#Man's just like “Ooooh I've seen so many of these”

[orreanintrepidness]

He isn't even phased by the sight, actually. Everyone else can turn away, but him? No. No he won't. That's just a normal sight to him. In fact. Alistair has seen, created, far worse.

[creative-kny-fics]

I want to apologize for the person who asked me for the fic that I will show below. I was editing it and it was posted by mistake, it wasn't ready and in a panic, I deleted it. I ask your forgiveness 😭

Ler: Tanjiro Kamado

Lee: Muzan Kibutsuji

'Mr Kokushibo, you truly are amazing! I didn't know you could do so many tasks at the same time!'

'Thank you, I wish everyone would see it that way. But no problem, where do you want me to leave this box?'

'What do you mean by "I wish everyone looked like that"?', Kamado crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Michikatsu just shrugged and tried to justify himself by saying it was a lie, but Tanjiro knows when you're lying, so there was no way he could be fooled.

Even though Tanjiro insisted, the older man did not give in and once his "social work" was finished he retired and left the young man alone.

'It's not right that your boss or other people appreciate your work...' 'What did you expect? That's how grown people are Tanjiro, plus it doesn't seem like that guy cares enough to do anything. If it were him, I would have given up a long time ago and sent them all to hell.'

'Zenitsu! That's very cruel! Maybe he has his reasons... Mmmm, I know! I'll brighten his day by bringing him some desserts! They're sure to make him smile!', Zenitsu shook his head in disbelief and sighed, there was nothing he could do after all.

After a huge controversy over what dessert he should bring, Tanjiro finally opted to bring him some sweet breads, a few mochis and a huge slice of cake, it had to be enough.

Now the challenge was where he could find him, he didn't know where he worked, so that was the next mission.

'I wish I had spent more time with him to ask him where he worked... It's almost half a day... Half a day... Ooooh, I know where he goes to lunch! It must be there!'

But nope, the place Tanjiro went to didn't give him the answer he was looking for, this was harder than he thought.

'Is something wrong with you young man? I've seen you go around the street about 7 times. Are you looking or waiting for someone?'

'In fact yes, I'm looking for someone... But I don't think you know him... Anyway, thank you for your concern sir...?' 'My name doesn't matter now, little one! Why don't you tell me who you're looking for? I know most of the people in the city, maybe I can help you with something', well, there was nothing to lose, was there?

He turned around, the guy was a little tall, with blonde or silver hair, he couldn't be seen well because of the sun, but anyway.

He told him everything about the person he was looking for, this in case he didn't know his name or something similar. 'Oooooh, I know who you're talking about! I didn't know Kokushibo-Dono had friends at school hahaha!'

'Do you know him?! Do you know where he works?!'

'Sure, I'll tell you, but don't tell him that I was the one who brought you... His boss might get upset with him hahaha', Tanjiro agreed.

As they walked, Tanjiro was thinking seriously, was Mr. Kokushibo's boss so bad to bother just because he is friends with a child?

He shook his head, if he kept thinking about it he was going to end up kicking his boss and he didn't want any problems.

'Well, it's here, I hope I've helped you. Tell him to take good care of himself and that I hope to work with him again...'

'Thank you very much sir! Here, I'll buy you something to eat! It's the least I can do for helping me' 'No thanks little one, I'm sure Kokushibo-Dono eats too much hahaha. It's nothing, see you!'

Well, it was moment of truth, it was curious, there was no receptionist or anything similar, now who could he ask about where his office was?

'WHAT THE FUCK IS KAMADO TANJIRO DOING HERE?! HE'S GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING IF HE SEE US HERE!!'

'SHUT UP KAIGAKU!! We have to think... We are not going to achieve anything... We have to hide and SHUT UP or he will find us'

'And now what's happening to you? Kaigaku, if you're in trouble again don't expect me to save your ass...', Kaigaku shook his head and dragged Michikatsu to where the trio was.

When he looked out, he realized the young man's presence and sighed, leaving and covering his mouth as he dragged him to his office, luckily no one had seen them. 'What are you doing here kid? It's no place for you to be here, mainly, how did you find me?'

'I had help! And to answer your question, I brought you some desserts because I thought you...-'

Tanjiro's mouth was covered again, someone was approaching and it didn't seem to be anything good.

'KOKUSHIBO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! I ASKED YOU TO DO ONE THING AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT?!'

'Sorry sir, I'm coming right now. I got distracted by something' 'I'm not surprised, you're a distracted idiot sometimes', Tanjiro's patience ran out.

Despite Michikatsu telling him not to go anywhere or go out, Tanjiro did it to confront the adult, he was not afraid after all. 'That uniform...'

'Why are you acting like that?! Mr. Kokushibo tries his best and you should appreciate it! Don't yell at him!'

'Don't fuck with me, I don't have time to deal with brats like you. My head hurts so I screamed, I'll apologize, satisfied?'

Naaaaah, the way he said it didn't convince Tanjiro at all, so he came out from under the desk and stood in front of him with his arms crossed.

'Look kid, I don't know you, I'm not interested in knowing who you are and so on. So do me a favor and leave already or else I'm going to... AAAAAHAHAHA!!'

'LEAVE MR. KOKUSHIBO ALONE!!', do you believe what you just read?

Don't be scared my dear readers, Muzan is not ticklish even in his nightmares, and if so, why is he laughing?

Hasn't it happened to you that someone pinches you and instead of hurting you, it makes you laugh? Well, that's more or less what happened here. That "useless" squeeze probably also contributed to him laughing, but anyway, no one understands that man.

'Why are you laughing?! I'm hurting him!!' 'Yohohour stuhuhupihihid attehempt is whahahat mahahakes me laugh... You should...'

'Sir, I already brought you the files, where do you want me to...?', Michikatsu dropped his papers, why?

Well, it's not every day you see a kid kicking Muzan in the balls, so it was something new.

That inclusive blow hurt Michikatsu, who intervened and moved away, even knowing that it could cost him his dismissal. 'Sorry about that sir... By the way, here's the bill for your order...'

'Oh, sure, here you go young man and something extra for bringing you here'

'Thank you, see you! I hope you get better soon sir!', Tanjiro skipped away before disappearing.

You can imagine the scream that Muzan gave for having been humiliated by a child...

But hey, at least, Kamado definitely achieved his goal, he made Kokushibo smile.

[haunted-xander]

When she came too, she was in a bedroom she's never seen before. Her chest felt heavy still from her actions the other day, but having had proper rest helped her keep her mind steady. The door opened and Nagito came in and sat on the edge of the bed. "You're finally awake! What a relief. I was beginning to worry you'd die in your sleep!" His voice was soft and calm, betraying no emotion. Oh, Komaeda-kun. That's right... I did find him, didn't I? I'm glad... He seems okay. "Nanami-san, I'm so happy I could see you again! And to think even someone like me could help you in your time of despair! I could just-"

"Don't bother her so soon after waking. Her mind is still shaken, she needs peace." A dull, monotone voice cut off Nagito's ramblings as a man she hadn't notice come in leaned against the now closed door. Kamukura-kun... So he's joined Komaeda-kun now? Better than Enoshima-san, I guess... "Ah, of course. You're right as always, Kamukura-sama. My apologies, I didn't mean to overload you so quickly! I was just so excited... Haaahahaha~ the amount of hope that'll be born from your journey... I can't wait to see it~" Nagito wrapped his arms around himself and started shaking and drooling, all while breathy laughter escaped his lips continuously.

...Komaeda-kun's kinda easy, huh? He gets super excited so quickly... She looked back to Izuru and noticed his blank expression had shifted into slight exasperation. If he's working with Komaeda-kun, he probably deals with this all the time... He doesn't seem too annoyed though. "...Komaeda-kun... Where are we?" There were many questions she wanted to ask, but she thought it best to start simple. "We are in an abandoned house Komaeda and I have been using for some time now." Ooooh, they're roomates. Wonder how that happened. "...Nanami. You have more questions. Go ahead and ask." Izuru made a face that made it clear he knew exactly what she was thinking, but made no move to correct her or explain the circumstances. Huh. So it really is like that. Didn't expect Kamukura-kun to actually indulge Komaeda-kun like that. Cool.

