#I apologize for any misspellings

[grimms-gone]

Polyamory marrage

(loa art rq)

As soon as I saw this request I knew what I had to do cause honestly there the definition of polyamory plus bitsy and also fuck you jean Paul I’m not drawing a rooster

[tenchikotheartist]

Frick it, we ball

KISMET HEADCANNONS for some future fan stuff I wanna make... Goes with this post kinda

Under a cut because it's LONG (the fixation has been REAL)

Gen

They band was formed shortly after the events of Trolls 1. It's the only way they make sense in my mind's timeline.

Branch was trying to get more involved with Troll village without relying on Poppy to connect him with people. He formed his own group of friends, and they became Kismet after realizing how much they enjoyed harmonizing/performing together.

These guys give me frat boy energy for some reason. They just collectively become more chaotic when they're around each other. Yes, even Branch. He and Hype play hot potato with the braincell because otherwise, nothing would get done in this group.

As they got to know one another, teasing one another became their primary love language. Lots of jabs and quips will fly among them when they're together, but they each know it's all in good fun.

Branch

Branch kept his involvement in the band a secret because, well...y'know. He has complicated history with being in a boyband, so he wanted to explore his feelings about Kismet without being bombarded with input from people outside the group.

He's fond of his friends and genuinely enjoys being a part of the band though! He just wants to be sure he's a part of this boy band because he's happy being with them and not because he's trying to recapture something he'd lost 20 years ago.

At first, the others were (understandably) hurt by Branch's desire to keep his place in the band a secret, but after he explained his reasons, they were willing to support him.

They were absolutely thrilled when he finally becomes open about the band though!

During the secrecy period, when he performs in Pop Village, he hides his identity behind a disguise that somehow works (Branch, every time it works: "wtf????"), and he goes by a stage name.

Hype

Officially the group leader, but he's more of a mediator than anything. He relies on the rest of the group to give their input for any big band decisions, but he coordinates band meetings, schedules gigs, and works out compromises if there's any group conflicts.

He and Branch had been childhood friends before The Incident(s) estranged them. Back in the Troll Tree, they'd been neighbors whose parents (Branch's grandma; Hype's mom) set up on frequent playdates, so they'd been really close.

They reconnected after the events of movie 1, Hype introduced Branch to Trickee and later Boom. Trickee brought in Ablaze and the rest was history.

Hype is a social butterly but he's otherwise one of the more calm personalities in the group. He feeds off of other people's energy and is a bit of a people-pleaser. Luckily, he's pretty good at finding the right crowd to run with, otherwise he'd probably land in so much trouble.

Boom

Hype's cousin, and a big party person! Before the band took off, he DJ'd at a party venue in Pop Village. That same place was also where Kismet got their first gig!

He loves loud music and flashy parties where he can shine on the dance floor and make memories people he may only know for a night.

Peak ADHD Energy™. He's a chatterbox. He has no volume control. He tunnel visions so hard, he becomes that B99 headphones meme. The man has cool guy syndrome, no doubt about it!

For the creation of the Band earliest albums, Boom took charge as the producer. He loves messing with music, mixing and remixing sounds on his free time and experimenting with the genre.

Trickee

A thrill-seeking menace to society. He's adventurous and loves taking huge risks for the adrenaline rush. He's the type of guy who would go down a waterfall in a barrel or ski down a dangerous mountain just to see if he survives it.

Everyone in the band is in agreement about protecting Trickee from his own shenanigans. They are 70% of his self-preservation senses.

He also loves a party scene and can often be found with Boom leading the charge towards any good time.

You know that sense of dread before performing in front of a crowd? The way your belly flips and your heart races and you're sure you're shaking hard enough for everyone to see? Trickee lives for that shit when he's in the band. The jitters can get to him, for sure, but afterwards, the man is LIVING from coming out alive on the other side, and he's sharing that thrill with everyone else in the band!

Ablaze

A Rock Troll who has lived among the Pop Trolls since he was a teenager. He stumbled across them while looking for a place to belong, and despite what he was raised to believe about Pop Trolls, he came to love their warmth and friendliness. So he moved in and let everyone assume he was just an odd-looking Pop Troll.

He an Trickee are housemates (podmates?)--not for romantic reasons but because they're longtime friends. When Trickee moved out of his family's home, Ablaze invited him over, and they liked the living arrangement enough to keep it permanent.

At first, Ablaze isn't open about his identity as a Rock Troll, but as he grew closer with the other members of Kismet, he came out to them. By the events of Trolls 2, he's open about being a Rock Troll.

Ablaze's personality sits somewhere in the realm of both chaotic and laid back. On the outside, he's usually pretty chill, but if Boom or Trickee have trouble afoot, Ablaze is usually there egging them on in the background, much to Branch's dismay.

He becomes extremely energetic when he's performing. The more exciting the song, the more vibrant he becomes! The energy is one of the reasons he loves pop music so much, but he can also get hyped from performing rock music. He gets kinda intense though lmao.

The first time the rest of Kismet sees him jamming to rock, they're like "OH. He's definitely a rock troll O_O" They support their rock-n-roll brethren 🤟😔

He has a special interest in fire, particularly fireworks. Back in Pop Village, he even made a business of it, making small rockets, sparklers, and other celebratory items for all your Pop party needs.

Anyway that's all the headcannon stuff I'll share for now. Hope y'all liked reading xD I'm really hoping my attention span will stick around long enough for me to share more in the future, because this fixation has been A Time™/pos

[theunkn0wn-0]

The Gift of Immortality DRAGON BALL STORY: Insert Reader

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER ✕ DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS

╰➤ ⌈ 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… ⌋ ╰┈┈➤ This is a FIRST PERSON POV story for the reader, Y/N, M/C. ╰┈┈➤ Instead of (Y/N), I use [First Name] for your name. ╰┈┈➤ Enjoy the story, have fun.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 008 | 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑺 FIRST CHAPTER: 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 — 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯 | 1

TRIGGER | CONTENT WARNINGS: COMPREHENSIVE & GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION WRITING OF VIOLENCE, GORE, and HEAVY ANGST!! Mentions of DEATH, MURDER, and PROFANITY!!!

009 | The Weight of Conviction

❝All the bright, precious things fade so fast, and they don't come back.❞

•◉◓☆◓◉•

Goku drove my spine into the jagged earth, his weight pinning me as shards of rubble bit into my abdomen. Each movement sent bolts of pain through my body, my breath hitching with every jolt. His voice broke through the fog of my overwhelming emotions.

"You can't let this anger control you," he said, his words an anchor pulling me back to reality. "Don't you see? Look around you!"

My chest heaved as I froze, my gaze shifting to the barren wasteland surrounding us. The moon's cold, silver light bathed the wreckage in an eerie glow. Dirt and rubble stretched as far as the eye could see, scattered with the splintered remains of trees and the shattered fragments of the tournament stage.

The acrid stench of charred wood and scorched vegetation overwhelmed the faint memory of food, blending with the pervasive scent of death. The stench was unbearable, a nauseating blend that made my stomach churn.

An oppressive stillness superseded the cheers of spectators, amplifying the desolation. Smoke curled lazily from the blackened ground like a mourning shroud; each detail reminded me of the destruction Piccolo and I had unleashed, and something inside shifted. For a brief moment, the rage burning in my chest dimmed, leaving a hollow ache in its place.

"I..." My voice faltered, the words strangled in my throat; I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. The memory of terrified cries echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of the lives I had extinguished. The reason for those lives was my insatiable need to exterminate Piccolo.

All because I wanted to survive.

