#Regenerations 2023

[pixel3603]

Guys guys guys

I met him

He’s so nice he was in Narvin cosplay for most of the weekend

Whenever he explained part of his costume he did the voice it was really sweet and he knew me by name from twitter 😭😭 me and my mates hung out with him quite a bit actually? It got to the end of the con and everyone was exhausted so for like the last,, hour or so? We basically just sat with him and chatted bc we where all so tired 😭

[pers-books]

🌟 SALE 🌟 Celebrate Regenerations with UP TO 50% OFF on oodles of downloads! Offer ends expires 23:59 (UK time) on 25th September 2023.

Regenerations 2023

A selection of downloads featuring the guests at this year's Regeneration convention.

Download Bundles are available here:

Doctor Who: The Classic Doctors 2022 Bundle - 10 releases

Doctor Who: The Classic Doctors 2022 Bundle - 14 releases

Doctor Who: The First and Second Doctor 2022 Bundle

Doctor Who: The Third Doctor 2022 Bundle

Doctor Who: The Fifth Doctor 2022 Bundle - Forty 1-2

Doctor Who: The Sixth Doctor 2022 Bundle

Doctor Who: The Seventh Doctor 2022 Bundle

Doctor Who - The Companion Chronicles: The First Doctor Volume 1-3

Doctor Who - The Companion Chronicles: Jo Grant

Doctor Who - The Early Adventures: Series 06

Doctor Who - The Lost Stories: Series 07

[vertigoartgore]

Doctor Who's Fifteenth Doctor by artist Mike Schwartz.

[whatsfourteenupto]

I’m sorry I’m sorry I usually don’t ‘liveblog’ things but was ten’s big return in Christmas Invasion supposed to be this goddamn funny? I can’t get off the floor he’s in borrowed PJs. He accidentally started quoting the Lion King. Went from 0-200 words per minute instantly and called himself out on it. Spent several minutes hyping up the fact he was going to push the threatening red button. And I’m sorry but every single word after he gets his hand cut off. I was already in tears over the CGI of it growing back but David Freaking Tennant saying “It’s a fightin’ hand!” like he’s suddenly jumped genres to Tombstone I can’t breathe-

[rallentando1011]

Risevember 2023: Day 13 - Injured

(@sariphantom

I’m sure he’ll be fine!

sorta continuation of yesterday, or it’s at least alluded to)

[wulvercazz]

🫦A Taste of the City🐢

Previous ~ October 5th - Tentacles, Cannibalism ( Nell x Riruka ) ~ Extra tags; dry humping, voyeurism, possessive behaviour

The Prompt List

(fic part 2 under the cut, this one's a lil short one<33)

The music's gone down to a more muted thump of the beat, but no less provocative or dizzying. The pink and purple and blues of the stage maintain a certain prescence throughout the place and Ichigo just can't stop noting everyone who's started getting their fix in the middle of the busy room. It's gone from strip club to full on sex club pretty quick and... Ichigo's not even sure yet that what just happened with the dancer was entirely real.

He tries not to look at anyone in the face, fleeting glances in several directions as he tries to find something less sexual to focus his sight on. At least while he finishes his drink.

Because that's all he wanted. That's all he came here for; a drink and some time to dwell on this horrible situation... and yet all he has on a petrifying loop inside his mind is that candy fucking Grimmjow's pink slick slit and the soft noices he'd made while he did it- fuck, this fucking city sucks.

The alcohol warms his throat pleasantly, and burns like sharp scratches up his nose when he accidentaly meets eyes with a sea turtle woman and a shy-looking jellyfish rocking and squirming on her lap. A mess of little bubbles clouds his view from the force of his choking; and the turtle doesn't budge or break to laugh, watching him directly even while her hands and lips are still concentrated on the pretty thing wrapped tight to her bosom.