"...Well, why did you help me, Komaeda-kun? You're also..." Hesitating to say it out loud, she trailed off instead. "Brainwashed? Despaired? I am aware of my situation, Nanami-san. Unlike the others, it appears I've managed to keep some hold of my mind. It is quite hard to tell what's my own thoughts and what is her influence, however..." At the mention of that girl, his face grew dark and his tone harshened considerably. "Oh yes, her... Junko Enoshima... The person I hate... and love... the most of all... I want nothing more than to see her dead..." His eyes spiralled with mania as he started shaking uncontrollably. Unlike previously, this didn't seem to be from excitement. He was rapidly coming undone. "Huh...? Do I... hate her...? Huh? Huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh-"

"Stop that." Izuru grabbed his face, snapping Nagito out of his spiral. "How boring. Your mind is strong enough to resist her brainwashing, yet awfully weak to the thought of that boring girl. I much prefer you with your mind intact." He leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. ...Is he gonna...? I guess that'd help snap Komaeda-kun out of it, but is that really appropriate right now...? "Ka-Kamu-Kamuk-kura-s-samaaaaa... I lo-love youuuuuu... I hate y-you............" Nagito began rambling about nonsense until he passed out and ended up falling backwards onto Chiaki,s legs. Is he okay...? I hope this isn't a common occurance... Poor Komaeda-kun... At least Kamukura-kun is here to take care of him, I guess... "...It seems the questions will have to wait until later. Rest, Nanami."

"...What about Komaeda-kun?"

"I will take care of him. He will be fine." Without another word, he picked up Nagito's unconscious body and left the room. Chiaki decided to go back to sleep for the time being.

+ A bonus!

[novantinuum]

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Rating: T Words: 5.4K~ Summary: In another world, a young girl awakens right beside the resurrected hero, fearful and disoriented. Outposts are left to ruins, her brother’s mind is in tatters, and they’ve barely seen a soul traveling these lands since they first emerged from that cavern… What happened to her family? What happened to her Hyrule? _ (An AU retelling of Breath of the Wild, focused on the growing bond between an amnesiac young man who must relearn how to be both champion and brother, and a lost little girl who must find new purpose in the remains of the land she once called home.)

Chapter Summary: In which Link and Aryll share an audience with an old friend (or at least, someone who would be an old friend, if he could simply remember anything about his past...)

Hi! So, I've had a few chapters of this story on backlog for a long while, and despite not spending any time writing this fic lately (I've fandom hopped, LOL) I've decided to just post them so they can at very least be Out there. I hope folks enjoy.

__

Chapter Preview:

“This slate is missing a great many features,” she notes, turning the device’s screen to face him. “Y’see? No compendium. No images. Countless files, corrupted. A whole rune unaccounted for.”

He frowns. “But the king seemed to think I had everything I needed.”

“Pah!” she exclaims, practically rolling her eyes at the mere mention of the last sovereign of Hyrule. “That dusty old soul? He never truly gave a damn about this technology in the first place, what does he know? If you want the slate fixed, then I’d advise you visit my elder sister Purah, in Hateno. She runs a laboratory there, researching ancient Sheikah tech.”

His sister gives a faint ‘ooooh’ from her seat, apparently tickled by the thought of a whole lab full of advanced technology like this. He can’t help but crack a smile at her enthusiasm. And yet… he’d be amiss to deny that the mere notion of the unknown beyond this doorstep still burdens him.

His purpose here burdens him.

Why must this be his task? His duty? What’s so special about him?

“Which of these tasks should I accomplish first?” he asks, swiftly deflecting his thoughts away from the trap of self-reflection.

Ignore the why. The how. Focus on the what. Impa spoke of three different quests, three different paths forward. Beasts, sword, slate. Does it really matter which he pursues to start?

She shakes her head, declining to deliver him a direct answer right away.

“It’s your journey. Your choice,” she says. “My role in this world is not to dictate the threads of fate, but simply to offer information. Though if you truly want my advice—" she passes the slate back into his hands— “I’d suggest fixing this before you embark on the rest of your travels.”

[marmalade-draws]

I also LOVE analog horror!!! What’s your fave series? (And why, if you feel like u wanna explain)

Ooooh picking a favorite is so hard!!

Gemini Home Entertainment scratches so many of my itches, from the woodcrawlers to the living planet iris. It's such a shame the creator's computer exploded because the most recent mainline episode is everything I love about cosmic and analog horror

I'm obsessed with Mandela Catalogue's take on mimicry/doppelgängers and with the rewriting of a major religion from the perspective of the devil

I love Vita Carnis for the use of practical effects, it reminds me of the love I have for John Carpenter's The Thing

SPEAKING OF THE THING Greylock's most recent tape has some of the most impressive VFX I've seen in an internet horror series (iykyk)

And most recently I watched the Walten Files and man that one is just tragic as all hell

Out of all of these I would have to say Gemini is my favorite simply because it hits so many of my horror turn ons, but it really is hard to choose just one.

EDIT: I FORGOT POSSIBLY IN MICHIGAN I ADORE THAT SHORT FILM

[void-ink-studios]

Gala of the Gods (Part 1)

A few people suggested some stuff with Scarab and Nightmo, I've become obsessed with some of the art I've seen of these two in fancy clothes, so I'm going to combine the two.

Behold, my attempts at describing fancy clothing!

I am an artist as well, so if there's anything from this fic series you might wanna see me draw, just let me know.

Also, this is multi-parter! So y'all are gonna have to be patient.

Enjoy y'all!

Part 1 -You Are Here- | Part 2 | Part 3

Word Count: 2,200

Mail was not something Scarab expected when he first came to live in the Time Room. He figured anyone with something to say to Prismo would just take it as an excuse to show up and hang out for a while.

But, as with many assumptions he had, Scarab was wrong. Well, kind of.

The mail was never frequent, and it was almost only from the higher ups, but it had happened enough time with nearly missed important updates for Scarab to add checking the Time Room's make-shift mailbox to his routine.

And it was a good thing he did. Because they had mail. Fancy looking mail. And the beetle felt sick to his stomach when he began suspecting what this was about.

"Prismo! Mail! Letter from the Organizer."

Prismo made a rather undignified noise as he snapped awake from where he was dozing off in his hot tub.

"The Organizer? Ooooh, is it that Gala thing?"

"I suspect it might be. It's addressed to both of us, shall I read it?"

"Knock yourself out, Lovebug."

Scarab rolled his eyes a little but smiled regardless. He broke open the seal and unfolded the letter.

"To the Wishmaster and his assistant,

You are both cordially invited to the bicentennial Cosmic Gala. Attendance is compulsory, however you are not required to stay for the duration, should your godly duties require you to return to your posts.

The Gala will be hosted in the Judgement Hall, and will begin 340 time waves from now.

You are expected to be on your best behavior. There will be no physical altercations within the Judgement Hall. Please leave any and all grievances with coworkers at home. Snacks and drinks will be provided.

We look forward to seeing you there.

-The Organizer."

Scarab had suspected for a long time that that last paragraph was pointed at him specifically. It's not like he started fights, it's just gods get aggressive at him for doing his job.

"Oh, I haven't even thought of the Gala... Man, a lot has happened since the last one..."

Scarab clicked in agreement. Then was struck with a sudden thought.

"Wait a moment. How are we meant to attend while in this form?"

Prismo raised an eyebrow. "Have you never seen me attend before?"

"I always left early. I made excuses that my job as Auditor required my attention, so I arrived as it started, stayed for perhaps one Time Wave so my boss could see I showed up, then I left. It's not fun sticking around a party where no one likes you."

Whoops, that came out more bitter than he had meant... It's not like he minded not attending more of the party, parties were never his scene to begin with...

Or, was that another thing he convinced himself he didn't like so it wasn't being taken from him?

Hmmm...

"Well, you can come with me this time. We'll stick by each other's side. I think you'll look nice on my arm, Lovebug."

Scarab's mandibles snapped up.

"O-On your arm... Are you suggesting we attend as... as a couple?"

"I-I mean, if you want..." Prismo looked uncharacteristically flustered, smiling nervously at the beetle.

"I think... I think I would like that, Prismo. But, you still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, yeah, the form thing. Well, how it works is the Organizer gives us authorization to make copies of our corporeal body that we can inhabit. Like ghosts or some deal. They last for a few days, and then we get returned to the wall."

