#absolutely not under no circumstances

[kalpasio]

i woke up at 3:58 am thinking about herrscher kalpas please feed me this food 🙏

pianist anon

I could totally see him having one of those moments where he hates honkai so much he lets it corrupt him?? like so blinded by rage he doesn't realize it's taken over?

obviously Herrscher of fire makes sense, but could you imagine Herrscher of death Kalpas with black instead of brown and his title of decimation is an understatement? just everything around him is destroyed and he's loving every minute of it?

maybe that's what he was like when he first got the meta-morph surgery?? maybe he did actually become a Herrscher and that's why he joined after Elysia talked to him 👀

either way Herrscher Kalpas would be extra hot and spicy and I am not immune to the idea of him killing everyone but reader because he still has that soft spot 💔

[tangledinink]

... and thus The Gemini Egg Saga comes to a close.

(sort of. because I told you guys via bribe that I'd show you how Donnie and Mama's conversation went after his near brush with death... so expect that in the near future.) (<- now published!)

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[sesamebri]

smoke break with nii-san 🚬👹

[fallout-lou-begas]

thought about this while grocery shopping. discuss.

[mariamegale]

concept: omegaverse on the gorkhon except twyre bloom doesn't send anyone smack dab into feral heat during the plague, it just means artemy runs around going increasingly insane about how bad he wants to take a nap with daniil while city man furiously has to resist his Deep Desire to put on one of artemy's sweaters and hiss at people who call him mean things. out of normal emotions. absolutely not for overwhelming domestic urges reasons.

[inquisimer]

happy friday! i was looking at the feeling safe prompts and saw "[ interrupt ] sender stops a confrontation between receiver and someone else, stepping between them and coming to receiver's defense." maybe this would be nice for teia to step in when viago is being a bit too harsh on arlow?

oh ho ho this was a GOOD one, thank you!! here's some Viago Reactivity™️to Arlow and Lucanis' relationship >:]

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 831 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers

-

“Come with me.” Viago’s gloved hand took Arlow by the elbow and pulled her away from the refreshments. He cast a disdainful look at the wine. “You don’t want to drink that, anyway. Illario has stingy taste when it’s not for himself.”

Arlow rolled her eyes. “Sure, Viago. No problem, Viago. There’s nothing else I was doing at the moment and I definitely have time to chat, Viago.”

“You’ll make time,” he growled, dragging her into a room off the opera house’s main theater. “You’re certainly making time for worse decisions.”

Arlow wrenched her elbow out of Viago’s grip, eyes flashing. “What in the void is that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means.” The tails of Viago’s cape snapped angrily as he spun around and pinned her in place with a glare sharper than any dagger. “Working a contract with Lucanis is one thing, but what are you playing at? He’s not even the First Talon’s grandson any longer—the actual First Talon? Have you lost all sense?”

“That’s what you’re upset about?” Arlow scoffed, folding her arms protectively across her chest. As much as she loved this dress, it was not the armor she preferred to wear when Viago’s temper flared. “It was a dance. And a kiss.”

“It was a little more than a kiss. And it was in front of the entire House of Crows,” Viago hissed. “Every Talon, every would-be Talon, every rank-and-file assassin is out there taking notes. And you just handed them information that they will use!”

“To do what? What could they possibly do to our house? If anything, this exposes House Dellamorte, not us.”

She had considered the implications, after all. Despite what Viago seemed to think. A Crow never forgot their place in the hierarchy—the very nature of the guild ensured that. Arlow knew quite well that she had been far below Lucanis’ station even before tonight. Now he was First Talon; he couldn’t even see her from where he sat at the top of the ladder. Metaphorically.

But—the dance had been his idea. She had made sure he thought it through.

Still, Viago’s nostrils flared. “Of course it exposes House Dellamorte. They were already weakened, even before Lucanis disappeared and Illario’s stunt. Now, Illario is deposed and Lucanis is possessed. And Caterina is aging—their position is precarious.” His fingers tightened against his hip. “They will need a shield, when the other houses come for them.”

Arlow reared back. “Lucanis wouldn’t do that. Not—not the way you’re suggesting. He would talk to me first.”

“Would he?” Viago raised a brow. “His family, his blood—they are everything to him, no? Do you really think your dalliance means more to him than their legacy?”

“That’s enough, Viago.” Teia’s voice cracked like a whip from the doorway. She laid a supportive hand on Arlow’s shoulder. “This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation.”

