#and port... yikes

[nagihonos]

id like to say touhou is the reason i discovered yuri but i know, deep deep down, it was because of naomi and seiko from corpse party.

[jasonntodd]

.

[sylvaridreams]

the lionguard doesn't want you to know that you can just take the dogs. they can't stop you.

dog in awe of being petted by a mordrem ig. dog that's seen some shit.

[videostak]

society if the atari 7800 didnt have the worst sound chip imaginable.

[gikairan]

Thought maybe I should make a start on DAI on playstation

Maybe if I just stick to the main story I could actually get somewhere in this....

And all I can say so far is.... Wow jeebus, this port is kinda rough, huh?

[lost-kestrel]

Logged in to my old Wattpad account on a whim and, in quick succession, was jumpscared by:

having 1.2k followers (where are they still coming from I did not have that many when I left)

seeing that I joined nine years ago

and, that my most popular story is getting close to 300k reads (which isn’t nearly as many as it seems due to how Wattpad tracks “reads,” but still spooky)

[a-long-furby-art]

Yikes I have been so inactive Srry guys😭 Anyway I’m so excited to start playing the port for investigations, so I drew a little franmaya for fun!!!

[c0ld0utside]

Hi! I wanted to request a script with a mermaid reader. Something like a cub that doesn't look like the others, maybe sharp teeth, maybe something else, whatever you want. + a fisherman who accidentally caught them. You don't have to write this if you don't like the concept!

No, no you're onto something! This request is PERFECT AUGH-Fisherman Dad...is something I didn’t know I needed. 

Here’s your fun fact for the day: Piranhas can bark. 

Criticism is welcome!

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Reader/MC gets hit, Blood, Reader/MC gets gagged, Reader’s/MC’s hands get bound, Reader is put in a box

Growing up in his small port town, Cannon heard stories of sea monsters and their relatives. Mermaids, Sirens, Leviathans, Serpents, Krakens…the list goes on. Now that he’s an adult, however, he knows those were just stories parents told their kids to warn and teach them. Don’t go to the beach at night, don’t swim too far out, swim with a group, wear lifejackets.

If those beasts really do exist, he wonders how they handle storms as shitty as this one. Lightning and thunder clashed overhead and the rain poured down in tubs. The waves were large and rough, going way farther than they normally did at high tide. Ah well. Cannon’s just glad his boss is sane enough to not make him and his coworkers work in that mess. 

Feeling like an old man despite being in his mid-thirties, Cannon stood up, popped his back, and headed off to bed. Hopefully, the conditions will be better by tomorrow. He doesn’t want to go to work on a rainy day.

…

…It’s raining. It’s not as bad as yesterday, but it’s raining. At least that means the catches will be good today. 

Speaking of good catches, Cannon isn’t sure if he’s hallucinating. He didn’t bring someone with him since he wasn’t going too far out, so he had no one to ask. Normally, when a fisherman pulled up their nets, they got fish. Or none at all. 

“Easy, easy…it’s alright,” Cannon says, mostly to himself. This is fine. Totally normal. Maybe this is a crazy dream and he’s going to wake up late. Cannon moves away to grab a knife and crouches back down next to the wet gremlin. “Not gonna hurt you,” He whispers, hooking the blade under the rope where it’s pressing into the fish kid’s neck. 

What Cannon has in his net is half a fish and half a kid. A fish kid. A fish kid that looks like a mess, and who is currently hissing at him like a rabid possum and snapping at the wet ropes. Snapping. Like a piranha. Are they a piranha? He can see the pearly, pointy whites from where he’s standing, holding the rope down so the net stays in the air. The creature continues to thrash and hiss and bite. 

He lowers the net and moves it onto the deck, careful to avoid the rabid little monster that is going insane. Cannon can’t blame them. If he was a little fish kid caught in a net while bruised up he’d be freaking out too. 

The brat twists their head and bites down. Letting out a startled yelp, Cannon uses his other hand to smack them and pulls away. Yikes…it’s ugly and the blood is streaming down his hand, making a mess. “I just said I wasn’t gonna hurt you, bonehead,” He grunts, using his good hand to hold their head down while he cuts them free. 

He’s caught off guard again when they push themself out of the net and start scrambling over to the edge of the ship. The kid’s tail flops around and drags as they try to get away. It hurts- Cannon can tell from the way the thing whimpers and hisses. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tuts, grabbing some of the rope and walking over to the small fry. Small fry? He’s not thinking straight. Are there major arteries in hands? Maybe he’s losing too much blood from the bite.

Grabbing onto their tail firmly with his good hand, Cannon tries to gently pull them back. ‘Small Fry’ has different ideas, because they start screeching and barking like a madman. Their mouth snaps at open air over and over as they flail around. “Hey- hey, shhh, shhh…” He tries to soothe, but it doesn’t work. 

Cannon was really hoping he wouldn’t have to do this. He doesn’t like what he’s about to do, but he has to. He shoves some of the rope into the kid’s mouth and wraps it around their head. He doesn’t make it too tight- they’re hurting enough as is. Before the kid can rake their claws- they have claws- down his arms, he grabs their hands and ties them together. 

“Sorry, Small Fry, you’re not making this easy.” 

He gets muffled snarling and barks in return. 

“Can you breathe, little buddy? Can you understand me? …No? Alright, that’s…fine.” Cannon murmurs, looking down at their tail. Oh yeah. They weren’t going to be able to swim with that. Their fin is torn and there’s an ugly cut running up the tail. Not to mention those bruises from earlier. 

“I can’t let you go just yet, Small Fry. You’re a mess, see?” Cannon says, pointing to their tail. Their gaze follows his and their glare hardens. “Don’t give me that. I’ll patch you up, alright? Now be nice.” 

With that, Cannon grabs an empty tub and dips it into the water before pulling it out and securing it onto the deck. He then walks back over to the little monster, scoops them up, and carefully lowers them inside. 

He is so glad it’s still early. Barely anyone will be on the streets. He’s also glad it’s cloudy- had it been sunny people would have seen the silhouette of a small mermaid in a closed fish container as he drives back home in his truck. 