She's teasing her, playing her soft, squishy skin, twirling her thick fingers in her curly hair and follows them right down to her curly tentacles, mindless of the sting of them. Her hands are solely on her but Ichigo feels like she's teasing him. Like that is his skin she's toying with. And yet, her eyes are possessive like a predator holding onto a meal, like she's daring him to make a single move; urging him to stay back back but also to not. stop. looking.

And with every tentative little touch of her sharp beak to the soft flesh under her jaw both the jellyfish and him jump with a start. Her soft lips part, and while he's frozen quiet in his spot, terrified to move a single muscle, she's slowly growing more and more disheveled and undone; soft, high-pitched moans escaping her, and the gentle rocking of her hips growing more and more desperate.

"Please, please," he hears her mutter in the sweetest voice. Fuck, and how pretty she begs. However miss sea turtle is keeping it together when granted such pretty please is a mystery to him; begging's always been his weakness.

And when the turtle speaks it's in such a soft and yet authoritative voice, that Ichigo can't quite catch - clearly not meant for him -, she trembles all over with excitement, nodding her head and making her long twintails ripple and curl in the water around them.

There's more kissing, more touching. Things too intimate that he wouldn't be so sure he's allowed to see anymore if only the turtle didn't keep checking on him to make sure he's still watching.

And then his ears ring and his vision goes for about a second, watches the turtle take a bite out of the jellyfish in an out of body sort of point of view. And a voice deep inside tells him to run and another to join in the feeding, and that alone snaps him right back to reality.

Her loud moans barely stand out with how loud everyone is, getting off by themselves or with help, and still all he's focusing on is the ripping of her jelly tentacles and the ecstasy spreading all across her face. Her body combulsing with pleasure that only grows with every glimpse she catches of her flesh disappearing inside the turtle's mouth. Throwing her head back and giving a few more insistant bucks of her hips while she rides her orgasm.

Ichigo realizes then, when her equally pink eyes finally meet his, that she hadn't acknowledged him at all this whole time; and now she does with a loopy smile and a question that has his body finally springing right back to flight.

"Wanna join, pretty boy?"

Find the uncensored version, as well as early access and wips to Aquacity as I draw/write it, on SubStar (link on pinned intro post)✨

[ashley-slashley]

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A Christian pastor who supports Donald Trump recently delivered a sermon urging Christians to strengthen their passion and suggested they should be willing to die for their faith.

Regeneration Nashville Pastor Kent Christmas has often spoken favorably of Trump, who is running his third presidential campaign and is the clear front-runner among a crowded field of GOP candidates. In last Sunday's sermon at his Pentecostal church in Tennessee, Christmas said the Muslim faith has become so successful because its followers are "willing to die for their beliefs."

The video was first reported by watchdog group Right Wing Watch, which tweeted the clip on Tuesday.

In it, Christmas is seen preaching vehemently as he paces the stage.

"You want to know why the Muslim faith has had its advancements? It's because the Muslims were willing to die for their beliefs. They were willing to strap bombs to their chest," he said.

Christmas then asked God to give the Christian faith some men and women with passion in their spirit who are willing to "lay down [their] life for the Gospel."

Newsweek reached out to Regeneration Nashville by email for comment.

Pro-Trump pastors have delivered thunderous sermons for years, often following the former president's rhetoric and preaching that the nation has been seized by "witchcraft." Trump often asserts on his Truth Social platform that the federal government is conducting a witch hunt against him, particularly after the Justice Department launched investigations into his handling of classified documents and his actions leading up to the January 6, 2021, Capitol riot.

The first case recently brought an indictment that charges Trump with 37 felony counts. He is accused of mishandling sensitive presidential records by taking them after leaving office and then obstructing the government's efforts to get them back. Trump is the first former president to face federal charges, which he pleaded not guilty to during his arraignment this week.

Recently, Christmas doubled down on a purported prophecy that he said showed Trump is the rightful president despite President Joe Biden's election victory in 2020.

"In the eyes of God, the president of the United States right now in the courts of justice in Heaven is not Joe Biden but it's Donald Trump," Christmas said in a May 15 clip on Twitter shared by Right Wing Watch.