"Our... corporeal bodies..."

"Yeah, it's pretty much the only time I get to exist as 'Old Man Prismo' and not cease to be me. I think it's pretty neat. And you get to be taller than me for once."

Scarab barely responded to that, a far away look on his face.

"Can we... modify these bodies at all...?"

"I mean, you can make them look different colors, I guess, or make yourself look younger but why do you..." Prismo's expression filled with sadness. "...You can't restore limbs, if that's what you're asking. I'm sorry, Scrabby."

Scarab sighed. "It's... fine. It was worth asking."

He made a few clicking chirps as he thought.

"...I suppose I should dress up for once? If I'm attending with you and lingering longer?"

"I mean, you could. I like to, since I don't get the luxury of clothes very often, and I'd rather not show up to a Gala as a naked old man. But it's not like you have to."

Prismo watched Scarab's expression. He was deep in thought, that was obvious with how much his mandibles were twitching. Then, his expression lit up.

"...We can conjure almost anything in the Time Room, yes?"

"I mean, anything not sentient, pretty much."

"Hmm... Would you mind if we arrived separately? I think I'd like to... surprise you. You know the lobby outside the Judgement Hall? Wait for me there. I will meet you there."

Prismo was intrigued, to say the least. "A surprise? Just for me? Well, let's do it then. I'll wait for you."

"Perfect. Thank you, love." Scarab nuzzled his cheek sweetly. Prismo giggled, returning the favor with a soft little kiss.

"I can't wait to see what you come up with, Scrabs. I know you'll look gorgeous."

Scarab's elytra clicked as he purred, smiling softly. He'd been doing that a lot more recently. Prismo decided to take pride in the fact he's made the unflappable Scarab smile and blush like a goof.

The days leading up to the Gala were at the same time quiet and buzzing. Scarab was very clearly cooking something up, as he had carved out a little room in the basement that Prismo was explicitly forbidden from entering.

If you had told the Wishmaster he'd be okay with Scarab, of all gods, having a secret room he's not allowed in in the Time Room, well... well, you'd be given quite the strange look, that's for certain.

"Scrabby! Can you come out of your lair for a moment?"

"For the last time Prismo, it's not a lair, it's a work room!" Regardless of the terminology of whatever was going on in Scarab's little private room, the beetle acquiesced and emerged into the main chamber. "What is it?"

"Our uh... Bodies are here."

It was always just mildly upsetting to Prismo when they just... appeared. It unnerved him to see his own sleeping body at the best of times, but seeing it completely still, not even breathing, was... strange.

"Ah, okay. Is it almost time for the Gala then?"

"We have I think 3 More Time waves before the party officially starts, so we should probably start getting ready now."

"And how long are these good for?"

"Uhhh... I think 50 Time Waves?"

"Why do they stick around so long after the party?"

"I don't know, actually. Maybe they're being nice?"

"I've never known the higher ups for being... Nice. Regardless, how does this work?"

Prismo stretched his arms a bit, examining the two empty shells on the ground. "Don't worry, it's easy. Alright, so all you've gotta do is touch it, and imagine yourself waking up. It's not super nice feeling when you first wake up, just as a warning. Watch."

Prismo slid across the floor, positioning himself completely covering his body, and closed his eyes. He felt himself fade, almost like he was disappearing, but sensation quickly returned as he jumped into his body. He pulled in a gasp of air, everything tingling as his senses caught up with him.

"Prismo? Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah..." His voice sounded dry. He needed some water. He ran fingers through his long hair and beard as he sat up. "See? Easy."

"Are you certain you're okay?"

"I'm fine. It just... takes a minute for me to adjust. I'm not 3d very often." Prismo laughed it off, but it didn't stop him from holding a hand over a now beating heart and breathing lungs. "Your turn."

Scarab hesitated, looking between his body and Prismo. Slowly, he crawled over, letting himself overlap with the shell. The blue shadow faded, the body shooting up into an upright position, breathing heavily.

"Oh, that felt wretched..." The beetle could only describe it as similar to that falling sensation one has that jars them awake.

Scarab looked as he flexed his own fingers, claws lightly clicking together. It felt... strange to be in a body like this again. His senses buzzed. He felt the weight of his shell for the first time in months. The weight of his mask...

Slowly, he rearranged the mask to tuck behind his head. He would be going to this party as himself. Proudly.

"Heya gorgeous."

Prismo had scooched a bit closer, taking advantage of new senses to hold his love for the first time in a 3d space.

Scarab's breath hitched. He was not prepared for how... warm and soft Prismo's touch would be. He had gotten used to the Wishmaster's touch in their wall forms. But... touch in the third dimension... gentle touch, touch not meant to harm him, it was... new. Alien. His mandibles thrummed as he leaned into the hold, purring, claws experimentally touching the soft, coiling gray hair nearly covering his partner.

Prismo, meanwhile, was fascinated. He explored the texture of Scarab's shell and face. The fine grooves separating the plating reminded him of polished armor. But it was warm, alive, he could feel the beetles muscles moving underneath, the thrum of blood and life. And his pink face, while prickly at the edges, was soft to cradle.

"There you are... That's my pretty Lovebug. Look at you..."

Scarab preened under the touch and praise. He was beautiful. Prismo made him believe it.

"I must say... I think you're quite lovely in this form as well."

Prismo's cheeks flushed a lovely pinkish red color, Scarab chirping in pride. He nuzzled at him, marveling at the feeling of it with a physical body.

"I'm going to go get ready, Prismo. I'll meet you at the Judgement Hall lobby."

"Alright, Scrabs. I'll be looking for you."

The bug purred one more time before sequestering himself in his mystery room once more.

Prismo chuckled as he himself got ready.

Brushing his long, unruly hair was a task in and of itself. He pulled part of the mop into something a bit more elegant, a waterfall of gray tied neatly with a pink and gold ribbon falling down his back.

Prismo wasn't much for formal clothing, but he did like robes. Something soft, light, breathable. And had amassed quite the collection from these Galas in the past. He did like his pinks and golds, but who could blame him? He liked how he looked in them.

The robe had layers of color to it, a light pink similar to his shadow form on the inner most layer, slowly shifting out into a dark, rosy red. There were imagery of gold eyes and hands cascading down the back and sleeves, giving way to constellations and stars on the long skirt that dragged a little on the floor.

He accessorized with bracelet and rings and necklaces and pendants until he glittered like the stars. That was always his favorite part of these events, the accessorizing. He wasn't one to care much about looks, but he did enjoy making himself sparkle.

He looked into a summoned mirror, checking everything from head to toe. His golden orange sash was tied nicely, his sandals looked good, everything was in place. Perfect.

"Scrabby, I'm heading out now! I'll see you there, Lovebug!"

In lieu of a proper response, he heard a loud chirp echoing from down in the basement.

Prismo couldn't help but be curious about what Scarab was doing. All the more reason to be excited, he supposed.

In a rainbow of fragmented light, Prismo deposited himself outside the lobby of the Judgement Hall, other gods already milling about and conversing.

"Prismo! Sho-Hoot man, I always forget how nice you clean up for these events."

The Cosmic Owl flew over to him, dawned in a cloak of gold and silver feathers of starlight. Death also joined him, in a simple, but sharp looking white robe. In the distance, Prismo could spot Life, in a beautiful flower and coral dress, chatting with some other gods.

"Aw, thanks. You two look nice too! It's nice you got to bring Life with you this time, Death."

"We both needed the night out."

"Where's Scarab? He's coming right?"

"Yeah, but he wanted to arrive separately. Said he wanted to surprise me, so I'm indulging. He wouldn't even give me a hint, man."

"Well, consider me intrigued."

The three chatted for a while, Life soon coming to join them, after giving Death a peck on the cheek of course.

"And then the dude just... just tried to pluck one of my feathers out! Like for a good luck charm or something. Do people not get that dreams aren't physical?"

"I don't know, man, people just don't know how to act around you, I guess," Prismo chuckled. He was about to add on, when the doors opened, and a hush fell over the lobby.

Prismo looked toward the entrance, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"...Sho-Hoot, man."

And in walked Scarab.

[zephtheduck]

Stuff I've heard at school: Part 15

He didn't lose a braincell he lost the entire brain

So throughout the game he kept going 'you don't want my chunky dick?'

