#writing is such an art and people need to treat it as such

[rhube]

Listen, having worked in university marketing, I am here to tell you that not all ads are evil or trying to deceive you. People work really hard at conveying precisely the information you need that will tell you if a product is for you.

There are people in advertising and marketing who are well aware of the laws about not deceiving customers and who think constantly about what they can provide evidence to claim, not making stuff up.

And yeah, they're trying to persuade you, but that doesn't automatically mean 'buy this piece of shit we're telling you is solid gold'. It means, 'we really believe in this, we have evidence that it's good and could be a great thing for you, but we need to find a way to tell you that and make you trust us' which takes a lot of thought.

And as a consumer there's a lot of stuff I just wouldn't know about if not for advertising. We need advertising to tell people there are solutions to problems, quality products, and fun things to get excited about.

Advertising isn't inherently BAD. And it's one of the few industries in which creative people can make a liveable wage with their art or writing.

The problem we have at the moment is that a lot of people with no training in making good ads, people who don't care about laws, or are based somewhere with less regulation, who are churning out annoying, misleading, not-accesdible garbage.

And these people aren't researching their audience and tailoring the content to people for whom its relevant. Instead a whole tech industry has grown up where people who know fuck all about marketing have companies that scrape and aggregate your data, who sell it to other tech companies that sell advertising space, which is bought up by yet another automated service that has been trained to get 'the best deal' for the company that wants to sell a product.

That's not how it works when you wanna make a useful ad. You should be doing customer research with your actual customers. Analysing the data you get to tailor both the advert and the advertising space.

But these automated systems talking to other automated systems don't do that.

Like, first off, the data is SHIT. It may not even differentiate content you noped out of from stuff you looked at for half an hour. And if it does, it treats all the content on the page equally. All the stuff you're ignoring is tagged as 'on sites this user spends a lot of time on'. Whereas human customer research, for which customers consent and usually receive some kind of reward, involves tracking eye movements, mouse movements, clicks, and an interview afterwards to ask what they were thinking about and why they stayed on one page over another. This is so much more helpful! It helps make content more useful to users and prevents wasted marketing effort.

But almost no one does it these days because, well, it's expensive. You gotta compensate the consumers you do your research with, design sensible things for them to test, have someone monitor and analyse what they do, and interview them after. That's very expensive compared to a bunch of lightning fast calculations that can all be automated. So companies don't pay to do it properly, and they don't actually tailor their ads to you, and they're not trying to be informative.

At best (and I can't stress enough how rare this is) ads that are based on this data and algorithms and/or machine learning deliver what will get you to look at the ad for longer or click the ad to go to a website. But if that means bright flashing colours and the world's tiniest 'x' so you can't actually close the ad without clicking through, these automated systems are designed to get you to do THAT, not buy the product.

Honestly, I know it sounds like I'm asking for sympathy for the devil, but I have seen this from the tech side, the marketing side, the researcher side, and the user doing the test. I have taken a course on content strategy and heard what academics in this field have to say, and it's honestly not evil. They're trying to adapt to an environment where you're constantly barraged with demands on your attention, so it is in the advertiser's best interest to be clear and tailored and not waste your time.

But unfortunately an awful lot of people have been sold on the idea that these automated systems ARE targeting people who would be interested with stuff that's relevant to them, and they're just NOT.

You can see it if you compare an entertaining TV ad by an established brand who can pay for the research to the vast majority of internet ads. They can be funny, entertaining, informative, even insightful. They can also be stereotyped and annoying of course, but on the whole they're much less of a headache than the nonsense funnel we get exposed to constantly online and in mobile games.

Tbh, advertisers, producers, and consumers have all been screwed over by VC-owned companies that are being squeezed from on high for every last drop of short term capital. And that means automating things because it's cheaper and quicker than human analysis, even if it means the whole thing becomes annoying, unhelpful garbage.