Right Wing Watch's report about last Sunday's sermon said that Christmas was infuriated over what he falsely said was legislation approved in Vermont that makes it legal to "kill a baby" up to 21 days after a full-term birth.

"I am at war with evil," Christmas said in his sermon. "This is one preacher that is not backing down. I can tell you this: I will give my life for the Gospel."

He then asked God to provide other Christians who are willing to do the same.

[theultratom]

That scene where it’s like damn did we get him? But quickly the answer became (oh let’s get the f#%* out of here)!

[zahnffxiv]

hrothtober day 2: sweat!! i haven't finished my splendorous gathering tools yet!!

[greyscuhrazyfactory]

First time I saw one its cheeks was jiggling.

[deadpuppetboi]

Goretober Day 2: Rot/Decay

The alarm sounded, mimicking a crying bird, as the young teen rushed away, cards in hand and tears in their eyes.

Their lungs burned as they took sharp in-and-out breaths, while their legs felt like jello. They went around every corner they could find, attempting every door they could locate to swipe the cards and find a way out. Whatever stood in their way was either disregarded or bypassed entirely; nothing was going to keep them from leaving this place once and for all.

They turned to another corridor, scolding themselves as they recognized the inside, then going back to check if they had missed anything.

This place was like a maze.

A confining and perplexing maze with seemingly no way in or out. Just a copy and paste of halls, doors, and thrown papers all over the place, with that awful alarm wailing on and on.

Willow paused to take a breather, smoothing their long black hair back as they took in their surroundings. Their black gaze trailed to the cards they had collected since their departure. They held three cards, all of different colors and levels, that would allow the teenager to pass through any door that allowed them to do so.

They huffed in anger as they turned to another drab and empty hallway with what the teenager mistook for another door. Regardless, they moved forward, pulling out one of the cards to check whether it opened the door.

They hadn't anticipated the door, or rather the elevator doors, to open. As recognizable masked figures covered their vision, the teenager took a step back, preparing to flee before the sounds of firearms being raised were overheard.

"Stop!" A commanding voice demanded as Willow froze and reflexively raised their hands in the air. "Don't move!"

"I wasn't planning to," Willow snarled.

Armed men in gray and black rushed out of the elevator, rifles lifted and aimed at the adolescent as they surveyed the area. Willow criticized themselves as they were forced to give up the cards in their hands, give up their one chance of escape, and be brought in once more.

"Clear," a guard cried out as they walked down the corridor with one another.

"Clear," another guard cried out as they moved forward, taking care not to make themselves a target.

Willow was shoved against the wall, face pressed into the cold, their hands were wrenched back, and the familiar feeling of metal dug into their skin. When they were thrown to the ground, pistols still aimed, they clicked their tongue and let out another lengthy sigh.

"Don't start," one of the soldiers said as they regarded Willow, "consider yourself lucky, if you ran any further you'd be facing God knows what in this place."

Willow scoffed.

"Rather deal with that than this shit," they hissed as they were restrained by another guard.

One guard spoke into his radio in a low but pleased tone.

"Scp-8356 has been captured; prepare the containment chamber for its eventual return."

The other end of the line gave a 10-4, thereby ending the conversation. Willow didn't care; what they did care about was that they had missed out on the opportunity to find the escape. However, this was not the first or, most likely, the last time they had fled their confinement; their minds had set up another strategy to get out of here.

It couldn't be as huge as Willow had imagined. There has to be an escape route; it couldn't have been bending and shifting their path to confuse them.

There was an entrance and an exit, but the teen was stranded in the middle.

And, as before, they were apprehended and thrown into the same cage, where they were presumably told their privileges had been terminated. Another cycle to begin, trapped in a cage, asked the same old questions and presumably subjected to another experiment to evaluate their ability.

Their irrational and God-awful abilities.

