#is going to be sad when they retire to their own dimension

[thefluxqueen]

*kicks the door down* i NEED to know more about darkwoods!Snake our timezones don’t match enough to me to play and find out for myself i NEED the c!Snake infodump pls

Why hello there Ghast :) I Have Many Thoughts thank u for asking.

okay so like

Snake originated in my old mc server, the piss pit smp, which i will henceforth refer ta as the pit for politeness sake. in that friend group i go by Snake more so my chara became c!Snake and the name carried over inta darkwoods :) on that note! their like, timeline is starting in the pit -> kaizo caverns -> darkwoods

to expand on alla that, in the pit they were a simple bird guy potion seller who was childhood friends w/ my friend's chara Bee and tormented the leader of the local city state and the server's owner/god for fun <3 Alot happened w/ the gods of the server and it ended in my friend beetle’s chara slowly destroying the integrity of the world itself in their grief, and somewhere near the end of it all when everyfin was tearin itself apart, Snake.. slipped through the cracks. not on purpose, but while everyone else had the help of another god to escape the world, Snake fell through on their lonesome. the thing about the pit is it was a server not really, ment to be left, so the world didn't really take kindly them doing so.

Snake ended up in Kaizo Caverns, a super hostile map i was very obsessed w/ for a while like right before joining darkwoods, so my brain was like 'hey wouldnt it be funny to connect these-' and what that lead to is me tormenting my little bird guy <33 by virtue of kaizo caverns bein in version 1.2.5 Snake's wings just, dont work and for pragmaticism he ties them together and to himself so they dont move/get in the way.

i personally played the map for like 18 somefin hours but i translated that inta Snake bein stuck in there for like, several months, dont really got a specific timespan for that

i kept a death counter while playin cause i am very much not good at video games, and those deaths + the general trials and tribulations of havin ta eat rotten flesh at several points and conserving food/resources and spending an increadibely long time traversing the caverns while on edge, all together form inta Woah This Bird's Traumatized LMAO

During those many months Snake was basically entirely isolated, Except! sometime pretty early on they found a half busted headset, which they procceded ta wear constantly but only Occationally got any sort of signal. those brief moments are how they met @kishdoodles' character redac! snake got a reprieve from the loneliness and over the months they went from strangers to friends even if it was just in snapshots, this was basically me rationalizing why kish let me immediatley move inta their house/backyard when i joined the server lmao

after snake completes kaizo caverns they like, fall Again inta darkwoods (havent really thought too hard inta that transition specifically akjwrk woo dimension travel!) and i ORIGINALLY deemed darkwoods his retirement arc after alla that shit in the caverns,,, little did i know,,,

i join darkwoods and im faffin about, live in a hole behind kish's cabin/farm, sign my soul away to @renchant and join Deep Dark Deals, yaknow, the ush. and then i decide ta make the abyss. the thing is, when i was buildin the first abyss it was completely seperate ta Snake's whole deal i was like this is just ta torment my friends its got its own personal lore but its not connected ta my guy yaknow. But Then I Built The Second One

somewhere in the process of building that i decided that oh hey, wouldnt it be cool if Snake built this one, since the whole deal w/ the abyss is that it infects people ta build other ones. and now here we are kajwekrkjewkj

Snake has been once again buried and isolated, see the lines from the book they wrote thats in the 2nd abyss: 'a person made for the sky buried over and over and over again.' 'Must be fate at this point. Rooted to the earth whether I like it or not.' ummm,,, sad! 

several consequences of the 2nd abyss is that its slowly sapping Snake's like, ability to feel emotion and kinda retaining that for itself, and 2.) since Snake went completley missing, Redac went to hunt them down and uhhhh died in the 2nd abyss! whoops! kish wrote a will for them that's at their cabin and  o guh gwe ;-; that shit makes me tear up every time i read it,,, wtf,,,, mc rp really hits diferent man.

annnd thats where we are atm! <3 in regards ta like, personality Snake is basically just me but like, a bit more abrassive/assholely id say, i once described them as 'distinguished fucked up' durin the pit days n tbh that still tracks LMAO

other miscellaneous things are that for like, each period of snake's life they have a specific tool they hold onta the most: fishing rod for the pit, sword for the caverns, axe for early darkwoods, and pickaxe for post abyss :3, snake's got a lil bee charm he useda have in his hair but moved ta his waist that like represented his childhood friend :0 ive recently decided that they also keep an old feather of redac's on the same string, and snake not havin a soul definitely has an effect on how easily the abyss infected them/fucked em up

ON LAST THING, on darkwoods, I have a habit of wearing player heads insteada a helmet cause we have that plugin that drops heads n i think its fun, and i do this Constantly enough so that you and other members have mentioned u really only see my skin’s face on heads of my own scattered around LMAO. the way i draw this is as Snake wearin hand painted masks of people’s faces <3 just girlie things

and thats basically it! i Will forget somefin n come back later but uhhh bird infodump be upon yeh :3 have some doodles: (Old doodle of pit era Snake and post abyss snake w/ a Pilot mask)

#darkwoods smp #Snake #spain speaks #Inbox #this is like. almost 1k O_O i like my bird guy :)

[konako]

Inspired by the question about Lacey's style and how ironic it would be if she preferred sneakers. And, of course, also the gorgeous art accompanying those questions. Sneakers come into play in the second part. 

Superheroes, Sneakers & Seductions. Part 1/2. 

Lacey never thought herself to be complicated. Everything about her was simple. Simple in terms that she did what she wanted and never let anyone think otherwise. She did what she wanted, she went where she wanted, she did whomever she wanted and she sure dressed however she liked. Nothin' complicated 'bout that. 

Maybe the other people sometimes thought so about her, but it wasn't true. Some needed a hard lesson, a proper Lacey 101 to learn that truth. Gold learned that the hardest. Kept woman or not, no one ordered Lacey around. Gold really should be counting his blessings that it was his car and cane that took the brunt of Lacey's displeasure. It could have been worse. Much. 

Another reason that some of these people thought of Lacey as a different person was because… she was, apparently. Lacey had no memory of being anyone but herself, however she did hear the story. About magic, Dark Curses, fake personalities and travellers from other dimensions. It was all rather crazy and laughable, still enough had believed in that superstition to make it a reality of living in Storybrooke. Part of the customs. When in Rome and all that. 

Though, Lacey did find some things that made her less convinced it was only superstition. There were letters and notes written not in her familiar handwriting. Lacey was left-handed, which made her script sharp and orderly, leaning to the left, but the notes she found were in beautiful, flowing cursive. There were receipts written out to Belle French with the same account number as her on her own credit card, which had Annalace Collard written on it now, as had nameplate next to the doopbel to her apartment. Everything seemed to be as if Lacey had always been there and yet there were traces of this 'Belle' person hidden throughout any and everything Lacey owned. 

The most egregious example being her wardrobe. Filled to the brim with dresses, blouses, skirts and a wonderful collection of high heels, it nonetheless felt a bit out of sync with who Lacey knew herself to be. She would never wear yellow. And yet there were dresses and shirts and an assortment of garments in all shades of yellow in that wardrobe or little hats with flowers in them. She would never wear pastels or cardigans. There were a number of items not up to muster. Too bright, too innocent, too dolled-up, too retired old grandma. For some reason that was beyond her, Lacey hadn't just thrown out all the clothes she would never wear and instead just shoved them into the furthest corner, into that big wooden chest, and out of the way. Now, her closet was far less full and in need of diversifying.

And that is how she found herself on the mission to scour every single shop there was to find in town. Not that the array of choices was incredible, but she would manage. 

It was another hunt for new clothes that brought her face to face with someone curious. And that someone, in turn, made her think… was she more complicated than she thought?

Ruby Lucas, also going by 'Red'. Waitress and seemingly a part-time superhero. 

Easily dismissed out of hand at first, Ruby had warranted a second look. Lacey first spotted her in the Diner and the sight was quite worth further and closer inspection. But she was with Gold at the time. The man was useful and jealous, there was no need to rock the boat. Their explosive parting of the ways was still to come. But even then this tall, lanky brunette had caught Lacey's eye. Another curious thing was that she sure did notice how Ruby would look at her. The glances, the sadness and the longing weren’t disguised well – or at all, really. Intriguing. The girl probably knew this Belle, whoever that was, was it that Ruby now saw in Lacey? Was she sad that Belle was gone or was there more to it? Lacey had seen a gleamer beyond the sadness, the tiny little ember of something not even remotely innocent. A glimpse of something more primal, sealed and caged by the societal norms, but more in-tune with Lacey and her own inner beast. It's just that Lacey let it roam free and not be hidden. 

Then one day, Lacey saw Ruby help locate and rescue a spooked cat for an old lady. The little rascal had jumped out of her arms at the sound of a honking car, zipped away and wormed his way in-between the wall of a shop and a bench. Well, some would have called it a bench, but Lacey called it a ridiculous monstrosity. Cast whole out of dark metal and polished to an almost glossy sheen – the bench was a mix of gothic architecture and modern metal sculpture. One of the few testaments to the old eccentricities of the Mayor still remaining in the town. The thing about the bench was that it was, in a word, massive. It wasn't even bolted to the pavement or the wall, what would be the point? Lacey felt her heart give a bit of a painful squeeze as she heard the pathetic little meow of the kitten wedged now up against the wall, somewhere underneath all that metal. He was probably stuck or too scared to try and get out on his own. And then Lacey proceeded to witness something incredible. Ruby Lucas jogged up to the old lady, obviously dressed for running – sneakers, leggings, sports-singlet, hair pulled up in a long ponytail, and a music player strapped to her bicep. They exchanged a few words and then…  then Ruby had rolled her shoulders, squared up and picked up the freaking metal monstrosity! She moved one of its corners away from the wall, retrieved the kitten, and put it back again. Lacey gawked. It felt like she was the only one who had truly seen what had happened as every other bystander just kept on moving. The old lady kept thanking Ruby as she emptied her water bottle in a few long gulps. And Lacey also kept staring up until Ruby bid the old lady goodbye and went back to her run. Yeah, that indeed was an amateur superhero, for damned sure. 

The face-to-face encounter (besides the occasional visit to the diner) happened a bit later in the one and only Storybrooke boutique. The shop was tucked into an alcove along the furthest end of the Main Street. It had no need for any fancy advertising or to stand out as the competition for this establishment was pretty much nonexistent. And the top people of the town would be shopping here anyway. Lacey rubbed shoulders with the Mayor, the new DA and Head Nurse in here. Not that it was completely exclusive. Catering only to the elite would put the shop out of business, owing to the tiny number of said elites living in the town. Thus the owner made a smart decision to be more inclusive, both in price brackets and the selection of the merchandise. Lacey had met the owner on many occasions by now. Thin and tall platinum blonde in her thirties, Margot had the looks of a model right off the catwalk, but also the eyes and attitude of a bird of prey. Naturally, she and Lacey got on like a well-matched pair. Lacey learned that Margot was the stepsister of that plain Ella girl, a recent mother getting ready to marry her own provincial 'prince'. That relation was the least interesting thing about Margot, really. But what was beneficial about being friends with the proprietor of The Midnight boutique was that Lacey got tips on when the new inventory got in. 

So on such an occasion she had run into none other than Ruby Lucas. Their chance encounter had been surprising and intriguing and promising. Though, a lot of it was laced with a dose of awkwardness. Before and after. Which, again to Lacey's surprise, only increased her interest. Pulling different reactions out of Ruby was as easy as it was to see it all on her face. Still, that first look was quite something. The one Ruby had when Lacey threw open the curtain of the changing cabin and they found themselves nose to nose. That look was priceless. Ruby had not yelped or yelled or waved her arms or even tried to attack the intruder. Her eyes became huge and she opened her mouth – but no sound came out. Ruby had all the appearance of a fish out of water, completely at a loss as to what to do with the situation. Which gave Lacey a few seconds to react first. She honestly had not done it on purpose, it was just that this cabin was on the left, behind the row of clothing racks and with another full-length mirror right next to it. Lacey always took this cabin. And she probably would have apologised for the intrusion immediately, but.. well, the view halted her train of thought right off. Lacey knew Ruby was attractive, that was clear from one cursory look, yet there was so much only a few side-glances could possibly reveal. And revealed she was, my oh my! Ruby was trying to pick out a new outfit, judging by the assortment of shirts and pants and shorts and other items waiting on the hooks inside the cabin. Very worthwhile goal, as far as Lacey was concerned. The unfortunate consequence of poor timing was that in the moment the curtain drew open, Ruby was in-between outfits. Well, unfortunate from Ruby's point of view, that is. From where Lacey was standing it was quite the lucky draw. Ruby was barefoot, standing on the carpet and clad only in two-piece lingerie. Deep-red with lace and nice detailing, it was obvious Ruby was matching it to the new items she was thinking of buying. And… damn. Lacey racked her eyes up and down Ruby’s body as if an invisible force was in charge of her eyes and head. Long, long lean legs, slender hips, the absolute flat plane of the stomach with abdominal muscles flexed in response to the shock; the lines and curves of the chest, the tense muscles of those shoulders and neck and then – finally, all the way back up to that sharply cut jaw and nose and cheekbones and those wide, wide eyes. Damn. Damn! If there was this inkling of an idea running silently at the back of Lacey's brain before, then in this moment it had materialised into an inevitable, unavoidable certainty – Lacey was going to seduce that girl. Catching herself, she closed the curtain and apologised. Instead of leaving though, Lacey kept talking through the curtain: complimenting the fashion choices Ruby was making and ranting about her own indecision with the newest additions to the boutiques selection. Whatever small spark of genius in Lacey's head prompted that course of action, it had been right on the money. Ruby came out of the cabin, dressed, embarrassed, but not completely alienated. Lacey apologised again, she was not above relinquishing a piece of her pride if that was going to get her in this girl's good graces. Amongst other things. And, after all, she was the one who barged in, if on accident.

As an apology Lacey invited Ruby for a cup of coffee, her treat, and wouldn't take no for an answer. They went to the Diner, picked a spot out of the way and sat down. Lacey had to put a moratorium on all things waitressing. She really had to since Ruby kept glancing at the girls serving food or at the entrance to the kitchen. Their conversation was awkward at first, and not just because of the mishap earlier. But Lacey was anything if not inventive and determined when it came to going after someone she laid her eyes on. It took a bit of effort, but Lacey managed to break the ice enough that Ruby felt at ease. She still caught herself staring or making a comment about something that was not about Lacey and then having to backtrack. Lacey didn't mind. Whatever that 'Belle' was to Ruby, she was important. Well, Lacey was not one to back down from a challenge. After a while in the Diner, Lacey paid the bill and they left, however before they parted ways Lacey brought up restocking at The Midnight she got a tip from Margot about. And another one was to happen in a day or two. Lacey once again complimented Ruby's taste and style, which got her an embarrassed, but genuinely proud smile. So Lacey moved on to the next part of her cunning plan. She suggested that they should go together. Help each other out. A few tips and a different view would not hurt, right? Would Ruby leave Lacey in trouble or could she help a girl out? Of course, the amateur superhero that she was, Ruby agreed. 

Lacey planned her seduction to take a date. Two at most. But she underestimated Ruby Lacas. Lacey heard something about how the people in Storybrooke changed "after the curse", whatever that meant, and how Ruby was the wild one back then. But this Ruby was a tough nut to crack. Helpful, enthusiastic, unsure of herself and a little bit oblivious. At least, to what Lacey was doing. 