He’ll figure this out later. Right now it’s finally settling in that he just accidentally caught a mer…maid? Merchild? Yeah. A merchild. He caught a merchild and he’s taking them home. A merchild that bit him. The bandage work on his hand is messy. He'll change it when he gets home.

And half of him doesn’t want to let them go. They’re so…reckless. It’s no wonder they got so banged up. Wait- no, maybe it was the storm. Still, they need help and they don’t understand. They don’t get to not want help. They’re getting it because he said so and he doesn’t know how mer society works, but he cares.

-

Feel like making a part two for this as well. 

You’re looking fine today! Take your vitamins!

[starlightshadowsworld]

I absolutely believe most of the Agency is on the no fly list.

Atsushi: So does the Agency ever take cases outside of Yokohama?

Kunikida: We've taken cases outside of the city in nearby areas. But as far as say, international cases are concerned we do not.

Atsushi: Oh, so if Standard Island hadn't floated to Yokohama, we wouldn't be able to take it?

Kunikida: It definitely depends on the situation and it's severity. But with that case, no it wouldn't been our job.

Dazai: Each country and region has their own version of our Agency. They'll differ in some ways but the main goal is the same.

Kunikida: nods So countries stick with their own to solve these cases. Sometimes they'll reach out but that can introduce different factors and possible risks.

Dazai: It's also a point of pride, they can risk a lot in their image by relying on others for help. You saw what it was like negotiating with the Port Mafia. Now imagine that with a whole country.

Atsushi: shudders Yikes.

Kunikida: So no the Agency doesn't take international cases unless it's truly warranted.

Which is good for us because we're far too busy and it would be a logistical nightmare. Considering most of us are on the no fly list.

Atsushi: Yeah... Wait what?!

Kunikida: My ability's deemed too much of a security risk. Along with Kenji's and Kyouka's.

Kyouka: That and I was an assassin, I'd probably be arrested.

Yosano: I can fly but I'm also wanted in, what was it like 13 countries? Along with the President so Standard Island is the closest I'll ever get to see England, Germany and France.

Kunikida: So is Katai, not like he leaves his home anyway.

Dazai: I'm not grins but not one trusts me to go alone.

Kunikida: I don't even trust you to walk to the train station alone.

Dazai: So mean Kunikida!

Yosano: If it weren't for Perfect Crime you'd be right here with us.

Dazai: Ah, semantics.

Ranpo: I'm not supposed to fly either, but they can just try and stop me.

Atsushi:... I want to be suprised but I'm really not. Hmm, with my bounty, would I also be on the no fly list?

Dazai: Huh, I didn't think of that you could be. Depending on if it was wide spread or not, you could be wanted in a bunch of countries.

Atsushi:... Maybe we should just stay here in Yokohama.

Kunikida: A wise decision.

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 5)

Josh/Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, slight angst, etc

Sleep doesn’t plan on dropping in to visit you tonight, that much is clear. Still, it doesn’t stop you from staring up at the ceiling, longing for it.

If you could just quiet the storm inside your head, if only for a moment or two, you might be able to drift away.

All hope is lost completely when your phone begins to vibrate on the night stand beside you. It crosses your mind to ignore it, but no one calls at this hour for no good reason.

With an exasperated sigh, you roll to your side and grab it up.

“Perfect.” You mutter upon seeing Jake’s name displayed on the screen. Yet another facet stepping up to complicate this shit show of a night even further.

“This better be good.” 3 am phone calls don’t lend themselves to a proper greeting in your book.

“Well, hello to you, too, pretty girl.” He laughs, clearly bright eyed and full of piss and vinegar.

“I’m sleeping, Jacob.” You huff, flopping onto your back once again.

He calls your bluff. Of course he does. “No you’re not. You sound wide awake, and I need someone to keep me company.”

“No pretty young thing to follow you home from your gig tonight?” You ask, though you certainly don’t actually want to know.

He makes a sound in the negative, and then adds, “But if I get really hard up, I can just pop my head out the door and flag down one of the hookers that are loitering around this shit hole of a motel.”

“That bad?”

“I’ll put it this way,” he breathes a wisp of a laugh, “If I were to look under the bed and find a dead body, I wouldn’t be shocked. Not even a little bit.”

“Yikes.” You genuinely feel for him. Hotels and their germs freak you out as it is, you can’t fathom being expected to sleep in an establishment as fine as the one he’s describing.

“Make sure you check for bed bugs before you go to sleep.” It breaks your heart to think of him slumbering fitfully while tiny monsters feast away.

“You think I’m going anywhere near that bed?” He sounds offended, but you know better. “I’m sleeping in the fucking bathtub. I wish you were here, though.”

“So, you’d have me suffer through a night in hotel hell just so you’d have someone to keep you company? Narcissist.”

That halting laugh of his, the one you’re completely smitten with, makes an appearance, but his reply comes gently. “No. There’s just something about the thought of seeing something so beautiful surrounded by all this ugliness…I don’t know.”

That, you hadn’t expected.

He glosses over his honesty and begins telling you about the bar he’s playing. About how it used to be a speakeasy. How there are still scattered bullet holes in the walls from a raid. Al Capone once visited, he tells you animatedly, and broke a bartender's nose for speaking without respect…

On and on he prattles, and you let him, paying close attention to his every word. This isn’t your first time being ‘Jaked’ in the middle of the night.

And if you’re being honest, maybe your attentiveness has more to do with the fact that you miss him already. It’s good to hear his voice, that calming, soft rasp. His idiosyncratic tendencies - ‘you know’ as a place filler as he gathers his thoughts, interesting, suppose, it’s all so jake, and it makes you feel safe in the strangest way.

You ask questions in all the right places, not enough to interrupt, but just enough to encourage the stream of thoughts he has decided to share with you.

That is, until he catches on. “Are we whispering because it’s late, or because you’re at my brother’s?”