The pain through my mangled arm was a brutal, throbbing ache; however, it was the anguish inside that cut deeper. The guilt was unbearable, gnawing at me like a living thing. The desire to break free, to finish what I had started, still clawed at me; now, it felt like an ember—persistent yet weaker. I arched my neck to scowl at Goku.

"Why are you stopping me?" I rasped, my words barely above a whisper.

Goku's grip loosened slightly. His dark eyes bore into mine, filled not with judgment but with something else: compassion. It infuriated me that I could feel the weight of his pity, provoking me to lash out and rip that look off his face.

        Was it really 'pity' he was showing?

"Because killin' him won't fix this," he said steadily, practically gently. His gaze flickered at our surroundings, then back to me. "Look at what's been lost. Do you really think more death is the answer?"

"You don't understand," I responded in frustration; my voice quivered, and I pulled away from his grasp, wincing as the broken bones in my arm ground together.

"I do understand," Goku firmly interrupted, yet his tone remained calm. "I understand more than you think. Revenge... it won't give you what you're looking for. It'll only take more from you."

I scoffed, shaking my head. The fury that once consumed me began to fracture, tinged with something I did not want to name—doubt. The warmth of his body against my back and the steady beat of his heart were a stark contrast to the coldness of the night and death around us.

"You're stronger than this," he continued. "I've seen it in our fight. There's a fire inside you, and it's not meant for mindless destruction."

"Let me go," I spat, yanking at my injured arm. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain lancing through me, and I barely registered it. "You have nothing to do with this!" My voice cracked under the weight of my irritation and distress. Regardless, something about the manner he spoke—the conviction in his tone, his eyes gazing into mine—made me hesitate, unsure if it was a ploy.

"Yes, I do have somethin' to do with this," Goku countered. "This isn't about you or Piccolo. This is about everyone. I have a friend, Kami; he's the guardian of this world. If Piccolo dies, Kami dies too. And without Kami..." He let the implication dangle in the atmosphere, heavy and unspoken.

Guardian of this world?

"You have a choice," Goku stated, his voice quieter now. His grip on my arm remained tight, though there was no malice in his touch, only a steely resolve.

"Is more bloodshed really what you want? Or is there another way to find peace?"

A hollow ache settled in my chest heavily. The question struck me, slicing through the brume of my wrath and the clamor of my jumbled thoughts. For a long moment, I said nothing. My mind raced, torn between the primal hunger to fight and the faint glimmer of reason Goku had ignited. I stared at him as his words pressed down on me, solemn and undeniable.

        Is there?

My heart thundered against my ribs, the sound deafening in the stillness. The ground beneath me remained hot from the battle, its scorched surface mirroring the turmoil roiling within. I wanted to scream, to unleash the storm of emotions at my throat.

Pain radiated from my broken arm, the bone grinding against torn muscle with every twitch as my shoulders tensed. Yet, even this agony paled against the torment that Goku's words had unearthed—my eternal existence. The constant nights spent evading capture, along with the maddening solitariness and the whispered taunts of my sanity.

Memories overflowed in, haunted by the faces of those I couldn't save and those who saw me as nothing more than a creature. I could almost hear their voices, a cacophony of misery, joy, and anger that lingered like ghosts in my head.

        I don't know.

The answer eluded me, lost in the storm of doubt and anguish as I averted my gaze from Goku. A sharp jolt of pain brought me back to the present, the scream I longed to release dying in my throat. It was swallowed by a suffocating blend of despair and outrage.

"You can't bring back what's been lost, and you don't have to destroy what's left," he said, his tone maddeningly calm. "There's always another way."

His sincerity pierced through my defenses, laying bare the vulnerabilities I had fought to conceal. I wanted to reject it, to shove him away and dismiss his words as a trick. But I couldn't move. My legs felt like lead, and my breath was shallow and strained.

"I know it's not easy," he continued, as his breath closed in. "Believe me, I've been there. I've fought battles that made me question everythin' I thought I knew. In the end, it's the choices we make that shape who we are." Goku's words stirred something inside me, a bitter ache I couldn't suppress. The lump in my throat grew unbearable.

"You're not alone," he said softer than I'd ever heard. It wasn't a command or pity. It was... human. "Not in this. But the choice... it has to be yours."

His words chipped away at my resentment, leaving me raw. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to breathe, shaky and uneven. Everything came crashing down, a torrent of emotions I could no longer ignore. I finally looked at Goku, his gaze gentle and devoid of judgment.

It held an understanding. The kind that only came from facing your problems and choosing to rise above them. His hands pressed me against the fractured ground, rooting me in place. Under the dim moonlight, Goku's face stood out—a mixture of determination and kindness that unsettled me. Kindness I wasn't worthy of, not after everything I'd done. Not after the lives I'd taken, each one staining my soul.

Somewhere in the distance, faint energy signatures approached, pulling my attention—no doubt it was his friends; somehow, they survived. Their energies were faint but growing closer. I did not feel relief—not exactly. My paranoia rose to the surface, thoughts of warnings, scenarios, and contingencies they might see my identity. And then, just beyond the fog of my overthinking, I felt it: Piccolo's ki.

Weak, distant, but undeniably alive.

When I finally spoke, my voice was hoarse, barely carrying over the heavy silence. "Okay," I whispered, each word scraping against my pride as I forced myself to relent. "I won't attack. You can let me go now."

His grip loosened, yet his hands remained poised, ready to act at the slightest provocation. He studied me, his dark eyes boring into mine as though searching for any hint of deception; I met his gaze without flinching, masking my true intentions. After a pause, he nodded, a small, weary smile breaking across his face. Relief—perhaps even hope—flickered in his expression.

"Thank you," he said, his words laden with sincerity. "I know this wasn't easy."

Easy? He had no idea what I'd endured.

I didn't respond, staggering to my feet with slow, pained movements. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to retaliate, to reclaim the control I'd lost. Instead, I gritted my teeth and clutched my injured arm, tugging the shredded sleeve of my hoodie down to conceal the gruesome sight. My regenerative ability had already begun its work, stitching torn muscle and splintered bone back together with an unnatural efficiency that felt more invasive than natural.

Footsteps crunched against the rubble, followed by Krillin's voice cutting through the quiet. "Goku! Are you alright?"

Snippets of conversation from Yamcha and Tenshinhan reached my ears, mingling with the faint sensations of other approaching energies. I looked away to hide my face and my other hand tugged my hood to conceal me further, as my gaze was locked on Piccolo's unconscious form yards away. Seeing him vulnerable, so close to death, stoked the embers of my fury into a blaze.

I glanced at Goku, urgently speaking to his friends, likely explaining the situation. Their words blurred into meaningless noise; nothing they said mattered. My arm had fully healed, and with it, my resolve solidified. This wasn't over. A surge of energy erupted within me, my ki blazing like an unrestrained inferno.

The wind roared in my ears as I launched forward, my vision narrowing to Piccolo's prone figure—power burned in my palm, ready for the final, decisive blow. A wicked smile curved my lips, my target clear.

Before I could strike—

"No!" Goku's voice tore through the tension like thunder, jolting me from focus.

I barely registered his movement before his fist slammed into my face, sending me sprawling. Agony radiated through my skull as I tumbled across the ground, landing with a force that rattled my teeth. The air left my lungs in a rush, and the world spun as I came to rest on the jagged earth, my body a crumpled heap.

Momentarily, I lay there, dazed and disoriented. Pain surged through me, sharp and all-encompassing. Slowly, my regeneration kicked in, although it couldn't smother the anger igniting within, chasing away the haze of confusion. Snarling, I scrambled to my feet, only for Goku to pin me down with unrelenting strength that made my back pierce under the rocks.

