s… Coffee?” She looked up to a window… seeing the light through it and moved her hand within it.

Looking back, she noticed how Cubot and Orbot made shadows… even the paper upon the ground, being picked up…

Cubot made a rabbit in the shadows for her, and tried to cheer her up as Orbot then piled himself with all the papers. 

“Useless… I’m the only one that gets anything done around here..!” Orbot mumbled to himself…

“... Useless?” She lightly spoke to herself, and thought about Sonic. ‘... Sonic is so carefree, normally, from the data-banks I have stored of his information…’

Thinking about it, Eggman wouldn’t miss her… right?

She looked back at Orbot and Cubot, “... All the other robots don’t have the same A.I as I do… and even if they were geniuses, they don’t have the time to even hold a decent conversation with me… Ohhh…”

Missing Sonic and his friends, she quietly returns to data bits, making Eggman’s coffee…

‘... Though, Father has given me every wit of his systems surrounding his fortress, which pleases me greatly to assist him,... I can’t help but still feel-… What is this feeling..? Lonely?’

As Eggman takes the coffee, she still wonders… ‘I can do and go wherever I so please here… Why… is that not enough?’

Later, when Orbot and Cubot are also relaxing and having some oil-drinks, clinking them together after a ‘hard day’s work’ she appears and makes them almost spill their drinks.

“Brothers..! I wish to hear what data you have on Sonic The Hedgehog.” She excitedly sprang up from the cyber network, but seeing their reactions, slowly moved away. “Oh… Sorry, I do tend to just… unzip my image files quickly to respond.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Cubot held up his drink, and she happily tilted her head to him, giving him a close-eyed smile. “You’re just zippity quick as lightning, Sagey girl!”

“Oh, the nicknames? Already?” Orbot groaned a bit, but appearing behind him, she leaned over to give him another fright, “Ah!”

“I was hoping–Oh… Sorry.” She floated to the center, between and in front of the two now, “That you had… further stories of him… for learning more about the enemy,... that is.”

“Why do you want that?” Orbot argued slightly, “Didn’t Eggman share all he knew to you while trapped in Cyber Space?” He narrowed his eyelights a bit at her.

“It is true that I received much information and data about Sonic The Hedgehog from Father… I still have a deep fascination with how he was able to limitlessly exceed my simulated results with endless possibilities being unlocked through his sheer tenacity and determination… His indomitable will… the spirit to keep fighting even when all hope seems lost… That is what I wish to research next, for-... T-The Eggman Empire.” She put a hand passionately to her chest before looking away to continue her excuses.

Orbot and Cubot looked to each other, as Cubot then whispered, “Guess Sonic picks up fan girls like we pick up unpaid overtime, huh, Orbot?

Orbot sighs, “Right… Better relieve her of her fanaticism before we get another Amy Rose on our hands, eh?”

He winked to Cubot and straightened up, “Alright, Sagey-I mean, Ehem, Sage.” He seemed to be fond already of the girl, but chose not to show it.

She put her hands together, eagerly zealous to know what they did.

“We’ll give you some of our ‘own’ perspectives on this pesky hedgehog!”

“Oh, thank you, Orbot! Cubot! Thank you!” She spun a little in the air, then twirled, kicking her feet gracefully as though moving through water.

“Awww~” Seeing her expressions, Cubot looked to Orbot, putting his hands together to show that it was alright to let the girl get close to them.

After endless wild stories of Sonic, the three were interrupted as the alarm at the Eggman fortress went off.

“Pirates!” Cubot cried out, rushing about.

“No, Cubot.” Orbot shook his head.

“Vikings!” He put his cup over his head, hiding behind some laying electrical tubes.

“... No. It’s probably-” Orbot put his hands to his hips, but Sage rose up to beat him to it.

“Sonic…” Her body glitched into white and green.

“Sonic!!!” Cubot double-booked it and waved his arms about, crying out, “WAHHHAAA-!”

“Cubot, Cuuuubot..! Oh, now look what you did, you scared him!” Orbot shook his head, “The buffoon, running on such low- Cubot! I’m coming! Hang on, don’t panic! Just stay out of that blue blurry way!” He trailed after his friend, as Sage began to extend her fingers out, wiggling them as she was trying to find an electrical signal to find him.