But scale it back and think about your artist friend. Your creator with a small etsy business. Your self-published author. Your inventor with a neat accessibility tool. They aren't producing groceries, but if they don't advertise, literally no one will know their products exist.

Advertising DOES have a good and important role. Under-regulated advertising in a toxic system not aimed at serving producers OR customers is hamstrung and cannot perform that role.

The only acceptable ads should be shit like "groceries on sale" and "free event at the local library"

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or to assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading 😘🤍🤍

Masterlist

[keehllo]

MiziTill and IvanTill analysis.

— First, understand Mizi, Till, and Ivan’s character.

Mizi’s guardian must’ve contributed to her naivety as arts of her with her guardian seemed sweeter than Till and Ivan’s interactions with aliens. Till was constantly thrown around and treated like garbage as his guardian ENJOYS TORTURE. Ivan is also treated horrible which contributes to his pessimistic personality compared to Mizi.

Mizi had something Ivan didn’t: Optimism. That’s most likely why Ivan didn’t hate Mizi when it was obvious Till has an infatuation with her. “When she smiled at me, my heart was reborn” which is obvious, Mizi’s brightness attracts people and which is why she’s able to make friends very easily. Ivan knew Till needed that, one of his ways of wanting to make Till as happy as Mizi does is by telling him how horrible Alien Stage is and wanting to run away with him.

I forgot which animatic but it’s shown that Ivan never had a red dot in his pupils until he saw Till. That must’ve been his sign of attraction. This same red dot is seen in Till’s eyes as he runs away with Ivan, he’s happy — until he thinks of Mizi. He remembers Mizi and thinks of what horrible things they’ll do to her if he leaves. The red dot disappears in Till’s eyes.

— Second, Till’s struggle with attachment.

Till clearly struggles with attachment as seen with Ivan, which is confirmed by VIVINOS on her Patreon, saying: “Till has a deep love-hate attachment with Ivan” which is one of the evidences that Till actually struggles so much with how to react when someone shows care for him.

What makes Ivan’s care different from Mizi’s though? Why couldn’t he accept Ivan’s but he could accept Mizi’s?

Ivan was close to him. He was always around him and even if they did fight, they would still hangout. While with Mizi, Till failed to even build a relationship with her. Evidence being Mizi’s intimacy score with Till: “He’s so distant… does he hate me?” And this is because that outside of rebelling, Till writes songs. It’s most likely a coping mechanism for him to vent his feelings. You can see in one of the animations as Till is writing something, Ivan is right next to him. This can be used as a symbol of their closeness. Even if Mizi wasn’t there, Ivan was.

Because of Till’s struggle with healthy attachment, he couldn’t react properly when someone genuinely built a bond with him, but he could with someone who barely hangs out with him.

This is a sign of avoidant attachment. Till’s struggle in how he can show love. After all, how can someone who has never been shown love by his own guardian give love? He was never even taught what actual love is.

— Third, difference between idolization and crushes.

According to VIVINOS on her Patreon she claims that Mizi is a “fantastical figure” to Till. As stated before, they barely interacted as Till was almost always in his own world (rebelling or writing music). Even though Till knows and speaks to Mizi, they don’t even have a bond anywhere close to how Till is with Ivan.

When you don’t build a bond with someone, you only perceive them as a figure. There’s very little to perceive about them when you aren’t close with them. This is how Mizi’s naivety and brightness comes into play, she was everything that Till isn’t. She isn’t a pessimistic, traumatized jerk who hits his own friend (Ivan) just because he gets frustrated with them.

Because of his trauma, he wanted to feel that too. Till put Mizi on a pedestal. This is IDOLIZATION. It’s a way to cope, a form of escapism from his harsh reality.

How can I be so sure it’s that? You can see it in Round 6. Mizi, already going through Round 1, is traumatized. She’s seen the worst. In Till’s flashback, she pictures Mizi in her Anakt Uniform when she was still innocent.