"Why?" His voice trembled with frustration, though beneath it, I caught a faint trace of pleading. "Why are you doin' this? I thought we had an understanding! I don't wanna hurt you, but you're leavin' me no choice!"

Who the hell does this guy think he is, telling me what to do?

His hands gripped my shoulders, firm but measured, as if trying to reason with me instead of forcing my compliance. I glared at him, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Fury boiled inside me, clouding my thoughts like a storm as I spat blood onto the dirt. The bitter taste burned like fire in my throat.

"He needs to die!" I shouted, cutting through the air like a raw, primal scream. My fingers curled around his arms, feeling the heat of his skin beneath my grip. "Piccolo is a monster, a reincarnation of his father. You don't know what his kind is capable of—he'll never stop until the world is his to control!"

I spoke from experience, from the scars King Piccolo left on me. They etched themselves into my very being, a constant reminder of the price of inaction. I couldn't let history repeat itself, not when I had the chance to end it.

Goku's gaze softened, his brow furrowing as he scanned my face. "I know you're angry," he said, his voice steady yet tinged with sorrow. "You're scared." My breath caught in my throat as the phantom weight of confinement pressed against my ribs, suffocating me. I shoved the thought away, refusing to let fear hold me.

"This isn't the way; it doesn't solve anythin' and it won't undo the past."

I barked a laugh, sharp and bitter, cutting him off. "Undo the past? Don't give me that bullshit. The past never leaves. It festers. It rots. And it always comes back." My voice cracked as I hurled those words at him, each one a shard of the pain I'd carried for hundreds of thousands of years. "I don't care about Kami or whatever he thinks. Maybe he would agree the only thing that matters is keeping the world safe from Piccolo. If that means I get my hands dirty, so be it."

Goku's eyes didn't waver. "This isn't you," he implores. "You're not a monster."

I froze, his words stirring something deep within. Briefly, shame flashed in the depths of my core; regardless, it was snuffed out by the tidal wave of wrath that followed. My eyes shifted to Piccolo's unmoving body, and my chest clenched with an overwhelming feeling.

"When he wakes up, what then?" My voice shook despite my efforts to control it. "What happens when he kills your loved ones? Are you willing to risk everything in the hope that he'll change?"

Goku's eyes locked onto mine, unwavering. "And what about you?" he asked quietly. "What happens if you do this? Will you be any different from him?"

That struck a nerve.

I wanted to scoff, to laugh it off—but his gaze pinned me in place. The weight of my actions crushed me. I had torn through the tournament grounds like a force of nature, leaving devastation in my wake. And what had it all been for?

"Get off me!" I shouted in a raw and desperate voice.

"Please," he urged. "Let me help you."

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to believe him. But the knot in my stomach tightened, and the shadows of paranoia crept in, louder than his words.

Did he think this was a game, or worse, some manipulative tactic?

"Will you shut up, goody-two-shoes?" Disdain laced every syllable, and my voice continued to crack, exposing the turmoil that churned beneath my defiant exterior. His unrelenting optimism was gasoline to the fire burning inside me. My grip tightened on his arm—not enough to hurt him. Not yet. I did not want to add another senseless death to the carnage I've wrought with Piccolo.

"You're dooming everyone with your childish idealism." My words lashed out, yet they felt hollow as if I were fighting a battle not just with him but with myself. I couldn't meet his gaze, choosing to focus on the devastation surrounding us. The tournament grounds stood as mute testimony to the destruction my rage had wrought—hundreds dead, their bodies crushed beneath my hands.

Will you be any different from him?

The question echoed in my mind, a cruel whisper from the recesses of my fragile mind.

Was I any different?

Finally, Goku loosened his grip and stepped back, giving me space. I pushed myself to my feet, brushing dust from my torn clothing as the phantom weight of his hands lingered. I ignored the urge to lash out at him, my muscles continued to scream in protest. My body could heal, but my mind was a different battle altogether.

"I'm sorry," he quietly uttered with an undertone of regret. "I can't force you to see things my way. I wish you'd think about it."

I gritted my teeth, a bitter sound scraping from my throat. "Think? About what? Sparing him so he can come back stronger? So he can destroy everything and everyone?"

Goku's eyes glanced at Piccolo's unconscious form, his face etched with concern. "He can change," Goku stated and turned back to me. "Everyone deserves a chance to change. Piccolo is part of this world, just like you an' me. Maybe he's done terrible things, it doesn't mean he can't change."

I swallowed hard, bile rising in my throat, and my jaw tightened. "And what happens if you're wrong?" My voice was low, sharp enough to cut. "What happens when he doesn't change?"

Goku opened his mouth to respond; however, I did not let him. "This is your issue now," I asserted strongly, closing the distance between us, and my finger jabbed hard into his chest. "If he kills again, it's in your hands. It's not mine. The blame is yours for sparing that brute's life."

He didn't get a chance to respond as I tightened my fist and delivered a forceful blow to his abdomen.

The impact reverberated through my arm, a sharp jolt coursing down my bones as Goku doubled over. The dull crunch reverberated through me, a disturbing blend of satisfaction and malevolence surging in its wake. His eyes widened, and the air left his lungs in a painful gasp. He staggered back, clutching his stomach, while shouts from his friends were muted by the relentless thrum of adrenaline coursing through me. My decision was made.

Without a word, I ascended into the sky, breaking the sound barrier. The wind roared in my ears and the icy air stinging my face as clouds scattered into thin wisps. Faintly, Goku's hoarse shout reached me: "Wait!"

I didn't look back.

I pushed higher, the broken landscape shrinking beneath me, and the people I left behind became a distant blur. Above the clouds, I dropped my energy, masking my presence and hiding myself from anyone who might try to follow. And then I was alone.

My chest heaved as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind a hollow ache once more. The icy wind brushed against my skin, biting through the layers of clothing and numbing me to the bone, but it wasn't enough to quiet my thoughts.

I flew through the open expanse, the pale moon casting its ghostly glow over the barren landscape below. Ragged mountains formed the earth like scars, their peaks shrouded in mist. The cold air smelled faintly of stone and frost, clean yet sharp, a scent that only seemed to amplify the emptiness settling within me.

Damn it, why did I run?

The thought churned in my mind, and my fists clenched at my sides, trembling as my nails bit into my palms. I should have stayed and fought until Piccolo was in ashes. The image of his twisted smirk burned into my mind as my stomach twisted.

That man doesn't understand. He never will.

My teeth ground together at the thought of him, his naive optimism, his faith in people—even monsters like Piccolo. He'd hesitated, giving Piccolo another chance to wreak havoc, and I'd allowed it.

What is wrong with me?!

The outrage resurfaced, hot and consuming, searing away the cold briefly. I needed to go back. I had to finish what I'd started and end the threat before it could grow. The idea ignited brightly in my heart, a singular focus that nearly drowned out doubt lurking from the edges.

No. I made the right choice.

I told myself, though the words rang hollow. My jaw tightened, the muscles in my face taut with tension.

Right?

The question lingered, and I shook my head violently as if the motion could dislodge the uncertainty festering within. Despite my attempts, it spread, winding through my mind like a slow, venomous tide as the familiar panic awakened.

Stupid! Stupid!

I mentally lashed out at myself, the self-loathing rising like bile and naming Goku's mindset as ridiculous. My flight became erratic, the wind jerking me as I wavered, trying to regain my focus to fly. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the thoughts back into the depths where they belonged.

•◉◒☆◒◉•

Finished: December 13, 2024 Published: December 25, 2024

I have reasons to publish this chapter instead the day I finished. During this month, some of you may have your finals/exams for your education or are busy preparing to meet your loved ones to celebrate the holidays; I wanted to give you all a chance to focus on your life. Since it's a break and a celebration on this day, this is a gift from me to you after everything that's been going on this year of 2024. Stay safe, and Happy Holidays!