You pluck at the blanket thrown over you, chagrined. A child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “He was out of sorts with you gone, so I stayed. You know how he gets.”

“I get that way, too.” He points out softly. “Who babies me?”

You shrug, though he can’t see you “A girl in every port?”

“Would you stop with that?” He suddenly sounds sad, and it’s so unlike him you’re shocked into momentary silence.

It stretches on for a while, with you now staring at the wall as the tree outside lends the shadows of its leaves to dance and flutter in the night. And Jake, cooped up in some depressing, filthy room god knows where, breathing in stagnant air and mold spores.

He slices through it first, “Hey, poppins?”

“Hmm?” How easily can make your heart ache and pound without effort. They both can.

“Do you miss me?”

The hopefulness in his query makes you smile. He sounds almost…vulnerable?

“I do, Jake. I always miss you when you go away.”

A discreet hum of satisfaction is his only reply before the quiet returns. Then…

“Why are you at my brother’s, babe? Is this a ‘when the cats away the mice will play’ situation?”

Why is he always so calm and collected? Tipping his hand just enough to stoke the flames of your curiosity. And why is it so sexy?

“Are you the cat?” You ask softly, avoiding his actual question.

He sees your bet and raises the stakes “Are you two the mice?”

Still unwilling to hand over your secrets, you ask a question of your own. “What is this? You both really do get off on the competition of it all, don’t you? Is there a scorecard hidden away somewhere? Because I —“

“Hey,” he soothes, voice comforting like a warm, much loved quilt. “There’s no scorecard. We actually have a scoreboard. It lights up and everything. Cost a shit load.”

He successfully tugs a giggle out of you, plucking the thorn out of your side effortlessly. Seconds later, however, you’re right back where you started.

“Why, then? Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in sibling rivalry crossfire. Like I’m constantly ducking and dodging Kiszka bullets.”

“No such thing.” He’s trying his best to lighten things up. “We Kiszkas are noble and peaceful people.”

He desperately would like to be let off the hook… instead, you keep him dangling on the line. “I’m serious.”

At last, he gives in. “Alright, alright. The thing is, you can’t really blame us. Sometimes it’s unavoidable and that’s just science.”

“Science.” You repeat, unimpressed.

“Yes. Science. Identical twins, such as myself and my lesser half, share nearly indistinguishable brain wave patterns, and —“

“Jesus, do you two carry around some big book of twin factoids everywhere you go?”

Brushing your flippancy aside without comment, he continues on. “So, shared brain waves and 99.9% identical DNA means we view the world around us in much the same way. That’s why you hear those crazy stories about separated twins finding each other later only to discover they’ve been living parallel lives. Essentially, we’re the same person.”

“Is this where I come in?” You ask, trying hard to conceal the fascination hiding behind your nonchalance.

“Possibly.” In your mind's eye, you picture his fingers running over his lips in a gentle pinching motion. An endearing habit of his when he’s feeling contemplative. “But, sometimes I think it has very little to do with all of that. Sometimes I think it’s just you.”

“Me?’

“You’re the lighthouse, poppins…” his voice is soft and thoughtful. “And he and I are the ships. Question is, who will run ashore first?”

“Something happened between Josh and I tonight.” You confess. “And I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you. I just felt like you should know.”

“Doesn’t that make you think?” He questions, backing you into an invisible corner.

“Doesn’t what make me think?”

“The fact that you felt the need to tell me. It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

You’re not sure what to say to that, so you choose the easiest path and say nothing at all.

“Jealousy isn’t a character flaw I struggle with. Never has been.” You listen to the creaking groan of the likely cheap and worn chair he is repositioning himself in. “Territorial? I’ll own that, but almost never with Josh. So you have your fun, love. Get him out of your system. You and I both know which ship your light shines a little brighter for.”

He ends the call with little room for argument on your part. You consider calling him back to tell him he’s wrong (is he wrong?). Instead, you slip out of bed and pad down the hall towards Josh’s room, light and hushed on your feet.

~

Josh is dreaming of you. Lost in turquoise waters that lull him deeper and deeper, down down down. You’re everywhere. Your voice, echoing and purring with the delicate current. He is tangled in your silken hair. It glows in otherworldly shades of bioluminescent purple and he longs to touch it, but each lock dissolves into blinding glitter the moment he reaches for it. Closer to the floor of your sea he drifts, as your soft moans grow louder, accompanied by the alien mournful song of whales calling to one another, his unconscious world shifts…

Now you lie beneath him, twisted in wrinkled sheets, clinging to him as he rocks into you deeply. Your nails sting as they bite into and drag across his back and he hopes it burns forever. He likes it better here. Bathing in your ocean was bliss, but here he can touch your face. Here he can search your eyes for their secrets and taste your skin. He can hear the desire thrumming in your hummingbird heart. Here you are his.

He always thinks you’re beautiful, but like this, you are celestial. A supernova captured in his arms.

You call his name, but your eyes are cast over his shoulder. He knows without question who has come to dismantle his perfect world.

“Tell him to go.”

You shake your head languidly with a Mona Lisa smile, “I’d like him to stay.”

Squeezing around him just right, you run your fingertip down the bridge of his nose…

…and he startles awake with a curse.

~

His door isn’t closed, but merely pushed to…still, you lift a loose fist to knock lightly. A faint moan in the dark stops you.

It’s a tranquil sound, one you might expect to enjoy while caught up in slow and easy early morning sex. And while it isn’t overtly obscene, it steals the air from your lungs all the same.

He’s sleeping, your eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to know that, but he breathes another sigh into the air, and then…your name.

Can a sound be poetic? Can inflection be art? Because that is the only way to describe the way your name sounds on his tongue.

He’s dreaming…and whatever world he has faded into holds some version of you inside of it as well. What is going on inside that brilliant, beautiful mind of yours, Joshua?

This is wrong. You should go back to bed and pretend this never happened…but the angel on your shoulder has taken the night off, leaving the shameless devil in charge, plotting nefariously.

A harsh hiss of “Fuck!” bites out of him, startling you. He sounds frustrated and furious. He is awake, and very unhappy about it.

