#and/or forget his time on the island

[dnalt-d2]

Oh boy I sure am glad that @v@/Forever is locked up now, and we have NO further threat from anyone being corrupted and becoming this dangerous again NO SIRREE!!

(Glances nervously at Fit)

[samualcheese]

i keep starting drawings and not finishing them so heres doodle assortment

square root two is my favorite irrational btw

also twelve... i wonder if they'll actually appear in any of the shorts rather than just being there in the credits

also...

I never post about other object shows bc paranoia and anxiety but I see alien. i must draw. also theyre weird and i love it. Ok. hi clock

[zeb-z]

the realization that the eggs have been gone since before etoiles started showing corruption from the code. what do you mean pomme was worried because of the code cracks over his eye?what do you mean it hasn’t been there this whole time? what do you mean time had passed without them, and they cannot just pretend like there weren’t changes to both parent and child in their absence?

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 11 - Dream

Chosen Earthmates

[bengallemon]

(little experimental piece i did so i could figure out how i want to write isabeau, set some time pre-canon. technically au but its v ambiguous)

---

It’s raining.

The clouds – cumulonimbus, specifically – are coating the sky, an endless torrent falling from them.

Thunder rumbles and lightning strikes at random intervals, sudden lights and sounds coming from all around yo- that’s incorrect. The stimuli comes from above, the reason it feels like it comes from all around you is because your feelings are all over the place and it’s screwing with how you’re perceiving everything that surrounds you.

…

you were never good with storms, were you?

sudden sounds that feel deafening to you, coming with no warning, no way to understand or predict or learn about it because you were too busy being caught in your anxiety.

sudden sounds that feel deafening to you, coming with no warning, no way to understand or predict or learn about it because the schoolkids around you never understood what space or volume was.

or depth and area and circumference and diameter and radius or anything else for that matter.

…

You’re at an inn tonight, thank Change. Being caught in a storm like this on the road would be hell. Well, being in a storm is hell either way, but at least you all got to a secure place of shelter. A place of warmth and comfort and a quiet-enough room you can hide away in and pretend like you’re doing anything but hiding from yourself and this stupid crabbing storm-

You don’t know exactly where you all are, currently. Aside from being in an inn, in a relatively large town. If memory serves you correct (it has to, what else do you have?) your party is…

Somewhere close to the coast, but a lot further down than where you’ve ever been. Even Madame Odile hasn’t been this far down the country, and she’s been all over. (you stayed in the same two crabbing spots in your life)

There’s mountains nearby, that much you know. In all honesty, the lower half of Vaugarde is mostly a mystery to you. You never really got into geography. (you were too busy dealing with yourself)

It might have been a good idea, considering you’re now wandering all about the country with no exact clue where you’re all going. But that doesn’t really matter now. (even though you were never going to say you know anything anyway)

…

…

…

BANG

You stumble, trip and fall face-first onto the bed you’re supposed to be sleeping in tonight.

Crabbing Change you’re a mess today­

The thunder is always a surprise, a stupid damn surprise you’re never prepared for.

Your breaths are too shallow now

You slide off the bed onto the floor.

And cry.

And sigh.

You don’t know when the storm will end. Just that with every clap of thunder your heart stops and starts again, a cycle, an endless, repeating loop of panic and calm and panic and calm and panic and calm and panic and calmandpanicandcalmand-

There’s

something

against

your

cheek.

You think

it’s tears

you’re not supposed

to cry

but-

It’s leather. Cold, unnaturally icy to the touch. It settles against your cheeks and stays still. Firm. Gentle. Cold. You can barely feel anything else. Barely hear anything else.

You open your eyes. You don’t remember closing them.

Your heart is in your throat. You don’t even need to see to know who’s knelt down in front of you. Well, mostly standing, really. Only one of your companions wears leather gloves. Lightless, cool to the touch, roughened over untold years of travelling across more than Vaugarde, simple hand-stitching going around the edges, clearly done by an amateur.

Lightless eyes stare back at you. You’ve never seen them so close to you before. It feels like you’re lost in the night sky, tiny glimmers of something beckoning you further away from yourself, a visual siren’s song to the lost, promising a world away from your woes, red stars dancing in front of you-

It’s Sif staring at you.

Oh Change Sif is staring into your eyes HURRY BLINK LOOK AWAY-

You frantically blink and avert eye contact. You can’t speak. You can barely breathe with how hot your cheeks are getting, despite the leather still pressing against them. You can barely process that they’re speaking to you, static lost against your new flurry of emotions.