Willow remained silent, their head down as they groaned and closed their eyes. They clinched their fists and sighed in frustration, ignoring their boring garments that adorned a sign they'd grown to despise.

A drawn circle with three arrows crossing its contour and heading to the center.

Secure. Contain. Protect.

Fuck that.

Willow felt the back of their eyes burn, and they battled to hold the tears at bay.

They were about to cry when they heard a scream from the far end of the hallway and a sudden burst of bullets. They flinched, their head snapping to the sound as the guards around them did as well. With their weapons drawn, a few made their way to the source of the noise before it turned deadly quiet.

"What's going on, Ramirez?" one guard exclaimed.

For a long time, there was silence, causing two guards to walk forward and investigate what had occurred. Two guards remained with Willow, keeping their rifles fixed on them to prevent them from fleeing. Willow watched as the two guards trained their weapons at the end of the corridor, scanning for any blind spots to see what had happened.

They proceeded a few more paces, forming what Willow imagined was a yard, before coming to a halt. One guard coughed, while the other smelled; they appeared perplexed for a few seconds before beginning to examine their surroundings.

"Smith," a guard yelled out next to Willow, "report!"

One of the soldiers in front of them turned back, as if he was about to say something before it occurred to them. It was a dark and goopy sludge that bubbled slightly as it made contact with the guard's helmet.

"The hell-"

He automatically went out to touch the unusual substance, his head thrown back to see the source before something else fell.

It was a big glob of the same substance, but this time it had totally disintegrated the guard's shield. Once through, the man let out an ear-splitting cry as he grasped onto his face. Everyone took a step back in horror as the guard slumped back and continued to scream. Eyes shot up, weapons pulled, a strange black vacuum bubble emerging through the gaps in the ceiling.

Willow watched in terror as two withered hands peered through the seething void, grasping at the edges and pushing themselves out. As the onslaught proceeded, the guards opened fire, bullets ringing out and loud bangs pricing Willow's ears.

Nonetheless, sickly laughter resonated through the corridors.

"Oh God-" A voice screeched before the sickly patched thing plummeted from the ceiling and landed on him. When they made contact, the guard's garments began to melt like paper in front of a fire before latching onto his skin. The guard, like the guard before him, let out a piercing scream, his throat scratching in agony as his body began to tremble.

Willow began to draw back, their hand behind their back, their gaze fixed on the beast before them, and they neglected to notice the guards attempting to stop them.

"Don't move," one guard said, but Willow made their way up.

"Forget it," the other guard snarled as he continued shooting at the rotten man approaching him, "it doesn't matter now!"

Willow didn't seem to mind their discussion as they moved their hands over to press the elevator button. They kept pressing on it as the rotten old man got closer, oblivious to the gunshots that penetrated its skin. It only laughed at it, at the anguish, and at the exhausting attempts to halt it.

Willow hammered on whatever buttons they could reach with their limitations as the elevator slowly opened, bypassing the doors. The seemingly melting figure began to sink into the ground below, squatting slowly as another void began to develop from beneath. The guards were perplexed before two hands appeared from beneath them, gripping their ankles and dragging them down like fish on a hook.

Willow stumbled back to the corner as they both shouted as the elevator began to close its doors.

Willow watched as the old man glanced at them, his once-thin smile widening and becoming vicious as the doors finally closed. The elevator began to rise, Willow working quickly to loosen the handcuffs in order to liberate themselves. They were successful in digging the metal into the wrists, causing them to hiss and curse as they struggled on.

They hadn't noticed the bubbling from behind them.

The elevator continued to move, slightly clicking as it approached the floor from above. Willow had hoped that they wouldn't have to confront that beast face to face. They attempted to break the handcuffs to release their hands before a hand grazed their back.

Willow leaped forward, bending their heads back to see the same old man they had seen earlier, now worn and filthy beyond repair up close. Its smile was as wide as it had always been, with cracked yellowed teeth squeezed together like glue and wrinkles pulling at the edges of its skin as it laughed hauntingly.