I do not care about your bowl movements

No one cares about your asshole

Strawberry twink

He would taste like strawberry mochi

It would look like someone exploded

P1: Those tasted like my gandmas house

P2: why are you eating your grandmas house

P1: "My grandpas not dead. The other one is, but this one isn't"

P2: "Give him time"

Teacher: yeah that's right! lower your head in shame! lower! lower!

Student, doing a walk of shame for overdue work: any lower than this and I'll be crawling!

Quebec French just, SOUNDS like they're cursing you out

This guy's hiding the fact that he, like, ties a kite to his phone

I was just going to say he has really child bearing hips

P1: "Debrah (a rifle gun) would be happy"

P2: "What's debrahs beef with me"

P1: "She doesn't like you because you've used her one too many times lol"

P2: "…is that a terrorist joke?"

P1: "yeah"

P2: "haha okay cool just checking hahaha"

Please lets refrain from calling teachers twinks

P1: "Guatamala"

P2: "That says Gujrat"

P1: "Guatamalaaa"

P2: "I guess I'm guatamalan now? lol"

P1: "Yeah you're guava"

P1, to P3: Yeah, well, I'm not Indian P2, distracted by his phone: You mean Indigenous P1, gesturing to P3, who is Indian: No I mean Indian P2, not looking up: Yeah, the proper term is Indigenous P1, aggressively gesturing to P3, who is waving awkwardly: No, I mean INDIAN P2, finally looking up: OHH! I thought you were talking about Indigenous 'Indian'! My bad, my bad.

what the hap just fuckened

P1: "Drank perfumes?"

P2: "What?"

P1: "All I heard was you went to bath and body works to drink perfume"

Do you know how balls deep I need to be in a story to be effectively begging my screen to kill off a character?

That is the sauciest look I've ever seen someone give me

Because when they're going out to no-mans land that what they're thinking, 'I want a really nice tank, very visually pleasing tank, I don't want that Mark One'

"Yo, FUCK him I'd smash his mom"

+ "Yeah and after we're done I'm going to look him dead in the eye and say 'I fucked your mom'"

P1: "Thank you for violating my (oc) characters"

P2, in an uncomfortably eager voice: "I can violate them even more if you want"

"It's the cummie water from school" sips "oh yeah, that is cum"

"Where did you get these genes from"

*looks down at his jeans* "Old Navy?"

"and he goes 'My body is my resume!' and takes his shirt off, and I showed it to my manager because I had no idea what to say"

They literally pickled a baby! (in reference to Ares mythology)

You can either be gay or funny, choose one

I identify as out of this-world

The G in LGBT stands for God

OoOoh, I don't know what I did, but I am learning SO MUCH.

Dionysus is his tumor then!

This is my tumor, he's a drunken little shit who we decided to banish to earth for a while

Blowjobs, for anyone who isn't a sex worker, should be called blowhobbies

What do you call two Jewish stoner in a car? A gas chamber

It's not because you're a rabbit, it's bc you're black!

I inhaled a piece of cheese and it won't get UNINHAILED *coughing*

Who needs their liver anyway

We're the testicles

Why did you give me that look? You look like a child seeing their father for the first time after getting the milk

UM NO. I think that's YOU little miss toe-socks

Even your writing looks dyslexic

Lycan we're both failing math, I don't need this right now.

Reverse racism, but not like, in a racist way

Wow, you even SOUND dyslexic

[practically-an-x-man]

For reasons unknown, an immortal beast has been dropping off random trinkets at your ancestral home for generations. They're all kept in storage; nobody dares throw them away. Today instead of a trinket, the beast leaves a note with instructions on it.

Tweak this one as you see fit. Maybe Octavia? Dunno. Do what sparks your imagination!

Taken from here if the link works...

Ooooh I've actually got a neat idea for this one....

Thank you!!

____ Years Ahead

Word Count: 2.7k Content Warnings: none? mentions major character death but not in a violent way

____

The boy peered at the doorstep. He didn't spot the trinket for a long time. He was looking for something bright, something shiny, like so many of the other trinkets were shiny, and this... wasn't.

Finally he spotted it, a folded piece of old paper half-tucked under one of the flowerpots on the front stoop. Carefully, he tilted the pot enough to snag the paper underneath, and gingerly unfolded it.

It was a photo: in color, glossy, but faded with time. It looked like the photos the boy had seen on the walls of his grandmother's house - they still stuck to paper, instead of the screens and projections he had in his own house.

The photo showed a cluster of figures, dirty and bloodied but grinning at the camera. Some of the figures were... odd, not quite human, and it made the boy wonder where this picture had come from.

He folded it back up and took it inside. His mother had warned him, repeatedly, not to get too involved with the trinkets. Nobody in his family knew who sent them, only that they'd been arriving on the doorstep almost daily for close to a century. There was a heavy oak trunk in the attic, big enough that the boy and his father could both curl up inside and take a nap, full to the brim of these little trinkets.

The boy tossed the photo onto the pile with the rest, looking at the odd assortment of trinkets in the box. It didn't make sense: Roman coins next to animal-bone jewelry, rolls of camera film stacked on top of shark teeth and bullet casings. It was like their mystery gift-giver had raided a museum. Half the items looked like trash to him, useless, but his mother forbade him from throwing anything out.

"Did you check the stoop?" his mother called out, from somewhere below him.

"Yeah!" the boy shouted back, "It was a photo! I put it with the rest!"

He thundered back down the stairs and raced to catch the bus, and that was the end of that.

____

The next day, there was a shiny silver medal on the stoop. The boy picked it up and carried it upstairs, like all the rest, but something made him curious. He snagged the previous day's photo and turned over, poring over the figures in the shot.

There. The tall man in the center of the picture- he had the same medal clipped to his chest. And a gun slung over his shoulder. Military. The boy didn't know what it meant, but it felt like some sort of clue.

He spent the rest of the day rooting through the chest of trinkets, separating any items that caught his eye. He didn't find any more clues there, though he nearly cut himself on a small, slender blade at the bottom of the trunk. He nearly gave up there. It was a fluke, these two items in a row, or their mystery gift-giver just happened to steal from this military man and give out what they found there. The boy had wondered repeatedly if they were a thief. It was the only way to explain how they got all the trinkets.

His mother called him down to supper. He was nearly to the stairs when he remembered the stack of photos.

"Just a minute!" he shouted back down to his mother, rifling through the photos as quickly as he could.

Sure enough, the same man popped up in almost all of them. A few of the others did too, here and there, but none with as much frequency.

Well, almost none.

The man had his arm around them in almost every single one of the photos. Smaller, shorter, sharp-eyed but smiling, and always with a weapon in their hand. And as the boy flipped through the pictures, one right after another, he noticed something else.

They didn't age.

The man next to them did, little by little. His hair, already on the pale side, went thin and gray. Lines appeared on his forehead and cheeks, crinkled around his eyes when he smiled. The boy had no idea the scope of the photos, how many years were represented, but he could see that quite a lot of time must have passed between them.

And the person standing next to him did not change. If the boy looked closely, he could see a few new scars on their skin, or shifts in their expression over time, but they didn't age like the man next to them.

Immortal. Or close to it.

He knew who was leaving the trinkets.

The boy ran downstairs and tried to explain this all to his family, but they didn't believe him. No, not quite - they might have believed him, but they insisted he not push this any further. He didn't need to know who was leaving the trinkets, they said, and trying to investigate might just make them angry. If this really was some sort of god, the last thing they wanted was to displease it.

He said he understood. He said he wouldn't search for any more clues. He said he would let the immortal leave their gifts, and he would put them in the trunk upstairs, and that would be it.

He lied.

____

That night, once his parents had gone to bed, he snuck out of his room and crept down to the front stoop. He intended to stay there all night, armed with a two-liter of caffeinated soda he'd stolen from the kitchen and his fluffiest blanket wrapped around himself to ward off the nighttime chill. He was determined to stay awake, and catch this mystery gift-giver in the act. He held the photo and medal clutched tight in his hands.

Hours stretched on, and even the soda couldn't help him hold off his tiredness. It just made him have to pee. He was glad his mother didn't catch him doing it in the bushes. She'd be furious.

There was no sign of the gift-giver, nor anyone else. The night was dark and silent around him.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he noticed was sunlight spearing into his eyes. His head hurt, probably from all the soda and lack of good sleep. And he hadn't even caught a glimpse of the person he was looking for.