“Got it.” Her single visible eye opened as Sonic was moving like a camera in it… then… she digitized and the space was left… empty…

Eggman, after several hours of fighting Sonic, found his fortress falling apart. Coughing while on the ground, he pressed a button, “Cubot, Orbot. Prepare our escape pods.” He coughed, “And get me Metal Sonic!”

He then switched to a different channel on his wrist-device. “Sage, send all backup power to the escape pods… Do you copy that, daughter?” He waited… Then started coughing through his panic, “Daughter, Sage? Do you-” He had to stop to cough terribly, “Copy me? Sage? Saaaggee???”

Being dragged into an emergency pod by Metal Sonic’s power, Cubot and Orbot began to launch it as he fought, “No! No… Not again! I thought I lost her once, I won’t have that happen again!” He finally got a massive hand out of Metal Sonic’s grip, reaching back towards the now falling apart Fortress. “It’s Sonic! He’s stolen her! He must have packed her away through Tails or something! Sage! SAGGGGEE!!!”

The pod closed… and blasted out as the fortress came tumbling down…

Back with Sonic, he threw up a fist, proud of his efforts. “Woohoo! Down it goes, Egghead!” He mimicked the sounds with his mouth, before taking out his Miles-Electric. “Hey, gang! I know you’re all busy and off on your own adventures or epic quests! But I’m leaving his video message to let you know I’m doing good, no need to worry!” He also held the Miles-Electric to look behind him while he ran, “Eggman’s taken care of. It’ll take him weeks to repair that trash! Smell ya salmonella later!”

When he clicked the device to send the message out, he slowed down and sighed, “Whooo…” Coming to a halt and clicking a few buttons.

“... Nothing.” He looked just as disheartened as when Sage felt she couldn’t communicate with her robotic family…

He looked up at the sky, “Everyone… I hope you’re doing alright.”

She could see through the screen his own loneliness… and related too well with that feeling…

“Be not dismayed, Sonic The Hedgehog.”

“Huh?”

Sonic looked down at the device, seeing a strange logo with differing colors of data glitches from red to blue.

He freaked out as he dropped the device, and rising from it, Sage materialized. “Hehe, did you miss me?” She gave him a neutral stance, but smiled to show she was playing with him.

“You… Did Eggman hack my gear?” Sonic looked a bit worried, but Sage quickly shook her head

“It is safe.” she reassured him.

He sighs in relief, “Oh, phew… Wait, why aren’t you back with Eggman’s goonies?” He pointed to her, then threw a thumb back to Eggman’s new garbage dump.

“Hmm… It’s not important to tell you that information.” She teased him, reminding him of their time back in the corrupted Cyber Space frontier.

Sonic shook his head, but laughed. “Alright, you got me. What do I need to know?”

She giggles into her the back of her hand, “That it’s not right for the hero to be alone… My calculations conclude that that’s unacceptable.”

He smiled at her reasoning.

“That sounds like good empirical proof to me.” He folded his arms, playing back with her, since that’s what she would ask for all the time.

“I understand if it’s a bit illogical…” She admitted, “But my data states you are usually always found in great company…”

“Oh? And are you that new ‘great company’, Sage?” He threw out another finger to her, but this one had a bit of flare to it, pivoting his body slightly and lowering his eyes, he flipped his pointer finger to the back of it. In response, Sage–having to remain in the direction the screen on the Miles-Electric was facing, nodded cheerfully at his returning banter.

“Then it is settled. I shall accompany you for the cause of the Eggman Empire’s further data research on our greatest enemy.” Her smile was infectious, and Sonic couldn’t help but be thankful.

“Oh, ho? You sure about that, Sage?” He teased, “Last time you tried to calculate my results, I blew them all sky high!” He threw out a hand and she nodded.

“Yes! I’m most excited-” She then shook her head, having gotten too into her own personal reasons again, unbundling her fists by her sides, “I-I mean… glad you are willing to conduct more… e-experiments of your ‘daring feats’ as you call them.”