Conclusion: Till does love Ivan, but because of his attachment issues, he didn’t acknowledge that.

[isekyaaa]

With the amount I want to give writing advice sometimes one would think that I am an amazing writer lmao.

[katerinaaqu]

I have already mentioned the chnges to my initial reblog. Literally the most iconic parts are changed, Circe, Sirens, Charybdis Skylla Phaeakes etc. I have analyzed those in my original comment to this streak: Lotus Eaters are not a tribe of friendly people are some sort of creature, Polyphemus doesn't eat them and mock the laws of Xenia, apparently he has a reason or excuse to do what he does, Odysseus doesn't reveal his name because he was seccluded in a cave and he as not only exhausted and furious after watching the cyclops eat his men one by one and feel proud for his achievement, in Epic he reveals it out of spite because Athena triggers him (he had no Athena with him in the Odyssey). He doesn't stay a month in Aeolia, he doesnt stay a year with Circe. He doesn't need to sell himself to Circe apparently a tear jerking story was enough (Hermes tells him he has no chance of refusing her bed and Circe didn't need to seduce him to kill him in the Odyssey she was a complicated persona). He doesn't get a single piece of information from Tiresias on how to move and how to break his curse, he doesn;t speak to the spirits of the underworld including his mother who tels him that she didn't die WHILE waiting but she died BECAUSE she was waiting for him and there is a difference) Odysseus doesn't hear the sirens. In the Odyssey we have literally the most iconic scene ever where he ties himself on the mast and hears their song and his men row for dear life till they get out of there in Epic for some reason we have had whatever that scene was where they kill them. In Epic he doesn't gear up to protect his men from Skylla, he sends them to death himself. In the Odyssey he clearly tries to protect them. His men don't spend weeks in hunger to slaughter the cattle of Helios, their doeath doesnt come as a hubris result but again Zeus written like a jerk again that makes Odysseus choose. Odysseus didn't escape Charybdis hanging from the fig tree for dear life BEFORE Ogygia and of course whatever the hell we ot to the last saga. Telemachus was treated equally poorly. Telemachus in the Odyssey had no problem fighting. His problem was that the suitors were abusing the laws of Xenia and he couldn't send them away. Athena doesnt make him do some fist fight she encourages him to travel and find information on his father and of course God Games is just nope. No god had problem letting Odysseus go and Zeus least of all. In fact he mentions how fond he is of Odysseus and that he couldn't help him because his hands were tied so far due to his hubris against Poseidon.

-Ah here we go again! The classic I get all the time! When I say I dislike this or that trope then I get the question "so you are against retellings?" literally the question "you dislike abstract art? You must be against modern art in general!" that is literally not how it works! I dislike the specific type of "retellings" that use nothing of the original material or that they screw it over. And on occasion like or dislike comes to what vibes with you. No you absolutely didn't get that right no. In fact I have seen many beautiful retellings and one of them was like 90% accurate to the Odyssey and it was a masterpiece. Prince Of Egypt is a classical example. It is a loose adaptation, doesn't follow the bible to the T and yet it respects the story and the culture and didn't make Moses...slaughter the men of the Pharaoh himself or whatever! The iconic scene of the parting of the sea was respected. I myself am literally writing retellings. My style though is mostly following the sources or combining them.

-That is very nice of you and I hope it helps but yes using material such as this as substitute to studies is just stupid indeed.

-Ella the Enchanted is a classical example on how one can create an original story while based on a tale. Even if the character is even nsinuating the name of Cinderella is still not the same story! Just like Brother Where Art Thou is an original story heavily inspired by the Odyssey but is not Odyssey. Also omitting cruel details to make a story kid-friendly is differentthan changing the most crucial part of the plot. What Epic did with the Sirens for example is the equivalent of..dunno making Cinderell lose her other shoe too and make her wear a hat instead! Like taking an iconic moment from a story and turn it to something else. Humans do love to see that sure. But not all do. Like I said I love for example the classical movie "The King and I" or what was the name. Thaiwan people hated it. It is a matter of perspective. I cannot blame them for not liking the movie!