— The_Unkn0wn_0

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 008 | 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑺 NEXT CHAPTER: 010 | 𝑨 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳'𝑺 𝑳𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

LINK TO THE BOOK [WATTPAD]: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 If you're interested in stories like these, here is my 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[immagrosscandy]

i'm scrolling through my old art and i got the feelings 😭

i can't believe how far i've come in terms of artstyle and drawing and painting and making content- like I start reading my own stuff and i'm like "aw yeah it's all coming together" "i peaked here for sure this is so good"

and now here i am studying goddamn ANIMATION. I HAVE A STOPMOTION CLASS. GOD DIGGITY DAMN.

i think that posting stuff here really helped me with my confidence. and that people were giving me positive feedback, and really liked the things i did!? that's awesome i feel so proud of myself!

like it was the first time i'e interacted with a fandom ever in my life. like i entered tumblr at the age of what, 17? and i got to learn lots of amazing things, i got to interact with the lgbt community for the first time, too, and learned lots of cool stuff about others... and maybe about myself as well

(i'm still unsure, but i'm figuring myself out 😅)

most importantly, i got the chance to meet some amazing people on the journey! with some of them i still interact with, and some other don't, but i still had lots of fun and created some fun memories i still think to this day.

there were some bad moments, of course, i still remember that time i got told off about not drawing an afro and a hijab correctly, i've never drawn them before so, of course i don't. but hey, i'm glad it kind of happened since it made me persevere and learn some more

so yeah! i want to think positively about my first time in a fandom ever, i learned a lot, yet i think i haven't learned enough, so let's keep going! now i'm deep into ace attorney but i still like this stupid hp mobile game (i haven't finished year 7 and THERE'S MORE THERE’S A YEAR 8 WHY?! LET MC REST) so when i got some spare time i'll drop new content :D

(I haven't even talked about my MCs lore it's been 4 YEARS)

so now i'm gonna do homework bye! :D

[raynavan]

heavy spoilers for chapter 23 of Always by your side by @ingo-ingoing-ingone!! this chapter was so fantastic i. didnt have words for it. ended up doing 6 (nearly 7) drawings for it instead. i think this is my record- it took me roughly 7 hours. a fair warning! this is both art and a comment to the fic in one. so its rather long!

ok i had an Unreasonable amount of fun doing the background on this one. ended up looking up a lot of the celestial bodies mentioned in the fic, man are they cool! it was implied that Emmet didn't really have a body so! stars instead. the colors were fun- i dont often let myself just. color like this haha! this one was... reall amazing. a fantastic opener! i immediately latched onto the visuals and painted a picture in my mind. it was just so... astronomical?

i actually struggled with how i was going to position these two for a while. at first it was just them coloring in a clearing- then i made them watching pokemon, and then. this! idk- there just something sweet in how Ingo turns around to look at Emmet and... lighting was funky for this one- how a forest shades the things beneath it will always hold a special place in my heart. these two interacting is always so wonderful to read. the gentle ribbing and teasing and... just them chilling and talking was so nice. the fact that it was dragons was even better! dragons are the best. i felt a very sweet and gentle moment needed an equally sweet and gentle drawing. if i could, i might have gone for line less on Ingo and Emmet here as well.

right- this was the last one i did. i think its the only one that i didn't get specifically from what was written. i just... wanted to give Emmet cuddles alright? /lh i had another sketch exploring exactly what Emmet might look, but i think ill revisit that when i... haven't been drawing for 7 hours straight hgfireohgope. the one in this is more simplified. the horror of having your face show one emotion- not even the one your most known for... your voice is toneless and the only was you can show even a fraction of what you feel is by copying what you (supposedly) dead brother used to do. there is a quiet horror in that- and yet Emmet still goes on. he cant feel texture and yet... he deserves many nice things.

this one!!! was originally going to be an Entire piece with a more "realistic" drawing of Ingo sitting behind a fire just like this. when i sketched this out (in the middle of reading it) that was the plan. Jedi saved me by making Emmet draw it like this. you saved me probably an hour ghirepoghpeirh. i... still might draw it how i wanted at some point. also the lighting was added last minute! i thought it would look... more messy with the light of the fire shining on it. i think it looks nice. the scene was sweet and, like Emmet mentioned he did, i put emphasis (or uh... thicker more defined lines) around peoples faces to better define their happiness. it made me happy to read them being happy and then draw them being happy <3

them!!!!!! i do not think it is a secret at All how much i love this au. i was More than happy to draw them again. and!!! being happy!!! perfect. i remembered this was a dream, and decided to blur the background quite a bit of this one- lopsided like its not really being thought about. adored this one. them!! teasing each other!! just!! going through a day!! perfect. amazing. it was really fun the way the small details of their routine was captured. from Ingo just. turning to goop so he doesn't have to pick up his clothes to Emmet just. accepting everything that happened from the mental connection to the shared feelings.

DRAMATIC FORESHORTENING!!!! i almost wanted to play it up More but then i might lose Ingo's expression. the background for this was fun to do- emphasis! strong colors!! looks like something broke. like something was torn away. this whole bit is just. exactly what Emmet fears and its just. ough. Ingo would never do this- we know this, Emmet knows this two- he knows how ridiculous Ingo was being here. and then the climax with Emmet just... falling off... amazing. Ingo's horrified expression is what caught my attention here, though i had a few more ideas depicting Ingo leaning over Emmet. i figured a dramatic drawing here would fit.

so! there ya go. i had. so much fun doing this and! thank you so much for writing this and sharing with us Jedi. if you keep this up, ill just have to keep making more drawings!! i don't think words are enough- not even sure if these can properly express how i felt reading it all (i actual had to get up and pace around bc i got so excited) but! i think that your art inspired my own art is a very beautiful thing.

lets all keep making art with one another forever.

[sf-a2collab]

I did something a bit different for the contributor list this year. This applies more to Bluesky and Instagram since they don't support hyperlinks like tumblr does :^P

Hopefully this will streamline the crediting process across all the platforms the collab is on!

That being said, I think I'll create a little survey tomorrow after the 2024 collab is posted to gauge thoughts on a number of things, so keep your eyes peeled for that!

Thank you in advance, everyone! I hope you're all looking forward to the 2024 collab :3

[inkyucu]

~ On a scale from one to ten my friend you're ✨fucked✨~

[cs-cabin-and-crew]

I’m currently watching ‘the help’ (amazing movie, do go watch it)

And dear lord do I wanna cry for that poor baby who cries for Abie at the end. My heart can’t take this.

[spyderschaos]

Just finished chap 2 of gold-silk: origins but I want my friend to read it before I post it incase smth doesn’t make sense and to spell check and shit but it’s almost 11pm so I have to wait till tomorrow

[nemesis-21]

Laws of Attraction was quite the journey.

I can't remember the last time I got so attached to this many side characters from one show. (Like can I please be besties with Grandma, Maya, Rose, and Nawin?) And despite knowing Tin and Charn get married before starting the series, I cried my eyes out still. (My only complaint is that it would have been nice to get more substance with Thee and Tai's relationship development.)

I was surprised too how this series was able to have me laughing, shocked, giggling and kicking my feet, crying, cringing, and confused the entire time.

It was camp. It was delightful. And revenge is sweet justice was served.

10/10 Highly recommend

[leenesomewhatdraws]

Novembmas, Day 16: Trade / Receiding Hairline !

