#I cannot unthink it now

[kyanhere]

I was eating dinner when I was reminded of this scene from the movie and thought:

"Man.... Tintin can go to church with that on and no one will suspect that his actually dating and old sea dog"

And now I cannot unthink it

[neversetyoufree]

Alright. Okay.

So the entire time I've been reading VnC, I've been assuming that Noé is the sole known survivor of the Archivistes in a relatively normal way. I've been assuming that something happened to the Archiviste clan within Noé's lifetime, just before his human "grandparents" found him in the snow. Obviously I wondered about what happened—who slaughtered them if they were killed and what else might have happened if they aren't all dead as we've been told, but I never questioned the timeline. I assumed that the Archivistes must have been alive and kicking until recently, even if Noé's last remaining family was living in hiding from the rest of vampire society or something like that.

But. We don't actually know that that's true. We don't know a single thing about the timeline of the Archivistes' extermination other than what Nox says about them having all died "long ago." Noé is nineteen years old, and we have no idea how old Nox is. Could the fifteen to seventeen years between Noé's first adoption and the present day be enough to count as long ago?

This is Jun Mochizuki we're talking about. There is extensive precedent in her work (by way of Pandora Hearts) for characters turning up seemingly out of nowhere, often with no memory, and in Pandora Hearts, these cases never had a simple answer. It was always caused by the time-bending properties of the Abyss.

It is entirely within the realm of possibility for the rest of the Archiviste clan to have died years, decades, or even a century or more before Noé was found by his human grandparents. We don't have precedent yet for anything that messes with time in VnC like PH's Abyss, so I don't know how this could have happened, but I don't think we can fully discount the possibility. The outer bounds of world formula rewriting as a power are yet to be fully explored, so it's hard to say firmly that anything's impossible. There might be a way for Noé to exist in the present even if the rest of his clan was killed well over nineteen years ago (be it by PH style time-bending or by some entirely different mechanism).

It's still possible (and even likely) that the Archivistes died or disappeared less than twenty years ago, but it's not quite the concrete fact that I've been thinking of it as this entire time. It's entirely possible that Noé's backstory contains Mochizuki Timeline Fuckery, and now that I've had that thought, I can't unsee it. The author of Pandora Hearts going out of her way to say that her protagonist was found mysteriously alone and crying with no memory of how he got that way is. conspicuous as hell.

[imliterallyjustablackgirl]

What if I said that if Sydcarmy get an opsie baby it because Carmy has a shameful breeding kink and Syd is into it and just left, what if then

What if I said mating press.

What then

[sunnysart]

I don't care what 'canon' states, all the elves in dungeon meshi are women. The canaries, Mithrun, Thistle/Sissel? All of them!

[enstars-syndrome]

based on this song

yes, i accidentally went back into my nightcore phase. anyway

[farmergilesofham]

The Vanguard Swimsuit Calendar Fic, Part 3: Shaxx's Claymore

It was a very nice, bright morning in the Tower Courtyard. Little birds were singing in the trees, people were bustling not too hurriedly to and fro, and Lord Shaxx sat on a stool with his back to a stack of munitions crates, running a whetstone over his new Claymore.

Arcite was doing something on his datapad, emitting the slow drone of a Frame engaging their higher-processing systems. Most likely, it was the matter of recent Crucible donations, which had been flooded the past week due to Shaxx getting a bad cough and needing to call in the only person available at the time - Drifter. For some reason, that had brought people in droves, and the accounting was currently a nightmare because of this.

None of that mattered at the moment, however, as Shaxx sat in the early morning sun and continued sharpening the new blade.

It was a gift from the Dreaming City, sent on his rebirthday with a letter expressing thanks for the bow he had sent Mara Sov for Dawning the year before. A few trusted guardians assured him that the bow had actually seen some use, mostly by Petra Venj, who had given it her seal of approval. But this sword... it was a real beauty. Unlike the crystalline weaponry the other guardians in her direct employ had been bequeathed, the Queen had here sent out an agent to a place once known as "Damasc", to collect a special ore supposedly described in Golden Age material processing documents. Apparently, some of the finer swords in human history had been made there, so it served the Awoken Queen's needs to acquire the material for herself.