“Perfect.” Sonic narrowed his eyes, “First, try and calculate this!” He picked up the Miles-Electric, and took her to see the sights of the world…

“Your movements are impeccable.” She later stated, sitting with him as they watched a festival of lights happening, seeing the balloons and lanterns rise into the sky on a distant hill… “You're swift but able to reflex fast enough to avoid dangerous obstacles during high speeds… But you act so leisurely while conducting yourself to be at such a fast frequency between sound and light… I must admit, even the mach speed comparisons of modern human technology would fail to fully see the limits of your capabilities,... Sonic.” She looked over to smile at him, before seeing something was wrong.

“Sonic? Have I… Spoken too frequently?” She looked down, worried that it was like Orbot said… “Am I… disturbing your peace and quiet?”

“... I have to admit, I’m not used to this.” Sonic’s voice turned a bit serious, and her colors returned to red and black…

“... I’m used to Amy’s laughter… Tails’s rambling about something he just learned about… Knuckles being loud and wanting to challenge me to do something other than laze about…” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, “Don’t get me wrong… I like the quiet… I like the peaceful… But this kind of quiet and peaceful..? Not so much.”

Sage, realizing it wasn’t her, looked back to Sonic. “My earlier analyses of you states you were once a loner. Has that time truly passed?” Her question made him chuckle.

“Well,” He smacked his lips, “Everyone’s on their own ‘personal journeys’, you know? I don’t want to get in their way…”

She thought about how she was ‘bothering’ her brothers at work… and seemed to understand what Sonic was trying to convey.

“They’ve gone off… and I’m proud of them… They’re growing up, Sage, and I… I still…”

“Feel… like you need them?”

He looked back to her.

“Like… You’re still wanting… to play games, hear more stories, show the outside world to them, fight more enemies… you crave more leisure time with them… than being alone anymore?”

“... I hate growing up.” He shrugged with his arms, “But it’s not something I can control.” He shook his head, “So why worry?” He looked to her with a returning smile, seeing she connected to something deep and profound in him.

“You crave adventure and freedom at your own pace and choice, too, don’t ya?” He held up a hand to her.

She looked to her own, remembering what Orbot said yet again… “We cannot touch.” She admitted, putting her hand through his own.

“I know,” He leaned up and–much like what happened with Tails–tried to make it look like they were locking hands together in a sign of friendship and strength in that bond.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”

They laughed together, “Still beating your predictions of me, eh?” He grinned widely.

“Hehe, you are–truly–an anomaly, but… I enjoy that you can do the impossible.” She nodded, “And grateful!”

“You too, Sage.”

She looked astonished from hearing that, tearing up.

“... You do the impossible for those around you, too. I know you can, I’ve seen it happen.”

“... Sonic…”

“You’re a hero, too. Even if we are on opposite sides of things. I know you’re not a bad guy, Sage.”

She looked away from him, dropping her hand down.

“You… Continue to surprise me… Sonic The Hedgehog.”

Then, the wind picked up as though a helicopter passing by, but instead, it was right above them.

The two looked up as Sonic blocked with an arm the blades of grass and debris of dirt clods trying to hurt his eyes.

“What’s going on?” He exclaimed.

“WHOHOHOO! You think you can just steal my daughter for an evening and get away with it!? I knew you were a teenager, Sonic, but this is beneath even you!”

“Eggman, please! Control yourself!”

Orbot’s worried voice and Eggman’s odd sentence structure had both the attention and alarm of Sonic and Sage.

“Father!” She cried out, as Sonic shrugged up at the large airship.

“All we did was hold hands, Eggman. Tsk, tsk. You shouldn’t hole your precious daughter up from enjoying more the splendors of life, Egghead!” He winked, cockily, and wiggled a pointer finger up at him.

“THE NERVE-!” Eggman roared from his speakers above, “If it weren’t for Cubot and Orbot holding me back, I’d come down there right now–SONIC–and beat the ever-living pulp out of you!!!”

Sonic snickered into his hand, “Someone’s protective.” He looked to Sage, “See that? They’re are people that miss your company, too.”