The first time they met up, Lacey used the excuse of having missed breakfast to get Ruby to sit down for brunch with her before they would go to The Midnight. She knew Ruby would be concerned, and on top of that Lacey had seen this girl eat. It was a small wonder how Ruby could keep her impressive physique with the voracious appetite she displayed. They talked a little bit more and Lacey could feel that awkwardness dissipating. Yes, there were these contemplative looks from Ruby from time to time, like she was not quite entirely sure Lacey was who she was. Like there just might be someone else hiding behind an excellent sense of humor and self-assured additude. Lacey knew, of course, what it was about. But there was nothing to find by digging deeper or whatever. Lacey was not complicated. And that was all there was to it. She wouldn't hold it against Ruby. However, at some point dwelling in the past should be replaced by looking to the future. Which Lacey had grand plans for. 

After brunch they went to The Midnight and browsed the racks together. Ruby was the first to try on the new items. And Lacey made sure to show her appreciation. Even more leather pants and a sleeveless blouse or two were right on the money, very much in tune with Ruby's current style. Though, one shift dress Lacey had to veto. It could have worked with its above the knee length and being fitted just enough to tease the lines of Ruby's figure while remaining free flowing. What caused Lacey to shut it down was the colour and pattern – pale white, almost pastel and with an assortment of small birds depicted here and there without much order to it. Yes, this sort of a walking crime-scene had no place to be worn by Ruby. Lacey thought she heard Ruby murmur something about "Snow would have liked it," after she sent her to change, but Lacey dismissed it. It was about to be her turn, and she had been preparing. 

The thing was, Lacey specifically had chosen badly. She had sabotaged her own outfit selection on purpose. To both prove that she was in need of Ruby's help and soften any blows Lacey could have caused with her critique. So this time she tried on a few dresses that looked rather out-of-place on her. One black and white piece was gorgeous, but tailored to someone much taller than Lacey. So the hem ended up around her mid-calves when it should have been just below the knee and the waistline was all wrong. Lacey saw the twitch at the corner of Ruby's lips and the momentary sparkle in her eyes, but in her defence she managed to suppress the laughter and was much more sympathetic after. Another dress was just the opposite. It was black, the fit and cut was perfect, it hugged Lacey's figure in all the right places, and ended high enough above the knee to be enticing, but not too high to be inappropriate for a social function. The problem was with the designer. What possessed them to put a red heart on the abdomen area with the words "Peace, Love, Heart" written in it? What, indeed. Lacey turned this way and that way in front of the mirror, loving the reflection over her shoulder, but hating whenever the tacky sign would appear. She almost forgot her mission in her outrage at the pompous idiot from Paris or wherever the designer was from. Thankfully, Ruby agreed with her assessment wholeheartedly. There are good places for signs like that and there are bad ones. Saying that, Ruby pointed at herself and Lacey had to agree. Ruby had showed up to this date in a tattered t-shirt with a snarling leopard underneath her leather jacket. And yeah, she was pulling it off. At the end of the day, Lacey went home empty-handed, but Ruby had a new The Midnight-branded paper bag on her arm. That caused the superhero to become sad and apologetic, which was sweet, but Lacey put a stop to it right fast. There always was next Friday, right? Or was Ruby thinking of giving up on helping Lacey out? No? It's brunch on Friday then. 

Lacey had made a point of dropping by before Friday had arrived. She got take-out. Lacey used that as an excuse to rant with Ruby again about that clueless designer. She even got Ruby to make a few jabs of her own accord. And then a few days later she coincidentally was walking right past the corner just happened to be on Ruby's weekend evening's jogging route, the little things. It was a good way to start a conversation. Though, that was all Lacey did. She sure did not want to be mistaken for a stalker. Her game was of strictly consensual variety and for mutual benefit.

Friday arrived and as promised (or threatened) Lacey showed up for early brunch. They found themselves so invested in the conversations, from small talk to the rather deep dive into appreciation for vintage cars, that over an hour had flown by after brunch and they were still sitting in the booth. Finally, they left and made their way to The Midnight. Again, Lacey insisted Ruby should go first. And damn, the girl really did have great taste! Picking a winner on the first try! Ruby tried on a pair of high-waisted pants, deep dark-blue and tight-fitted. There were zippers stitched into the sides at an angle, decorative obviously – no way anyone could use pockets with how skin-hugging they were. She paired it up with ankle booties, a white crop top with a red logo and a sheer black shirt unbuttoned and off one shoulder on top. To say that Lacey could not hide her appreciation (that was way beyond friendly), would be an understatement. She looked Ruby a few times over, smirking to herself as Ruby shivered when Lacey reached up and untucked a lock of her hair from where it got trapped under the shirt. Ruby coughed in the charged silence, catching herself, then hurried into the changing room mumbling about getting the pants and top. Lacey was smiling like the proverbial cat that was about to get just as proverbial canary. It was her turn next. 

Lacey used a different strategy this time. She started out with a loser again. Though, it was only in half. The dress was cut to her figure, just about, the hem ended exactly at her knee. It was sleeveless and with a high neckline, plus the zipper ran along her side, not the back. The problem with it was that it was bisected into two parts at the waist. The top of the dress was black and soft like velvet, it was also a hair shy of being translucent. It showed some shadowy curves through the black material and left enough to the imagination, too. Now, the skirt of the dress was… a generic grey skirt. Plain and flat. The contrast between the parts of the dress was unsettling. It was as if there was a mix up at the factory and two separate designs were stitched together. Even the black stockings Lacey wore underneath were of no help. Top for the wild night at the club, the excitement of music, dancing, drinks and teasing promise of more, and the bottom for spending another nine to five at the office in a tiny cubicle. Needless to say, Lacey hated it. She loved the top, but the way the bottom part ruined it made Lacey hate the top too. Ruby sensed her displeasure and branded the dress as the devil right away. Which made Lacey more grateful than she cared to admit. This clothing try-on ploy was envisioned as nothing more than that – an excuse to get Ruby to engage and let Lacey work her seduction magic, but the more they did this – the more fun it became, the more of a genuine companionship it became. Lacey had a feeling they would be compatible as individuals, beyond just the physical attraction, but the way they clicked, fast and better than anyone else had before… that was a touch frightening. In the same way your stomach drops on a roller-coaster. Someone else might have slowed down or even recoiled completely, but for Lacey that spike of adrenaline, the threat turned to excitement. Life would not be worth living without a few regrets and rolling a hard six once in a while.  

Lacey let herself be consoled and cheered up with a contest of who could come up with a more creative insult for the designer. And five minutes later they were laughing so hard, their make-up had required some touch-up. Lacey made sure hers was impeccable again before she tried her second outfit. She glanced at Ruby checking her reflection next to her in the same mirror. Ruby was so focused on the line of her mascara, she made her lips make a perfect little circle. Lacey chuckled at the rather cute expression, gave confused Ruby a wink and disappeared behind the curtain. 

When she reappeared it was to the startled intake of breath and then the softest of "oh". 

This was her trump card for today. For this outfit she went all out. Lacey had taken off the stockings, got her legs gloriously bare – moisturised to the point that they shone with a healthy glow. Then she threw on the items that were her weapons, checked her reflection, fluffed up her thick curls – and walked out as if on a catwalk. 

Seeing Ruby's eyes become wide and her mouth hang open was excellent. Lacey would have high-fived herself if that wouldn't have ruined her entrance. Lacey knew how she looked from where Ruby was standing and she was looking good. She had a pair of black heels with a strap around the ankle on and a tan trench coat. But not just any trench coat. It was short. Extremely short, ending at her mid-thigh. And while most of it was light tan material like most trench coats, the long sleeves, the front lapels and underside of the collar were leather, black smooth leather. In combination with dark buttons, it gave the coat some amazing contrast. Lacey had tied the belt in a loop tightly around her waist. She made a few more steps, black glossy stilettos – a challenge for her balancing skills and even a little bit comfortable, but so worth it. Lacey stopped at the arch beyond the open curtain of the changing room, leaned on it for a moment. She moved her legs, gliding one calf against the side of the other, all not taking her eyes off Ruby. Who was still stunned. Lacey chuckled and advanced on her. One step, another, heels forming a single line and hips swaying. She placed her hands on the coat and gripped the lapels, pulling it that little bit open and revealing more of her cleavage. Ruby closed her mouth with a loud clunk of her teeth and gulped. 

"Hey, Ruby, remember how I barged in on you in this very changing room? I was sorry about it, but I also couldn't help noticing your taste in lingerie is simply sublime. Think you can give me a few tips?" 

Ruby's eyes snapped from darting all over her figure to Lacey's face. Now, in addition to the gobsmacked expression, her cheeks began to rosy with a blush. Lacey bit her lip and reached for the belt. Ruby took a step back. She began to babbe something about this being unnecessary and throwing her heads up, but Lacey was faster. Her nimble fingers got the coat open and she threw it off in a flash. Ruby stumbled backwards with her hands covering her face and, tripping over the little pouf, fell over onto her back. Lacey couldn't help herself. Her laughter sounded open and unrestricted. When Ruby, with her legs still stuck on top of the pouf but with her back on the carpet, chanced a glance through her fingers – she groaned and let her head fall back onto the plush carpet. Lacey laughed harder. 

There was no lingerie under that coat. It was another minidress, short enough to hide under the coat. It was black and patterned with bright red rose buds all over. The cut was deceptively simple: the dress had a plunging decolletage with the smallest over-shoulder sleeves so that most of Lacey's neck, shoulders and upper chest were open, the top of the dress flowed into a tightly fitted piece at the waist and then into a double skirt, one on top of the other. It was sexy as hell and kind of cute at the same time. Lacey liked it, even more so knowing Ruby's favourite color and the implication roses always held. Of passion. 

Lacey walked over and held out a hand for Ruby to take. Together they got Ruby off the floor. Lacey ran her hands up and down Ruby’s arms. She said how she wasn't expecting a reaction quite like that, but she wasn't sorry. She told her how it was too easy to tease Ruby and if she didn't want to be teased, she should say so now. Ruby blinked like a confused puppy, then chuckled to herself and said that she didn't mind, much. 

Lacey grinned at her, gave her a slug in the arm and said, "That's the spirit! Now how about you give me a hand? I want to try these other heels on and I'm afraid I could repeat your on-the-floor performance stepping out of these stilettos." 

Ruby obediently walked with Lacey to the mirror and another pair of heels waiting there – black and with a bright red strip going from the inner side all the way along the outer sides, from the nose to the heel. These shoes were somewhat lower in profile, though not many could compete with the stilettos Lacey had on. Holding onto Ruby's hands Lacey had stepped out of her shoes and stood barefoot on the carpet. She glanced up to offer Ruby a grateful and teasing smile, but it was in that moment that Lacey noticed something eye-opening. It was the sudden intake of breath, the slight squeeze of the hands held, the instinctual leaning just a bit closer, and finally the gleamer in Ruby's eyes, the widening of her pupils. Right then and there Lacey knew – she had found something precious, an Achilles' heel, another little thread to pull on in her mission of seduction. Lacey wiggled her toes, enjoying the feeling of the soft carpet and being released from the beauty-prison of those monster heels. She glanced up again to her utter satisfaction. Ruby wasn't looking down at her anymore. She was much more interested in studying something on the ceiling, but it was plain to see how much her neck had tinted with a rosy blush. Lacey chuckled to herself and slipped into the new heels, gaining some of the lost inches. It wasn't the time now, but she sure filed it away for the next date. So instead Lacey let Ruby collapse onto the pouf and catch her breath as she made a show of walking around and even doing a few twirls in the new dress-shoes combo. After leaving The Midnight, they laughed about the day's events, Ruby walked Lacey home and that was the end of it. 

Until it was time for the Friday the week after. 

PART TWO

#lacey #ruby lucas #red lace #ouat #once upon a time #noctis ficlet #ohodashoahaohohowhowudhaiuwdhiah the— i love the look inside Lacey's head #and how she took after Belle for making plans #that girl is putting that large brain TO GOOD USE #ALSO #the moment she realizes Ruby has a thing for her real height #FRAME THAT FOR ME PLEASE #oh yes!!!! #big brain small body #perfect combination #i love this!!! #star #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THAT WORK!! <3 #ruby being respectful and looking up #actually tripping and falling #blushing like a DORK #dork ruby is my favorite #dork ruby lifting heavy things and making lacey wet #IS EVEN BETTER!!! #bless your face

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Moving Forward - Chapter 46

*Warning Adult Content*

Perfection

Lara hadn't lied, she had healed everyone.

There wasn't a single scratch and the aches and bruises Max had been expecting to feel now that all the adrenaline had worn off were absent.

They'd returned briefly to the Rivers mansion, helping get everything back in order but the pair had soon left to go back to Max's house.

They'd cleaned and restored order to his furniture and cushions and retired to the bedroom.

The first thing Kyle had done once there was take Max's face in his hands and press their lips together.

Ah, Max had missed this, missed the feel of Kyle's body pushed up against his.

The upward tilt of his chin to meet Kyle's fervent kisses.

Max needed this.

Kyle's arms came around, one hand taking a firm hold at the back of Max's head, the other making a teasing path of caresses that began at the nape of Max's neck to end at his ass and his knees went weak as Kyle gripped hard.

Sighing, Max broke the kiss to mouth at Kyle's neck and he revelled in the quiet moan he received for the action, then nuzzled at the gentle raise of the scar Max had put there.

This was Max's mate and everyone would know it.

His shirt and trousers were pulled away and Max was lowered to the bed.

Every motion Kyle made was so full of love and care that Max could have cried but he ached for Kyle's touch more, burned with needing to give Kyle what he wanted and everything Max had to give.

Careful in preparing Max, Kyle had him whining and moaning like it was their first time and when Kyle finally entered him, Max sobbed his relief, his desire too much to hold back.

The first round didn't last long, both men having gone too long without this type of connection but they made up for it and lying in the afterglow, sweaty and warm, Max's heart was so full of love for Kyle it could have burst from his chest.

"Are you alright?" Max asked, voice soft.

He felt as if he had been shouting since Kyle had almost died but there was no hoarseness to mark the stress he'd put on his vocal cords.

Kyle smiled at him, his real smile and Max's insides trembled.

"You've asked me that, Kitten. I'm fine."

Concern dipped the corner of his mouth.

"What about you? You told me what happened but..."

Max nodded, then lifted Kyle's hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"I was so angry. I'm grateful that Lara saved your life but I can't forgive the fact that she took you from me in the first place."

Kyle's eyes were sad.

The darkness in them reflected the dying light coming through the windows.

"I don't know what to say to make it better. If that's Lara's little pocket dimension, there's no way we're getting in without her permission."

"I'm still angry," Max acknowledged.

"But I'm tired of all the fighting. I came here to get away from a bad breakup and I found you, so I can't regret moving to Evergreen."

"I guess..." Kyle was silent for a moment, making Max look up to see the thoughts processing in Kyle's mind.

He no longer hid behind a mask of calm collectedness and Max adored seeing this thinking face with Kyle's brow crinkled a little and his mouth pursed in a way that Max wanted to kiss.

"I guess we've just got to move forward."

"Moving forward..." Max repeated, feeling the slide of his body against Kyle's.

"We can do that."