You jump and freeze again. Oh. More thunder, apparently. You stare at the hardwood floor you’re sitting on. A rich, dark brown. About the same colour as your eyes, even. How funny. You assume it must be very durable, considering it’s being used as flooring for a multi-story inn being hit with a monster of a storm.

Pretty deep brown, some panels a little lighter than others…

“It’s walnut.”

huh

You blink, looking back up at Sif, who’s blinking back at you. His hands are off your face. When did that happen? You blink again.

“The flooring of this inn’s walnut. Rich dark brown, pretty durable, pretty pricey… it lightens with age.”

17 words in a row from Siffrin? They were reasonably loud, too. Like, the normal volume for someone talking.

“The fact that certain panels in the flooring are lighter means they’re older than the other panels, meaning the darker ones were probably replaced.”

24 more words. Add on the 17 and 2 from before and that would be 33 words in the past minute.

You still can’t find any words. They’re standing fully now, looking on you from above, like an an- like a perfectly normal human being who just so happens to be above you currently, crabbing Change Isabeau-

Siffrin is staring at you, blinking. You blink back.

“… you feeling better?”

His voice is quiet again. It feels… musical, almost. A lyre being played in the surf, the tinkling of chimes in the salty air. The songs of the seabirds flying in, the people talking as they gather amongst the market stalls, looking over catches of fish and seafood, the shade away from the scorching sun.

Darkless hair weaved into waves, fluttering about in the coastal winds.

…

You’ve… never properly been to the coast. And you’ve never seen young people with darkless hair. That only happens with much older people.

“Isa.”

Oh right. Sif asked if you were feeling better.

You try to open your mouth and speak, but only a garbled mess of sound comes out. Your cheeks grow warmer, now with the embarrassment of fumbling your words in front of Siffrin. Good job, Isabeau. You’ve done a terrible job.

They turn to the side briefly, a gloved hand raising up to cover their mouth. A cough, maybe? It is cold and wet after all, and they were running through it for a little while before finding their current lodging.

He turns back to you and offers a hand.

“Get up and sit on the bed, at least. Hardwood floors aren’t that comfy.”

You get up. Your bones creak, even though you’re only twenty-four and in good shape. Insulting.

Siffrin does the maybe-cough thing again. You should check if they’re sick, later.

You sit on the bed. It’s comfortable. More comfortable than the walnut flooring. You can call it that, now that you know the wood. You should ask Sif about different types of wood sometime later, since they seem to know a bit about it.

You’re being poked again, in the shoulder this time. You’re tired. It takes a few seconds for you to register what is happening. It takes a few more seconds for you to turn your head, and even more to blink at Sif again.

They sigh, shadows dancing in their eyes.

“Lay down, Isa. Please.”

You blink and do as instructed. You’re… not sure what you’re feeling, aside from exhausted. You haven’t even done anything and you feel like you lifted a hundred kilograms thirty times. That would be a total of three thousand kilograms.

The pillows are cold and soft. You sink into them. You don’t move your legs. You will need to get up again soon, to go downstairs and eat with everyone else.

…

All of whom you’ve been avoiding since you got in.

That’s a problem for future Isabeau. Present Isabeau is currently enjoying the comfy bed he’s laying on, with heavy bones and eyes.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see Sif smile. It’s small, like flower petals in a clear pond of water. He says something you can’t exactly make out, and leaves the room.

Your eyes are heavy.

…

It’s raining. The lightless cumulonimbus clouds coat the sky, torrents raining down.

You’re warm.

It’s nice.

---

trying to understand how i want to write isabeau. he's obviously a smart guy who did a lot of studying, and he has the best emotional intelligence of the party (mira is second), but considering he was such a shy kid i pulled on my experiences as "the shy kid" (i was just autistic and hated people) a little bit.

also headcanon that isa isnt too fond of storms because. loud noises. sudden lights. he likes to know things and he cant exactly know storms. odile is v similar to me in that way.

anyway. ill be back. maybe with more writing. later.

ko-fi for any who want to chuck a couple dollars my way

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

me watching jj read the note that is entirely in cursive knowing in my heart that man can't read shit for shit in cursive:👁👁

[luna-of-ophelia]

interiors of my main house 🍞

[newtexcwl]

I feel if Finn lived in the founders island and had the normal education for a human , he would have been a nerd .