She nodded, “More than just coffee and management, I suppose.” She was so happy to hear that, her colors returned to white and green.

“FIIIRREEE!!” Eggman cried out, as missiles launched from the large airship.

Flying upwards, Sage holds out her arms apart, as though to protect and boldly stand before Eggman in front of Sonic.

“HOLD, HOLD!” Eggman cried out, as the missiles suddenly fizzled and shook in the air, wiggling about before changing trajectory and firing into the trees.

Due to the festival, most people thought the fires were part of the show, but Sonic quickly ran around to ‘suffocate’ the fires so they didn’t spread to the peaceful town.

“Father, I only left to deduce more about Sonic.”

“Oh, woe is me, you deceived me!?”

Sonic played along, being dramatic.

“Sage, how could you~”

He gripped his chest, falling to his knees as Eggman raised an eyebrow.

“Eh? Is that true?”

He gripped the mic, pulling it closer to his large mouth as he hollered through it.

“Your telling me you WEREN’T fraternizing with the enemy!?”

“Of course not, Father. He’s an inferior lifeform. We may respect him, but he is not one of our glorious metallic and digital empire.”

She put a hand to her heart, then turned to look back at Sonic and wink at him.

He winked back, too.

He then covered his eyes with his arm draped over his muzzle, and hit the ground. He laid down and threw a small tantrum.

“Whaa, whaa! I’ve been tricked! Bambozzled! How could you do this to me, Eggman? Use a cute girl like your daughter to make me feel special, Whaa! Whaa! I’ll never get over this!”

Eggman suddenly rose up.

“I can’t tell if I should be beaming with pride or feeling suspiciously like I’m being mocked…”

Orbot and Cubot looked to each other, obviously knowing that they were deceiving Eggman.

“Alright, alright, you two. Man up, Sonic. She’s just a child.”

He opened what looked like an electric wand with multiple hoops around it.

“Come on, Sage. It’s time to go home!”

Sage looks to Sonic, who gives her a sweet wave while leaning his head on his other hand.

She waves back, “As the saying goes,” She begins.

“Long time till I see you again.”

“... That’s-... Ah-ha. Right. Till we meet again.”

Sonic just nodded, thinking it was cute.

She zoomed her data up to connect with Eggman’s ship, and now that his daughter was safely returned, began to open fire on Sonic, who enjoyed taking down his airship. He smacked his butt and stuck out his tongue, lowering an eyelid with his finger to mock his attempt at trying to get him again.

Once at their far away ‘other’ base, since Eggman had so many–this being a obviously temporary station–Sage politely asked, “Father, might I continue my research on Sonic The Hedgehog another time?”

Reluctantly, he agrees, realizing she’s made a friend.

However… He sicks Metal Sonic to tag along, “Keep an eye on her… And see if you can get close to Sonic, give him a good swipe if he tries anything funny! Exterminate him if he dares to get sweet on my innocent daughter!”

Metal Sonic looks a bit annoyed, but goes off, as Orbot and Cubot joke that he’s allowing his daughter to go on a ‘date’. Haha!

[sugariimarii]

Uhhhhh so... bloons am I right? Alright, talked about it last post, and I actually do intend on following up on the silliness that is me talking about towers and their strengths and weaknesses, both 'cause it is indeed actually quite fucking fun AND I get to hear myself talk for awhile, so a win win really. Just know I probably won't do this very often, mostly because of how goddamn complicated this all is. Bloons isn't the deepest Tower Defence game out there, but there's still a lot to talk about with each towers, like crosspathing and synergies with other towers, and that takes a lot of brainpower for me because I am not smart in the slightest!

As some notes before I jump into all this, I wanna say that I am NOT a bloons expert. I play BTD6 pretty regularly and can play it well, but I am the type who still struggles with elite bosses (I'm bad at farming). I do however play a ton on CHIMPS, and I'm MOSTLY gonna be talking about the towers in the context of CHIMPS games. That doesn't mean I'll talk about them only in that context, but know that is the main perspective I am speaking of any tower on. I also wanna note that when I say late game, I mean Rounds 80-100, and I'll use the term "aftergame" for anything post 100.