Granitas are the best, what can I say <3

Transcription: (1) [E] "Ooh can I have some of your granita ?" / (2) [I] "Sure, try it"

(3) [E] "Thanks, here, you can have some of my ice cream in exchange"

(The stuff under their eyes is tear tracks lol)

Transcription:

First image: (After being back from getting eeby-deebied) (E) "Lmaoo you're bald" / [arrow pointing Ingo moving his right hand to touch his hair] (E) "!"

Second image: (E) "..." / (E) "Nooooo-"

"Receiding hairline" idea explanation under the cut

Sooo, I assume that lots of people will get the sibling culture I'm referencing in the "Receiding hairline" submission but anyway- just to be safe- :

Inspired by something I did to my youngest sister when I first got acne. At the time she made comments about it that could have brought down people sensible about it.

I don't remember being hurt by them, mostly because she was young, but I didn't want her to say the same to our other siblings (who would start to have acne soon) and have them take it more to heart.

So, I'd touch my forehead/face, then touch hers before saying "Okay, now you'll also get it" as a way to say,, like,,, "Sure but it's not something you can control on the spot, and since you have to go through it, it's kinder not to make remarks/jokes like that"

That ans I also wanted to pretend like I cursed her lol

I dunno honestly 😅 but anywau, basically : Ingo cursed Emmet with the baldness inevitability curse(tm) lol

[dedummekrakene]

welp. bruins game was something! next game! my arbitrary decision is im supporting the stars! pls treat me nicely stars lb

[theunkn0wn-0]

The Gift of Immortality DRAGON BALL STORY: Insert Reader

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER ✕ DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS

╰➤ ⌈ 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… ⌋ ╰┈┈➤ This is a FIRST PERSON POV story for the reader, Y/N, M/C. ╰┈┈➤ Instead of (Y/N), I use [First Name] for your name. ╰┈┈➤ Enjoy the story, have fun.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 003 | 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬'𝑺 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬 FIRST CHAPTER: 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 — 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯 | 1

TRIGGER | CONTENT WARNINGS: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION WRITING OF VIOLENCE!!! Mentions of light SWEARING, and BLOOD!

004 | Epiphany

❝The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.❞

•◉◓☆◓◉•

I launched myself forward, fists poised to strike, closing the distance between us; my movements were fluid and deliberate. A barrage of punches and jabs rained down upon him, each blow fueled by a mixture of desperation and resolve. Goku remained on the defensive, his movements a blur of speed and agility as he deftly evaded my attacks.

Undeterred, I pressed on, relentless in my pursuit of victory. Jab, hook, rear hook—I threw everything I had at him, testing the limits of his defenses. And then, I seized the opportunity to change tactics. With a swift pivot, I transformed my rear hook into an uppercut, channeling a portion of my strength into the blow. Goku barely managed to dodge, his surprise evident in the flicker of his expression.

He was quick to recover, his resilience a testament to his skill and strength. Goku surged forward with an offensive attitude, delivering a two-handed strike aimed at my chest, striving to turn the tide of the battle in his favor. Yet, in a display of agility and flexibility borne of millennia of training. I gracefully evaded his strike; I dropped to the ground.

With a quick maneuver, I arched my back, planting my hands firmly on the arena floor as I brought my legs to my chest. I unleashed a brisk counterattack; my legs were blurred as they shot upward, sending Goku reeling backward. The crowd burst into cheers, their excitement echoing through the arena as I delivered the first blow of the match. With a deft kick-up, I regained my footing, and my muscles coiled like a spring as I took a defensive stance.

Despite the thrill of battle, a fleeting moment of introspection invaded my mind, a reminder to temper my strength. My survival instincts are screaming for me to go all out and end this swiftly, but that would destroy the purpose of determining my opponent's power, along with trying to hide my true potential from my enemy who is watching me.

I have to restrain myself as much as I despise it; going to my full power now would be unfair. He needs to make a move—

A sharp blow landed squarely in my gut, knocking the wind from my lungs and jolting me out of my reverie. Goku closed the distance between us and reminded me of the consequences of hesitation in battle. I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively clutching at the source of pain.

Never mind. Fuck...

My body would recover, my senses on high alert as Goku unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes. Each punch and kick came with lightning precision, leaving little room for evasion or defense. Despite the onslaught, I managed to avoid his attacks, albeit with effort. Yet, I couldn't help but let a few blows land, a deliberate decision to show vulnerability that would cause Junior to underestimate me.

With each hit, I gritted my teeth, suppressing the urge to retaliate with full force. Despite my efforts to conceal my true strength, Goku sensed something was wrong. His brow furrowed in confusion as he realized I was holding back, and he struggled to keep pace with my elusive maneuvers. As Goku pressed on, his attacks growing more ferocious with each passing moment, I dodged his punches, and my hand caught one of his fists with effortless ease, guiding it harmlessly past me.

At the same time, my left leg subtly positioned itself behind Goku's, ready to execute the next move. With a fluid and swift motion, I pivoted his body, using the leverage of my grounded stance to exert force through my right arm, throwing a blow of strength to guide his momentum, using his force against him to throw him off balance.

Goku stumbled, his body crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. Wasting no time, I launched into a follow-up attack, my clenched fist aimed squarely at his defenseless face. Despite his best efforts to block, the force of my blow landed with brutal accuracy, sending him slamming to the ground once more, the force of the blow driving the wind from his lungs.

Even with the restraint I exercised, the pain was palpable, etched across his features as he struggled to regain his footing; I took a step back, allowing Goku a moment to recover. The crowd erupted into cheers as they watched the intense exchange unfold.

"Come on, show me what you got," I urged, my voice carrying a hint of nonchalance, a silent invitation to continue the battle. With a grunt of effort, Goku rose to his feet, his gaze locked on mine with a steely determination. I knew he was holding back, just as I was, each of us biding our time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

His movements were measured as he studied me with a keen eye; I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his mind dissecting my every move with precision. I seized the moment, launching myself forward with a fierce resolve, my fist prepared to strike.

But before my fist could connect, an unseen force collided with my face, sending shockwaves of pain reverberating through my skull. Confusion mingled with pain as I realized Goku had struck me from a distance, his arm outstretched in a display of unseen power as he stood at the same spot.

What the hell was that? How had he managed to strike me from this distance? That move…

The shock of his counterattack reverberated through my senses; before I could unravel the mystery, Goku charged at me with renewed vigor. Instinct kicked in, my body moving on autopilot as we clashed in a flurry of blows. Our arms locked in a fierce struggle, the air thick with the sound of grunts and the clash of fists.

In a split second, my feet lashed out, connecting with his chin, his chin snapping upward as he stumbled backward. Then, a memory struck me, a fragment of my training with King Piccolo resurfacing from the depths of my subconscious.

Drawing upon that reservoir of knowledge, I unleashed a wave of energy, propelling it towards Goku with all the force I could muster. His chest buckled under the onslaught, a testament to the raw power of my attack. But amidst the chaos of battle, a nagging question lingered.

How did he know that shockwave technique? That technique was from King Piccolo… Is there a connection between him and King Piccolo? Is that why Junior mentioned him getting in his way?

As we continued to trade blows, the answers eluded me, shrouded in the haze of uncertainty. Hours felt like mere moments as we danced on the precipice of combat with our fists and kicks, neither of us willing to yield an inch.

With a final clash, we both leaped back, a temporary ceasefire in our relentless battle. Goku's smile, tinged with respect and amazement, his eyes sparkled with a glint of admiration. His words, though unexpected, carried a weight of sincerity that caught me off guard.

"Have you been holding back this much? I'm impressed," he remarked, his tone genuine. "Can we put this on timeout for a sec?"