Standing still as a statue, you wonder ridiculously if he can hear the wild beat of your heart.

Knock now, you think. Pretend you’ve just arrived at his door. For the second time, you raise your hand to knock, and for the second time, you stop in your tracks when you see it.

His hand slips beneath the sheets as a shutter of pleasure ripples out of his chest. It’s no more than a strangled gasp, but your body explodes into heated pins and needles.

The drag of his fist against the linens keeps time with the airy moans he is panting into the night. It’s fucking intoxicating and you so badly want to go to him.

Instead, you back slowly away from the crack into the door, retreating further back in the hall. You’ll slink back to bed and it’ll be like this never even happened —

A floorboard creaks. An inanimate object groaning to tattle tale and shine a spotlight on your presence.

He stops instantly as you clamp your eyes shut tightly for a split second…if I can’t see you, you can’t see me mentality.

And while you pray with your whole soul to disappear like smoke in the air, he rises, tucks himself back into his sweats, and confidently closes the space between the two of you.

Before you can process, his fingers lace around your wrist and pull you into the room. Your body is pressed against the door, his breath warm on your neck as he reaches behind you to twist the lock.

A single finger traces along your cheek before tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Were you watching me?”

“I…” You stammer, guilty as sin. “I was just getting ready to knock and…”

His hand slides between your legs to tease his fingers over soaked cotton. “Oh,” he tilts his head, smug and pleased with his discovery. “Someone was enjoying the show. My sweet little thing has ruined her pretty panties.”

He finds your clit and presses against it, remaining still, taunting you with the delicious pressure of his touch. “Do you like to watch?”

You nod, the shame of being caught slowly seeping from your veins.

“Yeah?” He slips into your panties from the side and teases two fingers inside you, curling upward until your thighs are shaking. “You wanna watch me cum?”

A whine of desire trembles out of you, telling him all he needs to know.

His fucks his fingers into you just a hint faster. Building you up nice and easy, creating a heavenly push and pull that you never want to end. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’m far too in love with this soft little cunt of yours right now. Pink as cotton candy and just as sweet.”

Your hands are fisted into the shoulders of his worn out t shirt, steadying yourself as your hips rock to meet him.

“Jake called.” The words leave you as barely a whisper.

“Did he?” There is a conversational edge to his cadence. As though you might be discussing the weather while you clench and drip into the palm of his hand. “Missing you already?”

“I don’t know, he— oh, fuck…right there.”

“Right there?” You catch a glimpse of the cocky smirk playing over his lips in the dark. “I'll touch you right there, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you. Just relax and let me.”

Your back arches away from the door to bring your body nearer to his. You want him pressed against you, skin to skin. You want to melt into him and live there forever, surrounded by his warm light.

“You look so fucking pretty in this light.” The moon is filtering in through the window, cool and blue. You think of winter, and he mirrors your thoughts. “Like a snow angel.”

Your hand delves beneath his waistband of his tattered sweats. A chill races up his spine when you wrap your soft hand around him. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want…good girl.”

You coil and quiver around his fingers, giving yourself away.

“You like that?” He nips his perfect teeth into your bottom lip. “You want to be my good girl? A perfect princess to make my cock hard and my heart ache?’

Tightening your grip, you stroke him faster, earning a groan, long and low, deep within his chest as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge with just his hand.

“Josh, please,” the air feels charged, the way it does just before a vicious summer storm unleashes. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he rocks into your hand a little faster to catch up with you. ‘Not until I have what’s mine. Let go for me. Show me how beautiful you look when you cum.”

With another practiced twist of his hand, he drags you under, free hand covering your mouth to quiet your cries, though he wishes he could let you scream until you were hoarse and spent.

He chases after you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own cries as he spills over your hand, tiny rivers of warmth that tickle your skin until your eyes flutter closed to savor the feeling.

It’s peaceful for a stretch, but when the words come, you don’t swallow them down like maybe you should. You speak them into existence like maybe you shouldn’t.

“He says you’re in love with me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek, light as the softest feather. “I am.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @paleshadow-ofadragon @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

[strqyr]

Hi question about a litter thing I've noticed as a reasoning for the tai has always been a terrible parent, and wanted to get your opinions on ot

People tend to use the line in v4 where tai uses the lose of braincells/arm comparison he uses towards yang within the argument he has with yang and how the comment visibly shows to hurt yang.

I myself feel a bit icky about the comment itself, but I always looked at as a spure of the moment comment something tai didn't really mean but accidentally let slip during the minor confrontation, as I have had moments myself like that with my own mother where we've been arguing and she's said something hurtful without meaning too, she alwasy apolgised for it later.

Anyway, tangent aside, what are your opinions? (You don't have to answer if you dont want too)

to me, it's just how this family speaks; not pulling any punches or speaking like they're professional therapists. it's hardly any different to yang's "yikes! meltdown already?", or qrow's "so either you're lying or you're crazy" while smirking, or ruby playfully mocking how "dumb" yang sounds in terms of sensitiveness.

i honestly don't even think the comment hurt yang bc... that's not what her face conveys—and if it had, i'd expect the writers to have addressed it in the moment as yang is not one to hide her emotions. there's just shock which then fairly quickly turns into a smile and laughter, yang playfully punching tai (like she did ruby in beyond) and calling him a jerk, tai joining her in laughter.

and when oobleck whispers "are we finally talking about the goliath in the room?", yang and tai dumbfoundedly look at each other before bursting into laughter again.

it's "breaking the ice" moment. everyone keeps talking about yang getting back to normal, but she has a new normal now; there's no going back to the old, and change like that is always scary. it's also much, much scarier when no one seems to be willing to talk about, walking on eggshells around her like, waiting for the "right" time to talk about "the goliath in the room."

there's a wall between yang and everyone else, and tai's comment breaks right through it like a sledgehammer. more importantly, it gets yang to laugh again. after who knows how many months—winter has certainly come and gone—, yang is laughing when her first scene in the volume made it seem like a thing in a far, far future.

could the topic have been approached in different way? sure. but you gotta also remember that yang doesn't like to be coddled, treated like she's some fragile thing about to break at any moment. and considering her reaction to the prosthetic arm, i doubt she would have brought it up herself; oobleck and port certainly wouldn't have, treating it as the goliath in the room.

so what you could have very easily ended up with is the situation getting nowhere; yang with a new normal that no one else is willing to acknowledge. yet, with one single comment, tai brings the old normal—as per the way this family talks to each other—to the new, and it opens the floor for further conversation.

frankly, it's one of the main things i love about this very fictional, "no real feelings were hurt" family: they're very, very blunt at times. there's no therapy speak that makes them sound like wooden dolls, they feel real; the kind that's saying the first thing that comes to mind, no filter, giving and receiving punches in same amount.