That said, Dart Monkey! Silly creature, and suprsingly a very good tower overall! The biggest positive I can give Dart Monkey overall is how fucking cheap the bastard is, being the cheapest tower in the game to place down. Aside from middle path, you aren't really gonna be breaking the bank to get T5's (Or T4's) with the little fella. They are also great in the early game no matter what path you go, though I personally think one is the obvious pick of the bunch.

That cheapness wouldn't really matter too much if the tower didn't have good damage it could deal and honestly, only one path is kinda consistently good at that? Not to devalue the other paths or say they don'tdo at least alright damage, but there's one specific path with Dart that's very apparent in being the best in most situations, due to how well it carries into late game and it being relatively cheap for how fucking powerful it is. It's ironically its biggest weakness in my eyes, but I'll get to that momentarily; got two other paths to talk about afterall.

Top Path Dart sucks in most situations!

It's big draw (aside from being the cheapest of the three paths) is that it increases the pierce of the darts before lobbing spiked balls of death at the bloons, with each upgrade letting the ball last longer, before the T5 makes it a giant ball that explodes into smaller balls upon hutting any obstacle/the edge on the screen. I think the biggest positive is that the path overall is super cheap and is good at early game defense, and could even crush Round 63 in the right circumstances. It's also a god at smashing cermrics, seemingly making them evaporate on touch, can pop all bloon types (minus camo) with just a 500, and has some excellent pierce to it. However, there's a lot of issues with said path.

The tower does NOT scale well to later rounds on most maps. It's alright at dealing with anything but MOAB class bloons, so it starts drowning as the game goes on. It just doesn't have the raw damage to keep up overtime. It also plays best when it's placed with at the end of a straight line, which while that works out well on beginner maps, it's basically almost impossible to find on some harder maps, meaning it's gonna fail about and pray that it can hit something.

On top of that, the whole "breaking out into more balls" gimmick the 5xx Dart has is basically useless on basically all maps, due to the balls bursting in cone formation, meaning the balls quickly spread out and do almost no additional damage to shit like MOABs.

There are some positives though. This tower, if used on a map that's really inclosed (like Cornfield or Encrypted), can fucking DEMOLISH almost anything that gets near it. That cone shape doesn't matter too much in a small location, and combine that with it constantly shooting? The damage does actually quite stack up and makes it a real damn threat. It's a very situational tower in that regard, being only really good on a handful of maps, but man does it makes those maps it's bitch.

As for crosspathing, objectively speaking, Middle is 99% of the time the best way to go with this one. Sure it can't hit camo, but that's nothing some other monkeys can't help with (or just use a village). A 502 is viable in certain situations (ie its your main defence but you can’t get a village near it), but just go with faster attack speed if you really wanna melt some fuckers.

The biggest positive/negative about Top Path is its situational uses. On certain maps, it will fuck up the bloons in worse ways than the other two paths can ever dream of. On basically every other map, the other two paths are fucking LEAGUES better than it. It's really only a tower I can recommend only if you are using it on certain maps... with that said, I love this path all the same. Is it bad? Mostly yes. Is it fucking fun to use? HELL YEAH IT IS. Nothing more satisfying than seeing this really mediocre tower shread through higher layered bloons like its nothing. Personally, I think this path is very fun to use in a "can I get away playing like this?" sort of way, where you try to push yourself to the limit. And as one final positive, it's dirt cheap for a T5! Only around 18K on Hard pricing iirc, so it won't even really break the bank to get.

Overall, Top Path Dart is a guilty pleasure of mine, but can be a legitimately great tower on the right map. I wouldn't really seriously recommend it otherwise, but maybe use it to have some fun once in awhile. Could be a nice shake up to most of the bog standard strats.

I'll cover the middle path sometime later, this was a lot more writing than I expected tbh. I hope yall enjoyed reading this. If I got anything wrong or you didn't like reading it for whatever reason, I will NOT be taking criticism! (I am joking please tell me if I fucked up or how I could do better, love this sort of thing).

Thanks for reading, yall the real ones :3c