His sudden request for a timeout raised an eyebrow of confusion, but I remained vigilant, unsure of what he had in store. And then, with a seemingly innocuous remark, he proceeded to strip off his top garments and the shirt underneath his Gi top.

The sight of Goku struggling to remove his shirt as his garments fell to the ground with a heavy thud, revealing his sculpted muscles and toned physique, a wave of confusion washed over me. But it was the weight of his discarded attire that caught my attention. Each piece, from his shirt to his wristbands, bore a substantial heft, hinting it wasn't normal clothes.

Confusion gnawed at me as I observed a group of fighters approach him, their familiarity with Goku evident in their companionship, offering assistance in setting aside his cumbersome attire. Their conversation drifted to the peculiar weight of his clothing; the garment weighed an extraordinary amount of 250 pounds.

I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer strength and endurance required to carry such a load into battle. A newfound respect bloomed within me for the man standing before me. To carry such a load in combat spoke volumes of Goku's dedication and determination. However, I pushed aside any semblance of sentiment, bracing myself for the battle and the revelation of even more surprises lurking beneath his seemingly carefree exterior.

As Goku's comrades retreated, leaving him to don his Gi top once more, I seized the opportunity to press the attack. With lightning-fast reflexes, I launched myself forward, intent on landing a decisive blow. But in a sudden twist of strategy, I dropped to the floor, sweeping his legs out from under him with calculated precision.

Goku's surprise was palpable as he crashed to the ground, his balance shattered. But before he could recover, I was already on my feet, unleashing a barrage of attacks aimed at his chest. Despite his agility, he managed to evade my strikes, rolling away with practiced ease.

In the heat of battle, I found myself consumed by the thrill of combat, momentarily forgetting my purpose. But as the fight raged on, a realization dawned upon me: I was here to gauge Goku's strength, to test his limits. His speed was unparalleled, his movements fluid and unpredictable.

Landing a hit seemed like an impossible feat as he effortlessly dodged and weaved through my attacks. With each evasive maneuver, I was expending more of my ki energy, straining to keep pace with his relentless assault.

But just as I began to falter, Goku seized the opportunity to strike. Catching my punch, his movements mirrored the tactic I had used against him. With precision and finesse, he manipulated my body, leveraging his grounded stance to redirect my momentum against me.

I crashed to the ground with a jolt, the impact reverberating through my bones. But even as pain flared through my limbs, instinct propelled me into action, executing an Imanari Roll, a technique ingrained in muscle memory from centuries of training. My body rolled as I latched onto Goku's leg, my legs entwined around his as I brought him crashing down to the ground beside me.

A collective roar erupted from the crowd, their cheers reverberating through the arena like thunder. But even as I regained the offensive, Goku seized hold of my leg, and with his strength, he hurled me skyward, the ground receding beneath me in a dizzying blur, my body soaring high above the battlefield.

As I hung suspended in the air, a sense of awe washed over me at the sight of Goku harnessing his ki energy, a bright orb forming between his cupped hands and bringing it to his side; the brilliance of his ki radiated with an intensity that left me breathless.

He can use ki manipulation?

Time seemed to slow as I grappled with the realization that I was facing not just a skilled fighter, but a person who could utilize ki energy. The implications sent a shiver down my spine, a surge of anxiety mixing with the awe that gripped my mind. If Goku had such capabilities, it meant that others could as well in this continent.

The government with its resources and relentless pursuit to capture me could easily enlist others with similar abilities to track me down. They would be stronger, verve, and faster to keep up with me, and with the Somnus drug, they could inject me if I let down my guard or slip up. Just the thought of facing adversaries with similar powers by those who sought to exploit my immortality caused that thrill of this battle to vanish, replaced by sheer dread.

I hovered in the air; the wind whipped around me, carrying the scent of ozone and tension. Before I could react, Goku appeared behind me with a mighty yell, accompanied by a blinding beam of light hurtling toward me.

"...me–HA!"

His voice sent a jolt of fear coursing through my veins as I braced myself for the onslaught. Instinct took over as I reached out, my hand connecting with the searing energy of the attack. Memories of King Piccolo's training flooded my mind, guiding my movements with a sense of urgency born from fear, a survival mechanism honed through years of misfortune.

With a steady hand, I redirected the beam, guiding it with precision back toward Goku. A look of bewilderment crossed Goku's face, his eyes wide with disbelief as his own attack barreled towards him. In a loud blast, he was sent hurtling back toward the ground, the force of his impact sending shockwaves rippling through the arena.

As the dust settled, I glanced down at my hand, which was trembling, the faint remnants of burn marks fading away as if they had never been; I struggled to steady my racing heart. With a shaky breath, I lowered myself to the ground, but before I could hit the earth, I instinctively levitated, hovering just above the ground before landing with a soft thud.

My eyes darted to Goku's prone form, his body battered and bruised, evidence of the blast of his attack and fall; fear gnawed at my insides, the possibility of having taken a life when I had reminded myself not to kill during this tournament.

"ONE!" The announcer's voice pierced through the haze of my thoughts, signaling the countdown to victory; however, my attention was fixated on Goku, his body broken yet miraculously still breathing.

"TWO!" Beads of sweat gathered on my brow, mingling with the remnants of dust and smoke that lingered in the air, my hands still trembling with the weight of what could have been.

At least he was alive and breathing.

"THREE!" The countdown continued, the sound of the crowd's cheers blending into a cacophony of noise that reverberated through the arena and in my ears.

"FOUR!" The realization that someone like Goku, skilled in ki manipulation, posed a threat that transcended mere physical prowess. With each passing moment, the fear threatened to overwhelm me, a suffocating weight upon my chest.

"FIVE!" I wouldn't be safe anymore if the government discovered these types of people, who could be on the same level as me, capturing me more easily than before I had learned ki energy.

"SIX!" Goku lay motionless on the ground, his body twitching with the effort to rouse himself from the brink of unconsciousness. For a fleeting moment, my thoughts drifted to the mission at hand. To assess his strength and skill, to determine if he could defeat Junior.

"SEVEN!" But as the count continued, my focus narrowed, my attention zeroing in on the fallen fighter before me. He needed to get up. I couldn't afford to face Junior, not yet.

“EIGHT!”

Get up…

“NINE!”

Get up!

“TEN!”

And with that final count, the round drew to a close, declaring me the victor of Match 2. A surge of conflicting emotions washed over me, a mixture of defeat and dissatisfaction. While any regular person would revel in the glory of victory, I couldn't shake the sense of defeat that lingered in the air, a bitter taste of resignation.

A battle won, yet another step closer to the inevitable conflict with Junior. Goku wasn't the one I had been seeking who could end the reign of terror that would take over us all. But there were others; other fighters who might possess the power to tip the scales in my favor.

With a disdainful scoff, I turned away, the sound of rushing footsteps and Goku's comrades converging around him in a flurry of concern. He was no longer my concern. If he still drew breath, it mattered little whether bones were broken or wounds inflicted.

As I walked away, my gaze drifted upwards, drawn to the towering figure of Junior, perched upon the roof of the tournament building. His smug smirk taunted me from afar, igniting fury within my chest. Oh, how I longed to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Turning my attention elsewhere, I passed by a figure that gave me pause.

It was a tall and very muscular bald man; having a large scar on the right side of his chest that crossed his collarbone and ran down to his abdomen. His outfit consists of a green baggy toga-like top. A pair of baggy green pants, red-and-green wristbands, black boots with yellow covers, and a red sash.

But the third eye on his forehead caught my attention, its piercing gaze boring into my soul. But before either of us could speak, a voice shattered the stillness, pulling me back to the present, and turned around. It was Goku; who stood behind me, his smile genuine despite the strain evident in his voice.