********

The later days were busy.

Team Panther took off, all of them wanting to go home and relax with their own families, whilst of Max's came to visit, piling him with their affection and getting to know Kyle.

To Max's surprise, Farrah, his youngest sister on his dad's side, got along with Kyle like a house on fire.

Thea and Hannah, however, took the chance to interrogate Kyle as soon as they'd made sure that Max wasn't hurt.

All throughout the interrogation, Blake's spouses added in their own questions, Derrick being the only mediator between Max's step-mothers and sisters.

Kayla, in the other hand didn't seem to care either way, more focused on following Max around, like they were kids again.

Being the closest to him in age, she was the only sibling who could bypass his preference for alone time.

He showed the twins to the lake, Micah jumping in immediately while Mercedes sunbathed on a high branch in jaguar form.

Max did the same on the ground, Kayla cuddling up to him in lion form, their contented growls echoing through the forest.

Max supposed he should be more reticent to be here, to see the lake where he'd been betrayed by Lara and tricked into going to her dimension but as he watched all his siblings enjoying themselves and Kyle with Kasumi, Max's mom clearly doting on Kyle like he was her own child, he just couldn't be upset.

It was too perfect.

Micah flicked water at Max and Kayla as he came to stand over them.

"Your lion side is showing," he mocked, knowing that Max was enjoying all the company.

"Or should I say wolf side?"

Kasumi was close enough to smack him upside the head.

"Thiago is happy, quit being a dick."

All this, of course, she said in Portuguese, as she was apt to when cussing out her children.

Max chuffed, amused at seeing his brother get told, until Kasumi speared him with a glare.

Max might have been in jaguar form but no mother was intimidated by their children, no matter how big their teeth.

She opened her mouth to tell Max off but they were all distracted when Kyle, in wolf form, bowled over both Max and Kayla, Farrah right on his heels, followed by Andy, Carter and Finn.

"Kids," came a familiar sigh.

Amelia gave Kasumi a hug of greeting.

"It looked so peaceful over here, too."

Kasumi shrugged, smiling.

"Kids."

Blake jogged up, Derrick, Jody and Kath keeping up behind him.

"We brought lunch."

Max sighed, lying flat and chuffed happily as Kyle pressed up next to him.

Too, too perfect.

[playofthefool]

Footing of the Fool

The fool journey is about the acceptance of illusion and disillusionment. It's about finding your own self, embracing life as it really is and understanding that you have nothing to lose.

The Fool Journey begins with the realization that all of your life's problems are caused by yourself, including not being able to solve them. This means that although there may be external forces at play in your life (like other people), ultimately these forces can't affect you unless you allow them to do so by reacting emotionally/physically/mentally etc...

The Fool Journey ends when we learn how to deal with our own emotions without reacting negatively towards ourselves or the world and others around us.

The fool has no place to set his foot, and that is the special moment when faith and trust is earned. The journey begins when you realize that you have nothing to lose. It's about finding your own self.

The journey is a path which begins by admitting your own limits and ends by embracing life as it really is.

It's about learning to accept that you are not perfect, that you are not always right and that you don't know everything. It's about learning to embrace the world around you for what it actually is: full of beauty, joy and wonder; but also full of pain, suffering and sadness. The fool realizes that no matter how hard they try they cannot change these things - but they can change how they react to them! The fool sees the value in each moment of their lives without needing anything more than what already exists right now (and often this includes nothing at all).

The fool travels through a world full of illusions and he has a very different footing. He is the one who does not know how to walk on the earth, who does not know where he is going. The Fool represents the innocence of children and those people who have never been disillusioned by life's experiences. Throughout his journey, he encounters many things that could be considered illusions: a castle made out of sand; an illusionary king sitting on an invisible throne; even himself in disguise as different characters along the way.

The fool's ignorance is what allows him to see beyond reality into another dimension where everything appears different than it actually is; this makes him special because he has faith in what others can't see or understand yet accept it as real nonetheless and that is why faith and trust are earned through this experience.

No matter what you do in this life, do not lose faith, trust, or hope.

Whether you are a young person on the verge of adulthood or an older one facing retirement, the Fool's Journey is a journey that every human takes at some point in their lives.

The fool journey is a very interesting concept and it can be applied to many different life situations. The journey is not about being stupid or foolish, but rather about embracing life as it really is and finding ways to deal with its ups and downs. Cause, effect, reason and solution.

~ BD

[penguinwithagrenadelauncher]

Humans and Lion Equivalents of My Diamond Swap AUs

Names will bolded for convenience.

Yellow AU

Melody's dad, Connor Comet, was a James Bond-esque super-spy, but gave up his womanizing ways when he met and subsequently fell in love with Mali Garnet, who came into his life by shooting down a bad guy plane with her bow. Connor was forced to retire due to losing the use of his legs during a mission, shortly before he learned that Mali was pregnant. He does his best to be supportive of his hyperactive daughter, but feels sad he can't keep up with her due to being wheelchair-bound.

In the years since Mali's death, Connor has found love again in the form of a woman named Juniper and her son Kyle, who became Melody's stepmother and stepbrother, respectively. Juniper escaped an abusive relationship with Kyle's bio father, and is still trying to rediscover her confidence years later; she can be a doormat at times. Meanwhile, Kyle is a sassy, somewhat bitter child who refuses to let anybody walk all over him and his mother again. Kyle is also a mechanical genius, and can even reverse-engineer Gem technology.

Condor, Melody's pet, first appeared to Melody and her friends during recess. Similar Lion, he can make a pocket dimension for Mali/Melody to store items in, although he does so by screaming up a portal. Melody and her friends love riding on Condor through the skies.

Other than the already-mentioned Victoria, Melody's human friends consist of Trudy Leonardson the cheerleader, Lettice Ewart the moonchild, Chase Wiley the seamster, and Gus Clifton the daredevil. Guess which one of these ends up being the Lars.

For less-friendly humans, there is Sophia, the Kevin equivalent. She's a mean girl who saw Vicody as a newcomer approaching on her territory, and both sides have hated each other ever since.

Blue AU

Erika's father, Dan Star, once belonged to a criminal organization called the Black Sky. After falling in love with Lazuli, however, he changed his ways, and now works as St. Eulalia's handyman. Dan can be overprotective of Erika, and secretly deeply fears her going down the wrong path. Dan owns a very screechy parrot named Bob.

After Dan's brother Ken Star (mentioned in the B-Team post) loses custody of Jun for illegal magical experimentation, Jun's birth mother Anna Hart moves to St. Eulalia so her son can be closer to the Gems and his cousin. Anna is a quiet, serious woman who can pack a mean punch both verbally and physically when angered.

During a jaunt through the woods, Erika encounters Unicorn, her companion. Unicorn's pocket dimension is in her mane, similar to Lion. She also has a bit more of Lazuli's healing powers than any of the other empowered animals.

Erika doesn't really enjoy the company of her peers, save for Elliot, and often hangs out around the various adults of St. Eulalia, such as the old storyteller Hoshi, the village guard Yuri, the botanist Shiro, or the shopkeeper Ituski.

This AU's Kevin equivalent comes from within Elliot's own family. Fabian Morgenstern is Elliot's cousin and bully, always insulting and belittling him. In fact, after Elliot and Erika first fused into Edika, one of the first things Edika did was go annoy Fabian. He only gets marginally better after the family is taken into Elliot's mind.

White AU

Gabe's father, Benjamin Moon, was the principal of the Prism Institute, but he was murdered when Gabe was only a year old. Custody of Gabe was given to Ben's brother Frederick Moon and his wife Sara, who raised him alongside their younger bio daughter Ava. Fred runs a joke shop, while Sara is a police officer.

Outside of his family, the adult that Gabe is closest to is the former vice principal and current principal of the Institute, Martha Demetriou. She is a kind but strict woman who makes sure to tell Gabe many stories of his biological parents, both of whom she was close to.

Gabe's Lion equivalent, Wolf, has been around with him since childhood. Wolf has been loyal to Precious ever since she saved her from the brink of death, and she can't be pried from Gabe with a crowbar. Like Lion, her fur contains a pocket dimension.

The Institute is home to many Gifted children: Béatrice Pelletier has super speed, Mei Kuang can levitate, Santiago Cortez makes flowers grow, and Imad Zaman can shapeshift, just to name a few.

One of the least liked students of the Institute is Beverly, a spoiled brat with the power of telekinesis. She believes money can buy anything, including the perfect boyfriend– her animosity towards Gabe and Ji-Min starts when she falls for Gamin, which goes about as well as you'd expect.

#su yellow diamond #diamond swap au #steven universe #steven universe au #su au #blue diamond #pink diamond #su blue diamond #su pink diamond #su white diamond #yellow diamond #white diamond #tw murder #tw death #tw death mention #tw abuse mention

[salty-stories]

Treble K. Left -- The Merged Mechanic

appearance

29. Non-binary. White. They have a light tan from growing up in a coastal town and a smattering of moles and freckles all over. Short, wavy auburn hair, often twisted into a bun. They’re fairly lean like they would be agile in a sprint. Before the m҉e҈r̵g҉i̸n̴g̷, their eyes were a pale blue-grey. Now they’re so gray it’s hard to see where their irises begin against the white of their eyes. They wear colored circle sunglasses, regardless of the weather, even indoors…

description

As the town’s only mechanic, Treble is often found running from place to place on one errand or another. And when not tending to the malfunctions of the machines, they tinker away in their shop in the town’s center. Generally easy-going and sociable, Treble is very popular among other townsfolk, a fact Marci loves to tease them about. Though your interaction with the mechanic is brief, the sad yearning look they adopt when no one is looking intrigues you.

Damian Vargas -- The “Retired” Private Eye

appearance

39. Male. Hispanic. Light brown skin weathered and marred by a long career of dangerous work, Damian bears his scars proudly, though the most prominent is the jagged gash across the bridge of his nose. He keeps his jet black hair long enough to comb and slick back. Though the scruff on his face gets less care and does as it pleases. His eyes are the kind of dark brown that glow in the sunshine and crinkle with his smile.

description

Well-known for his affinity for finding missing persons, Damian gave up his investigative career after the missing eldest Moondeer child’s trail ran cold. A string of other missing persons cases also led to Natoma–and all of them now remain unsolved. While his retirement was less than voluntary, Damian has settled into Natoma rather well. Unlike Treble and Marci, Damian can fall into the trap of taking things too seriously but time off has tempered some of his sharper edges. His concern for your wellbeing is touching but you do wonder if he knows more about the danger surrounding Natoma than he lets on.

Marci Cruz -- The Rocker-turned-Barkeep

appearance

34. Female. Filipino. Olive-toned skin when not covered in ink, Marci has tattoos crawling down her neck, arms, and chest. To complete the alternative aesthetic, Marci wears a lot of liner around her black eyes and has several piercings, a septum, a few on her right brow, to name a few. Her hair is short-cropped with black roots and the tips dyed a different color every other month.

description

Marci owns Natoma’s only bar, On The Rocks, a bustling establishment with good drinks and even better music. It’s punk rock aesthetic seems at odds with the rest of the sleepy town but there’s always more customers than seats to fill. Though a responsible business owner and mother to her son, Marci still knows her way into a good time. Maybe you’ll be even lucky enough to catch her playing music. While she has no problem with you, Marci harbors a strong resentment towards your employer and even stranger a deep distrust of the lighthouse.

Eden Witt -- The Bewitching Biologist

appearance

31. Gender determined in game. Black. Eden has a pretty solid jawline with high-cheekbones and a wide smile, the kind that creates laugh lines. They have shoulder-length braids, that are usually tied back into a ponytail or bun. Though they spend most of their time indoors working, Dr. Witt is fairly toned and muscular from their time working on a research vessel. They tend to wear thick and funky block-shaped glasses when reading and writing.  

description

A non-native to Natoma, Dr. Witt came to the town on a marine biology grant to study an anomalous algae bloom. Though their work keeps them confined to their make-shift lab in the town’s library, Eden is rather popular among the single town residents.  And though they respond in kind, none of their flirting or fascination ever lasts long. Personal curiosity aside, the biologist’s interest in Natoma’s coast, the Lighthouse, and the ecosystem surrounding it may pose a problem for the creature it houses and that you must protect.

Beacon -- Your Eldritch Roomie

appearance

Unknown age. Agender. Eldritch being of unknown origin. When in the lighthouse, Beacon appears to you as…well, a shadow, a dark outline of where a shape might be. But isn’t. There exists a physical component to Beacon’s shadow, a form adapted to life beneath the sea, housed somewhere underneath the Lighthouse itself. Beacon refuses to speak on the subject. Though they’ve never managed to manifest a humanoid form–thanks to the Lighthouse’s strange restrictions, it’s unclear how much control over its appearance they would have.

description

Your Keeper guide materials say little about the being you’re meant to be “keeping” in the Lighthouse. Aside from some basic descriptions of their appearance and expected behaviors, you really have no idea what you’re dealing with here. And though they love to threaten “flattening the coast” with their other-worldly powers(of course, no one ever explains what those are…), the threats begin to feel hollow as you settle into your new cohabitation. Being from another dimension doesn’t make them any less annoying or petty as your human roommates, from being slightly passive-aggressive to a lack of personal space, rooming with an Eldritch being is going to take some adjustment for the both of you.

DEMO TBA.

#styg #styg:char #char:beacon #char:eden #char:marci #char:damian #char:treble #styg:ros

[nerdybirdy6602]

Prompt G: Grief

Next up for me in the Dimension 20 Alphabet @dimension20alphabet event is a little Fabriz hurt and comfort. Major spoilers for Episode 6 of FH:SY ahead! That being said, here’s a little moment of Riz comforting Fabian when all seems lost.

Fabian was quiet.

Riz had never seen Fabian so quiet and small. The half-elf always seemed inflated by his own self-confidence. While Riz found that this trait grated on his nerves more often than not, at least that was the norm. Looking at the Seacaster now was like looking at a popped balloon. It was just sad.

He wasn’t even sure what happened to his friend. He refused to speak of whatever happened up there against Captain Whitclaw but whatever it was rattled the boy to his core. On the way back to the Gold Gardens, Fabian was staring hauntedly at nothing with Cathilda at his side trying to offer her maternal presence. Riz, with the help of his detective skills, knew that Fabian wasn’t mentally present now. He was re-experiencing whatever horrors he had encountered in the Crow’s Keep.

When they finally arrived at the Gold Gardens, Garthy welcomed them back, giving a particularly empathetic look to Fabian. They all eventually retired to their respective bedrooms, and Cathilda caught his attention before he went to his own.

“Master Riz,” she called.

“Just Riz,” he corrected, a small smile on his face. “What do you need?”

“Do you think you could talk to Master Fabian before you head off to sleep? I know he doesn’t like to admit it, but he does value your friendship and, well, maybe it’s not a mother he needs right now. Do you understand my meaning?”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure—”

“Please,” she begged in a near whisper. “I’ve never seen him like this, not even after Master William passed.”

Riz sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

She patted his shoulder, whispered her thanks, and went off to tend to the other members of the party. He braced himself for whatever response he might receive and reminded himself that Fabian wasn’t himself right now before stepping into the half-elf’s space. Riz found the boy curled up on his bed facing the wall, hugging himself tight enough that the goblin detective could only assume he was protecting himself from… something.

“Hey, Fabian,” Riz called gently. “Do you need anything?”