“Nor is it the place for your soft heart,” Viago huffed. “I will not have my house hung out for the taking because Arlow cannot keep it in her pants.”

Arlow’s rage flared hot and white. The rage that often got her into deeper trouble with Viago, but she didn’t care. “Oh that’s rich. I suppose I should have waited until you and Teia were back on, that way you’d have a chance of understanding—“

Teia’s nails dug painfully into Arlow’s bare shoulder. “That is not helping,” she muttered.

Viago had gone very, very still—and like his snakes, Arlow knew that was the moment before the greatest danger. Before the strike.

“You overstep,” he hissed, stalking forward with precise, pointed steps. Arlow’s throat bobbed with a nervous swallow, but she glared up at him, chin tilting back the closer he came. He took her jaw roughly between his fingers anyway. “Your contract may have you brushing elbows with people of import, but you will not forget your place in my house.”

Teia’s other hand fell on Viago’s wrist. “Time and place, Vi. Let her go.”

He released Arlow and the skin where his fingers had pressed into her jaw thudded in time with her racing pulse. “Get out of here,” he said, not looking at her any longer. “Go back to the Fade—if you want to keep making mistakes, make them somewhere no one else can see.”

“Vi—“

“It’s fine, Teia.” Arlow took a shaky breath, but her voice, at least, was as cold and level as she wanted it to be. “It’s fine. I’m—I’ll talk to you later.”

Teia’s hand left her shoulder, artfully smudging the lines of purple and black that Arlow’s held-back tears had started to ruin. “There,” she murmured. “Go. I will talk to him.”

For what good it would do. Arlow managed a small smile, painted on in strokes of disbelief and resignation. She pressed a grateful kiss to Teia’s cheek, steeled herself to face the party again, and left.

[anticidic]

no but like, I'd eat my shoe for a light novel of Dazai's and Fyodor's first meeting because there's one RAGING question I have:

Dazai already mentions Fyodor in The Day I Picked Up Dazai, so he crossed paths with Fyodor at least by 16.

Now my question is, did he find it suspicious Fyodor hadn't aged a bit? Like, in 6 years, Fyodor hasn't gained a single wrinkle on his face, his facial features didn't get any sharper, he didn't get any taller. He looks the exact same 6+ years later.

I guesssss you could make an argument that maybe Fyodor has fabulous genes that keep him looking youthful and like he hasn't aged a day, but I feel like Dazai would pick up on any subtleties.

anyway, light novel of them. gimme. I can think of several ways they ended up meeting most of them not-so-good for Dazai since he was in a terrible spot mentally but I WANT TO KNOW

[canisalbus]

Hi hello, I was struggling with my Spooktober challenge, but wanted to draw something today, so I ended up with this:

He is Very Shape, so I had to lmao (I don't draw animals much, so it was a bit tricky, but hope it came out okay!)

Also, terkkuja toiselta suomalaiselta, meikäläisiin törmää niin harvoin :D

.

[mariusroyale]

“We’re runnin’ outta time!”

“Why can’t I do this?”

“I’m failing you.”

you know what gets me about this scene? other than my boy crying bc oh god i just wanna hug him i just had to rewatch it bc the raph edits in my fyp are BRUTAL

their expressions

ok not only are they drawn so well (you know what i mean like how well the style is maintained) but it’s the way that each of them look

look at how upset they are after seeing raph fall apart and letting it sit for a sec

LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

LOOK AT MIKEY’S FACE— I WILL SOB.

[zeb-z]

I’m so Obsessed with Pac and his crazy ass. he’s so 🤏 yknow? he’s the biggest advocate to make hard drugs recreational and legal on the island. he was jealous when Foolish got shot until downed by Cucurucho, saying he wished it was him. the man he trusts most on the island is a reformed cannibal - the one who literally ate his leg. he looked for anything not bolted down to take in that fed base they found Kameto in. he acted so suspicious to Bad for literally no reason, enough for Bad to plan on killing him to search his body for hidden photo evidence (which he didn’t have) - and then not a minute later ended up just killing himself in front of the demon for some entirely unrelated reason. then when he got his stuff back and found Bad was looking for a photo, he just started giving him the most random assortment of pictures he had without question. he talked for a full minute about why he wanted to execute everyone by hanging them to collect all their heads. there is just something so fundamentally wrong with him <3

[theresamouseinmyhouse]

Under what circumstances would one discover they enjoy artichoke hearts, onions, and canadian bacon combined on a pizza i desperately wanna know (yeah this is abt tim drake)

[lichqueenlibrarian]

Kirk only has one thought and it’s Spock.