"You put up quite a fight back there. That move you pulled, caught me by surprise. Looking forward to a rematch, and this time, let's go all out!"

His eagerness was palpable, infectious even, but I couldn't help but smirk behind my facemask, amused by his obliviousness to my true identity and the depths of my power; I highly doubted he ever would find out about me.

"Sure, if you can find me," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of cockiness that went unnoticed by Goku. His grin widened, his eyes alight with excitement like a child promised a reward for good behavior.

But as the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, heralding the start of the next match, my focus shifted to the upcoming fight between Krillin and Junior. I chose to remain rooted in place, a silent observer to study Junior's skills and abilities. Despite my outward calm, a sense of worry gnawed at the edges of my consciousness.

What if Junior was worse than King Piccolo?

I felt compelled to warn Krillin of the threat that he would face. But before I could intercede, Goku stepped forward, his demeanor shifting from jovial to solemn in an instant. He approached the short, noseless man clad in an orange gi, his black eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Krillin, your opponent for the next match is no ordinary warrior," Goku cautioned, his voice tinged with a gravity that belied his usual cheerfulness.

Krillin arched an eyebrow, intrigued by his friend's cryptic warning. "How so?" he inquired, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Trust me, keep your guard up," Goku replied. As their conversation unfolded, my suspicions grew. Goku's words hinted at a deeper connection between him, Junior, and perhaps even King Piccolo. It was a puzzle I couldn't solve, each piece adding to the mystery of his character.

With a silent nod of acknowledgment, Krillin walked away from us, his resolve determined despite the ominous energy emanating from Junior. Standing alongside Goku, I maintained my stoic facade, arms crossed as the two fighters entered the ring.

Their exchange of words was lost in the roar of the crowd, but the tension hung heavy in the air. As Krillin assumed a defensive stance and Junior stood motionless, his energy, thick with malice, enveloped the arena like a suffocating shroud.

A sudden tug at my core drew my attention to Krillin, his ki energy surging with unexpected power. Disbelief flickered across my features as I realized he, too, possessed the ability to harness his inner power. The realization was both intriguing and unsettling.

How many people know about ki? First Goku, then this guy?! This brethren of the seven dwarfs', noseless, bald guy!? Damn, I haven't been keeping up with society, and I guess this is normal to people nowadays, or maybe at least in this continent.

Even Junior, his smug grin fading, seemed to recognize the gravity of Krillin's energy. With a burst of light, Krillin unleashed a torrent of ki energy, two beams of light hurtling toward his opponent with a fierce shout. Yet, Junior remained unfazed, effortlessly evading the assault by soaring into the air.

But Krillin was not deterred. With a quick shift in strategy, Krillin redirected his beams, following Junior's movements. Junior retaliated with his own eye beams, shattering Krillin's attack, the resulting explosions sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

To my astonishment, Krillin closed the distance with lightning speed, his fist connecting squarely with Junior's face, sending Junior hurtling backward in a whirlwind of motion. Goku's exclamation of awe echoed through the air, a sentiment I couldn't help but share.

As the fight continued, Krillin landed on the ground, his movements fluid and controlled. Junior—undeterred by the blow, landed on the ground and faced his opponent. My focus remained as Krillin surged forward; Junior dodged and parried his flurry of punches, bringing them perilously close to the edge of the ring.

With a leap, they soared into the air, the arena below shrinking to a mere speck beneath them. Junior's powerful kick sent Krillin hurtling toward the ground, eliciting cries of concern from Goku.

My heart raced as I watched, my mind torn between fear for Krillin's safety and admiration for his resilience. But just as it seemed he would meet his end in a bone-crushing fall, Krillin halted mid-air, defying the laws of physics that left me in awe.

Regardless, it was more alarming that these fighters possessed abilities far beyond the realm of human comprehension. If the government were to harness such power, capturing me would be child's play.

Krillin hovered and landed in the center of the arena, wiping blood from his lips; a hush fell over the crowd.

"I think I speak for the entire audience how unbelievable that was. Just amazing!" The announcer's voice cut through the silence like a knife, his words a reverent homage to the spectacle that had unfolded before us. Through the members of the crowd, I strained to catch the exchange between Krillin and Junior.

"I must admit you surprised me. Your moves and techniques are adequate for such a limited mind. I congratulate you. Forgive my bias, I see now that I can afford to show you a little of my real power."

Junior's smug grin spoke volumes, his words dripping with arrogance and disdain. I could taste the bitterness of his ego as Krillin met his gaze with a steely resolve.

"Real power? Okay, let's see it," Krillin challenged him with a chuckle. Yet, deep down, I knew the danger from Junior's facade. His cunning, like that of a sly fox, that Junior's display of power would be nothing short of catastrophic.

My gaze narrowed, a feeling of apprehension coursing through me as Junior's ki energy surged, his form expanding. His aura, once a mere echo of his father's malice, now swelled with a power that sent ripples of unease and irritation cascading through my being.

His energy is different from King Piccolo's centuries ago. This is not good.

The crowd erupted into cheers once more, the tension thick enough to slice through with a blade. With a menacing grin, Junior extended his arm, his limb elongated, catching everyone off guard, including Krillin. He ensnared Krillin in his grasp before delivering a devastating blow that sent the fighter hurtling toward the unforgiving walls of the arena.

Yet, in a display of resilience, Krillin rebounded with astonishing speed, launching himself back into the fray. Caught off guard, Junior found himself on the defensive, gracefully evading Krillin's onslaught before striking back with a vicious kick. His foot connected with Krillin's torso with bone-crushing force, sending the hapless warrior soaring into the heavens once more.

As the battle raged on, I strained to keep up with the flurry of movements, my senses tingling with anticipation. But Krillin unleashed a surprise attack, a burst of ki energy illuminating the sky. As Krillin unleashed a blinding burst of ki energy, I dared to hope for a turning point in the fight. But my sanguinity was short-lived, shattered by Goku's frantic warning.

"Behind you, Krillin! It's a trap!"

Junior's trap was set, his hands clasped together as he unleashed a devastating blow from above. Krillin plummeted to the earth below, the impact shattering the arena floor with a sickening thud. I could almost feel the repercussions of his bones shattering.

The arena fell into a hushed silence, the once raucous crowd now eerily muted as all eyes turned to the fallen figure of Krillin. Despite the stillness that enveloped the arena, I could sense the faint pulse of his energy, a fragile thread that tethered him to consciousness.

As Junior descended to the ground, his malevolent chuckle resonated through the air. Behind the mask that obscured my face, I clenched my teeth in frustration, my gaze locked on the scene unfolding before me.

A flicker of movement caught my eye.

A twitch, barely perceptible, signaled Krillin's gradual return to consciousness. And then, with a low groan of anguish, he stirred, defying the odds stacked against him, his resilience catching Junior and myself by surprise. Slowly, laboriously, Krillin rose to his feet. Junior's facade of superiority momentarily shattered by the unexpected turn of events.

"Krillin is back on his feet, brace yourselves for this fight is not over yet," the announcer's voice boomed, punctuated by the roar of the crowd. Despite his valiant effort, Krillin's strength waned, his body betraying the toll of the battle.

I watched as Krillin decided to stand down, his body battered and bruised, but his spirit unbroken. In a display of sportsmanship and respect, the decision to concede the match was made, with the announcer declaring Junior the victor.

I felt a rush of wind as Goku raced to Krillin's side, a silent gesture of solidarity and support. As I stood amidst the jubilant throng, my gaze shifted to Junior; his frustration oozed in the air. I watched in silent contemplation as he retreated from the arena, his aura crackling with untamed energy. It was clear that he wouldn't rest until his thirst for power was quenched, and the world trembled beneath his feet.