The effort still baffled the old Warlord. He had thought that having a bow specially-made and custom-fitted, engraved, and strengthened for field use had been perhaps a little more effort than a simple gift really required, but here he sat with the most breathtaking blade he had ever seen, made from materials once reserved for kings. Or Queens, as it were. Through a complicated process involving melting the ore down, adding just enough extra material, then repeatedly reheating and cooling the steel puck until it reached the desired consistency, the Awoken weaponsmiths had produced a sword whose straight blade looked like the sand at the bottom of a flowing riverbed, covered in delicate swirls of steel grain from tang to tip.

The crossguard was of the same material, threaded with gold and set with a ruby the size of Shaxx's thumb, blending naturally into a long leather-wrapped handle headed by a phoenix-shaped pommel, all with more gold and silver than he had ever seen on any one weapon other than the tacky nonsense Calus had kept foisting on The Guardian, only here the filigree was far more tactful. Elegant, even. Tiny ruby eyes glinting up at him in the early sun, Shaxx kept sharpening.

Unlike most guardians' swords, it was not heavy - the blade, seen from its side, could not be much thicker than a centimetre, if that. Light as a feather in his Titan hands, the sword remained rigid, flexing only a little when used. Some sort of Awoken magic had gone into its creation too, judging by the delicate runes scrawled - ever glowing - on the fuller of the blade. He lifted it now for a moment into the light, admiring the reflections on its surface before one particular mirrored form caused him to look to the side.

There, leaning against the wall, was the Guardian. Just smiling at him, soon splitting into an ear-to-ear grin.

"So, new sword, huh?"

Shaxx took his time replying. He couldn't seem startled, afterall - he had a reputation to keep up! Instead, he set the sword across his lap again and gave it a few more swipes with the stone, before wiping everything down with a dry cloth and standing up. The fact he towered over the Guardian didn't do much to help the giddiness of seeing them again today. It wasn't as if they'd been gone long - only about a week - but the Crucible Handler couldn't be happier to see them again. Although, something about that mischievous grin worried him.

"Ah, Guardian. Ready to see what the Crucible has for you next?"

"Ehhh, that can wait." The Guardian stepped closer. Arguably somewhat closer than was acceptable between folk who were ostensibly mere acquaintances, but with nowhere to step back, Shaxx definitely didn't mind.

"I actually wanted to ask you something, Shaxx~"

This was absolutely not the way to talk to a Tower higher-up, especially not with that breathy, sultry voice, nor the fact that the Guardian now stood so close to Shaxx that they were almost touching. All that said, it was a very happy coincidence that the new shipment of munitions crates formed a wall around the two lightbearers, shielding them from the view of all but Arcite, who was still busily typing away on the datapad.

"I was wondering... would you mind doing something for me?"

"Once more unto the breach."

"I-- what?"

"Don't worry about it. What would you like me to do, dear?"

The Guardian just looked at him for a few seconds, as it dawned on Shaxx what he had just said.

"I MEAN, er, what would you like me to help you with, Guardian?"

The ten-time God Slayer just smiled, placing a hand on Shaxx's chest. Undoubtedly against protocol, but Shaxx merely stood there slowly breathing, waiting for an answer. And he would wait until the mountains ground down to dust, if necessary. No more getting strung around like a donkey on a leash by this lightbearer.

It took him a moment to realise the Guardian had spoken, and suddenly he felt extremely grateful for the helmet on his head to hide the heat rising on his cheeks. A cooling fan whirred to life in the helmet, and Shaxx wanted to scream. The Guardian laughed, a clear note that rang across the Courtyard as they said:

"I asked, Shaxx, if you'd mind being in a swimsuit calendar for me. The Eliskni Quarter needs more funds, and this is a reasonably good way to fleece the other guardians for funds."

"Oh."