[deaths-presence]

Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 2: Don't Look Back

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 1,622 Characters Featured: Nathaniel Hawthorne, Margaret Mitchell, small ADA assembly, small Port Mafia assembly Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, hints of Fitzgerald being Yikes and abusive, usual Port Mafia violence, lmk if I happened to miss anything please

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day you discovered that the Guild had arrived in Yokohama. You were still waking up from a horrible slumber when Hawthorne came to escort you out of your room. You pushed through your fatigue to get dressed, your fingers dancing over the China blue tulle that was decorated in beautiful pink flower embroidery. The dress was comfortable and easy to put on, hugging the top half of your body perfectly while the rest flowed out without being too high maintenance to walk in. You hastily put your hair up in a ponytail after brushing it before meeting Hawthorne at your door.

You politely walked side-by-side with him after he closed the door behind you. The silence between the two of you was comfortable, but you could recognize the feeling that surrounded you. Something was going to happen today, and the thought alone made the anxiety swell in your chest. It didn’t seem like it was just to have a meeting with Fitzgerald either. No, not with the prospect of reaching Yokohama.

“We are to be leaving the Moby Dick and making headquarters on land,” Hawthorne spoke quietly as if reading your mind. His eyes did not move to look at you. Everything in his expression told you that there was a storm brewing on the horizon. You didn’t quite know what Fitzgerald’s plan was, but he was never simple and respectful with obstacles in his way.

“I am to understand that there is something Lord Francis wants in this city?” You grimaced, the name poison on your tongue.

“He went to negotiate with one of the local organizations yesterday,” Hawthorne replied.

“It did not go well. Not like his other business deals that money manages to fix.”

You swore you caught a flicker of a smirk on his face. If so, it disappeared as quickly as it was shown. On your way to presumably meet with Fitzgerald, you gradually ran into more Guild members that followed behind you and Hawthorne. Your eyes catch the mint ballgown from Lady Margaret, looking refined and proper as always; Lucy with her two thick braids of red hair that bounced with each turn of her head; Melville, who was a quiet old soul that you had only caught glimpses of since being with the Guild. Even Twain with his shirt barely covering his chest would be joining you today.

Your eyes caught sight of the door you had come to loathe throughout your forced stay. It was the door where Fitzgerald spent most of his time when he had to be behind a desk, but for you it was a reminder of the physical abuse; the items thrown at you and demands to change into the person they belonged to; the hands around your throat whenever you refused to push yourself further; the threats of finding your brother and capturing him in order to make you cooperate. Fitzgerald wasn’t afraid to show his true colors. His behavior was what had gotten him so far.

You weren’t aware of the way your body was involuntarily shaking until Lady Margaret made a haughty, discontented noise. You always felt so small in her presence, especially when she turned up her nose. “Heavens to Betsy, are you gonna do that the entire time we’re here?”

Many people would rise to the occasion and become snarky in response, but you knew how Margaret could be. She came across as arrogant whether you were a highly respected colleague or low on the totem pole in the Guild. You had to admire her diligence and the way she carried herself, an air of confidence constantly around her. If she ordered something to be done, it was completed with no questions asked. It is a personality trait you wish you had more of.

You took a deep breath before slowly exhaling, some of your shaking moderately disappearing by momentarily escaping your train of thought. You offered Margaret a small smile. “I apologize, Lady Margaret. I know it can be quite distracting.”

Your words soothed her apparent irritation, seeming to approve of your apology. You both entered once the door was opened by James, the rest of the Guild filing in behind you. All eyes were on their leader that had been waiting behind the door. Though you would’ve loved to keep your body from shaking, Fitzgerald’s eyes on you were enough to destroy the momentary walls of protection you gave yourself.

“Good, the remainder of you are here,” Fitzgerald started with his usual cocky smirk, threading his fingers together and leaning forward on his desk. “We need to begin groundwork in Yokohama. Seeing as this is hardly a good proposition for central headquarters, I will be sending a couple of you to prepare the Zelda to become the head of this operation.”

Hawthorne was correct before, then. You had no doubts about the religious man after how well he had treated you so far, but it allowed you to realize that Fitzgerald must have already made his decision of who he was sending if Hawthorne knew about it.

“Margaret and Nathaniel, I entrust the Zelda to you, along with our dear new friend.” Fitzgerald’s grin brought thoughts of jumping off the Moby Dick, but you didn’t linger on the thought long before he spoke again. “The rest of you will be divided on making moves on the Detective Agency and the Port Mafia. I already have John and Lovecraft down there as we speak.”

Not a word was said. Not even a nod of acknowledgement was seen. The sound of feet shuffling to follow orders was the only thing heard, and you soon found yourself standing between Hawthorne and Lady Margaret afterwards. You were to depart with them and the others before going your own way to fulfill Fitzgerald’s wishes. There was no need to pack anything, as your belongings would be brought to the Zelda. Half of you was screaming for joy that you would be kept elsewhere, but you knew that you would still be suffering surveillance. You had observed Hawthorne and Lady Margaret long enough to know you could not escape them if you wanted to.