Oh yes it crossed the line waaaay too long ago.

-I agree. That is the reason it is so popular indeed. What I mean is that more often whatnot this exploitation made the stories unrecognizable and they completely disregard what they were about at times.

-Again...exactly but what we got is not a retelling! What we got was an original story without original characters! Which is not what a retelling is! A retelling doesn;t go "screw your plot" it takes creative liberties that do not harm the story otherwirse is not a retelling it is simply notthe same story Again....I didn't say that he NEEDED to respect 100% I said he had no reason to pic this if he was going to screw the plot. And again I honestly don't care what the thought is in this case like I said I am personally disappointed a lot with how Odyssey is treated. Or how the word "retelling" is understood for that matter. And again I didn't like the result. I beieve that is valid for me to say And again that is my probem that I see disporportionately these type of "adaptations" over actual respective adaptation to material and AGAIN I didn;t say he has no right to do what he did. He absolutely does. I am only explaining why I dislike it

-AGAIN That is my problem! Because is not how the story was! Again I think his trip would have served much more the video game logic! Whatever we got there was a brush off and completely rushed piece to me. And Teemachus was not wondering about his father that he wanted to be legendary like him. The kid was even wondering if Odysseus was really his father at that point! Totally different feeling totally different objective. And that is my problem with the word retelling nowadays. Retelling means "i tell the same story in my own words" not "i have other plans than to follow the key parts of the plot"

And to answer to your other note as well because I got a bit disoriented getting bombarded with separate parts of reblogs;

-Exacty. He could have named his character literally anything he wanted and make an original story and still reference to the Odyssey. At least that would make more sense in my brain.

Absoltey not. I would argue that is less than 50% at this point. And no technically it is called "Disney's Cinderella" to assume they are not retelling the Brother Grimm version and Brother Grimm is also only one of the versions. Arguably the original cincerella is a story coming from Hellenistic Egypt. But again ironically Cinderella was much more accurate to the OG material and they did not change the most iconic parts like the pumpkin careiage the midnight trick and the slipper fit despite the liberties they got the same as I said with Prince of Egypt and the bible. And I will ay it one more time; likes and dislikes often have to do with what vibes to me. Most Disney movies vibed to me one way or another (and I still speak on the things they did right and what they do wrong in comparison to their OG material). Epic didn't

If it is just a matter of expectations to you then that is valid. To me is not that simple and again if I see something that is p to mess such an iconic thing like the Odyssey, especially something so beloved to me, I have to believe that the changes are generic to the story and that they give me the twist without harming the story or that the story is altered in such a way that is vibing to me in general. That absolutely didn't happen in the Epic case

I'll take your word for that. Not fond of the remakes of the films much

Absolutely and I said that from the very beginning. I was clearly talking to people that share similar ideas with me and we discuss our opinions. It always would end up to the "agree to disagree" thing. But yes to that last part we absolutely agree and even loyal fans of the musical iked out to that.

New Epic saga and it's horrible... to give you an idea, Odysseus fought Poseidon, stole his trident and made him beg for mercy

hmmm a god begging a mortal for mercy is not exactly on par with Greek religion and stories. How did that scene made it into the final version?

[anglerflsh]

solution for intrusive thoughts

[phantoms-lair]

Izuku 1/2 - better name pending -Snip

"You haven't used your quirk." Izuku looked up from the snack he got at the vendors. "The first two events of the Sports Festival are over." Todoroki stated. "You could have handled the obstacle course with ease with your wings, no one would have been able to touch you. Instead you handicapped yourself."

"This is not a criticism I need to hear from someone who's only been using half their quirk the entire year." Izuku pointed out.

"It's not a criticism, I just wanted to know if...if we're doing it for the same reason." There was an edge of desperation in his voice. An almost need that somebody would understand.