A second fan clicked to life, though Shaxx barely heard it. That first sentence kept reverberating in his head, ballooning out of all proportion. They wanted... what? It was about another minute before he realised that the Guardian had spoken again, the ghost of a laugh already dancing across their eyes and lips.

"If you're too nervous, that's alright. Wouldn't want my darling Crucible Handler getting too flustered around Saladin and Saint-14, hm?"

"Wait, you're convinced Saladin to do this??"

"Uh, yeah, my guy. You know how cool I am, and anyways he agreed pretty quick when I mentioned how it was all for charity."

Shaxx stood dumbfounded, marvelling at his Guardian. Convinced Saladin... to do this? How? so many questions bubbled up, but stamping them all out he instead said:

"If they're doing it, then I'm definitely going to. Mark my words, I will outpose every other person there!"

"Good. So it's settled then?"

"Yes, I'll do this for you. But you have to do something for me, now. It's only fair."

"Oh?"

Shaxx leaned in, and whispered something in the Guardian's ear. They giggled, giving his helmet a kiss, before stepping back to a more respectful distance. "Alright, darling. But we'll meet at the tea shop next door first, okay?"

"Absolutely. We'll need the sugar and caffeine. I've heard those films are terribly long."

"Ha! Yeah, that's alllll we'll be doing that night. Nothing else~"

The Guardian gave one last giddy wave before slinking away, probably to go bother somebody else. Shaxx stood where he was for a while, absently rubbing the spot on his helmet where he'd gotten kissed.

Arcite, meanwhile, had heard and watched the whole exchange, and was just sending out a system message proclaiming that the Crucible Handler would not be available for around 12 hours that week, on account of taking a short break.

---

It was a very good thing that Shaxx hadn't inquired further into the Saladin situation, as the Guardian's traipsing soon became a saunter, and then merely a walk. It was going to be a nightmare convincing Saladin to take part, but there was nothing else for it.

For now, however, it was time to go visit the next potential victim: Ada-1.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

End of chapter 3. I hope you enjoyed reading. I fear I may have gone a little too in-depth on the Nameless Sword lore, but I do love talking about swords.

Tune in next time to see how, if at all, the Guardian manages to somehow rope Ada into this mess. It may not be the way in which you expect :)

[hsmtmts-arrows]

yk how people go like "i can fix her" ???? yeah well galaxy really said "oh well i can make her SO MUCH WORSE"

JUMP FUCKING SCARE GET HER FUCKING AWAY FROM ME BEFORE I PUNCH MY LAPTOP SCREEN

[axter]

thinking about how the narrator is basically both aziraphale and crowley depending on the mood he's in at the moment

[junuve]

today junuve wrote:

648 words

All on NWK Club! Fixing up chapter ends/beginnings in the first few chapters so they flow more seamlessly (which amounted to wrestling with cave johnson's characterization. i stg i have completely lost my ability to write him…) that sort of thing. Also spent time in the back half of the fic writing and tweaking the death scene. Yes, the major canon character death scene. It has to be the most eloquently written part, obviously.

favorite new segment: the PARTICULAR knife-twist at the end of aforementioned character death scene. I can't share it of course, but it hurt a lot to write. one of those good ol' too little, too late things… but just so I can include a quote, take this unrelated, ironic thought: As his assistant helped him down the stairs, all Cave could think about was how he really should have installed those ramps. But it didn’t matter now. It was too late to go changing things.

[angstyshippergremlin]

I know rationally that "May Queen" by Heather Dale is totally Lancelot pining for Guinevere, but the lyrics can totally be read as Lancelot pining for Arthur. "We love each other, he and I... a brother's love, he'd say". I read this as Arthur being oblivious." Plus in a previous line, he refers to Arthur as a "beloved friend". Sure, Lance. Suuurreee.

Then there's the fucking chorus:

"And in that moment I understood how he could love her

And what they shared would never be for me

I understood, but yet I've never really conquered

That part inside that wishes it had been me"

Like, how else am I supposed to read that? Lance totally wishes Arthur had chosen him. We could've had an Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot polycule, guys. Or...maybe fucking Mordred messed with the polycule and that's really why Camelot fell. Just, holy fuck, if Lancelot and Arthur were lovers before Guinevere, that could explain so much of the shit that happened.