But his blanket had been tucked around him a little more soundly, and in his hands, alongside the medal and photo, was a note.

Stop looking for me.

There was no signature. The words were written in dark ink, simple and blocky handwriting. He was half-convinced his parents had written it for him, the same way they'd masqueraded as Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy for so much of his life.

The boy had to hustle back inside before his parents could realize he'd spent the night on the stoop. He got dressed, brushed his teeth, ran off to catch the school bus like it was any other morning. The note burned a hole in his pocket the whole way.

He didn't show the note to his parents. When they asked about the morning's trinket, he grabbed a random object from the trunk upstairs and presented it to them. They couldn't tell the difference.

That night, he tucked a few of the photos - all showing the military man in the center of the shot - under the flowerpot, alongside a note of his own.

Who is he?

The boy didn't expect a response. But the next morning, he found another old medal from the US Army on the front stoop, alongside a small scrap of paper.

You remind me of him. Stubborn. Stop looking for me.

That was the only explanation he got. It confirmed something in his mind, though - the immortal from the picture, the one the soldier always held close to his side, was the same one who'd been leaving his family these little trinkets for decades.

He left them another note.

Why do you leave my family these things?

That one was accompanied by a handful of items from the trunk upstairs. He picked them at random. In the morning, they were gone.

Would you rather I take them back? Stop asking questions.

He thought about that one for a long time. On the one hand, he didn't want them to take back what they'd given - mostly because it sounded like a threat, and he didn't want his family or their home to get hurt because of it. Maybe he was getting too curious for his own good.

But on the other hand, they'd responded to every note he left. They could have been silent, kept leaving wordless trinkets or no trinkets at all, let him think they didn't understand English or didn't care or weren't human at all. But they responded. So maybe they did care. Just a little.

That night, he decided to voice his thoughts.

Why would I stop asking questions when you keep answering them?

Answering was more than a little generous. He still didn't know anything new. If anything, he had more questions than he started with. But why would they respond at all if they didn't want him to ask more questions? He had the strangest feeling that, whoever this person was, they liked the back-and-forth of it.

But maybe he'd pushed things a little too far with that last note. They were silent for a whole week after that. No more notes, no more trinkets. Even his parents started to get suspicious.

Just as he was ready to give up, when he debating not checking the stoop at all after so much silence, there was another note under the flowerpot.

You built a fort in the woods when you were ten. Meet me there. Next Sunday at midnight.

He'd definitely pushed things too far. This was how kids got abducted. He was a smart boy, but even a stupid boy would know not to walk into the forest at midnight and meet somebody they'd never met. He didn't even know this person's name, or if they were who they said they were. The only proof that they were the immortal in the pictures was that they'd been leaving trinkets for a hundred years, and no normal human would be able to do that.

But he wanted his questions answered. He wanted to see who it was.

He thought about telling his parents. This was starting to get scary. But if he told them now, they'd shut this whole thing down. And if this was the immortal person in the pictures, if they did know who that military man was, this might be his only chance to find out.

He didn't tell them just yet. He just left another note.

How do I know I can trust you?

The response was on the front stoop the morning after, alongside a carved statuette the size of his thumb. It looked like a lion, carved of some rough off-white material that might have been bone.

You don't. I'm a very dangerous person. Your family has always known this. There's nothing I can say that would reassure you otherwise.

But if you want to see me face to face, that is where I'll be.

He debated it for days. Logic told him not to go. Instinct told him he would be fine. He wasn't sure which one he trusted more.

____

The next Sunday, the boy found himself walking through the woods. He still remembered the path to his fort, though the darkness made every tree look alike. Once or twice, he thought he saw the gleam of animal eyes reflected in the light of his flashlight. Every so often, a stick cracked from somewhere off to his left. He felt like he was being followed.

He wasn't unarmed. He had a knife clutched in his hand, the same small blade he'd found in the trunk weeks before. In his pockets were a collection of firecrackers he'd found in the garage - hopefully they would prove some distraction if this really did turn out to be dangerous. He'd clipped the medals to the front of his shirt, just because. They made him feel a little braver.

He approached the fort, silhouetted in the darkness. His eyes strained for light, looking for any figure or flash of movement. So far, he saw nobody.

"You have my knife."

The voice came from his left, and he chucked the blade as hard as he could in the direction of the voice.

It struck their shoulder, hard enough to make them stagger back a step. Calmly, as if they were in no pain at all, they pulled the blade from their shoulder and turned it over in their hands. The wound sealed over in moments, leaving behind only a rip in their shirt and a wash of blood down their arm.

"Not bad, kid."

"You're the one from the picture." he blurted, the first thing that popped into his head. Because they were - the same sharp eyes, the same freckled-spotted skin, the same dark curly hair. Now they had no weapon, and most of their scars were covered by their long-sleeved shirt, but their face was familiar. He'd been looking at it for weeks.

The boy rustled in his pockets, pulling out the picture they'd left before - the group photo, where they all looked young and healthy, with the soldier and the immortal and the human shark and all the rest. Now it was obvious they were the same. They hadn't changed at all, though he wondered what had happened to the others in the photo.

"This one." he said, holding it out to them. The person took a step forward, and the boy unconsciously matched it with a shuffle back. He didn't want them close enough to grab him. He still had that much sense. The other person stopped where they stood, tilting their head at him.

"Yes." they said, "That one."

"You're... you're a god?" he guessed, his other hand fiddling with the firecrackers in his pocket. He had a feeling they would do very little, if this person wanted a fight. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. Maybe he shouldn't have investigated.

"Not exactly." they responded, "I've just lived a very long time. You've heard of my kind before. Metahumans. Amazons."

"Like Wonder Woman."

That made them grimace, just a little. If he hadn't been watching them so intently, looking for any flicker of motion, he would have missed it.

"Yes." they decided, "Like Wonder Woman."

"Why do you keep leaving things on the doorstep? My grandpa says you've been doing it since before he was born." the boy asked. Little by little, he could feel his fear starting to trickle away. He still was wary, he still didn't let himself relax, but he was becoming convinced that this person wasn't here to hurt him. They still hadn't moved from their spot, and their hands hung loose at their sides. One still held that little knife, but it was a casual grip, like they'd forgotten it was there.

They were silent for a long time. The boy shifted on his feet.

"I made a promise, a very long time ago," they finally answered, dark eyes still frozen on the photo in his hand. They looked sad. They looked like they'd been sad for a long time. "I promised that I would protect your family for as long as I could. I promised that I would keep you safe. The trinkets are a sign that I'm still here to watch over you."

"Did he make you promise?" he asked, pointing to the man in the center of the photo. Another low wash of grief passed over the person's face.

"Yes," they said, voice choked, "Yes, he did."

"Who are you?" the boy couldn't help but continue, glancing between them and the photo in his hand, "Who is he?"

"My name is Eris." the person responded, looking at the picture with dark, sad eyes, "The man you see is your great-great-grandfather. He was... he was the only man I ever loved."

[irusanw4]

Gonna listen to every single Jhariah song in his music playlist on youtube. Thoughts on them as I go. This might be rather repetitive lol

Debt Collector was very funky. It got me wigglin in my chair

Needed a Change of Pace is fun, I like its vibes. I like the whoa thingy in the chorus a lot it's very satisfying. Also the visual effects are odd /pos!

Knives Are Dangerous, Kid, So Cut The Theatrics starting strong. OOH THE SECOND VERSE SOUNDS REALLY NICE. OOOOH. I'm loving the sound of this a lot. Ok song over that fucked hard

PRESSURE BOMB!!!! time! Jaw dropping 480p pahsduiohasdjasd! Oh man this looks so cool and sounds really funky! BOY UR HAIR S ON FIRE ok no moer ig. Why are there so many zppers on his pants. Chorus osunds soooo nice ::) I like the way it swings back and forth? If that makes sense. I'm also done fixing my typos. OOOOH what's this..? MARCHING BAND BEHIND HIM AND THE MARCHING BAND SOUNDS OOOOOOOO nooooo not ur scooter ::(!!