"It's not just that I'm not using it." Izuku unscrewed the the cap of his water and pour some on his exposed arm, where it beaded up unnaturally. "I've made it so I can't. There was a time when these water-based transformation quirks were a lot more common, so they developed a type of waterproof soap to prevent accidents." "Why?' Todoroki breathed.

"Because," Izuku seemed to falter for a second before steeling himself. "I love my quirk. I love how useful it can be in being a hero. But I am NOT my quirk. My potential, my capacity to help, to grow, to achieve, those things are me and not a magical transformation. So many people see a hero and their potential as as nothing more than their quirk and they're wrong." Izuku ended his impromptu speech with a snarl.

Todoroki sat down hard. Blood pounded in his ears as Midoriya's words repeated themselves again and again in his ears I am not my quirk.

Because his quirk was all he'd even been. He'd been born for it, his siblings had been born in their attempts to make what would be his quirk. His childhood, his training, everything he'd ever been was because of his quirk, and the bastard that gave him half of it.

I am not my quirk

They're wrong

"Todoroki, are you okay?"

"Do you really believe there's more to me than my quirk?"

Izuku was quiet for a moment. "Todoroki, who do I need to have Sensei beat up?"

Sheer confusion brought him back to his sense for a bit. "What?" "If I beat them up I'm going to get expelled. Sensei, he -he really doesn't care." "He doesn't care about going toe to toe with the number 2 pro hero?" Todoroki asked skeptically. To his surprise, Midoriya grinned. "Well, the last pro hero was a hugely disappointing fight, so this would probably be a treat."

"Who was the last hero?"

"Not gonna name names, but someone who thought me being quirkless meant I should be abused and be thankful for the opportunity to serve my betters."

That was sick. "I hope your Sensei kicked his ass." Izuku grinned. It wasn't a nice grin. "He did." Then his grin faltered. "I was a late bloomer. Eight years old." "Did things get better?" Todoraki asked. "Almost immediately." Izuku said bitterly. "But that was almost worse because, things didn't really change, I just wasn't someone less evolved, so how they treated me was wrong. But...that's not why it was wrong and the next quirkless person or person with an unactivated quirk would be treated just how I was. So I want to change the idea that quirks are what's important. I'm going to do my best to win the sports festival quirkless. I'll show everyone just what the quirkless can do!"

Todoroki's hands gripped his knees. "My father, Endeavor - the number two hero. He bought my mother because he wanted her quirk. He wanted to create a strong enough quirk to unseat All Might. It took him four tries to succeed. He doesn't really care about my siblings, just me - his masterpiece." "And your mother?" Izuku was almost afraid to ask.

"She's been in a mental hospital since I was small."

"Consider his ass kicked." Izuku took a swing of his water. "Todoroki...I completely support you not using your fire today, but you're going to have to use it in hero work eventually. So," Izuku grinned. "How would you feel about using it in a way impossible for Endeavor?"

"Impossible for Endeavor?" Todoroki tilted his head like a confused cat. "For all his faults as a human being, he's a master of the flame."

Izuku snorted. "Master? His abilities are no fire, yes fire, and unreasonable amount of fire. What I'm talking about is being a rescue hero."

Todoroki let out a small laugh at Izuku's description of Endeavor's capabilities. The first Izuku had ever heard him make. "What do you mean a rescue hero? I'm clearly most suited for combat."

"And according to the people growing up the only thing I was suitable for was a training tool for actual quirked people to practice their quirks on, so fuck was people say we're 'suited' for'." Izuku paled. "Please don't tell my Mom I said that. But your quirk would be perfect for rescue work."

"How so?"

"You can make fire at will. You could keep people warm in an avalanche - and your ice could do the opposite in an overheating situation. You could be light in a cave in or night rescue. You could combine your fire and ice to make fresh water, or use your fire to cook. Your ice could act as supports to prevent further collapse, kind of like Rock Lock's quirk. You would be an AMAZING rescue hero. And all of it would be using both sides of your quirk to help and comfort rather than just attack. And that's kinda of what I meant by something Endeavor wasn't capable of. He's sort of a combat monster, for a given value, but that's all he is."