Your chest was mixed with several emotions as you prepared for leaving the Moby Dick.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You didn’t expect to be involved in a fight so soon, but it just so happened that you and the other Guild members landed into a match between the Armed Detective Agency and the ruthless Port Mafia. The several eyes trained on you in shock made you want to squirm, but you only stood quietly. You noted the addition of Steinbeck and Lovecraft to your group now.

“Really? Fire!”

The woman in the pink kimono brought you out of your uncomfortable disposition, your body reacting before your brain as the gunfire reached you. The fountain behind you made your decision, activating your ability and taking on the appearance of a woman you had managed to touch in passing per Fitzgerald’s request. It didn’t take much focus since it had become a default one for you, and within seconds the men firing at you were wiped out by a wave of water that knocked them off their feet. The power of water manipulation was one of the strongest you had in your mental closet of appearance changes.

Your natural hair color was now replaced by dark, blue-toned hair that was almost black, and your eyes were now a striking ocean blue as they surveyed the rest of the area. The people who you considered colleagues despite the circumstances had already started making their own moves of attack. You continued your defensive tactic, even knocking some of the guns out of their hands before your eyes caught sight of brilliant colors that stunned you.

His eyes reminded you of watching the sunset back in the countryside where you came from, the long summer nights where the sky would turn yellow, orange, and purple before bringing forth a pitch-black sky littered with stars. You couldn’t help but stare at the boy, and despite him already sustaining injuries from before, he paused at your own hesitation. Neither of you dared move until Hawthorne broke your connection with his own ambush. You tried to hide the gasp that escaped from your lips as the boy with white choppy hair spat blood, the new injury rendering him to his knees.

The shock was enough for you to lose your shapeshifted appearance, returning to your normal one as you watched the boy collapse. You realized with dread that he wasn’t much younger than you, and you nearly knelt to help him before Hawthorne quickly stepped in your way. Those cold icy eyes of his pierced into you as they always did, but this time they felt like a warning.

“We have our own duties. Let us go.”

You were quiet before stiffly nodding in agreement, though as you started to walk away you looked back towards the boy that had given you a slice of mercy in exchange for his own life. You tore your eyes away to look at the rest of the scene. Your colleagues had swiftly left them bleeding and injured, your gaze hovering over the blonde your age with blood on his tan attire and glasses that were askew; then to the blonde who was lifeless and appeared even younger than the boy you had faced. Your stomach twisted and turned at the bodies.The Guild is not necessarily a nice organization. You do what you’re told, and that’s it. Take care to remember that if nothing else. Steinbeck’s words from yesterday rang through your head while you robotically followed Hawthorne and Lady Margaret to prepare for the Zelda.

[dandylovesturtles]

This is 2AL Propaganda

I bring you propaganda for the @rottmntpeepawpolls advocating for 2 Arms Left Leo by @intotheelliwoods in the form of another fanfic drabble! Please go check out their comic series, it is extremely good. And vote for 2AL Leo in the poll tomorrow!!

(Also Ell I'm sorry if I get f!Leo and p!Donnie's relationship wrong I TRIED

ALSO I PROMISE THIS ISN'T ANGST

also also this is set still somewhat early in his recovery time OK NOTES OVER)

...

"I can feel you lurking."

Leonardo looks up from his phone and locks eyes with Donnie, currently peeking through the crack in the curtain to his train car. He disappears from view and a moment later waltzes his way inside like he hadn't just been hiding.

"I have a question for you," he announces.

Leo sits up and drops his legs over the edge of the bed. "Shoot."

Donnie hesitates. He looks anxious, and Leo tenses in anticipation.

"It's about your timeline."

Leo's heart drops.

He'd known this would come eventually, but he'd been hoping it would be later rather than sooner. Of course they would want to know eventually, though. What happened to them. How things in his time had... ended.

He just isn't prepared for it. He isn't sure if Donnie is prepared for it, either. He's still so young. Should he really be hearing this now? What kind of damage does that cause on a young mind?

His mouth is draw when he says, "What's your question?" He scrambles to prepare answer, some way to put it off, or maybe to soften the blow, or-

"Did you still have the Lair Games in the future?"

-gape at Donnie like a fish because what?

"What?"

"Did you still have the Lair Games in the future?" Donnie repeats, a little louder as though that were the issue here.

"...We were a little busy with the whole alien apocalypse situation."

"Scoff." Donnie waves a hand. "As if a little apocalypse could stop this family from being competitive."

He has him there. Leo can't help but snort in amusement. "You're right. But it was less formal and more like... bragging about how many Krang hounds we could kill."

"Ah, I see... Well, we're lacking in those, so... goodbye."

He turns on his heel to leave.

"Hey, wait wait wait! Why the sudden interest?"

Donnie turns back around. He still looks anxious, but now Leo realizes it's more embarrassed than upset like he initially thought.

"Well, as you know, I am the current champion of the Lair Games."

"Heh, as if you'd let me forget."

"And I'm very eager to defend my title! And especially after his-slash-your nefarious tricks last time, I'm ready to grind Nardo to dust." He rubs his palms together with an unhinged glee, and Leo winces internally. Yikes. "But..." and there he stops, "Leo seems... reluctant to participate. We did not design the events with... one of us missing a limb in mind."

Ah, right. Hard to do a Handstand Hillbomb with only one arm. Even if they put things off until Leo's port and prosthetic were ready, he probably still wouldn't be experienced enough with it to do anything too taxing.

Leo could already imagine his younger counterpart had waved it off with a smile and a, "You guys have fun," and, "I'll be cheering for you." He would swing by his room later to check on him; for now he had another kid to deal with.

"So that's why you came to me?"

"I was hoping you might have some ideas for alternative events."

"Hmmm... I might be able to think of some." He grins. "On one condition."

Donnie looks wary. "What?"

"I get to play, too."

"What, so you can twist both my ankles this time!?" Donnie shakes his head. "Oh no. One of you is enough."

"Come on! It'll be fun."

"Doubt! And besides, the bylaws state that we can't add anyone to the competition."

"Ah-ah." He waves a finger. "The bylaws state that the competition is between Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, and..." He trails off, putting a hand on his plastron with a smirk.