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[nicomoon69]

art fight ref for my special lil guy <3

ALSO TAMAKI DOODLE CAUSE HES LITERALLY ME

[ssiegfriedsystem]

「A hundred years had passed. So, so much has changed in the world, but not as much to Kazukiー

And the golden vestiges of someone still donning an all too familiar scar, smiling on the back of his mind.」

[beachyserasims]

♡ Episode 9 | GENEVA ISLAND

♡ Autumn woke up and talked with Sean, Judi, and Rowan all morning, enjoying the company of good friends. On her one-on-one with the new islander Justin, her first impression of him is that he is off in dreamland.

♡ Judi spent the morning chatting with Sean, Autumn, and Rowan. When meeting Justin, her first impression is that he is utterly charmless.

♡ Jasmine talked with Blakes and helped him cook all morning. When he asked her to be his girlfriend she accepted without giving much thought, because she wants Blakes to herself after the Sophie incident. When meeting Justin, she accepted his flirting. She became upset to see Blakes upset with her, and she questioned moving too fast. Her head was an a swivel all night between the two boys.

♡ Rowan likes to work out every morning to keep up his physique for not only his job but also his rugged hobby lifestyle. He spent the morning helping cook and chatting with Sean and Judi. When he met the new islander, Justin, his first impression is that he is reasonable.

♡ Sean woke up hungover, which he seems to do often. His looming fear of failure and death catches up to him every morning as he continuously has nightmares of losing what he worked hard for back at home. That, and he is nervous that the experience will be a waste of time. He met Justin and thinks he is reasonable because of how similar they are to each other.

♡ Blakes woke up and talked with Jasmine before making breakfast with hers and Rowans help, and asked Jasmine to be his girlfriend which she accepted. He doesn’t like Justin and thinks he is in dreamland. Later, he caught Justin flirting with Jasmine and it made him very upset.

♡ Justin entered the Villa and had one-on-one time with each girl while they played a game of chess. He met Autumn and had the first impression that she is pretentious, and gave her a suggestive look while they played. When he met Jasmine, his first impression of her is that she is funny, and he thinks she is very charming.  He met Judi last, and thought she is not his type. When meeting Sean, he thinks he is sophisticated and likes his style, and thinks Rowan and Blakes are both imaginative. In the evening, he flirted with Jasmine.

The Start || Episode #1 || Previous || Next

[shieldsurf]

out of the big 4 het/canon fairy tail pairings jerza is by Far the worst imo like. he needs to leave her alone i'm so serious and the fact that mashima wrote in a 7 year age gap for no reason is Not helping... erzas ass is NINETEEN the first time jellal makes an open pass at her i don't care that they used to be the same age it is fucking weird. gruvia is a close second though because while yes we objectify men here sir and i live to serve women juvia's creepiness is really just too much like at a certain point it starts to feel really gross and the fact that gray seems to fall for her by the end of the anime/manga just reeks of coercion. not even bringing up how genuinely awful juvia's character writing is she gets like 5 minutes of being interesting before getting instantly reduced to a creepy stan who completely revolves around gray and has less depth than the average bossfight of the week. i guess its equality that erza and mirajane are some of the best characters in this story (which is admittedly a low bar considering half of their personality is being subjected to the most voyeuristic shots possible) so mashima had to balance it out by making juvia one of the worst

[emailandpassword]

Leon S Kennedy disassociates while he brushes his teeth. He’ll stand in front of the sink, staring at his own eyes in the mirror, but rather than seeing himself, he sees something even farther in the darks of his pupils. And he’ll brush and brush and brush, the tap water running, til the toothpaste bubbles turn white in his mouth. He’s lost track of it all.

[sasster]

i love nothing more than sitting in an establishment be it a store a waiting room or whatever and getting to hear the employees actually playing around with each other and enjoying each others company

[sesamenom]

fun fact: hes specifically 9/16 elf, 6/16 human, and 1/16 maia! also fun fact: due to the maiarin ancestry on elwings side of the family, earendil is the only (iirc) literal half-elf, as in 50/50 elf/human heritage, in the history of ever.

Elrond be like: I am 4/8 human, 3/8 elf, and 1/8 angel. My mother is a bird and my father is the North Star. My twin brother was the first king of Atlantis but somehow I seem to be more famous than him. I am one of three ringbearers, the other two being the female version of Feanor and a guy who loves fireworks. My foster father is a crazy homeless guy who likes music and his whole family is dead. My many-greats grandnephew is in love with my daughter. No one can tell my sons apart. I like waterfalls and am both a glorified innkeeper and a top-notch doctor. I am the voice of reason no one listens to.