Silence.

“Fabian?”

More silence.

“Listen, if you got cursed or someone cast Feeble Mind on you… Fabes, give me a sign you’re in there.”

The silence only grew, but this time the boy shook his head. Good, at least Fabian could understand him. That was all the encouragement Riz needed to sit beside the bed, with Fabian’s back still to him.

“Thank you, for that,” he murmured. “Good to know you can hear me. I… I’m not very good at this whole comforting thing. Feelings are confusing and hard to understand, but I know what grief is. I know what it means to hurt, I think everyone in the party does to some degree. If you need someone to talk about it with, we’re all here. I… I’m here for you.”

The silence was deafening and uncomfortable, so Riz gave a heavy sigh and stood to walk out. As he took a step away, he heard the rustling of sheets and a croak of, “The… Riz?”

Riz stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time Fabian called him by his actual name. It might’ve been before the incident that gave him the nickname, but he couldn’t be sure. The gravity of his name coming from Fabian’s lips settled in his mind as he turned to see the half-elf’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. It hit the young detective like a punch to the gut to see Fabian so broken.

“What do you need, Fabes?”

“Can you stay?”

The question made Riz smile despite himself, and he sat on the edge of Fabian’s bed in response. Though the boy didn’t say anything by means of thanks, he could practically see the words in Fabian’s eyes. Tentatively, as if waiting for Fabian to tear himself away, Riz placed his hand over his friend’s and squeezed firmly to show that he was here and wouldn’t be going anywhere else unless Fabian asked. This sparked new tears in Fabian’s eyes, but Riz didn’t acknowledge them in any way. Simple tears turned into quiet sobbing, and Riz let him cry it out as long as he needed.

Riz didn’t need to know what happened. This wasn’t a case that he needed to crack wide open. Either Fabian would divulge what happened while in the Crow’s Keep, or he wouldn’t. No matter what, though, Riz would be here to hold his hand through it. No one should have to grieve alone, especially not one of his closest friends.

#d20alphabet21 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high: sophmore year #fabian aramais seacaster #fabian seacaster #riz gukgak #fabriz #cathilda the black

[depressedhatakekakashi]

I was going through my playlist and this scene popped up in my head for some reason- (i guess it was the tone cuz the lyrics had nothing to do with it lol) Dimension Travel but it's only the Jounin-Sensei's, this is a reverse universe where everyone who is dead in their universe is now alive but now THEY are the ones who are dead, basically no one is having a good time plus they need to go back immediately since there's an uncoming war going on.

They're all in disguise and during their search for the exit they see how different things are, Kurenai could barely hold herself back from comforting a grieving mess Asuma standing over her grave, Gai flinches seeing his Papa trying to go on life as youthful as he can but coming home so so alone- greeting his young son's memorial picture lovingly, Kakashi avoiding Team Minato as much as he can but unable to forget his sensei and Kushina still mourning the loss of his student and recently- their child who was lost in miscarriage at the nine-tails attack, Rin and Obito- not as perfect as he thought they would be grown up but instead human and so so flawed; handling the guilt over his death just as well as he did, and of course finally- his Father and Mother, now retired and barely coming outside their home anymore, mourning their son who was taken from them so incredibly young.

A universe where Kakashi did what he had dreamed of so many times in the past- sacrificing himself to save his teammates lives, A world where Dai didn't know about his son being in danger and Gai fought the swordsmiths himself to let Genma and Ibisu escape, and a world where Kurenai went on the mission to fight Kakuzu and Hidan instead of Asuma. They were supposed to feel happy seeing their loved ones alive, and yet seeing them just like they are- grieving and doing their best to keep the pieces together. Hurt more than they could've ever imagined-

(and that's it- idk how to continue lol XD they get back eventually, their not gonna stay- i just wanted to get into that survivor's guilt of 'things would be better if i was the one who died instead-' but NOPE it rarely ever is that perfect XD, i don't think they all think that but it'd still be a pretty surreal experience seeing a loved one who is dead grieve over YOU, and also yeah my playlist put me into a mood of existencial dread and my stacks of unfinished homework)

I don’t think any of them have the thought of ‘if it was me it wiuld be better’. Kakashi is the closest but even his issues are ‘what could i have done to save them. I should have been stronger, faster.’

Kakashi lives because it means protecting people. Something he can’t do if he’s dead.

But gosh that’s so f***ing sad.

I can’t inagine any of them handling it well, and they all have to refrain from rushing out to hug their loved well and telling them it’ll be alright

It will get better

They’d be lying after all. It never gets better. The pain never goes away

They just learn to live with it and it sucks

(Also Obito would be dead too in this case, because in canon he lives until the war)

Edit: Sakumo and Yua moarning Kakashi really kills me because I can see Kakashi standing there watching them from far enough away that they can’t sense him. Wondering what it would have been like if he had been allowed to keep his parents. To know his mother at all.

Imagine him walking up to her in disguise during one of those rare visits out when she’s getting groceries, and chatting her up. Watching her shoulders relax and a faint smile spread across her face.

Imagine him standing there realizing all the things he got from her for the first time in his life, from the mole on his chin that matches her own, to the cold and calculating personality

Imagine Kakashi standing there wondering if it was ever possible. If there’s a world out there where he didn’t lose everything

[wolfcha1k]

Fear Has No Sense, a Fanfic

"What if they're not what I expected?" Ratchet asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again.

Rivet leaned back on her palms before casting him a little look. "Well, was I what you expected?"

Ratchet has some unfinished questions he needs to get off his chest, who better to understand than his other half of the rift?

Author's Note: Important note, only thing I know about this series is Rift Apart, so kept my horizons very small for this story. Just was a little plot bunny that was nagging me, so I spewed it out. I'm hoping its not too sappy or ends too abruptly, stuff like that, as well as the whole "plz sound like you guys are in character" thing. Lemme know what you think, I love feedback.

She found him sitting on top of his ship outside a good distance away, seeming lost in thought. There was a celebration to be had, it wasn't everyday you saved two worlds and many more in what felt like a few short days. It'd been suspicious when Ratchet had wandered off, passed the fan fair and practically evaporated from the scene. She thought him to be a guy who loved a good party.

If you had asked Rivet she would have thought he'd used that Dimensionator to scurry off somewhere. 

But thankfully he hadn't, she was rather done with dimension chasing for a while. Now she just wanted to relax and digest the peace she never thought she could have ever lived to see. It'd cost her an arm quite literally but within her bones she knew she would sacrifice it again to know the world was safe.

She put a hand on her hip, hesitant on interrupting what seemed to be a private moment. Music played muffled behind them from the celebration being had, far too peppy for the mood he seemed to be in. He didn't look sad persay, merely deep and lost in his thoughts, whatever they might be they were clearly making him chase his own tail in circles. 

Taking a courageous breath, she took the plunge into the metaphorical rip tide. "Hey!" 

His orange head turned to look at her, slowly blinking at her once the surprise wore off. "Oh, uh, hey." The moonlight made Rivet's fur burn silver.

"Yeah, uh, hi." Smooth, she told herself with a strained grin, waving a hand as she gestured at the space next to him. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, knock yourself out," Ratchet replied, shuffling away to make room. Rivet began to climb up, jumping onto the ship to sit down beside him.

Neither said anything, just exchanged a quick smile before glancing away to look at something else. She sometimes wondered how they could both have seamless and awkward conversations all at once. It wasn't like either of them were shy people, so what was it? They were pretty familiar with each other now too, unlike back at their first face to face introduction at Zurkie’s. 

Instead of lingering on the nagging thought and joining Ratchet in his wandering mind, she spoke. "Nice night, huh?"

"Yeah, it's great to look at the stars and not see time and space tearing apart for once," he mused, jokingly as he recalled their adventure. 

"Yeah, it's a major bummer when the dimensions collapsing on themselves ruins a good full moon," she joked back, smiling. 

"Ugh, tell me about it." He shuffled his weight to get more comfortable, drawing his knee up. "I'm not complaining about retirement again anytime soon. Meeting you and Kit was a nice compensation though."

"Are you saying that because you like my company or because I'm another Lombax?" She copied his casual posture a moment, tipping her head to the side coyly.

"Uh… both?" He scratched the fur at his neck absently, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't know, I think I'd still like you even if you were a three eyed frog."

She gave him a look, amused. "You would make for an odd three eyed frog since we gotta match and all, so good thing you and me are Lombaxes."

"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, large ears flat as he suppressed a snort. "Either way… it's nice not being, yanno, alone."

"Alone is something I know all too well," she told him with empathy highlighting her face and words. Of course, her loneliness had been different from what she imagined his to be like. He gave her a sympathetic look, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. "I never thought I'd actually meet someone like me… uh you?” She made something of a comical face. “It’s a bit over–”

“It's a bit overwhelming, huh?” Ratchet grinned at her when he realized they’d jinxed each other yet again. He suppressed a chuckle best he could but it was all for naught. “I think I owe you a lot of sodas at this point, sorry.”

“I could use the sugar so I’ll take you up on that offer, it's fine,” she joked, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Anyway, It’s been an adjustment period, yeah,” she replied with a sheepish look, grasping her palms together to distract herself. “My first impression wasn’t the most brilliant.”

“At least you knew how to say hi at all,” he teased her. “I didn’t peg you as the shy type.”

“Hey, neither did you!” She started in a firmer tone before it broke off into a more trickling voice. ”I don’t think I would have been able to break the ice if I didn’t have Clank,” she admitted, lifting her palm to scrub it down the back of her neck, embarrassed. 

Ratchet still looked at her with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “Am I really that scary?”

“Depends how you define scary,” Rivet replied, giving him something of a knowing look that suddenly made him uncomfortable. She decided now was as good a moment as any, curious of just why he was out here. “So… uh, I’m not the best at this but…”

He sighed, already knowing what was coming when his smile came back in a more somber fashion. “My head won’t shut up,” Ratchet told her, not bothering to deny anything.

“Well, there is a really smart mouth attached to it.”

“Har, har, har, you’re funny,” he quipped, nudging her with a childish huff and pout. “I know I promised our pit stop but–”

“Is this about the other Lombaxes?” She was never one to beat around the bush, always direct, somethings ruthlessly so. Her words weren’t spoken harshly though, a gentle inflection to the question.

“Ah, sorta?” Rivet arched a brow at him in a telltale manner that made him doubletake his answer, backpedaling. “Okay, maybe a lot sorta.”

“You wanna elaborate?” She encouraged him, cocking her head with a curious blink of her intelligent eyes.

There was a pause, Ratchet taking the moment to figure out what he wanted to say. Rivet was patient, shifting between focusing on the intense frown of his brows to the matching frown on his lips. He eventually took in a breath and faced her.

“What if they’re not what I expected?” He asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again. His eyes looked at the starry expanse of sky, endlessly stretching farther than the mind could imagine.

She leaned back on the back of her palms before casting him a little look. “Well, was I what you expected?” The words were laced in good humor and she grinned once she saw his startled face.

He wasn’t expecting that, big eyes round as an owl before he gave a grin of his own. Rivet was relieved to see it there, melancholy didn’t do justice to his face. “No, actually, you weren’t.” The words were honest but hardly negative, some warmth tingling them.

“I’ll assume that’s a compliment,” she teased him, her robotic hand making contact with his arm in a playful punch of camaraderie. She was sitting up again, elbows on her knees as she continued to speak. “And before you ask…”

“Ask what?” He rubbed at the spot where she’d socked him, wondering if she had any idea how much strength she really had in that cyborg hand and arm of hers. She must be a champion arm wrestler. “I think you’re pretty solid too. Those other Lombax would be dumb to not see it,” Rivet assured him and this time it was him who bumped shoulders with her.

It was only the pressure against her shoulder she felt from the nerve endings pressed into the machine, she’d lost the ability to feel much else since losing that arm despite his warm arm brushing against her. It was strange but she was used to strange. She almost had a phantom sensation of his touch. 

“Thanks,” he chuckled before arching a brow playfully. “Are you reading minds now too?”

“If I’m you and you’re me, it’s a pretty obvious conclusion, right?” She challenged him, ears pricked forward.

“Man, that still makes my head hurt,” he exclaimed, pushing a palm against his forehead with a chuckle. 

He wondered if there was more to that besides being shadows of one another, recalling Mags' diary entries of how other Lombaxes had been cast out into different pockets of time and space. To say the least, his mind wasn't ready in the slightest to start going down that rabbit hole just yet. There would be plenty of down time now to do so later, the excitement of peril was done.

They filled the silence that followed with what felt like calm and peace a good friend brought, content in the lull of the conversation; it didn’t feel suffocating or awkward. 

Ratchet broke the quiet moment, his voice musing. “Yanno… for someone who’s been a real lone wolf, you sure know how to talk to people.”

“Hey, lone wolf doesn’t equal socially degenerate,” she quipped, shaking her head with a smile at him lifting a hand in mock defense. “Besides, I honestly get how you feel about… the whole scared of the Lombax thing.” She let her face become serious, brows furrowed as she rubbed her hands together. Ratchet could hear the purr in the motors of her robotic arm as it moved. “It wasn’t fair I threw that in your face back at Zurkie’s–”

Automatically he interrupted her, shaking his head and catching her gaze. “No, it’s alright. It wasn’t right of me to call you a coward either when you had your own fears.”

“Yeah but fear does nobody any good when it hurts people,” she told him, lifting her eyes to glance at her arm, seeing her reflection on the golden sleek metal. She turned back to him not long after, somehow feeling a sense of peace wash over her despite some of the jitters. “Guess fear just doesn’t make no sense sometimes, huh?” They shared a look, a somber smile on each other's faces.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing with something that almost sounded like a chuckle.

She took a moment to find what she should say next, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to end right there. A good friend did what she could to support each other, not snuff out their insecurities and ignore their needs. Her thoughts absently flew to Kit and Rivet didn’t want to make that mistake again. “Meeting you was honestly one of the most intimidating things I ever did, I can’t imagine adding to it an entire race of who knows how many more of us out there,” she confessed at last. "Fighting Emperor Nefarious was a cakewalk compared to that."

He studied her curiously, a bit surprised. Considering their argument prior to the conclusion of this whole mess, he hadn’t really expected her to have her own qualms about finding their kin. “You worry about what they might think of you too?”

“I mean, maybe a little,” Rivet started, trying to sound casual, being vulnerable wasn’t her strong suit but she was going to try her hardest. Breathing a sigh, she found her words again that were heavy on her tongue, relaxing the tension that had suddenly found itself coiled down her spine. “Well, I don’t anymore, least not like I did before we met,” she replied, meeting his eyes, mischief twinkling like a star. “You like me well enough, right?”

“You seriously need to ask me that?” He rested his elbow on his knee that was curled up close to his chest, the other leg comfortably laying under his relaxed slouch. 

“That answers that,” Rivet said, sighing extravagantly in good humor before taking on a more serious tone. “Anyway, if one Lombax thinks I’m good enough, then that must mean others will think of me that way too. If not, well, then I got just the one and your approval is plenty for me.”

He smiled at her. “You think that highly of me? I’m touched.”

“Yeah, I do, and I’m not saying that because you’re the only other Lombax I know,” she told him, returning his smile with one of her own.

Ratchet seemed to consider his words, quiet for only a moment before he said anything. “Hey, Rivet?”