That was...that was a lot of things no one had ever told him before. He was told since his quirk appeared that he was going to be the best hero, and to do that he needed to take down villains. But to Midoriya, he had potential outside of combat. To help those that needed it the most without causing harm. That the fire he hated so much could be used as a gentle warmth.

Midoriya was right. That was impossible for his father.

"A rescue hero. I...I think I like that. Thank you for you guidance."

"We both have something to prove." Midoriya he'd out his water bottle like a toast. "Let's mess with their conceptions."

Todoroki grinned and tapped his own water bottle to Midoriya's. "Let's"

~

"Your sensei is BATTLE GRANNY!!!!!!!"

[sluckythewizard]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, are you okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a mouse to a snake.

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

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

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

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

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[jacksprostate]

yo dude i was really curious and i just read yr primal fear fic, just wanted to say that your writing is genuinely so impressive.. not a lot of people could take a prompt like this and actually give it so much substance, your stuff shows such a deep level of understanding of the media ur working with +intuitiveness.. like characterizing shit well from 90s movies is crazy hard and u like immediately got how to write an in-character martin vail so if u can do that u can do any thing im like blown away 🙈 cant wait to see what u do in the future with yr original stuff, youre a beast with the pen ✍️✍️

sobbing for real dude.... this is so kind... "shows such a deep understanding of the media youre working with" truly there is few better compliments 😭 the 'from 90s movies' part is hard as hell sometimes yeah... I feel like I understand the psyche pretty well but there's so much just general milieu that's easy to just... not even realize is relevant. Of course it helps that most of my readers are also not particularly familiar with the 90s lmao but. Idk I try to keep that post-fall of the soviet union pre-9/11 immense nihilism in mind. Fortunately I have some friends who have a pretty strong lock on the vibe for one reason or another who help too— I assume they'd tell me if it was a 'he would not fucking say that' situation haha. It's funny wrt Martin Vail because I do think I did him pretty passably.. I don't always mesh into characters well per se; like for Tyler, I think I understand him pretty well but it's still tricky to figure out how to actually word what he says — I'm tempted to outsource to @a-forsteri who has a goddamn LOCK on it... we should collab, bestie... but regardless yeah Vail was an interesting one for sure. You only get so much characterization of him in the movie, really. Thanks for reading and I'm really glad you enjoyed it, comments like this are what keep me going fr :')

[dbphantom]

Hate having adhd went to go work on my fallout modpack, got distracted while going to disable the steam overlay, ended up in the points shop, went to go edit my profile, decided to change my pfp, found a buried folder I forgot existed, found some old Veneer art I forgot existed, spent 45 minutes looking at all the old photos, STILL HAVE NOT TOGGLED ONE SIMPLE OPTION THAT SHOULD'VE TAKEN 30 SECONDS AT MOST

[bizlybebo]

*shaking them back and forth by the shoulders vigorously* STOP TRYING TO MONETIZE MY TALENTS !!!!!!!!!

[lightbulb-warning]

local audhd having idiot has to do something not related to their hyperfixation and fuCKING EXPLODES!!1!!!!!! /j

[squirreltastic]

Other writers: we want comments we love it we yearn for them we need the serotonin keysmashes count please

Me: DO NOT 🔪🔪🔪🔪 leave hearts at the door and stay 6 feet away !!!

Other visual artists: Plz reblog plz plz plz we are so thirsty for serotonin

Me: plz plz plz keysmash in the tags I need iiiitttt

I don't know why my brain is this way.

[tsunadadudi]

Posting personal pieces that are deeply reflective makes you find out who your friends are in a lot of ways

[arklay]

have a diana comm in progress again 🥰