Willow lurched to the other side of the elevator, eyes wild as the hands behind their back struggled with the buttons.

The old man began to emerge from the nothingness, laughing as he looked at the adolescent before him. It's horrible skin bubbling with pus and cysts, breathing haggardly and gurgling from the back of his throat.

It went onto the elevator level and started walking over to Willow.

"Wait, no- Stop! Stop! Stop!" shouted Willow.

The beast extended one skeletal hand toward the adolescent, tempting them with its lethal touch. Willow could feel the corner of the wall grind into their back, immobilizing them; all they could do was stare in terror as the hand-stretched over and grabbed their shoulder.

For a moment, Willow felt nothing.

And then they felt a sudden prick.

Then the prick turned into a sharp pain.

And that sharp ache evolved into a searing sensation that seemed to run the length of their arm.

Willow let out a terrible scream, their eyes wide and watering, their nerves exposed, they yelled out as their garments and skin burnt as if a fire had grazed them. They tried to back up, trying to get away from the old man, only to have another hand stretch out and grab their injured arm, volatile fingers burrowing like clay into his burning skin.

Willow screamed again, their throat now tight from the pain, and their eyesight blurred.

Their arm began to fizzle, like boiling water in a kettle, and their skin began to bubble and rip, displaying their tissues. As the pain intensified, their shouts became mute, the old man's fingers gripping their decaying flesh and peeling it away to show the bone beneath. Which had disintegrated beneath his touch, his laughter booming as he ripped apart the teenager's arm as if it were a puzzle piece.

Willow collapsed to their back, crying silently as fresh tears streamed down their flushed cheeks.

They'd gone into shock, only experiencing pain pulses as they gasped and shook slightly. The handcuffs on their hands were dissolving from the acid dripping from the old man's flesh. They heaved in disgust as a lump developed at the back of their throat as they crawled back as far as they could, smacking the elevator doors.

The black material ate away at their skin, continuing its lethal touch as the old man looked down at the adolescent with sadistic delight. It lifted up the teenager's lifeless arm and shook it back and forth, teasing them as they yelled out in agony as a new wave of pain overwhelmed them.

They attempted to reach down and grasp the adolescent once more to prolong their agony before something happened.

Willow felt something rip through their scorched skin. Something sharp and white went through them like a bullet, ignoring how their melted skin tore off in clumps. They hissed as the white frames began to reassemble into a particular shape. It began to expand and crack together into a familiar structure, and the upper arm, forearm, elbow, wrist, and fingers began to reassemble themselves.

Muscles grew from the freshly created bones while reddish tissue burst out and bound together like a spider web. Before long, pale skin began to coat the newly created muscles, coating them and restoring the fingers' nails.

Willow held up their repaired arm in front of their tear-stained face, gasping slightly as pins and needles surged throughout their limb. More tears streamed down their cheeks as they tightened their fists and gently stretched their fingers as if to regain their composure.

“Ow. Ow. Ow.”

The old man slowly turned his head to the side, as if perplexed by what had just occurred. He stared down at the dismembered limb he was carrying before tossing it to the side as if it didn't matter anymore. Its smile twisted and widened, revealing its decaying gums as he reached across to grab Willow once again.

Food that wouldn't spoil was exactly what he needed.

Willow screamed, flinching at the notion of having to repeat the previous horrific event.

A ping was heard, and the elevator doors began to open.

Willow got themselves up and rushed away without hesitation, ignoring the numbing sensation that ran down their arm. The beast simply looked up and watched as the teenager rounded a corner and spirited away, leaving the old man in his wake. It laughed and dug its way through the floor, leaving another ugly void it constructed and controlled by hand and thought.

This cat-and-mouse game had only just begun.

[ollywears]

Olly Alexander wearing a Marine Serre S/S 2023 one-of-a-kind regenerated t-shirt in an TikTol video (June 26, 2023).