SPLIT! is that chonny jash reference. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH IM LOVING THIS ALREADY. OK THIS IS AWFUL CCCC OF HIM BUT ALSO IT FUCKS SO HARD! Is that braille. OOUGH PRECHORUS ILY! AUGHHHHH CHORUS STABBING ME I LOVE THE WAY THE WORDS ARE SAID!!!!!! Dude these lyric videos are so creative?! Ok that was AWESME

Whose Eye Is It Anyway??? I've heard good things about this one I think. TEH WAY MY JAW DROPPED AT THE CHORUS?!??!?! Is that French. THE WORDPLAYYYYYYYY ILY WORDPLAY ILY WORDPLAY!!!!! ok so we're 7 songs in and ww might be losing his place as my second fave artist when I'm in a cj mood??? OUGH CHORUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could def see myself getting into a specifically Jhariah mood from what I've seen!!! That song was AWESOMES!!!!

To Take For Granted. It/its and they/them pronouns fire emoji fire emoji fire emoji!!!! I like the instrumental in this first part! Ooooooh this is getting funky /vpos! Ok this took a few but I'm liking it a good bit now ::3! OUGH WHAT IS JHARIAH I JUST INSTANTLY TEARED UP AND MY JAW DROPPED AFTER THE SONG CAME BACK IN!

Not So Bad, it's seeming funky. sorry i'm still reeling from the end of to take for granted lols. like this one ::3 thinking I need to take a break after song 10 so I don't die of awesome music tho

The Great Tale Of How I Ruined It All is starting super strong I love it so far! I like how he pronounces words, even when I only process half of it I can usually figure out what the syllables I struggled with are from a little logicing out ::3. Oooooooooooh DUDE THIS IS SO GOODS???? I HAD TO TAKE A SECOND TO JUST LISTEN NO TYPIGN OUGH THE DELIVERRY FOF THE LINES this is??? OUGH! I love this song for sures

And now I take a break from Jhariah so I don't keel over dead. This'll resume after I've had some stimming time.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Naval Treaty pt 1

A four parter? Ooooh, exciting.

The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases of interest

I officially have no clue when we are. The timeline is a time spirograph. We're just going to pretend that time doesn't matter, okay? Because clearly ACD didn't care about it at all.

[The Adventure of the Second Stain], however, deals with interest of such importance and implicates so many of the first families in the kingdom that for many years it will be impossible to make it public. [...] The new century will have come, however, before the story can be safely told.

I feel like I have seen behind the curtain or stolen a biscuit from the tin without anyone knowing about it.

During my school-days I had been intimately associated with a lad named Percy Phelps

The evolution of language once again championing queer readings of text.

On the contrary, it seemed rather a piquant thing to us to chevy him about the playground and hit him over the shins with a wicket.

Oh those schoolboy shenanigans, what games, what japes we played! Like... *checks notes* beating a young boy's legs with wooden sticks. What fun!

I know attitudes have changed and yadda yadda but 'intimately acquainted' suggests you were friends but beating his legs with wooden sticks because his uncle was a lord - even if he was a tory - doesn't seem like friendship. Were you friends or did he just try desperately to appease you to stop you from hitting him with sticks?

'I have no doubt that you can remember “Tadpole” Phelps, who was in the fifth form when you were in the third.'

There is no way in which I can find to make 'tadpole' a nice nickname. I assume it's because he was younger than most of the people in his form because he was advanced two years for being smart. I assume that's actually the basis of a lot of this bullying.

'I have only just recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever, and am still exceedingly weak. Do you think that you could bring your friend Mr. Holmes down to see me?'

That feeling when you're recovering from a serious illness and you have to contact your childhood bully because it turns out he's now bffs with the only man who can help you.

There was something that touched me as I read this letter, something pitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes.

Seriously? Seriously? Now you're going to pity him. Watson... Watson, you're on thin fucking ice right now.

“You come at a crisis, Watson,” said he. “If this paper remains blue, all is well. If it turns red, it means a man's life.”

Another tantalising glimpse into a case we are not privy to. ACD does like these. He did it at the start of this story with The Second Stain as well, although we know he did eventually write and publish that one, because we've seen it.

"You are the stormy petrel of crime, Watson."

This is such a perfect phrase. I love it. I have nothing else to say about it, but I needed to share it.

“But the writing is not his own.” “Precisely. It is a woman's.” “A man's surely,” I cried. “No, a woman's, and a woman of rare character."

Once again, Holmes' supernatural ability to identify a person almost completely only from their handwriting comes to the fore! And Watson is so convinced it's a man. This is such a weird argument, but I've definitely had weirder with my friends, so who am I to judge?

...we were joined in a few minutes by a rather stout man who received us with much hospitality. His age may have been nearer forty than thirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merry that he still conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous boy.

I don't like him. Whenever someone in these stories is overly jovial, they turn out to be a dick. Or maybe it's the fact we've just seen what Watson considers the acceptable behaviour of mischievous boys. I just don't like him. Maybe I'll be wrong. Maybe I'm just overly suspicious and cynical. But the vibes are wrong.

“Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket,” said he. “For a moment I thought you had done something clever."

Yep, don't like him. Rude.

A young man, very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofa near the open window...

So weird to refer to your old chum as just 'a young man' and not by his name. Like you didn't recognise him, when you claimed to be so intimately acquainted. How strange.

“How are you, Watson?” said he, cordially. “I should never have known you under that moustache, and I dare say you would not be prepared to swear to me."

I was just saying...

She was a striking-looking woman, a little short and thick for symmetry...

What does that even mean? How can thickness have anything to do with symmetry? Or shortness for that matter? I feel like I am missing something.

OK, so we've got a young man, his fiancee and her brother. As mentioned, I do not like the brother and I do not trust him. So far the fiancee herself has given me no reason to distrust her, but then neither has her brother. I just think he's sus. Guy's too happy, you know what I mean? I bet he's trying to discredit his future brother-in-law in order to scupper the marriage so he can keep his sister's fortune or something like that. Men in these stories do seem determined to stop female relatives from marrying.

Or maybe he's just a jovial man and I'm being paranoid.

He probably murders puppies.

That might be too far.

Nope. I'm right. He's evil. I refuse to hear otherwise.

[feekins]

oh. I'm beginning to experience Hoppered Feelings 🥲 all that and more here in my thoughts and things and whatever translation weirdness I find as I re-read ch 5 of Trigun Maximum vol 4!

(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)

okay. oh man. Hoppered is hitting different this read-through. with the Overhaul's translation, I feel like I'm getting a greater sense of just...the depth of Hoppered's grief and how that's crystallized into such immense, vengeful rage. how fitting, then, is the Overhaul's title for this chapter: Wild Crying Bullet.

Dark Horse's title? it's "Crying Wild Breed" I'm not even joking 😆

both translations are roughly the same for this first page (Dark Horse's being "The remaining Gung-Ho's -- Zazie... Midvalley... Hoppered... Who's there?! Someone's coming...?!" - so, again, the Overhaul's translation is more explicit/nuanced). what I find interesting is that in neither of them does Wolfwood count Legato among the "remaining" GHGs. so I looked back and in ch 1 of Trigun vol 2, Legato does specifically say (paraphrasing here - both translations have basically the same thing) "Soon, twelve assassins will come to hunt you down." I tallied up the GHGs in both the anime and the manga, and in doing so, I realized the numbers track with what Legato knows of the GHGs. I guess, for some reason, I've always mentally categorized Legato with the rest of the GHGs, hence my initial confusion.

that brings up another interesting point: Wolfwood does not seem to be aware that 12 is the GHG magic number, so to speak. He's only counting Monev, E. G. Mine, Dominique, Leonof, Hoppered, Midvalley, Gray, Rai-Dei, and Zazie (but what about Wolfwood himself? lol idkkkkkk). so. yeah. THAT'S interesting. 🤭

(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)

here's where Hoppered's story starts hitting harder for me this time around - "Since that day...I ceased to be human." that line alone is so compelling to me - there's this crushing amount of grief and rage to it.

Midvalley's cold professionalism rly comes through in the Overhaul's translation here!

this bit has always confused me. looking at the context, I get what Nightow/Dark Horse/the Overhaul is putting down...but I feel like I'd get it better if I could understand the onomatopoeias in that top panel 😅

(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)

two things I wanna note here:

① to me, "been improved" reads as more passive - like things were done to him - while "made many improvements to become" implies a more active transformation for Hoppered - like he consciously and willingly did these things to himself.