Donnie's eyebrows are furrowed so hard they're at risk of smudging. "...You have out loopholed me, sir."

"Don't worry, I'll give you guys-"

"Do not."

"-a handicap."

"Groan! Why didn't I send Mikey to do this instead?"

"'Cause you love me." Leo gets up from the bed, walks over and catches Donnie in an affectionate headlock before he can flee. "Alright. Let's get brainstorming!"

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

What kind of character development do you think Tanizaki could get?

Oooooo ok so other people have answered this far better than me but - have you seen any of those theories that Naomi is a creation of Light Snow and that the real Naomi has died? That Tanizaki may be selected to join the Port Mafia? That he may have been recruited by the Agency to stop him from showing up on the Mafia's radar?

I recommend looking through @tachiguin's blog for Tanizaki stuff; the analyses are supplemented by information and references to the real life Tanizaki-sensei's works and definitely worth a read if you're curious about him!

But really... Tanizaki has to get some kind of focus at some point. We know so little about him compared to the rest of the Agency. He's still a big question mark despite appearing at the very beginning. And... there's something really off about him.

His narration in the first part of Untold Origins has him basically repeating over and over what a normal guy he is. He does not remember his entrance exam because he blocked it out. He is one of the most comfortable with killing. His eyes go darker and more unstable than anyone in the Agency (even some in the Mafia). He cares little for morality if Naomi is in danger ("world-burn" anyone?) and in Beast, he is supportive of Akutagawa killing the people who took Gin, which shocks even Naomi herself. He puts his ability down as not useful in combat, only for it to repeatedly be shown to be invaluable for assassination. Ayatsuji, in a side story, considered him suspicious enough to capture and tie up (this was more for comedy... but still). Asagiri mentioned that he considers Tanizaki to be the member of the Agency that is "closest to evil". ...yikes.

Anyways, I definitely think we're setting up to reveal something about him. He's been there since the beginning, and even minor characters we thought we probably wouldn't get much elaboration on or would play a major role (Tachihara, for instance) did eventually get some background. The only characters in the Agency we really know nothing about are Tanizaki and Kunikida, though at least with Kunikida we have the Azure Messenger backstory... with Tanizaki we have literally nothing. I'm sure that's not unintentional.

Personally, I am hoping that whatever ends up happening, that we get more Naomi focus too, since she's actually so so cool. There's a post here about how Naomi actually has an inner voice and a definite consciousness, which has some fascinating implications for Light Snow if she really is a created construct. There's also her quick thinking (she's canonically very clever), and the fact that she has picked up little tricks and some strategic thinking from observing Dazai (someone on here brought up the possibility of her learning to do the handcuff snap he does and I have not known peace since. I need to see her do that so bad). She's also apparently something of a trusted figure for Fukuzawa and comfortable going and getting him when the Agency is waffling over whether or not to save Atsushi. She's openly annoyed by Fitzgerald which is really funny. Naomi is also super protective of Tanizaki and Haruno, she's sweet to Kyouka and playfully teasing yet supportive of Atsushi. If we ever get a focus on Tanizaki, I need that focus to split between the both of them. There's foundations to do some fascinating storytelling with each of these characters!

[coachbeards]

no but the way that the show treated beard's repeated drug use as another "oh he's just so wild and quirky 🤪" joke instead of the self-medication and self-harm it actually was....

beard being high during a match because he accidentally consumed drugs he wasn't aware were out..............that's not funny. being a drug addict, getting high without being aware you consumed drugs in the first place must've been genuinely terrifying. while high on shrooms, the best thing you can be is calm and relaxed...beard had to go to work. he had to pretend to be okay. he couldn't let anyone see, since his literal career would be at stake if it was discovered. dealing with the anxiety of an unexpected high (one you can kind of see beard blame himself for. "i drank tea from the wrong pot." instead of framing it like jane left it out and he didn't know. he framed it like it was his fault. and "it won't happen again." again, like it's his own fault) that's not funny. that's not a little haha beard you're so wild <3 especially since two episodes prior, ted was having a panic attack during a match, and all the characters treated that with way more sensitivity than beard's situation. even ted, the one who is aware that beard's life was almost ruined my drugs, just made a joke about it.

making jokes that implies beard routinely gets high with their bus driver.... that's not good, y'all! smoking toad venom with the bus driver??? and ted brushing it off too and the show treating it like a joke? the bus driver also being revealed to be beard's drug dealer being framed as nothing more than just a quirky beard thing. can i just say i hate how much they refused to delve into beard under the excuse that he's just enigmatic and quirky? yeah.

in sunflowers, beard refers to shrooms as his medicine. and yes, meth + shrooms aren't exactly in the same ballpark. but if i heard my best friend, whose life was ruined by drugs to the point where i had to rescue him and nurse him back to health, said that he took shrooms as a self-medication tactic, i'd be a touch concerned. but since they never framed it as an issue, despite beard's backstory (and brendan had headcanoned drug addict beard from the beginning, so it's not like it just was put into the plot for the sake of mom city,) ted didn't make a big deal out of it. he was seemingly fine with beard's drug use, and even agreed to do drugs with him.

but also........................a man devoted to not only ted, but to the team........i just don't think he'd be soooo casual about taking several illicit substances and he wouldn't do it all willy nilly.

especially considering nate leaking ted's panic attacks to the press (which......not that beard was ever nate's target, but he could've easily leaked beard being high, too. which...again. would've tanked his career), beard wouldn't be doing drugs with the bus driver or traveling with illegal substances on a team related event. he'd be aware that his actions have consequences, clearly given his prison record, and i just don't think he'd be so......open and uncaring. beard was guilted by being high during a match to the point where he had to come clean, as it was something eating him alive.

if beard's drug addiction was revealed, especially the port vale match or using the bus driver as a drug dealer or carrying illegal substances on team trips..........it wouldn't just be his reputation and job at stake. it could ruin ted's career, having been aware of his criminal record and his repeated drug use and didn't do anything about it. it could create damage for rebecca, for employing a man without carefully combing through his records (drugs are..............obviously very frowned up in society in general, but within the sports world? yikes.). the team would face struggles as well. beard wouldn't risk any of that. but not only would he not risk it, he wouldn't do it so openly and freely in the first place.

i do not care that brendan waved it away with the excuse that meth and shrooms aren't the same thing. a recovering drug addict using drugs to canonically self-medicate isn't exactly a good thing. beard has substance use disorder, and i wish it was treated better within the show, by the other characters, and by the writers.