“Yeah, Ratchet?” “Thanks, for tonight, I mean. It helps,” he told her, appreciative as he met her eyes. “Kit and me dished some talk but guess I hadn’t gotten it all out, too much mayhem at the time.”

“It’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Ratchet said, nodding his head.

They fell into a short silence, just looking at each other before Rivet decided to speak. "So… think you're finally ready for that little pit stop soon you promised me?" She arched a brow at him, a challenge he met with a toothy smirk teetering on a grin.

"I've been ready." He reached a hand out to her, bicep raised as Rivet met him halfway, robotic palm pressed into the glove of his as they met in a firm clap. 

She squeezed his hand, mindful to not crush it with their arms pressed together from the grip. "That's what I like to hear."

"Good, because you'll be hearing a lot more from where that's coming, Rivet."

#ratchet & clank #ratchet and clank #ratchet and clank rift apart #my writing #my fanfiction

[agerefandom]

Evenings of Eternity (Chapter 1)

Fandom: Good Omens (mostly book, but set in the present day with bits of tv show influence)

Words: 2,500

Summary: Crowley has been many things throughout the millenia, but he’s never been a child. He finds himself curious about the idea of childhood, and Aziraphale offers to help him explore that curiosity. (regressor!crowley, cg!aziraphale)

Content Warnings: brief mentions of angst/grief, discussions of k/nk in a neutral tone, passing reference to n$fw material.

Some Notes: I have two chapters of this story written, and they work well together as a stand-alone, but I plan to continue the series, so let me know if you have any requests for these two! There is no regression in Chapter One, only discussions of it. Also, I headcanon Crowley as asexual and genderfluid, and Aziraphale as gay and agender (as far as we can label non-human experiences of gender and sexuality). It has very little bearing on the story, but I thought I would mention it!

Read Chapter Two Here!

After several thousand years, Aziraphale thought he’d gotten used to Time, with all of its intricacies. But after the non-apocalypse, he found that it was moving differently.

Well, that wasn’t quite right: it all changed when he moved in with Crowley.

Moving in together seemed like the natural thing to do, after everything, and after a few months with no word from Upstairs nor Downstairs, they both warily agreed to try a kind of retirement. Settle down together as housemates who could enjoy the sunshine without worrying about being treasonous or hedonistic, who could call each other friends without looking over their shoulders for eavesdroppers.

So Aziraphale tucked away his bookshop into a little dimension where no one would find it, and the books wouldn’t gather dust. He packed all of his favourites, which was roughly half the shop, into a suitcase, and carried it out to where Crowley was leaning against the Bentley. Crowley helped him load it into the boot with a decent amount of grumbling, and that had been it for London.

Here on the South Downs, Crowley’s plants spread across their house. They were more verdant than ever, as Aziraphale’s disappointed looks had proven a more terrifying threat than anything Crowley had thrown at them. The plants mingled with the books, bloomed in the well-used kitchen, and lounged in the window frames, soaking up the occasional day of sunlight.

From the very start, Aziraphale found that living with Crowley was like discovering Earth all over again. He had started counting his new life not from the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, but from the date when they moved in together.

Reading felt different with Crowley curled in the chair beside him, flicking through news apps. Bathing felt different with Crowley humming along to a record in the living room. Nights felt different with Crowley sleeping through most of them, leaving the silence heavy around Aziraphale, and much lonelier than the nights had been in his bookshop, with the nightlife of Soho all around him.

The whole world was new twice-over, once from Adam’s decision to save the earth, and again from the mere proximity of Crowley.

Time was re-invented, not moving in the familiar decades that bled into centuries, but suddenly made into mornings, evenings, and late nights. The days came alive in a way that Aziraphale had never experienced, and soon enough he found himself lying down next to Crowley every night just for the pleasure of waking up to another lazy morning.

--

It was nine months and twelve days after they had moved in together, and Aziraphale was still counting the mornings in wonderment. Aziraphale was walking hand-in-hand with Crowley down a path that curved around a local playground. It was an unseasonably warm day, and all of the children had run out to the playground, their laughter filling the peaceful quiet as the two not-quite-men wandered through the sunlight.

Aziraphale took advantage of the busy surroundings to glance at Crowley, and was taken off-guard by his expression. Crowley was looking towards the playground with what could only be described as grief, raw and unguarded.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale said softly, squeezing his hand. Crowley jolted, clearly startled, and turned to Aziraphale with his best attempt at a smile.

“Yes, angel?”

Aziraphale was face to face with his own reflection in Crowley’s sunglasses. He looked very anxious in the dark glass. “What’s wrong?” he asked, deciding not to avoid the point.

“Nothing at all.” Crowley sounded dismissive, but his head turned back towards the playground even as he spoke. There was a moment of silence, filled with the screeching laughter of the children. “They’re very… happy.” His voice was a mix of disdain and something else that Aziraphale couldn’t quite decipher.

“Do you want one?” Aziraphale regretted the question once he’d asked it. Crowley seemed genuinely taken aback.

“One what?”

“Well, you know. One of them.” Aziraphale gestured towards the playground helplessly. “An offspring, a child.”

“A baby?” Crowley laughed so hard that his sunglasses slid down his nose, revealing his familiar golden eyes. “Hell no! Have you seen our plants, angel? Do you remember Warlock? You want to try out a kid of our own?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand so that he could cross his arms across his chest. “I just thought that you- that you maybe- you seemed sad,” he finished lamely.

“Sad?” Crowley shrugged, a movement that rolled through his entire body. “Nah.”

Aziraphale gave him a Look and waited.

Crowley lasted five seconds before he spoke again. “Curious, maybe. If anything.”

“Curious?”

“I mean, we’ve been a lot of things. There have been a lot of years. Insurance salesmen, and magicians, and orators, and knights, and all that sort.”

“We have.” Aziraphale still looked back on his magician years with pride, although he couldn’t say the same for knighthood. Too much heavy armour and fainting in the woods.

“But we’ve never been, well, kids.” Crowley’s tone was trying very hard to be casual and wasn’t doing a good job of it.

“That’s true.” A silence fell, with Aziraphale looking at Crowley inquisitively, and Crowley looking at a nearby tree to avoid meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.

Aziraphale was about to ask what Crowley meant, but just as he opened his mouth there was a sharp cry from behind them.

They spun around to see a young boy falling from a nearby tree, hitting a few branches on the way down before landing on the ground with a heavy thump. Both Aziraphale and Crowley started forwards, hands reached out for help, but the boy bounced to his feet before they had taken a full step.

The boy was laughing, and so were his friends above him. He rubbed his back where a root had definitely left a bruise, and then reached for the lowest tree-branch, restarting the climb without a second thought. Their laughter and shouts mingled with the others from the playground.

And there was that look again on Crowley’s face, that heart-wrenching loss and grief.

Aziraphale’s heart pressed against his chest as he reached for Crowley’s hand, stepping forwards to press a quick kiss against the not-quite-demon’s cheek. Aziraphale could tell that this was something that struck deep for Crowley, and even if he didn’t identify with Crowley’s fascination with a human childhood, he couldn’t overlook the desperate longing that he’d found in Crowley’s face.

Crowley smiled and leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s for a moment. Slowly, they started walking again, leaving the playground behind as they looped back towards the cliffs and the seaside, the serious moment passing.

Still, Aziraphale reflected, if there was any way to give Crowley what he obviously wanted so much, Aziraphale would find it.

--

If there was one thing Aziraphale loved the internet for, it was research. Well, more accurately it was the online auction sites where he could sit for hours bidding on a new book, trying not to curse at the other bidders. He tried to leave the fast-moving internet to Crowley and the hip young people, but it had its uses from time to time.

Crowley gave an arched eyebrow, but didn’t comment when Aziraphale sat down in his reading-chair with a tablet instead of his usual hardcover. The two of them sat beside each other, together in their own spaces, as was their afternoon habit, and tapped away on their separate screens.

Aziraphale was curious: while he and Crowley had been young, they had come into existence before Earthly time was created, and before the idea of growth had really been developed. They had no childhood at all, but surely some humans had nostalgia for their childhoods. Something that they might want to recapture, something that Aziraphale could offer to Crowley.

Regression therapy was the first thing that Aziraphale wandered through pages of research on, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to use it. Crowley had no prior childhood mindset, no natural place of nostalgia or safety to return to. Neither of them, Aziraphale realized, had ever been ‘safe’ in the way a child was supposed to be, never cherished unconditionally nor given the freedom to make mistakes. More and more, he understood the longing that had etched itself into the lines of Crowley’s face on the path by the playground.

Age regression and nostalgia-centered communities gave Aziraphale a bit more to go on, more varied and personal approaches to what it meant to long for a childhood, what it looked like to recreate or reclaim it. Some of the information was definitely relevant, and he found himself bookmarking several pages for later.

Aziraphale made a side-track into age-play communities, but quickly wrote them off. Power dynamics in the bedroom weren’t foreign to him, but Crowley had never shown an interest in any sins of the flesh, not as an active demon and certainly not since the apocalypse. Aziraphale noted some of the nonsexual elements anyways, structures of power and control designed to give a stricter space in which someone could give up responsibility, knowing that punishment was only a foot-stomp away.

He found himself returning to the regression pages, flicking through the various things that people associated with childhood and recreating their childhood mindsets. In his own mind, he was making a list of ideas and questions to bring up whenever it came up again naturally. They had centuries, after all, and there was no rush.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale glanced up, surprised to know that Crowley had been watching him, and more surprised to feel that his lips were indeed curled into a smile.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply and faltered, knowing that Crowley wouldn’t be happy to hear that Aziraphale had been thinking about buying him a snake plushie and wondering exactly how adorable Crowley would be if he fell asleep while holding said plushie.

Crowley’s eyebrows raised even higher at Aziraphale’s silence.

“Are you looking at smut in the living room, angel?” His tone was teasing, and Aziraphale frowned at him.

“No, I was-” Aziraphale sighed and decided to see how Crowley reacted to the truth. “I was researching some things, after what you said the other day.” He paused, and Crowley gestured for him to elaborate. “About being curious, and human childhoods. I had some ideas, but I wanted to look into it first.”

“What did you find?” Crowley asked. Again, that casual veneer over a deep well of mingled interest and anxiety. Aziraphale put his tablet down on his lap and folded his hands over it.

“There are a few approaches to it, from what I saw. Many of them are dependent on human minds and memories, which isn’t applicable to our situation. There are some that explore dynamics of control: finding comfort or pleasure in giving up control to a responsible adult figure, while the other party is forcibly maintained as a child.” Crowley’s mouth screwed up at that, and Aziraphale smiled. “I did assume that wasn’t a direction you wanted to go in. We’ve both had our share of being told what to be, I think.”

Crowley set his tablet down as well, tapping black nails against the metal on the sides. “Is that it?”

“No, I also found some things that were more promising. Communities where the person is more in control of their own regression, and the caregiver is optional. A person who is there to make sure they stay safe while they’re exploring the world as a child. Giving them snacks, and affection, and removing any dangers.”

“Oh.” Crowley’s nails continued tapping. “I don’t know what it would be like.”

“To try being a child?”

“I don’t know what children are supposed to be like.” Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale felt a renewed wave of gratefulness that he had stopped wearing his sunglasses in the house. The ability to see the anxiety in Crowley’s amber eyes was more intimate than anything Aziraphale had shared with someone else before. “I won’t be very good at it.”

“My dear, I don’t need you to be anything like a human child,” Aziraphale said. “You can be anything you want to be and I’ll be here for you, I’m sure you know that.”

Crowley dipped his head, directing a badly-suppressed smile towards his knees. “You’re a nightmare, angel. You should write Hallmark cards.”

“Hallmark cards were all your lot,” Aziraphale sniffed, knowing quite well that it was a lie. “I was being sincere.”

“Of course.” Crowley flipped his tablet carelessly onto the floor and scooted over on the couch, a wordless invitation that Aziraphale accepted as soon as it was made. He sat beside Crowley with their legs pressing together and looked at their reflection in the dark screen of the TV in front of them.

“Do you want to try it sometime? I could get you presents, if you wanted. And we could go for a walk around the backyard.” Their cottage was a good way from any other people, the rolling hills stretching between the houses. Aziraphale imagined walking with Crowley, making sure that he didn’t get too close to the cliff edges, and the thought made him smile again. He wouldn’t mind taking closer care of Crowley, if such a thing were permitted now and then. “Or you could try it by yourself, the first few times, and see how it feels.”

“No, I- I think I’d like to try it together. If you would want to.” Crowley bumped his shoulder into Aziraphale’s. “I think it would be easier with someone else sharing the, the same idea. So that I didn’t have to make it up myself from scratch.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale rested an arm on the back of the couch, and Crowley leaned against him. Aziraphale knew that if he reached for Crowley’s hand, his fingers would be chilled. Crowley was still a little bit cold-blooded, glad for every bit of body heat that he could steal from Aziraphale. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Hallmark card,” Crowley muttered again, and Aziraphale gave him a little kiss on the top of his head as punishment.

Unfortunately, Crowley didn’t seem to mind much at all.

#agere #sfw agere #agere fic #agere fics #fandom agere #good omens agere #nsre #sfw age regression #agere writing #good omens #regressor!crowley #my fics #chapter two coming soon #evenings of eternity #chapter two should be up in the next couple days! it's all written it just needs editing

[cecilspeaks]

170 - To the Family and Friends

Love the winner, hate the win. Welcome to Night Vale.

I start today with sad news. I must inform you of the passing of Intern Victor. To the friends and family of Intern Victor, we extend our condolences. Oh, that reminds me. Our intern program has a new open spot available. Hours are flexible, as is time itself. You must be fluent in at least three languages, although one of those can be your own dream language, and another can be a future language that doesn’t yet exist. This is an entry level position. All applicants must have 30 years experience in the field of community radio, and have been the managing director of at least 2 radio stations, or equivalent unregistered stations broadcasting coded messages to our brave spies in the field. This is a non-paying position, but we do give you 4 credits to the institutions of your choice. Please apply in person by groveling before the Station Management door and crying: “Choose me! Choose me!” as their tendrils draw you slowly toward them. I look forward to meeting whoever is hired. Always so fun when we get a new intern.

And now for a look at the day’s news. The Night Vale Medical Association has ordered a review of the management of Night Vale Asylum, after a number of irregularities have cropped up involving a transdimensional missing plane and a pilot who could control people’s thoughts. “Honestly, we had a lot of cases like that back in the 60’s,” said Lonnie Chapman, chairman of the Medical Association. “Mental institutions used to be cruel places, where the fragile rift between dimensions was regularly breached and telekinetic powers were exploited. And people were treated as less than people, for the simple crime of having an illness that could not be found in the blood or the bile.” Lonnie settled back into the sagging comfort of his old arm chair, sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We endeavour to help, not to other,” he whispered. “It should be common sense, this kindness. Why is kindness not common sense?” He said this last so quietly that no one heard him. Dust motes circled tirelessly in the afternoon sun through the window. The Night Vale Medical Association is looking to shut down the outdated asylum and replace it with a brand new state of the art treatment center, located near Grove Park. More on this story as the story has more to it.

I guess I should get into a little more detail about how Intern Victor died, since some of you might be curious. You know, I think the story starts back in my very first days as host of this radio station. After the previous host, Leonard Burton, after – umm… ehhhh.. Once I took over as host of this radio station, Victor was one of my first interns. Eager and earnest and always helpful. He was first in the station in the morning and last one out at night. His research was impeccable. 