I need to lie down for a bit

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

oh boy. just read a book and came out of it like "ok but what if I wrote fic about this secondary character-"

[samiraehab]

‎‏🚨Urgent🚨

🚨Help my family and I to evacuate Gaza and stay safe.

‎‏Hello, I'm Samira from northern Gaza.

‎‏My family, consisting of seven members, and I are currently displaced Rafah area in the south .

‎‏We are now in a small tent, very scattered, with no safe place, and my elderly parents need medical treatment, which we cannot afford.

‎‏We only have unhealthy food. Everything we had was destroyed by the occupation, My family’s home and my job.

We no longer have hope for living a safe and happy life. After losing hope, intense frustration, and great sadness as a family who hopes that we live in healthier environment and a life we deserve , we decided to leave our country and travel to start our life from scratch outside Gaza so that we can live a happy and safe life so we can ensure secure future with a happy life in which there are no wars, hunger, fear, displacement, and heartbreak.

However, I will not be able to do that without your assistance and support. Don’t make escaping from Gaza impossible

Every dontation will help me and my family to survive.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

[jester-step]

“yay the bad kids can spend all their downtime doing mystery and relaxation rolls now that academics are out of the way!!” all i’m hearing is that murph has the opportunity to make riz’s arc this season even more heartbreaking as he continues to pour all his energy into mystery and helping his friends bc he simply cannot let himself relax or he’ll Die

also i have a feeling that murph is saving that rage token for a juicy plot/character moment and part of me hopes the npc he’ll mess up his relationship with is jawbone :) can you imagine jawbone finding out riz stole klck’s file from his office and, not realising that riz is this 👌 close to snapping, (rightfully) gets a little mad at him and riz bites back WAY too hard? and jawbone has to deal with the fact that, even though he had a right to be angry, he’s screwed up his chances of helping the one kid he’s been having so much trouble reaching?

the only thing worse than this to me would be riz snapping at his mom (unthinkable) or one of the bad kids (life ruining)

[qrowscant]

LINK ROT / TRANSMISSION 001 / APRIL 3rd, 2024

Link Rot is a multimedia webserial following those within a research station. Once dedicated to the study and containment of a newly discovered life form, complications arise following its unexpected merge with the station's AI. TRANSMISSION 001 - In which you survive the unthinkable, and the world is worse for it.

General warnings can be found in the 'About' section. Any videos will have flashing warnings if applicable.

additional rambling under the cut

wow!!! it's been (checks archive) almost exactly a year since i originally conceptualized Link Rot, and since then it's grown into a beast of a story i cannot wait to tackle.

currently i'm aiming for updates once every month/month and a half (with occasional vacations to work on bite-sized projects). i'd like to do more, but i have a job and don't want to burn myself out. for now, i will take things slow B) maybe this will change in the future!

i hope you all enjoy reading my story as much as i enjoy creating it. there's a couple of hidden things on the website, so if you find anything fun let me know

and lastly,

take this

[thestuffedalligator]

The giant was in an iron cage that had once held an elephant in the menagerie.

Here in the dungeons, it was still too small for it to sit up in. It was lying on its side, knees drawn up to its chest, facing the opposite wall.

Gretta had been forbidden to see it. Well, no, that wasn’t right – nobody had even told Gretta that it was here. Her sisters and the staff of the castle had apparently been expressly forbidden to tell her, but Margit had a soft heart and told her the night before that they had finally caught the giant.

It stung that even her little sister had been told and that she hadn’t.

She didn’t sleep after that, and she spent the long morning looking for an opportunity to slip away. Now in the gloom of the dungeon, she stood in the entranceway and watched the slow rise and fall of the giant’s breathing.