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s3 ep21: Before and After

Ah, the one where Kes travels through the extremely cursed future timeline. I have a hard time forming an objective opinion about it's merits as an episode, because I'm just like 'nope! do not want!!' the whole time. But godawful cursed timeline aside, there were a few nice things in it here and there that saved it from being totally awful.

For one thing, it's nice to get a Kes episode that isn't about some old man being creepily obsessed with her, so that's a win right there. (The bar is so fucking low, lmao). Jennifer Lien does a terrific job as an elderly version of Kes, especially considering she was only 20 or 21 at the time. She's very believable, and the makeup was pretty good too. But everything else about the future timeline she experiences is just like, what??

First of all, the Doctor randomly has hair in the future?? Okay. But tbh, having him keep choosing names for himself like Mozart and Van Gogh is actually hilariously on brand given the Doctor's penchant for self-aggrandisement.

Then we meet Kes's future family, which is a whole other level of yikes. She's married to Tom (I thought they finally let that die, jfc!!) and they have a daughter, who's married to Harry, and they have a son. I know the Ocampa nine year lifespan is kind of an extenuating circumstance, but still, marrying your best friend's kid is just weird!! It's gross!! Do not want!! I love Tom and Harry's friendship so much, don't make it weird like that!!

We find out Neelix becomes a security officer, which is, yet again, wtf?? Neelix has no expertise that would suit him to that, and more importantly, Tuvok can't stand him. Stop forcing them together!! It's yet again weird and gross how they will not let them just agree to be acquaintances. Stop forcing them to be best friends when Tuvok clearly doesn't want it!!

Worst of all, we find out that Chakotay is the captain, because Captain Janeway and B'Elanna both died during an attack by the Krenim during the year of hell. Wow, no thank you!! cursed timeline cursed timeline cursed timeline!!!! It felt so weird and empty not having them there for most of the episode. Please let us out of this nightmare!!

At the very least, they conceded that B'Elanna would have to die for Tom to look at anyone else. Tom is certainly one of the least objectionable suitors they've ever thrown at Kes, since he's a good person, who's somewhat close to her in age, but I'm just tired of Kes being given romantic subplots every single episode. Plus, after they finally stopped giving Tom shallow crushes and let him really fall for B'Elanna, it feels really weird and wrong to go back to a pairing from his shallow crush era.

It's hard to not look at the whole thing through my shipper glasses, since I'm Team Paris/Torres for life, but I can still appreciate the idea that in any timeline, Tom is 100% a wife guy. Tom actually had a lot to do in this one, and a lot of really sweet scenes of just being a super devoted husband. While he and Kes have no romantic chemistry at all, and make the absolute blandest, most boring couple I've ever seen, it still tracks that Tom would always devote himself to being a good husband and dad, even though his relationship with Kes here has an undertone of being a desperate 'any port in a storm' situation. (He's totally still not over B'Elanna here- it's years later, and he's married to someone else, with a kid, and he still gets super emotional talking about her. She's the love of his life in every timeline!! Fight me!!)

There's several nice little moments here and there- Tom and Kes's cursed timeline daughter Linnis talking about how her husband Harry is so good with their baby son, and sings to him all the time (awww!), and Neelix affectionately calling Kes 'Kessie' at one point. (I'm 100% here for Kes and Neelix staying friends. I didn't like them romantically, but I thought they had a sweet chemistry when they let Neelix actually be nice to her. And the idea that ending a romance doesn't have to end a friendship is so important to show.) Also, I noticed Harry had two pips in the future scenes! Which tracks tbh- Chakotay would promote him if he were captain, because unlike Janeway, he doesn't think of Harry as a precious baby son who's never allowed to grow up, lol.

Some very un-nice moments were Tom and Chakotay having to see B'Elanna and Janeway die in front of them (trying to give all the shippers angst today, are we?), and Tom being there for his fake daughter's birth, while knowing in retrospect that he doesn't get to be with B'Elanna during his real daughter's birth later on. (I know, flying Voyager home was important, but it absolutely rips my heart out that he didn't get to have that.)

While this episode, yet again, reminds me of the Next Gen episode 'Future Imperfect', with a crewmember waking up to a future timeline and a family they don't remember, it was different enough that I wouldn't quite call it a rip off of that. Kes's shifting backwards in time through her life reminded me a lot of Picard's time-shifting in 'All Good Things' though, even though the situations were different, but this is nowhere near as good a story as that was. It was at least well paced, and never boring. While I personally didn't enjoy most of the choices made in this episode, at the very least, it all got reversed in the end when they shifted Kes back to her rightful place in the timeline.

The scene at the end, with everyone on the holodeck together having a little party, was very cute, and we see Kes wearing her new longer hairstyle from here on out. (I can't help but feel like they were trying to make her more attractive to the guys in the audience with the longer hair, but at least she's in a regular dress this time, and not a catsuit or a little jumper dress.)

While I liked that we got a scene of Kes heroically climbing through a jeffries tube to get a reading on an unexploded torpedo, and that she became a doctor in the future timeline (yes!!!) I'm still disappointed that nearly all of Kes's episodes focus so heavily on romantic relationships with men. It wasn't creepy this time, at least, but still, 'not creepy' is the lowest bar imaginable, and Kes, and the audience, deserved better.

Tl;dr: A less offensive storyline than most Kes episodes, and well acted by Jennifer Lien, but the alternate timeline in this one is so cursed that it's not a lot of fun to watch, especially if you're a Paris/Torres shipper.