“That’s not true,” he would say every time I said something that wasn’t true. “That’s not true either,” he would say. He would say stuff like that a lot. He was very diligent. It kind of felt like we were starting this great adventure in radio broadcasting together. I thought that some day after I… after… ehhhhh.. ummm… once I was no longer host of this radio station, perhaps Victor would be the one to take over. “Some day, Victor,” I would murmur in the quietest hours of the night shift, “Some day maybe you will be where I am now.” “Maybe, Cecil,” he would say back into the intercom from the producer’s booth, “But for now, please stop murmuring that into the mic. We’re live right now. Then one day he told me he was leaving. That he appreciated all the time he had spent as an intern, that he had learned a lot, but that he felt his place in the world was not with radio after all. [sputters] “Not with radio?!” I sputtered. I simply did not understand the concept. “If there is not community radio, then what is there? What is there besides that? Will someone tell me what else there is?” “Thank you for our time together,” he said gently, and then he left. It would be the last time I saw him for many years.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s sponsor is White Claw’s new line of non-alcoholic alcoholic Seltzer beverages. Listen, everyone loves a good carbonated beverage. On a hot day, out at the beach, or not at the beach, the two places it is possible to be. It’s great to just pop one of those bad boys open and really let that water with bubbles rip on your gullet. But not everyone likes to drink alcohol, for a variety of reasons that are never ever your business. Just don’t ask or bring it up. It’s so easy to not do that. That’s why White Claw is proud to announce the newest version of our alcoholic Seltzer beverage, now without alcohol! It’s everything you loved about Seltzer water, but for the first time, you don’t have to get intoxicated. Flavors include blackberry, wild nettle, wet stone, and one we’re just calling “Tumbleweed Crush”. Even we aren’t completely clear on what that one tastes like, but hey, it’s water and it’ll make you burp without making you drunk. White Claw’s new line of non-alcoholic alcoholic Seltzer beverages. Available wherever you buy your alcoholic Seltzer beverages. This has been a word from our sponsors.

I didn’t finish with the story of how Intern Victor died, I guess. Ummm, let me quickly wrap that up. So, a few years after he left, he came back again. He was older than me now with salt and pepper hair and a stiffness to his walk. When he had left, he had been several years younger than me, but time changes us all, I suppose. “Cecil! I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” he said. I bristled at this, hearing a perceived implication that I should have gone on to something larger, that by staying put I had allowed him to be pull ahead of me in some intangible way. So I responded with manic friendliness to compensate. “Still here!” I shouted. “Great to see ya, buddy wo-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-how! What have you been up to?” He told me that he had left Night Vale, gotten an apartment just outside of somewhere called Fresno, that it was difficult at first, and that he felt lonely much of the time. But that he had slowly made friends, so many friends, and had found a job that became a career that became part of his life. He worked with teenagers who were going through a tough time, seeing them through to better times. He was very well liked for what he did, and he was very good at it. “But I’ve decided to retire,” he said. “I’m getting up in the years, you know? But wow, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day.” “I haven’t,” I said. He was so much older than me then. I wondered where the years had gone and what I might have accomplished, if I had aged as well. He had retired to Night Vale to be with his family and friends and the people who knew and loved him best, and relax into the soft years of his latter life. So that… wait. Well, that’s not how he died, but I have to get to this next report. I’ll finish it in a second.

And now traffic. There was a song once sung by sailors of an island in the west, where the sun would shine forever and not a minute less. They say that on that island a sailor could find their rest, finally let slip shut their eyelids on that island in the west. But I’ve been searching, and been searching all my life, as though some cruel test, and have never found my way to that island in the west. There was a song once sung by sailors and I believed it, I confess. A foul lie I still believe in, my sweet island in the west. This has been traffic.

Intern Victor lived in Night Vale for many years more. He was active in charities and volunteer groups, continuing to offer counseling to students at the local high school. He lived in the Hefty Sycamore Trailer Park, watering a garden of flowers that he kept in pots around his trailer. It seemed that Victor was even more busy in retirement than he had been in his long career. Returning to his community seemed to invigorate him. He helped Carlos with experiments at the labs, donning goggles and lab coats and writing down numbers with hearts around them, all of that science stuff. Carlos said he was surprisingly good at it for someone without training. He worked with Dana at City Hall, creating the No More Pit initiative, which strove to keep one teen a year from entering that pit on Clement Street and disappearing forever. Now, the initiative was unsuccessful and the pit continues to devour but they, it was the attempt that matters. He acted as a volunteer lifeguard at the Waterfront Recreation Area, at which he saved a record five people in one day from drowning! A truly astounding record when you consider that there is no water at the Waterfront Recreation Area, Night Vale having an entirely arid climate.

Yes, Intern Victor was accomplished and well liked. He would have made a fine host at this radio station some day, but he never showed much interest, which is a pity. Because after I… After, well… Who will take up that mantle? Not Victor, not anymore. Well, I guess I still haven’t told the story of how he died.

Uh, let me do that just After the weather. 

[A List for Spring” by Joseph Fink https://josephfink.bandcamp.com/]

Victor was in bed. The curatin over the window shifted slightly in the breeze, so the sun flickered in the room, shadow and bright, like a message from the world outside that he would never live to understand. His breath felt like a finite quantity, slowly drawn out of his chest. He knew that the last of it was coming soon. He wanted to use the drags of his breath for words that would sum up his life, but he couldn’t think of any. He could only think of “I am tired”. He could only think of “Thank you for being here.” He could only think of “I wish I had more time”, although eh didn’t know what he would have done with that time if he had any. 

Around his bed were the people who had known him throughout his life. There was his sister Carly, and his brother Herman, and his aunt Ronnie, ancient and brittle but apparently destined to outlive him. There was his friend from college, Norm, whose hands shook as he looked into Victor’s eyes. There was former mayor Dana and her brother, leaning into each other in sorrow, keeping each other upright as a family creature of grief. There was Carlos in an understated lab coat, frowning. There was nothing more scientific than death, and yet Carlos hated the fact of it. And he wrestled with the contradiction within himself. Some natural processes feel unnatural, no matter how many times they occur to us, they are a surprise that our whole life spends telegraphing.

In the corner was Rosario, one of the teenagers Victor had worked with back in Fresno, who had eventually moved to Night Vale after getting lost in the shelves of a strange antique shop and waking up in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. She was middle-aged now, her face glistened with tears. “Everything I am is because of you,” she said. Victor snorted. “Don’t blame me,” he said with one of those last precious breaths. And she grinned despite herself. “You were the first person that cared about who I was,” she said. “I’ll never forget you.” “Already I’m in past tense,” he said, but he grabbed her hand and clasped it in a fervent silent thank you. Because she was testament that he had been useful, and there was nothing more important in a human life than to be useful to other people.

I was there too, and I stepped forward. “You were the best intern I ever had,” I said. “I know,” he said, and he winked.

It can be… strange when we first meet someone when they are young and just started out, and are in the entry positions in the career they want, to realize they have the potential for an entire life. Victor ended up a great man. A man with deep roots in the community. A man who went from 10 years younger than me to several decades older than me. And I… well, I still think of him as an intern, and I suppose I always will, but his potential was realized upon the lives of everyone in that room, and many other lives still.

A strong breeze came through the window and the flickering of light increased, as though that incoherent messenger was getting more frantic to be understood. Victor knew that his finite breaths had reached their last few. And he did not use them to say anything at all. He smiled, and met each of our eyes, and then… And then after…

To the family and friends of Intern Victor. To the family. To our families, blood or chosen. They are the net on which we can fall again and again. To the friends, to our friends. The people who make life worth living. Who help us when we need help. Who we help when we need to help.

Intern Victor was a good intern. He was a good person. He is gone. We are here. Let’s make ourselves useful. To all families. To all friends.

Stay tuned next for a tall glass of water greedily, drunk by a person who did not realize they were thirsty until the liquid hit their lips.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Earth is technically a sandwich, where the upper bread is stars and the lower bread is stars and the filling is rock and lava and a few incidental humans.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv transcrfpts #episode 170 #to the family and friends

[thefeastandthefast]

Finally done with this garbage.

*insert “IT’S DONE” Frodo gif here*

Of course it remains hot garbage all the way to the end. I’ll be honest, I skimmed through the last two episodes posted on YouTube because I just needed it to be over so I could reclaim brain space. So forgive me if I miss anything. 

WARNING, SUPER LONG RANT UNDER CUT.

Of course there’s no satisfactory closure for any of the relationships that were built in the first quarter of the show. Maoze and Danshu never get a final scene together. I didn’t expect there to be one, since her character development had long ossified into Song Dynasty Stepford Wife. Maoze, too, remains completely devoted to the emperor to the end. I’m actually surprised that I wasn't more upset about the lack of resolution for my Straw Hat babies. But then again, I lost interest in what they’d do with drama!Danshu twenty episodes ago. 

He’er seems to have forgiven the emperor for all the suffering he put her and her daughter through. The last thing she says is that she has finally succeeded in accompanying her 6th Prince for an entire long lifetime. Doesn’t matter that she was ready to kill herself to defend Huirou just a couple episodes ago. What is character development?

Huirou’s trauma is so great that she has permanently broken with reality and regressed back into her childhood memories. He’er is relieved of this, because it means Huirou can live in her head in a happier time. 

And before we’re shown all that, we get a scene where shitstain emperor gets to explain once more to Huirou why she’s at fault for everyone’s misery and why the stability of the empire is in danger because of her willfulness. She agrees to part from Huaiji forever, for the greater good. This is filmed and presented to us as a touching father-daughter heart to heart and not as the implicitly threatening psychological abuse that it is. Throughout the conversation, he defends Sima Guang as a true patriot who just cares about the people and their needs, though that asshole has been the megaphone of Neo-Confucian hyperconservatism this whole time, shouting for Huaiji’s head and for Huirou to be punished and thrown back into her torture chamber marriage. Yet another entry in the list of shitty powerful men who are absolved of the pain and suffering they cause without remorse, as long as they’ve got a platform and big mouths to spew enough words out to convince themselves and other powerful men of their moral superiority.

And the last we see of Huaiji, is him making an obeisance to the emperor’s memory. I’d wondered why the show added in the storyline of Huaiji’s brother, when Huaiji barely had any scenes or lines to express the pain of losing his family and future or his feelings about finding his roots again. There was only one scene, as far as I can remember. The purpose of writing Huaiji’s family backstory wasn’t to give more dimension to Huaiji’s character. No, It was actually to make the emperor more sympathetic and so that he could heroically be the instrument for the brothers’ eventual reunion in the end. 

So Zhao Zhen gets to die beloved by all the women he destroyed and lauded by all who once questioned and criticized him. He gets to die in Danshu’s arms as she sobs “take me with you”. The last words on the screen are ones that celebrate his legacy as a benevolent ruler, taken from the Yuan Dynasty-era History of Song.

Let’s be honest, this drama is Chinese history used as political propaganda the entire way through. Because there are splashes of period-accurate detail (like the “three white makeup” and all the Song literati cameos), it gives the entire drama an air of legitimacy and lures you into thinking that they took their research seriously. But really the period detail is just a nice, glossy coat obscuring the insidious bones of this revisionist monstrosity. And the last two episodes really peel away that coat to reveal the machinery underneath. 

If I’m generous, I’ll say that the accuracy of some characterizations in this drama is highly suspect, but I suppose still debatable. Writing an Empress Cao who steadfastly and quietly loved Zhao Zhen despite his historically well-documented, decades-long suspicion of her... like, FINE, even if I think it’s illogical, sexist, bad writing, one can argue it’s fair game for creative license, given the inherently uncertain task of knowing the true feelings and motivations of people living a thousand years ago. 

But then you have something like the fallout of Huirou’s marriage, Zhao Zhen’s role in that sad business, and Li Wei’s later actions, which just completely and merrily skips away from actual historical fact and leaves the most telling details of her tragic end untold. Because to depict the actual events would make Zhao Zhen and Li Wei indefensible. 

Given that China is currently in the midst of an extremely concerning rise in Han nationalism, where Chinese traditional culture (everything from philosophy to art to clothing to music) is being co-opted and reframed to entrench narratives of Han superiority, it’s a problem when this Song Dynasty alternate history is presented as truth. It used to be that anything to do with Chinese traditional culture was suspect and would be in danger of destruction, especially during the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). But now this destruction is a little bit more subtle. Instead of just straight-up smashing Song Dynasty tombs, just dismantle and reconfigurate them piece by piece to create a little shrine for the current ruling party. To tell this story about the struggles of governance from the perspective of the head of the ruling elite during one of the wealthiest times of imperial Chinese history- I just don't believe that was a decision made purely for creative license.  

It’s a perfectly valid stance not to care how history is interpreted as long as it’s good entertainment. I’m certainly not one to let historical inaccuracy keep me from enjoying my period films and TV shows (to a degree, lol). But I also find my experience of historical fiction more illuminating and enjoyable when I try to parse out what’s supported by evidence and what isn’t. So I can try to understand the reasons behind a writer’s decisions for excluding stuff that’s supported and including stuff that isn’t. Because how and what elements of the past are used in popular fiction matter, and they shape our attitudes on so much more than just entertainment.  

So, to end my last long-ass rant about this horrible drama that’s eaten up so much of my time and energy, I’m gonna pour one out for the historical figures who got short shrifted: 

For the historical Empress Cao, who made it through Renzong’s reign without losing her throne, even though Renzong tried and failed several times to depose her. Who promoted highly Zhang Maoze soon after Renzong’s death despite the protests of Sima Guang and didn’t go down without a fight when they wanted her to retire as regent.   

For the historical Consort Miao, who plotted with Consort Yu to try to bring down Li Wei and begged Renzong to execute Li Wei with poisoned wine, all to get her daughter out of the marriage.

For the historical Princess Fukang, who was finally allowed a divorce in early 1062, after attempting suicide multiple times. Who was then forced by Renzong to remarry Li Wei less than a year later. Who died at the age of 33 in a household with people who hated and abused her. The extent of that abuse was discovered by her nephew Emperor Shenzong after she died when he showed up for the funeral. He wept in front of his ministers describing the treatment she had received from Li Wei for the last seven years of her life: she had not been given adequate food, clothing, or medical care. Her body and bedding was infested with lice and she had burn scars on her face from trying to light her own coals. I think it’s important to acknowledge just how much this benevolent father of hers failed her after everything, even after she probably thought she had escaped, even if the show won’t.   

#serenade of peaceful joy #held in the lonely castle #清平乐 #cdrama #chinese history #period drama #historical drama #my commentary

[tony-starkrogers]

rec week day five

For the Cap-IM rec week 2019 day five: Fix-It Friday! @cap-ironman

There are so many good fix-its out there - this list is divided into categories to make it easier if you’re looking for a specific type of fix-it. Be sure to go show these writers some comments and kudos love!

CACW FIX-ITS

Last Train Home by erde (T, 10.9k)

Steve writes letters to Tony that he never sends. By the time he hands them to their rightful owner, Tony has had a brush with death, has retired as a superhero, and now has a small town workshop of his very own. But it's okay, Steve has gone into retirement too.