With the announcement of the upcoming match ringing in my ears, I decided to depart; I made my way toward the tournament building. It was time to strategize. With Junior's formidable power fresh in my mind, I knew I had to remember the containment wave technique. Lost in thought, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by a voice behind me.

"You poor soul, you must leave."

•◉◒☆◒◉•

Finished: May 12, 2024

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: 003 | 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬'𝑺 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬 NEXT CHAPTER: 005 | 𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳𝒀𝑺𝑻

LINK TO THE BOOK [WATTPAD]: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 If you're interested in stories like these, here is my 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[conscriptur]

@hvbris said "there's nothing you can do for me now."

He despised the fact the girl was right. What was there for Peeta to do as the girl was being sent off to fight to the death just as he did before the whole rebellion. It angered the blond that this new government still agreed with decision to create a new games that in the time of discussing it with the other Victors and Coin herself, he disagreed with the idea. His vote of no did not stand a chance against those that approved—Haymitch and Katniss, who inevitably had more sway than he could ever had based solely on the fact he was trapped in the Capitol whilst they spent their time working hand in hand with the rebels.

It may have been unfair, but the announcement after the induction of the new President had been enough for Peeta to throw distasteful words at the two other District Twelve victors. If they had chosen to turn down the idea of the Freedom Games, as they put it, then maybe it would have fallen just as Alma Coin did on the day of assassination. Matters only became worse with the decision to make the previous Victors that were left mentors for these new Games. It was just like the Hunger Games, they were now to be controlled into reliving everything through mentorship and watching the Capitol children murder each other. Peeta was sick at the thought.

The weeks leading up to the Reaping, Peeta had made himself sick nearly every day and outbursts in his home had become even more frequent. It was as if the sliver of peace that he had found after his hijacking had flown away like the dying wisps of smoke from a fire. There was no aid or comfort in Katniss or Haymitch, he blamed them whole-heartedly, far more than the other Victors. Did this all not begin to save the children forced to be slaughtered like pigs?

Due to the mentors now being for the Capitol children, Victors travelled to the remnants of the once pristene and beautiful place to sit as the names were called out and matched with a Victor accordingly. Peeta’s face had paled at the name called in accordance with his name. Cassia Snow! Not only had he spent months with the girl in the Snow mansion but he was sure she would be the number one target for all the other kids when they decided they were no longer scared and could fight. As it was, her family caused this all to happen.

Peeta was slow to meet with his tribute terrorized by the idea of sitting down with Cassia and prepare her for—for what? Death? Just as Haymitch had done for him. Though, he finally sat with her in this quieted room, alone from the other tributes and Victors. A good thing too as he would have had his hands around Katniss’s neck, the itch clawing at him as certain aspects of the room brought him back to his captivity. He had been well immersed in his dread until the silence between them was cut. And the initial anger of her words being correct was a throb against his temple.

Cassia’s words hit him with the pressure of guilt. She had to have know she was the desirable one to fall victim to death first. What her grandfather did to him, unreedemable, and yet he was tugged by something inside him to attempt to save her. “I can help get you out alive.” Peeta offered before further thinking of the difficulty of it. If sponsors were to be part of the Freedom Games like the games before, he could not picture her receiving any due to the extended hatred. “I’ll do what I can to give you an advantage in there.”

[shandidellamorte]

Aw shit! Here we go again! I absolutely HAD to write a story like this one for Jamie too! I swear these two are growing on me like fungus! Enjoy!

Jamie x your World Tour OC (any gender/sexuality you like~)

You're looking forward to training with Luke tomorrow. Maybe he'll kiss you again. Maybe you can even shower together. That thought excites you beyond belief. So much so that you don't even notice that you've caught the attention of some...unsavory individuals. One person alone walking the dangerous streets of China Town by themselves? At night? Easy target. They stay close behind until they find the perfect place to ambush you. As they surround you, you have to keep yourself from laughing. They look absolutely ridiculous. Just a bunch of punks with boxes on their heads. But when they had numbers..like they did now, they could easily overpower one person. Thanks to your training you could take on one or two..maybe three. Definitely not twenty. They close in, laughing like idiots. Thinking they're going to get a quick score. That's what they think.

"Really don't think I'm likin' these odds!"

You freeze. So does everyone else.

Who the hell said that?

You see nothing but a blur of yellow streak past you. You're struck speechless as you watch this guy start laying out the box heads. Try as they might to attack him, none of them can touch him. He's swift. Light on his feet. He dances around them, effortlessly dodging their attacks. You stifle a laugh when you see his long braid smack a few of his attackers in their boxy faces. He has the moves of a break dancer, easily dropping onto his side and spinning around, his legs knocking anyone who tries to get close to him off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground. Clearly they've had enough humiliation. They scramble off the ground and run away. He laughs. "So much for the mighty Canary Crate Gang! Can't even take out one guy!"

You can't help but snort. Maybe one regular guy. This guy was on a whole other level. He was...very impressive, as was that crop top of his showing off those very impressive abs. You shake your head. Why is your mind wandering like this? He straightens himself and takes a drink from the gourd tied to his waist. "Damn losers. You okay?"

"Huh..?" You then realize that he's talking to you. "Oh..yes, I'm fine."

"Shaken up, huh? Not surprised. Those bozos are good at that."

"I appreciate what you did. I could never take on that many."

"You a fighter?"

"I mean..I just started training a few days ago. I know some basics..that's about it."

"So you haven't discovered your own style yet. don't you worry..I'm sure a cutie like you can come up with one in no time~"

You haven't been confident in your own abilities lately, so his compliment is nice to hear. "T-thank you~"

"In the meantime, you can count on me, Jamie Siu, for protection~"

Now that he's right next to you, you can finally get a good look at him. He has a very handsome face. Beautiful, dark eyes, with red lined lids. A confident smile. Confidence that was well founded from what you just witnessed. He's obviously studying you as much as you're studying him. "Hm..with someone as adorable as you, I'm gonna have my work cut out for me~"

"Sounds like you think I'm not gonna be an easy job."

He shrugs. "Doesn't bother me. I'm not afraid of hard work~"

His wink makes your heart flutter.

"Why don't I start off with bein' your escort home?"

"You'd really do that? What a gentleman~"

"Nobody knows this town better than me, plus with me around..no attacks~"

That did sound like a major plus, and having a guide as good looking as Jamie didn't seem like a bad thing either. Living in China Town would be a lot more exciting with him around~

~END~

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

I have now started watching The Guardian, going into it mostly unspoiled. I mean, I read enough of the IMDB page to figure out which thing called "The Guardian" was the tumblr fave. My thoughts on the first episode below the cut.

I feel so much better about my faceblindness that the shadow guy also mixed up the dead girl and Lie Qian.

Calling it now that Professor Ouyang and his private research company will return as an enemy faction.

Zhoa Yunlan, you are petting your agent. You are stroking the butt of one of your subordinates. Yes, I know he's a cat a the moment and Shen Wei started it, but still. (Hopefully there is some Damn Cat/Zhoa Yunlan petplay fic on AO3? I will check when I am a few more episodes in.)

You know what, I think Guo (Newbie) is going to accidentally join Professor Ouyang's research think tank. And then end up spying on the SID.

Oh no, Shen Wei fell off a roof. How will he survive. Surely this is unrelated to the Black Cloaked Envoy who just showed up. And the fact that Shen Wei has memories from hundreds of years ago, and the Black Cloaked Envoy has been doing this for an unknown long while, must be complete coincidence. (I do like that he gets to cause spooky weather when does his off-screen costume change.)