[forlorn-crows]

𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

just a lil something i tortured @divine-misfortune with last night after he shared this post with me and said "Now hear me out Zeph/aeth and or omega bc they won’t slow down fr a damn second "

and thus i started a doc lovingly called "zephyr/omega go to sleep ya old man"

1263 words of omega misusing quintessence in order to (lovingly i swear) force zephyr to get some rest. yes zephyr will be mad at him later. yes omega is being a lil bit of a bastard. yes i am indulging in my (our) hypnokink, just go with it.

“You’re a stubborn old thing, you know that?”

Zephyr rolls their eyes before side-eyeing the quintessence ghoul, making a face. “Care to elaborate?”

“Been spending a lot of time with those new ghoulettes. When was the last time you slept?” Omega puts a hand on the back of the leather armchair Zephyr is currently seated in, where they were, up until now, engrossed in a text about ancient languages. 

They bite their tongue against the urge to correct him on Cirrus and Cumulus’ names. “I slept last night, there’s no need for your concern.”

“Oh, last night, hm? So that wasn’t the organ I was hearing in the wee hours of the morning?”

“You are as old as this building, Omega, surely you’re aware of the noises that aged pipes make when all else is silent.” 

He tuts. “Far too melodic for old plumbing, Zeph.”

Zephyr grumbles and makes to return back to their book without replying. Omega chuckles, and suddenly his hands are resting on their shoulders, thumbs heavy over the strained tendons on the back of their neck. 

“Why don’t you let me help?”

The air ghoul grumbles again. Slots their small stack of notes along the book’s binding as a makeshift bookmark and snaps the thing shut. They place it onto the table and stare at the fire in the hearth.  

“And why should I let you?” they say to the fading embers. 

Omega hums. “Because you need your rest, you cranky ghoul.”

“I am plenty rested.”

“These knots in your shoulders say otherwise.”

Zephyr closes their eyes and sighs like an exasperated teacher. “And you claim that I am the stubborn one?”

“Come on,” Omega goads them. Telltale magick crackling to life beneath his fingertips. “Doesn’t have to be much.”

Before Zephyr can so much as think about scurrying away with their book, warm quintessence seeps into their bones, the tension held there unraveling from the inside out. Their eyelids flutter, shoulders slumping. Some undignified noise bubbles up from their throat, and they can barely catch their chin from hitting their chest as their head lolls forward. 

“You . . .” They try to protest, tongue too heavy in their mouth to form its usual elegant timbre. Their hands can’t even grip the arms of the chair anymore, cementing them into place and thwarting any chance they had of escaping Omega’s nagging. 

Said quintessence ghoul shushes him, self-satisfied and certainly not even close to genuinely comforting. “There you go. See? Knew you were tired.”

“Hn . . .’m not—”

“You are, look at that sleepy face.” Omega brushes a few strands of hair back behind their horns, their head leaning into his touch without their permission. Zephyr’s eyes are drooping, rolling with the effort of trying to keep them open. Maybe they are more tired than they thought, he didn’t give them that much magick, did he?

Omega coos at them, running his thumb along the base of their horn. “Just close your eyes,” he whispers. 

Zephyr just groans, something close to uh uh, but it doesn’t sound very disagreeing. They’re falling asleep sitting up, and his warm hand against the side of their face does nothing but drag them closer to unconsciousness. Suddenly, they don’t want to get away from him. Magick swirls all syrupy in their veins, and, really, it’s getting harder and harder to have any opinions on the situation. 

Behind them, Omega shakes his head and loops around to the front of the chair, still cradling their head as he kneels between their parted legs. The hands at their sides, having slid off the arms of the chair, twitch towards him. Zephyr watches Omega’s other hand as it comes to hold the other side of their face, eyes slow and delayed as they track its movement. 

“You’d do well to listen to me, you tired old hen,” Omega chides them. He wiggles their head a little, not unlike a chiropractor looking for sore spots. Ensuring they’re close to limp and loose. 

Zephyr just lets him. Has no choice, really. They’d call him a plethora of names later—bastard, unwelcome imp, meddling hypnotist spawn—but the thought of remembering to do so slides away like rain on glass. 