Over Sea, Under Stars by vorkosigan (T, 36.6k)

Tony gets the phone, but he never uses it and he never intends to. Or, he doesn’t until Steve starts texting him, asking strange questions about medication and mental health, which is when Tony gets worried.

(A texting fix-it that grew beyond all proportion. Deals with depression and anxiety quite a lot. There is even some plot in there somewhere.)

If I were a Bell by Annie D (scaramouche) @no-gorms (E, 4.2k)

Officially, Tony hasn't seen Steve since the Sokovia Accords were ratified. Unofficially, Steve is a sneaky bastard who keeps taking risks to see Tony whenever he wants.

Dear Tony, by sirona (T, 5.9k)

Once the dust after what no one is referring to as "The Break-up" has settled, Steve starts writing and doesn't seem to know how to stop.

Even My Phone Misses Your Call by rainbowninja167 (E, 10.8k)

Steve makes it all the way to Ohio before conceding that the post-Chitauri road trip might’ve been a mistake.

Or, ten times Steve has to call Tony to come pick him up.

An Infinite Number Of Monkeys At Typewriters (Or, Steve and Tony Finally Get It Right) by JenTheSweetie (M, 18.6k)

Tony blinked up at the face staring down at him. This was impossible. This was definitely 100% not possible, he had not just started giving a good morning handy to -

“Steve?”

After the events of Civil War, Tony and Steve wake up in bed next to each other in an alternate universe. It goes about as well as you'd expect it to.

Like a Postcard Phrase by isaksara (T, 8.6k)

How to say ‘wish you were here’ without actually saying so, as done by Captain Steve Rogers.

IW FIX-ITS

The Future is Yet in Your Power by @festiveferret (T, 14.9K

"Now." Wong leaned back in his chair. "What would you do to save this world from Thanos' attack? What would you sacrifice?"

"Anything," Steve said. "Anything at all."

Wong considered him for a moment, expression unreadable. "There's one thing, maybe."

Recognize Fate (A Dramedy of Manners) by vorkosigan (E, 25.4k)

During the horror that was the Infinity War, Tony has somehow managed to fall in love with Steve. No, really, his timing's always been stellar, in all things. He would like to pursue his feelings, he would; only, this doesn't mesh so well with his other resolution: Steve must never ever know.

It's been a year since the victory, and the time has come to celebrate. Everyone is about to meet again at a big gala.

live wire by spqr (M, 7.8k)

The marks are a welcome distraction. The media fixates on them, the mystery of them, because it's a lot less daunting to think about big thumbprints on your back or your side or your thigh than to think about how the planet's population just dropped from 7 to 3.5 billion overnight.

(as a side effect of Thanos’ culling, everyone who’s left gets a soulmark)

Lost With You (Might Be All I Need) by ann2who (E, 22k)

Tony and Steve fall through a portal just after defeating Thanos and his army. Stranded in another dimension, the two have to finally face what happened—and what could have been.

The Future Is Ours (Whether We Want It Or Not) by ann2who (M, 30k)

After a hit from the Time Stone, Steve switches places with his future self.

when i run out of road, you bring me home by quidhitch (M, 18.4k)

“Oh, I won’t bother you.” The tone of Steve’s voice implies that he definitely will be bothering Tony, aggressively and frequently. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep to my farm, you keep to yours. Solitude together.”Tony opens his mouth to argue that that’s not how this works, but he snaps it shut at the realization that Steven Grant Rogers is fucking with him. That twinkle in his eye has accelerated into a full-on glimmer, and the ends of his lips are twitching. Jesus, he hates this man. Or maybe he wishes he did. Tony can’t really tell the difference anymore.

A New Way For Us by ann2who (M, 24.4k)

They fight Thanos—and they’re losing. And before Tony knows what’s happening, he’s standing with Doctor Strange in front of the Eye of Agamotto and gets send back in time. Can he find a way to fix things this time around, or are they doomed to fall apart all over again?

ENDGAME FIX-ITS

Five Seconds by @elcorhamletlive (unrated, 3k)

From the moment Steve suits up, he knows what he’ll do.

brave new world by @nasafic (T, 2.7k)

Steve visits Peggy first. But he doesn't stay.

And Time Can Do So Much by JenTheSweetie (M, 11.1k)

"I really shouldn’t be talking to a figment of my imagination,” Steve said. “Sam would be reading me the riot act. I can hear him now. Therapy works wonders, you know.”“Sounds like Wilson,” Tony agreed. “And therapy does work wonders. You might want to look into it, once it becomes a thing in a couple of years.”“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve said.A few years after Steve moved permanently back in time, he started having conversations with Tony again.

Something Beautiful by Annie D (scaramouche) (T, 5.2k)

In one universe sideways, it’s 2012 and the Avengers have just defeated Loki and the Chitauri. Steve Rogers, who has been out of the ice for almost ten years, wonders if his retaking the shield for this event was a one-off, or if he’s ready to keep it again. It depends on Tony.

Same old story. by spqr (T, 7.4k)

“We’re toasting our regrets,” Tony explains. “Your turn."“Oh,” Steve says.It takes him a long minute to think of something. Or, more likely, it takes him a long moment to work up the courage. But then he turns and raises his bottle to Tony. Looks him dead in the eyes, a sad, sort of wistful smile on his face, and says, “You.”

The God of Solid Life Advice by kehinki (T, 1.5k)

It's 2012. Steve is just informed by Loki that Bucky's alive.Loki also tells him some other things.

Symmetry Breaking by Annie D (scaramouche) @no-gorms (E, 10.8k)

After the Battle of New York, Steve rode off on his motorbike. That's how it went the first time.This time he rides back, all the way to Stark Tower, where he asks Tony for help.

The Butterfly Effect by @itsallavengers (T, 20.5k)

While fighting with Loki, Steve Rogers from 2012 hears the two simple words: "Bucky's alive."And the whole universe ripples with the aftershocks.

616 FIX-ITS

Yours, Steve by soniclipstick (veriscence) (T, 8.3k)

Tony has read the news, he’s seen footage of the infighting and the arrest and Steve’s bloody body on the courthouse steps. He might not remember, but he understands why Steve can barely look him in the eye anymore.But there’s a ring on the chain of a set of dog tags that have no business being in Tony’s safe. And it fits his finger perfectly.

Your Name on Every Wall by @sineala (T, 17.8k)

The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.

Highest fall you'll ever grace by @laireshi (T, 5.2k)

“You’ll probably want these back,” Tony says at last, and it hurts almost physically to pull the dog tags over his head and offer them to Steve. But they never really belonged to Tony, did they?

Steve seems to hesitate for a second, but then he takes his dog tags with a weird expression. “Yeah,” he says. “They’re mine.”

Double Time by @sineala (E, 123.3k)

Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders -- and it's the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something's happened that's clearly killing him inside, but he's not talking. When Director Stark's failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

Transmission by laireshi (T, 29.1k)

The incursions are stopped. Steve hopes for things to go back to normal. Instead, he finds himself stranded in an alternate universe with Tony.

Getting home won't be easy. There are too many things they haven't told each other, too many arguments they've never solved.

Now, with just each other for company, they might have to face them all—especially as they seem to be telepathically bonded, and can't keep anything unsaid anymore.

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE FIX-IT

Moments by captainshellhead, vibraniumstark (G, 5.4k) (avengers assemble)

After being trapped in a pocket dimension, Tony tries to find his way home - and ends up lost in the multiverse.

#capimrecweek #stevetony #stony #stony fic rec #superhusbands

[ancientwastedlores]

The Support System (Ch: 8)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Fic requests are welcome! 

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 

Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

______________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 8:

The agents are dropped off at the Avengers facility, while you, Nat, Clint, and Sam are taken to the Avengers Tower. Thor went back to Asgard directly from Hong Kong.

Everyone had a chance to take a shower in the jet, so you’re feeling pretty refreshed going in. Some agents in the building greet you on your way to your room. Some offer to help with your bags and gear, you say no thanks, you got it.

You open the door to your room and see Loki in your bed.

The watch next to him reads 11AM. He usually doesn’t sleep this late. You let him be, and place your bags at the back of the room, and on your way back to exit the room, you stop by the bed to look. 

Loki sleeps peacefully, wearing his soft cotton pyjamas. It's meditative just to watch him breathe, so you smile and linger a moment longer. You look closer and see him hugging one of your hoodies. Your eyes widen and you quickly walk out, shutting the door behind you. You lean against the wall, unsure of what you saw, and why it was happening.

You honestly don’t know what to think, and know ignoring it won’t make it go away. You decide to ask Tony if Loki has been acting strangely or anything knowing fully he will say "I told you so". 

xx

‘I TOLD YOU SO’ Tony yells.

You just accepted that his idea of letting Vision go in the mirror dimension with the stone was good, after reading Strange’s email out loud.

‘When do we start?’ he asks, his eyes gleaming. He rubs his hands together, a wide grin playing on his lips. Surrounded by all his lab equipment, sparkling and whirring, it makes him look like an evil mad scientist.

‘We still don’t know how to use the stone. And we can’t let Vision puppet for us when we still don’t know what to do’ you explain.  ‘Vision would know’ ‘You sound unsure...’ you pat Tony’s back. ‘We waited this long, we can wait a while longer till Thor is here’. ‘Isn’t it just hold and think’ he rolls his eyes. ‘Tony, it’s not a sonic screwdriver’. He looks at you questioningly. You shrug. ‘It’s a Doctor Who thing’.

He turns to walk away.

‘I did want to ask though, um…’ you hesitate.

He looks at you, waiting.

‘Did Loki say anything while I was gone? Or… do anything weird?’ Bruce, who has been listening, interjects. ‘He kept asking if we know how you guys are doing’. ‘Anything else?’ ‘Nope. We haven’t seen him around too much’. ‘We still see him at breakfast usually’ Tony provides. You furrow your brows. ‘Yeah, I uh…’ ‘What?’ Tony asks. ‘Nothing, I just saw him in my bed hugging one of my shirts... I don’t know how to perceive that’. ‘Well’ Bruce says. ‘If you don’t feel the same way, you should tell him before he finds out the hard way and goes insane’. You wrinkle your nose at the accusation. ‘Insane is a bit of a stretch. And I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know IF I feel’. ‘Are you gonna ask him about it?’ Tony asks. ‘I’m sure there’s a reason he hasn’t come out with it yet, I’ll just let him take his time with it’.

Tony nods, and returns to his work.

‘I will admit; I’m surprised you’re taking this so well’ you tell Tony. ‘Uhuh…’ Tony keeps working. ‘Uhuh? Why the change of heart?’

Bruce and Tony say nothing. You turn to look at Bruce, who is bending a little too much over his computer trying to avoid your gaze.

‘Bruce…’ you say. ‘Hm?’ he says without looking up.

You look back at Tony and catch him glaring at Bruce.

‘Oh my god, something happened, tell me, tell me RIGHT NOW’ you exclaim. ‘Bruce…’ Tony warns. ‘LOKI KNOWS HOW TO USE THE STONES AND TONY SAID TO TEACH VISION’ Bruce blurts out.

Your eyes widen, and you look back at Tony. ‘WHAT!?’  ‘He heard Bruce and I talk about it and offered to help and I said okay’ Tony says, his tone a tad defensive.  ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ you skip behind the table and hug Tony. ‘Good on you for giving him a chance’. ‘If you tell Natasha I allowed this, you’re fired’.

You roll your eyes, remembering Natasha give a similar threat in Queens. Tony and Nat are forever in some sort of unspoken competition.

‘So we don’t have to wait for Thor, we can start right away!’ you exclaim. ‘Yeah, there’s another thing though’ Bruce gets up from behind his desk. ‘Loki said that the way Strange got his stone to talk was a hack- described it like the operating system of a computer’. ‘Okay?’ ‘Basically, Strange hacked into the Time Gem, so the other stones strengthened their own, in a sense, operating systems. It’s going to take longer, and be tougher, with the reality gem’. ‘We aren’t lacking time, so it’s fine’ you point out. ‘Strange did say he’s busy this month, so that gives Vision time to train’.

Tony and Bruce agree, and then politely kick you out of the lab to go rest after your week long mission abroad.

xx

Unsure of what to do, you just roam the halls, saying hi to random agents walking around. No one will train with you, because Tony ordered them to not let you. You don’t feel like reading another bunch of papers. You aren’t allowed in the lab. And Loki’s asleep, so you can’t watch Doctor Who.

So you go the kitchen and see what’s there to eat. Sam’s there, with Rhodey, describing the badass Kaecilius cage, and how it works.

‘Hi!’ you say. Rhodey waves at you. ‘Okay, come here, I wanna demonstrate how the cage got that guy to fall to his knees’ Sam motions for you to come over.

You walk over to them and stand before Sam. He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you to him. ‘So the tiny disk has these arms that go around your torso…’ he lets go and takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them back, ‘…pulls your arms back…’ he uses his knee to gently kick the back of your knees so you fall on the carpet, ‘…hits the back of your knees with force so you hit the floor, and damn, it looks like the fall hurts…’ you can’t help but laugh, thinking of how odd this whole scene would look if someone were to walk in. 

‘HEY’

The three of you turn to look at the entrance, where Loki is glaring at Sam, clearly unaware of the gag here.

The next second, Loki teleports right next to Sam and pushes him off of you.

‘STAY BACK’ Rhodey yells, standing up and pointing an Iron Glove at Loki. They stare each other down.  ‘Rhodey, it’s fine…’ you motion for him to put his Glove down. ‘It’s just a misunderstanding’.

Sam gets up. ‘I’m good’ he announces. ‘Loki, we were just showing Rhodey how this particular trap works, and Sam was using me to demonstrate’ you explain. 

Loki looks you up and down to check if you’re okay. You’re sustaining a few old bruises and cuts from your spar with Loki and your mission, but nothing too recent. He looks at Sam. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’. ‘It’s no trouble’ Sam sits on the couch. ‘Just so you know, though, we don’t revel in beating each other up’.

You sense Loki remember the "friendly fight" before the extraction mission, and he starts to walk away.

‘Hey’ you grab his arm. ‘You wanna continue Doctor Who? I’m not doing anything’. ‘Yes’ he smiles, relieved. 

xx

‘Matt Smith is undoubtedly my second favourite Doctor’ you declare, as the DVD loads. ‘You said the same thing about Capaldi’ Loki reminds you. ‘Ah, the second spot is interchangeable’. ‘Who’s the first, then?’ ‘Jodie Whittaker’ you grin.  

Loki plops down next to you, and you hit play. The opening theme starts.

‘When did you get back?’ Loki asks. ‘Around 11’. ‘Oh…’

You internally scold yourself for not changing the time, because now you’ve gone and made him feel awkward. But he says nothing, and you allow it to be that way. The show starts.

xx

Weeks pass. Business as usual continues, with regular training hours, Loki and Vision playing around with the Reality stone, and Tony breaking apart and analysing the new tech. He has barely scratched the surface, and often asks you and Nat to come to the lab and test it out.

Weekdays consist of work, weekends have the Avengers drinking and having a good time. Everyone seems cooler with Loki too, which thrills you. You just want everyone to get along.

One of the weekends, Tony suggested karaoke. He only did it so he’d get to show off his rendition of ‘Fly Me to The Moon’, but everyone excitedly agreed.