② while I prefer the Overhaul's translation...I do like how poetic Dark Horse's choice of "inside of my head"/"my body" is =u=

...interesting discrepancy, coin VS coins...

...and with the second panel, again, the Overhaul's translation is more straightforward. both basically say the same thing, but...idk. the Overhaul's feels more clear and intuitive to me =u=

Dark Horse's translation kinda has Milly connecting Wolfwood with Hoppered (and Midvalley? and Zazie?) in terms of like...having the same drive. but in the Overhaul, we see this bit is more about Milly having this epiphany about just Wolfwood, and I like that - feels like that tracks rly well with how perceptive of other ppl we've seen Milly be.

ooooh Vash is. SO done. gets straight to the point in both translations.

both translations make sense in context here imo - but the Overhaul's gives you this sense that Hoppered is well aware of how Vash prefers not engage in armed combat if he doesn't absolutely have to, which I think adds more dimension to Hoppered seeking revenge, picking up on these bits of info over the years!

in Zazie's opinion, Knives isn't the kind of person to fight for anyone but himself.

as someone who very much enjoys all iterations of Knives, I must say THANK YOU!!! SO MUCH!!! FOR INCLUDING THIS DETAIL, OVERHAUL!!!!!!!! 🤩🤩🤩

[creative-kny-fics]

Hii!

Can I request a Lee!Zohakuten with any ler?

(When I say any I mean any. It could be like Gyutaro or something for all I care)

pls

.if not just ignore this!

Ooooh, I like this one! Sorry it took so long 😔

Ler: Rui (LowerMoon 5)

Lee: Zokahuten (UpperMoon 4)

The appearance and age of the demons was very confusing. Some looked at an age that was not correct, others were at the age at which they became demons and others, despite their advanced age, looked so young...

'I didn't know that Muzan-Sama had turned another child into a demon...'

'A child? Oh, Zokahuten? Hah! He only has the appearance, he is an old man', Rui raised his eyebrow in question.

Really? He knew that Akaza was one of the few "honest" demons, but, Hazotuken, that's what he said his name was, right?

No, wait, Zokahuten, yes, that's what he said, anyway, that demon looked young, he looked like a child. And if he wasn't, why was he wearing some kind of bib?

'Oh, Hantengu-San's age?' 'I thought his name was Zokahuten'

'Hehehe well little demon, he has many names! His BDA is amazing, don't you think? It can go from one to four! But, oh right, the question, if I'm not mistaken, he is around 400 or more years old, yeah, something like that, I hope that helps you!'

'Thank you, Douma-Sama...'

Well, that left him more doubts than answers. What did he mean by "go from one to four"? Did he multiply or divide? It was strange...

You will surely say that, for a demon, those questions are irrelevant, but remember that Rui, internally, is still a child, and like every child, he is curious, what did it matter if he was a demon, physically and, in part, mentally, he was an infant

Rui's curiosity about Zokahuten grew, it was something strange, maybe he was drawn to his appearance? His BDA? His distance from the others? Who knows, maybe it was everything.

'Kid, may I know, why have you been following me lately?', wow, that was fast.

'Well, it's just that, I've never seen you, I think, are you an UpperMoon?'

'Yeah, although maybe you haven't seen me because the real emotion is an old man crawling and I only come out when he requires protection'

'So, you're like some kind of older brother?'

'Eeeem, sure, whatever you say kid'

Rui's eyes sparkled, a brother who is willing to protect? It was a genuine bond, definitely, although, on second thought, wouldn't they be the same person?

'Hey, kid, what's wrong with you?'

'Stop calling me kid, I have a name and it's Rui.'

'Well... Rui... What's wrong with you? It's not like I care but, forget it, it's not worth it'

Record your words well Zokahuten, because when you least expect it, that will change.

'How did I end up here? How fucking annoying, damn it, I don't know if Karaku or Urogi were the ones who agreed to this, but I don't like it anymore'

'What's wrong with it?'

'Nothing. Now, if you don't mind... GET ME DOWN'

Oh yes, a tender moment (in quotes) between "brothers", of course, it wasn't exactly something enjoyable, but it was fun.

Since he became a demon, Rui discovered that he had a taste for being up high, he liked it, he felt so powerful and had an incredible view, childish things.

'It's okay, you can get down, anyway, I've already seen the landscape for a long time', finally, thought Zokahuten.

They got down, but Zokahuten felt, bad? If you could say it, he couldn't explain it, he felt a hint of remorse, damn, it was surely Aizetsu...

It didn't make sense, he was a demon, why did he feel that way? Although of course, he's a demon of emotions, oh fuck.

'Eeeeh? What are you doing?'

'Carrying you, isn't it obvious?'

'And what's the reason for that?'

'You stay quiet and I'll keep carrying you or I'll put you down and you can talk all you want. It's your choice brat', hey, treat the kid right.

Rui felt comfortable, it was comforting, he wasn't going to lie, he felt calm, he felt protected...

Few demons had managed to make him feel that way, as a human, he never had a brother or sister, but once he became a demon, he felt that, not with his spider family, but with some of the demons.

'Thanks, erm, I don't know what else to say, you took me by surprise...'

'Yeah yeah, shut up, if you say anything else I'll throw you out'

'You don't seem to mean it...'

Zokahuten growled, he wasn't going to deny it, he wasn't heavy, he was calm, he was used to the fights of the 4 clones and he felt it more like a release from not having to take care of a group.

Rui smiled and looked at him, he didn't know if he had seen well, but Zokahuten's horns were, red?

'Your horns, have changed color?'

'What? What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you talking in the first place? Shut up, I'm not going to deal with it.'

Well, who could resist touching them, how did they turn red? Were they somehow related to his feelings?

Wow, Zokahuten had more secrets and Rui wanted to find out. 'He-hey!'

'Does it hurt?'

'N-no, but i-ihit feels we-wehehird, your fingehers are co-cohold, don't do tha-hahat you damn brat,' yep, Rui definitely wanted to keep touching them.

Zokahuten couldn't do anything, in the first place, he didn't even know what was wrong with his body, why did he feel like that?

His horns were transmitting a desire to smile and laugh, how the hell was that possible?

'Ru-Ruhui..'

'You laughed? Wow, how strange. So you're ticklish?'

'Whahat do I ha-have? Don't tahahalk nonse-hehense, I'm not "ticklish", I don't e-eheven know wh-what thahahat is!'

'Me neither, but I've seen Daki and Gyutaro doing this many times, also Douma with Akaza, so...', well this was either weird or ridiculous or didn’t even make sense, how was this even possible?

First his horns are ‘tickly’ or whatever that shit is called, now, the UpperMoons also have the same reaction?

How inconceivable, and why the fuck did he allow Rui to keep doing this?! He didn’t like it, did he?

‘Ruhuhui..!’

‘Heh, the more you think about it, the more ticklish you seem to get, should I stop?’

‘Ye-yehehes! Uuuugh, what a strange feeling’, aha, yeah, ‘strange’.

Zokahuten sighed, but, internally, he wanted him to keep going? It wasn’t a bad feeling but, damn what was wrong with him?

‘They’re still red’

‘CAN YOU STOP LOOKING AT MY HORNS?!’

‘Do you want more?’

Zokahuten looked at Rui seriously and dropped him to the floor, calm down, Rui is fine, and Zokahuten, may have some problems, only if Rui decides to continue or chooses revenge.

[mychlapci]

If we are talking about arrays, may I offer array mods making a mech have two valves, or two spikes? Or tdicks? (there isnt enough! I look on ao3 and theres like one fic! Forget about fanart!) And there being arrays that are categorized as "nonstandard" because of how heavily modified they are, or bots who got rid of their array entirely to focus on spark play and pnp? I just feel like people dont have enough fun with arrays (hence why the pitcher plant pussy fascinates me)

I like to imagine cyclonus got srs to turn his spike into a second valve. Same with magnus, but he also turned both his nodes into tdicks at the same time. Kup strikes me as a two spike guy. Drift definitely has a tdick, as does Ratchet.

One thought ive had about a nonstandard array is the area being replaced with what looks like a drawing tablet. But upon plugging in, any touch is highlighted, and can shock you. Same with other erogenous zones. Electrostimulation grinding galore. Eat them out and have to get your whole mouth replaced due to damage type deal.