He must sense the fleeting thought behind Zephyr’s glassy eyes, because he adjusts their head again, tightening his grip almost imperceptibly. 

“None of that; you’re being so good, aren’t you? I’m only helping, aren’t I? Little bit of magick to get rid of all those pesky cobwebs between your ears. I know, you’re so tired underneath all those stubborn thoughts. Just takes a nice, kind ghoul like me to help you relax, doesn’t it?” On and on he drones, the words going in one ear and out the other, washing away their own internal monologue and replacing it with his own. They are tired, and an afternoon nap isn’t so terrible, they aren’t really busy. And Omega’s helping them. 

Definitely not using his magick in some smug, actually selfish way, rendering the normally uptight ghoul completely powerless in less than a second. No, it’s completely selfless—a show of his care and concern for Zephyr’s wellbeing. Absolutely not a vehicle to win any kind of argument, not at all. 

Their breathing is slowing now, neck nearly limp in Omega’s hands. Sinking deeper into the fuzzy embrace of sleep. 

“That’s it,” he lilts. “You’re gonna feel so much better, and I won’t even say ‘I told you so.’ How does that sound?” 

Zephyr responds with a long exhale through parted lips, left thigh twitching randomly as the pleasant numbness settles in. 

Omega smirks. “Good.” With one last push of quintessence, he tilts their head just so and watches as their eyes unfocus and fall shut, jaw dropping open with the softest noise as they drift asleep in his hands. The quiet snores follow just seconds later, Omega’s hands the only thing keeping them upright. 

He waits until he’s sure they’re asleep, warming his back against the dying flames while Zephyr slumps in their chair. Only then does he pull back the tendrils of his magick, letting it seep down towards the floorboards as slow as molasses so as not to accidentally rouse them. Thankfully, the library is empty this time of day. Nothing to interrupt the air ghoul’s much needed sleep. 

They’re lax and peaceful now, but Omega’s sure he’ll hear about it when they wake. He laughs to himself at the plethora of elegant insults that come to mind. For now, he takes satisfaction in the way Zephyr’s head lolls back against the chair with the gentlest press of his pointer finger, drool making its way out of the corner of their mouth already. 

“Cute,” the quintessence ghoul comments, smoothing out the wrinkles in his button-down. And then, as a wicked afterthought, he presses the pad of his finger to the middle of their forehead again, sneaking in a cheeky suggestion of a dream wrapped in plumes of balsam and petrichor. Snickering to himself when Zephyr whines quietly and their tail kinks up at the end. “Enjoy,” he whispers, making his exit. 

Omega knows he won’t get any thanks for that—a pity, really, considering it was quite a nice little fantasy—nor will he get any thanks for helping (forcing) Zephyr to get some rest. At the very least, he’ll get a very disgruntled and haughty air ghoul glaring at him for the remainder of the day. 

Omega’s fine with being berated for misuse of magick if it means the poor thing won’t be sleep deprived. Until then, he files away Zephyr’s reaction to it for later.

[lagomorphique]

i think its a fairly common trope in tf2 fic for scout to avoid smoking and sometimes alcohol as well bc he's the one member of the team who really needs to not have shitty lungs, but im afraid im a terrible 'scout tf2 smokes like hell' truther. based entirely on the fact bc he had a lighter on him in expiration date. he probably started when he was like 12 bc all his brothers did, then carried on bc he thought it looked cool and now does it to help w nerves. easily chainsmokes worse than spy on bad days. i mean it was the 60s and he has an addictive personality and unmedicated adhd. Man probly collects bad habits like tom jones memorabilia

[volitioncheck]

i think i wouldn’t hate disco elysium’s collage mode nearly as much if it weren’t for 1) the way that it was marketed in such a tasteless, soulless manner, let alone the fact that it was a last ditch distraction from a dead on its feet studio piloted by dumbass thieving execs and released on the day of the court declaration, and 2) those dumbass fucking stickers

like if it had been included with the base game from the start and had been titled something a bit more tasteful and in-line with how i would have liked the feature to be marketed as— something like “exploration mode”, something that perhaps could only be unlocked after completing the game for the first time, AND didn’t have those stupid as hell visually and tonally incongruent with the artstyle stickers, i would have applauded it as a nice little bonus for being able to study and appreciate the 3d models and environments for reference.