So on the week, you see every Avenger spend a lot more time in their rooms, retiring early and coming to breakfast late, to practice for the weekend. Tony did say there would be a prize. You chuckled at how seriously some people took it, comparing them to little children. But once Nat asked you to listen to her belt out the Postmodern Jukebox version of ‘Oops, I Did It Again’, you started to get into it, abandoning your Doctor Who marathons with Loki to practice in your room.

‘Can I watch you?’ Loki had asked once. ‘Absolutely not’ you said. ‘You can wait till the weekend’.

Not watching TV with you till late night left no excuse for Loki to spend the night in your room, and you saw him struggle to come up with a story for two whole days - it was quite entertaining, but a little sad too. It ranged from "You left your phone in the kitchen, I'm just here to return it" to "I worked all day on the stones, do you want to just relax with a drink and a movie?". You thought of just offering, but told yourself that if he wants something, he should just ask and not expect it to be handed to him. You just threw yourself into prepping your routine, because you saw Thor had a routine, and you weren’t about to be upstaged by him.

Nat asks you at dinner what song you plan to sing, and you refused to say anything at all.

‘Mine’s a secret too’ Tony said, grinning. ‘We all know you’re doing “Fly Me to The Moon”, Tony’ Nat says. Tony frowns, and everyone laughs.

Finally, one night Loki does just come and say he couldn’t sleep in his room alone, and asks if he can continue sleeping in your room.

‘Yeah. Why didn’t you just ask before?’ you ask. He shrugs. ‘I just didn’t want to ask too much of you’. No, that wasn’t it, but you smile. ‘It’s no problem. When I’m done with my practice, I'll let you know’. ‘Or you can stay in my room?’ he offers. ‘Nope’ you say calmly, but internally panic. In your room, you have control. You weren’t giving that up. 

He accepts and leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

______________________________________________________________

Next chapter, karaoke! <3 

#loki #loki x you #loki x reader #tom hiddleston x you #avengers fanfiction #marvel fandom #loki fanfic #avengers tower #loki fluff #fanfic #tom hiddleston

[weirdmarioenemies]

Okay I can’t take it anymore I need to talk about Wrinkly Kong

I know I’ve said before that Rare’s Donkey Kong universe is weird, but I think the tragic tale of Wrinkly Kong takes the cake. Yes, even moreso than fashionable crocodile nipples. Gather around, children. I am going to tell you the tale of a kindly old gorilla who is dead.

Wrinkly first appears in Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest, where she runs Kong Kollege, a school system on Crocodile Isle. She allows Diddy and Dixie to save their game and offers advice, but especially interesting is that she talks about trying to (unsuccessfully) educate Kremlings, even asking the Kongs to ask K. Rool if he’s finished his homework! In a world consumed by the war between crocodile and simian, Wrinkly Kong is a beacon of wisdom, welcoming everyone and trying to unite them through knowledge. (Also, I’d highly recommend trying to read the words on the pages in this render.)

Wrinkly reappears in Donkey Kong Country 3: Dixie Kong’s Double Trouble, and I am really digging her Hip Active Grandma Style! What I’m not digging, however, are the added details on this render. Unlike the previous one, these details are not silly and lighthearted. These details are an alarming reminder of how the body deteriorates with age, and that makes me uncomfortable. I do not like to be reminded of the inevitability of death! I want to see funny gorilla shenanigans!

Luckily, she at least indulges in some of those. She still allows the Kongs to save their game, but is now retired from teaching, and instead spends her time dancing, sleeping, and playing Super Mario 64™ on her Nintendo 64™ system. She also watches over the Banana Birds the player has collected, and in the Game Boy Advance remake, apparently... becomes a spiritual follower of them. Okay!

And then there’s Donkey Kong 64. The game whose portrayal of Wrinkly Kong has utterly shattered my brain.

Wrinkly Kong is dead now. She is deceased. She is no longer with us.

Imagine being a child in the ‘90s and loving the Donkey Kong series, always eager to see what fun adventures your primate pals will get into next. Imagine Donkey Kong 64 coming out, bringing them for the first time ever into the third dimension. And then imagine discovering that the lovely grandma gorilla died between games. What could that possibly feel like?! Readers, were any of you that child? Please tell us what it was like!

Wrinkly still gives advice, and now does so after you find her by opening these Wrinkly Doors. Gigantic doors all over the place that have a dead old lady’s face on them. Okay. When she appears, she is accompanied by what the wiki describes as both “bone-chilling sounds of spirits” and “an eldritch howl”. I can’t find this sound online, so I will need to take their word for it. She also has her own theme music, which... wow. It legitimately unsettles me. It really captures the “dead loved one” vibe. I’m just kind of sad now. So... be warned before listening.

But Wrinkly Kong isn’t here to make you sad. She is here to stay! This Kong defied life and death in order to be with her family again, and she is never, ever leaving. In DK: King of Swing and Donkey Kong: Barrel Blast, she’s even a playable character! Wow! I hope she’s the next character brought back for the modern Donkey Kong Country series so we can play as her in an epic platforming masterpiece!

Wrinkly Kong as a character is just completely bonkers. And I love her so, SO much. She basically embodies the weirdness of Rare’s games. I hope you love her, too.

#wrinkly kong #donkey kong country 2 #donkey kong 64 #mario allies #mod chikako

[aion-rsa]

Rick and Morty’s Most Gruesome Deaths

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The super-slick, super-sick Rick and Morty brand is known for many things: the warped, borderline-abusive dynamic between its titular characters, its deliciously dark humour, the gleefulness it takes in capsizing the conventions of a thousand genre tropes. Then there are the catch-phrases, and the colourful cast of supporting characters – everything from fatally-depressed Mr Meseeks to embedded family friends like Mr Poopybutthole. What really characterises it though, is death. That it’s not the first association you make with the show is possibly a by-product of there being so damn much of it that it stops registering.

There are long deaths, slow deaths, good deaths, bad deaths, sad deaths, funky deaths, perfunctory deaths, ironic deaths, iconic deaths, horrid deaths, hilarious deaths and hectares of borderline disturbing deaths.

Here are the most gruesome, in all their gory glory, season by season. (It’s a testament to Rick and Morty’s perpetually heavy ante that a little girl having her head sliced off by a Freddy Krueger substitute doesn’t even make it onto the list.)

I hope you haven’t eaten yet.

S1, E3 ‘Anatomy Park’ Come Flay With Me

Morty fails to save a fellow miniaturised man when things go south in ‘Anatomy Park’, a themed pleasure experience situated inside the body of a chronically unwell homeless man. The poor soul is sucked through the dying tramp’s windpipe and out through his mouth, the skin and flesh being stripped from his bones in the process, leaving him a peeled human spit-ball.

S1, E3 ‘Anatomy Park’ Space Guts

Things aren’t any less gruesome when the bloated corpse of the tramp is made giant by science. It ends up floating in space – because of course it does – whereupon it’s blown to smithereens, sending bone and guts spiralling into the void.

S1, E5 ‘Meeseeks and Destroy’ Who You Gonna Kill?

Morty not only finds himself preyed upon by parasite zombie versions of his family, but also has to watch as they’re trapped, burned, squished, melted and pulled into a piece of trapping technology that Rick clearly ripped from Egon’s ghost-busting manual.

S1, E5 ‘Meeseeks and Destroy’ Fairytale Ending

A fairytale giant – in the ‘Fe Fi Fo Fum’ mould – slips in his kitchen and slams his skull on a table-top. He bleeds out, a look of mystified shock frozen in his eyes, convulsing as his life-force ebbs away. RIP childhood.

S1, E6 ‘Rick Potion #9’ RIP and Mortal

In a sequence as chilling as it is gruesome, Rick mishandles some super-dangerous piece of kit and blows himself and Morty to Kingdom Come. Their crumpled remains, spattered with blood, smash against the wall; Rick’s eye pops out. Our own – thankfully unscathed – Rick and Mortys arrive from a doomed neighbouring dimension to bury them and take their place.

S1, E8 ‘Rixty Minutes’ Lepre-gone

You should never watch Inter-dimensional TV on a full stomach. In this advert, a cereal-hocking leprechaun – the mascot of this universe’s favourite breakfast cereal, Strawberry Smiggles – is pinned down on a tree stump by a little boy and girl, who proceed to slit open his abdomen and feast on his spilled-out innards; even squeezing out cereal shapes from his intestines and gobbling them like Pez sweets.

S2, E4 ‘Total Rickall’ Memory Massacre

Morty and family encounter shape-shifting alien parasites that reproduce through implanting false memories in a host’s brain. Their pus-fountained death throes – as their bodies wither, wilt, and burst in a screaming fanfare of tentacles – is pretty gruesome to behold, but thankfully you become desensitised to it pretty quickly.

S2, E7 ‘Big Trouble in Little Sanchez’ Rick Kills Himselves

At least Rick is an equal opportunities murderer. Even another version of himself isn’t exempt from his nihilistic rage. Here he gleefully smashes, drop-kicks and hacks up his own glass-encased surrogates, leaving a pile of bloodied parts strewn across the floor.

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S2, E8 ‘Interdimensional Cable 2: Tempting Fate’ Man vs Car

Another Interdimensional TV segment, another stomach churner. Literally this time.  A punkish strongman is crushed to death under the wheels of a car he’d hoped to repel, his blood and body parts thrown from the fast-spinning tyres like fireworks from a Catherine Wheel.

S2, E8 ‘Interdimensional Cable 2: Tempting Fate’ Jerrymurdering

Jerry is violently shot to death, leaving his face a drooping, lacerated, blood-dripping husk. Thankfully he’s in a technologically sophisticated futuristic hospital that presumably offers socialised healthcare.

S2, E9 ‘Look Who’s Purging Now’ Mashes to Mashes

When Rick and Morty don robo-suits and enter the Purge, expect blood. When Rick hoists a purgee off the ground and pops his head off like it was a bottle-top, sending a fountain of blood arcing into the air, it’s pretty damn disgusting – and admittedly also a bit cool – but for gruesomeness you can’t beat the sight of two people having their heads slammed together leaving a mess of pink-hued, brain-flavoured mashed potato.

S3, E1 ‘The Rickshank Rickdemption’ Pop Goes the Weasel

In the midst of some inter-dimensional Rick and Morty-based carnage, a poor Morty is crushed to death with one swift trample, as if he were nothing more than a tube of toothpaste. His dead body lies on the ground like a stuffed tiger rug, his hollow eye sockets and melon-mouth aflame with blood.

S3, E2 ‘Rickmancing the Stone’ Bad Beth

Summer flips a Mad Max-style baddy’s death-machine, maiming him horribly. He drags his torso towards her from the wreck, on a slime of entrails, pleading with her to put him out of his misery. ‘OK,’ she says, ‘But not because you told me to.’

S3, E2 ‘Rickmancing the Stone’ Give Him a Big Hand

For maximum yuk, you really can’t beat Morty smashing skulls to a pulp in a Thunderdome-inspired death arena with his beefy, vengeful and murderously sentient replacement arm.

S3, E3 ‘Pickle Rick’ Rat-a-tat-splat

I’m going to condense multiple deaths into one here, all perpetrated by that mighty, vegetable-based superhero, Pickle Rick. First, he slices off a rat’s head with a trap and harvests its bones and sinew to add limbs to his pickle body. Next, he proceeds to dispatch a whole army of rats with his makeshift power-tools in a variety of brutal and ghastly ways: pummelling brains; suspending bleeding corpses from the ceiling; cutting them into strips, and even cleaving them in two. Riotously disgusting.

S3, E3 ‘Pickle Rick’ Laser Tag

Pickle Rick’s human opponents fall just as easily – and horrifically. The best, and messiest, kill is when Pickle Rick bores a laser-shot through the heads of three of his enemies, and then proceeds to stare cockily through the tunnelled lens of charred goo like some pickle-based James Bond.

S3, E4 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ Falling Down

Speaking of Superheroes, let’s say hello and goodbye to Morty’s favourite team, The Vindicators, most of whom met a particularly savage end. First there’s Vince Maximus, who flies into a ceiling vent, and is shot to death in such a spirit of Rambo-esque overkill that his disembodied legs drop to the ground like a downed plane.

S3, E4 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ See You Later Alligator (In a Pile, Crocodile)

Then there’s Croc-u-bot, splatted into a green pulp by a springing trap.

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S3, E5 ‘Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender’ Ants in His Pants

And the perpetually angry Alan Rails, whose gullet is invaded by the shifting, morphing body of Million Ants, who first inflates him then detonates him in a riot of guts.  

S3, E5 ‘The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy’ Game Over

This one if possibly the most viscerally gruesome death in the entire show. A little girl is shot through the head by her giggling boy pal just as Rick deactivates the invincibility shield protecting everyone inside the dome from death.

S3, E5 ‘The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy’ A Bug’s Death

Another death that’s psychologically, rather than physically, gruesome. Three little bug-people sit toasting each other’s health and happiness. ‘Let’s just relax and enjoy our retirement,’ says one, as he’s snatched by a bird of prey and carried to his doom. The last thing we see of him as he’s ferried to his horrible off-screen death is the open portal of his screaming mouth.

S3, E6 ‘Rest and Ricklaxation’ Party Poopers

A furry party-entertainer and a bunch of happy young kids are engulfed in a toxicity field. An angry exchange ensues, which culminates in the brutal beating, beheading and evisceration of the entertainer. They’re also available for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

S3, E7 ‘The Ricklantis Mixup’ Morty’s Flush

Thousands of dead Rick and Mortys float eerily through space having been tossed from the airlock by a homicidal Morty.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Crystal Death Addiction

When Morty first gazes upon the death crystal we see a shimmering smorgasbord of possible deaths. If you’ve got a fast pausing-hand, or the eyes of a spider, you’ll see such memorably brutal deaths as: Morty being sucked through a spacecraft toilet and ejected into the cold, airless void of space; dropped into a nest of giant baby birds and torn asunder; decapitated by an elevator door; and even falling from a skyscraper and being whisked to death by helicopter blades.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Rick’s Crystal Maze

Rick carks it in some hellishly grizzly ways, too. He’s torn in half by Squanch, is eaten by a giant spider, has his head splattered open like a melon by a swinging log, and – in perhaps the most horrific segment – has his body churned through a rectangular aperture in a giant Play Doh maker.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ Clunk, click. Dead Rick.

Rick soon after dies for real (but not forever) in a spacecraft crash following some death-crystal-related shenanigans, smashing through the windscreen and impaling himself on a spike.

S4, E1 ‘Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat’ The Wasp Factory

Extra points for top tier body-horror gruesomeness with this one. Wasp Rick lays eggs in giant Rick’s eye, causing fast-hatching grubs to spill out from his massive mouth. Seconds later, a horde of Rick-wasps hatches en masse from his face, splitting it open like an overboiled hot-dog. Yuk!

S4, E3 ‘One Crew Over the Crewcoo’s Morty’ Treachery Will Tear Us Apart

Heist artist Miles Knightley is torn apart like a chicken dinner by a medley of bizarre alien creatures – a cross between the ghosts from The Real Ghostbusters intro sequence and something that fell out of Clive Barker’s nightmares – whose piece de resistance is yanking the skin from his wet skull like it’s a bad mask. 

Are there any particularly gruesome deaths you’d like to add to the list? Or would you like to weigh in on which of these fatalities repulsed or horrified you the most?

The post Rick and Morty’s Most Gruesome Deaths appeared first on Den of Geek.

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