She could feel the heart in her chest beating, a quick thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump that shook her whole body. Once upon a time the giant was a menace that had pillaged and ransacked the whole western coast of the kingdom. It was a story her mother had told her and her sisters and had made Margit burst into tears in the middle of the night–

“I know that heartbeat.”

Gretta froze. The words had been slow, and low, and had made pebbles on the stone floor shiver.

Chains started to jingle together. “That is a heart I’ve not heard beat in three long years,” the giant said as it started to turn in its cage. “I’d know it anywhere.”

The giant settled on its other side. In the low glow of the dungeon’s torches, its grin gleamed like rubies.

“Hello again,” the giant rumbled. “Do you remember me?”

Gretta swallowed. She remembered–

She remembered being lulled to sleep as the carriage rocked on the highland road. She remembered the door being pulled off its hinges with a shower of splinters. She remembered the grey hand as wide as a wagon wheel reaching out to her–

She remembered waking up with a long, delicate stitch along her sternum.

Her hand reached unthinking to feel the long scar under her shirt.

“Yes,” she said. “You’re the giant who put its heart in my chest.”

“I missed the sound of it. It’s beating fast, so very fast.” The ruby grin flashed again. “Are you frightened of me?”

Gretta stared. Then she set her shoulders and turned her chin up to a haughty angle. “I’m not frightened of an animal in a cage,” she said.

The grin vanished. “Fine,” it said. The chains rattled again as it turned to stare up at the ceiling.

“I want to know why you did it.”

There was a very long, thoughtful pause. For a moment she was worried it wasn’t going to speak.

“I’m sure you guessed,” it finally rumbled. “The queen did – she only caught me to confirm what she already knew. A giant cannot be killed while its heart is outside of its body.” Another sound of metal as it shrugged. “Other giants bury their hearts or hide them in an egg in a duck in a well in a church on an island. I wanted something more… certain.”

��And that’s why you chose me?”

The giant was silent. The heart in her chest continued to beat, thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump…

The giant sighed. “It was never meant to be you,” it said. “I meant to grab the seventh daughter.”

Gretta blinked. “Margit?”

“Oh yes. Sweet, simpering, insipid Margit, who still sings with the birds and cries over baby animals. The kingdom would’ve had a conniption over having to kill her to kill me – if they did, it would be such a heinous death that they would remember it for generations in song and story. And I would’ve gotten my immortality either way.

“Instead I got you.” The giant looked back at Gretta and gave her a look of such contempt she nearly reeled. “You,” the giant said again, and she had never heard the word said with more disgust. “Who cares about you.”

“Excuse me!”

“Sixth of seven daughters,” the giant said. “Not the eldest, not the youngest, not even a proper middle child. An extra. A spare. Worthless, except for maybe an interesting marriage.”

“You have no right to–”

“They’ll just kill you.”

The dungeon was suddenly deathly still.

“They won’t be happy about it,” the giant continued, turning to stare at the ceiling again. “They’ll be very somber and austere and I have no doubt that Margit will cry over you, as she does over all little animals about to die. But they’ll say that you’re more valuable dead than I am alive, and so for the sake of the kingdom you will be given the noble task of dying. And that will be the end of us both.”

Gretta opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. She opened her mouth again. “Is that it?! If you’re so sure, why don’t you – why don’t you break out of your chains? Ransack the castle? Run back to your mountain, do something?”

“What an odd thing to say,” the giant said. “You know that if I live, I can escape to murder and pillage and ransack again. Surely, any good princess would want only the best for their people.”

Gretta said nothing. The heart in her chest went thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump…

She could feel the giant’s grin. “The queen had me captured so she could confirm what she already knew,” it said. “It seems to me that you’re here to do something very similar.”

Halfway up the stairs from the dungeon, Gretta ran into her mother.

Gretta stared. Her mother blinked. Gretta considered her options.

She set her head at a haughty angle. “I know you caught it,” she said.

There was a very long, thoughtful pause.

“What did it tell you?” her mother asked.

Gretta looked at her mother. She looked at her mother’s hand on the hilt of her sword.

She felt the beat of her heart go thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump.

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she said.

She ran away that night.