[dijidweeeb]

Motivational Music in the Morning ... #StaticX, #Zombie ... from #ProjectRegeneration #Volume2 [Official Music Video] (2023) #MMitM1

[wutbju]

And Bob Jones III announced the BJU honorary for 2023 at ~35:00:

Mr. President, our honoree was born in Arizona, grew up on a Navajo Indian Reservation where his mother served as missionary. After graduating from BJU, where he was greatly influenced by Doctor Richard Rupp and Dr. Earl Nutz of the Bible Faculty and Cecil Tune, his aviation instructor, under whom he earned his pilot's license, which has been valuable in his ministry to those who live on reservations. His summers while a BJU student were spent at Camp Ironwood in California and the Roloff Homes in Texas with men who struggled with addiction.

After getting a Bachelors of Arts in Practical Christian Training from this institution in 1984, he returned to Arizona to the ministry he has never left. He serves as a missionary to Native Americans at Regeneration Reservation in southeastern Arizona. He founded and continues to pasture Regeneration Baptist Church while serving as president of the Regeneration Mission Board. Our honoree and his wife Kathy, along with several other missionaries, all Bob Jones University grads and including their son Nathan, minister in a variety of ways including a home and Christian education for Apache children at the reservation to build redemptive relationships within the local community. He has served as volunteer with the fire department and the county Search and Rescue.

His family earned Black Belts in martial arts, which have opened numerous doors for ministry. Their summer camps, comprised of horsemanship, martial arts and rock climbing, have opened other doors to the hearts of young people. For four decades, he and his team continued to make evangelistic visits to preach to those in tribal jails. They use biblically based recovery materials, which they have written especially for the Native American community. Our honoree serves on the Apache Bible Committee, tasked with translating God's Word into the heart language of Apache people. Currently, he and his team are working at recording the entire New Testament in Western Apache. At the request of tribal leadership, our honoree hosts a weekly radio program that reaches over 30,000 people onto Apache reservations. He established and coordinates a partnership of Native American leaders called Today's Native, which are committed to developing evangelistic and discipleship resources. This platform of reaching Native Americans and indigenous people groups with the Gospel consists of audio, video and print resources. They have reached each of the Nation’s 574 tribes and have placed the Gospel in more than 125,000 native homes. Additionally, he is Vice President of the Roloff Evangelistic Enterprises, where he has been a board member for over 30 years, and since 2016, he has overseen the Family Altar radio program emanating from that ministry and is heard daily nationwide and in many foreign countries. Scott and his wife Kathy, a 1984 graduate from BJU with a Bachelor of Arts in Christian Missions, have four children and one granddaughter.

I might add that as an example of his persevering commitment to God's calling, I remember visiting Scott in the mid 1980s, near the inception of his ministry. [He said that] they would consider their ministry to have been a success if they had seen only four Navajo families get saved, become disciples and remain on the reservation to live transformed, biblically sanctified lives without spiritual or moral failure among their people. Today, for Scott's unrelenting efforts to bring the Gospel of Christ to an often overlooked group of people through a lifetime of dedicated ministry, Dr. Pettit, it is my purpose to present to you, my friend Scott Murphy, as recipient of Doctor of Humanities.

Where do we begin? Bob Jones University has supported Lester Roloff in all his iterations from the beginning. WMUU carried his radio show. Bob Jr. spoke at his funeral. Bob III made affirming statements at the time:

And the proof of Lester Roloff's abuse is everywhere:

And the abuse of indigenous children is rampant and still coming to light.

Why, why, why is Bob Jones University endorsing these kinds of practices still in 2023?

This is Bob Jones University. This. Right here. On Steve Pettit's watch, btw.

[elgaberino-mcoc]

spreadsheet cleanup subseries: wishlist requests MADCAP

The request

If you count the times he was in his own body, he doesn't statistically merit Wishlist

But he (borderline) does if you add the 84 comics and 1 video game in which he was a white caption box voice in Deadpool's head 🤷‍♂️ 

- Other Gabe