-piss anon

honestly transformers genitalia is something we can have so much fun with, and yet very few people actually get creative with it. and i get it, spikes and valves are fun enough already, but oh man. i havent seen nearly enough fanart, like i've seen some art of bots with two spikes, but i don't think i've seen art of bots with two valves, which is a shame because it's hot... maybe the fact that they even find having two spikes/valves practical can be an indicator of cybertronian courting systems, bc i've seen a lot of fandom enjoying throuples (me included), so these mods could either have gotten popular with these kinda relationships, or perhaps cybertronians have been living in throuples for so long their array naturally comes in many shapes (cyclonus' two valves are the perfect arrangement for tailgate and whirl, who'd gladly pound him into oblivion at the same time)... i don't think ive seen single fanart of tdicks on transformers thats so mean honestly. i'd like to think tdicks are a desirable aesthetic modification that many valves are just naturally endowed with. (i think drift has a modded tdick, but ratchet's valve came with it...). also, i've talked about this, but i like valves that are above the spike, so that two partners can penetrate each other at the same time...

also, heavily modded arrays yes yes yes. spikes that have been split to make it seem like there's two spikes, or reshaped to resemble tentacles or maybe some kinda crazy plant-life, valves that have outer mods (pitcher plant pussy pitcher plant pussy) and internal mods, i'm particularly fond of teeth inside the valve, both for protection and because some people like to get very wild with it (i'm thinking a bot with teeth inside their valve not being able to overload unless they bite down, and having to really search for someone who'd be willing to get their spike cut off). of course, there's various vibration mechanisms, ribs and ridges and thorns to enhance pleasure.

and ooooh no valve or spike at all. just a board with sensitive nerve endings that pulse with electricity when stimulated, a tongue brushing against it is bliss, but of course the other bot always gets burnt... yet again, people with this array have to really search for someone super dedicated who gets off on having their own array electroshocked...

[disasterbijamietartt]

So this link is somewhat nsfw, but I've just seen a gif set of a gay sex scene Phil Dunster did and it is giving me SO MANY thoughts, like just stick some bigger eyebrows on the other dude and we have Roy and Jamie. Also Phil Dunster looks absolutely adorable as always. its tumblr account gay-bucky-barnes / 715417859611918337 / man-in-an-orange-shirt-2017-part-2

Ooooh, "Man in an orange shirt"

I bought this on bluray for this scene specifically 🤣 (And it is so far the only scene I've actually watched, since the first half apparently is very sad🙈)

The other guy doesn't really give me Roy vibes, but yes, Phil is adorable as always (and very naked lol)

Someone on reddit actually thought that Colin's orange shirt was a nod to the miniseries. I'd prefer if they give a nod to this, that it is a steamy gay sex scene for Jamie LOL

(proper link for everyone)

[fatherramiro]

19, 21, 29? please and thank you!

thank you!!!

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

ooooh going to shake things up a bit and go from the next chapter of come home with me

Another tense silence descended over the room. Daniel sank down onto the bed in the room, exhaustion hanging heavy on his shoulders. Ángel wondered how many loops he’d endured, and if he knew that he’d die in the process of saving his wife and everyone else trapped. He knew very little about the man, even less than he knew about Dr. Franklin. But he was his only hope now. Daniel looked at Ángel. “Did she warn you about getting lost?” Ángel nodded. “I told her not to wake me up if it came down to it.” Understanding and sympathy flickered in Daniel’s eyes, along with a renewed determination. “We’ll wake him up. You have my word.”

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

Yes in a way - I definitely have scrapped fic concepts/saved them for later or a different fic after spending hours on it. Mostly because I just know that it isn't something I can truly do justice to in that moment and I want to make sure that if its a concept I like that I can find a place for it that serves it better!

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

This is a scene from a now deleted draft of chapter four of though my soul may set; I've been working on finding a better way to continue the plot than this particular opening. Under a cut for length!

“You have to believe me.”

Daniel had long since grown tired of saying those words. He’d grown even more tired of no one listening.

At least with Eyk Larsen on his side, things had become marginally easier. It hadn’t been easy, at first, to convince the man of what was happening. Daniel still wasn’t happy that he’d had to use Maura as a way to convince him. Observing them through the loops as they grew closer and closer hurt, but at this point, there were few options. Once Ciaran realized Maura was awake — and certainly he had by now — he would do as much as he could do damage both the Prometheus and those still trapped in the simulation.

The only passengers who were left were the sleepers themselves. Daniel surveyed their faces in the wake of the others leaping from the ship to their deaths. All of them looked terrified and exhausted, and Daniel’s heart ached for them all. No matter how many times he endured the loops, his empathy never wavered.

Elliot stood at his side, and Daniel longed to comfort him. His son had returned to him the day before, re-appearing in the dining room and startling the passengers. Elliot had said nothing, just run into his father’s arms and held him tightly. He wouldn’t speak about what he’d seen, except to flinch away in fear from Sebastian. The other man had stared at him with unmasked hatred, and Daniel knew that any attempt at pretending they were on the same side was over. Sebastian had vanished in the wake of the passengers and crew jumping overboard, but Daniel knew he was most likely lying in wait to try and stop him once more.

The survivors were gathered on the ship’s bridge, and the absence of those they cared for had never been more pronounced. Krester, or rather Christopher, hovered with the family the simulation had assigned to him, and pointedly did not look at Ángel. Lucien was hunched in a corner, hands tucked into his pockets as if he could hide the tremors. Olek stood close to Yuk Je, as if they could speak the same language and knew who they were missing. All of them were watching Daniel with varying degrees of confusion and distrust.

It was Ángel who spoke up, as he had before. Without Ramiro here to balance him out, he was more prone to outbursts. “Believe what? That our world isn’t… isn’t real? You can’t honestly expect us to believe…”

“Then explain everything that’s been happening,” Eyk responded, voice harsh. 

Ángel scoffed, but said nothing in response. Daniel noticed how his face was pale and drawn despite his bluster. 

[cannibalcreepers]

You're getting so many hilliker asks and rightfully so but!! I'm here to annoy you with hills have eyes asks 🥰 what do you think Goggle, Big Brain and Chameleon would be like if they fell in love with someone? I can only see Goggle actually falling in love willingly but ya never know!

Love me some thhe bois, also ooooh a thhe 2 boi 👀 that's a rarity.

Should let you know I haven't watched it yet but I've got an idea on what Chameleon may be like (being as most the mutants are pretty much a basic bitches in the movies)

--------

Goggle: Is more for the lust than love, but can definitely reach the level of love, even if it's selfish love. Doesn't believe anyone would love him, no outsider that is, never really crossed his mind so it will definitely hit him like a wall of bricks if you decide to confess yourself to him. Though he seems timid, hidden away in the mountains, Goggle is still just as feral as the other clan members, so he will take advantage of any feelings between the two of you. It will grow into love though, more protective, more caring and desire than just lustful sexual wants. Will show how gentle and kind he can be, from sharing to holding but he's still very selfish and will coerce into things he wants, through manipulation under the guise of shyness.

Big Brain: This man doesn't believe anyone will love him, so he guards his heart and hides it behind sourness and cruelty, definitely someone that will take a lot of patience and determination to win over, especially dealing with his rude, hurtful words and threats. But if you somehow, someway melt this cold bitches heart he is oddly sweet, very power hungry and controlling, but sweet. In private that is. Around others he is just as vile as he usually is, not wanting to show he has gained feelings towards you, afraid it'll make him seem weak and everything is about control with Big Brain. So he can experience love, but he isn't a good lover (verbally/mentally) with his sourness.

Chameleon: Believes its love, but truthful it is lust he's experiencing and a carnal lust that has been warped into what he thinks is what love must be like, it's a warped view from what he has seen in picture books or movies, sometimes seeing it in how victims show it to each other. He thinks love is about him getting all the attention and just giving back physical affection, showing that who he is infatuated with that he likes their presence and will keep them alive but doesn't understand there is more to it. Also with Hades around, there is no chance he'll be brave enough to protect them from that brute. He's good to be around for a fun fuck, especially with that tongue of his, but you don't want a long-lasting relationship with a selfish man like him, unless you're willing to go through hell and attempt to 'fix him', but it's not Chameleon you need to watch out for.