#but some... lore?
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I FORGOT THE PROMPTTTT i am so sorry 😭 younger espio being a bit feral. he bites vector. chews his hand. little beast
ahhh... good idea
how about some feralness from fear, maybe a fresh relationship and broken trust type o deal? let's give this a go
Vector sighed as his vision began to focus.
He didn't mean to fall asleep in his chair, but it was the comfiest place at the moment. Hopefully he could find an old mattress on the roadside or at least a worn out couch sometime soon, so he didnt have to keep sleeping on a stack of flattened cardboard.
There was of course a worse alternative- he looked pointedly at his new roomie who stood in the doorway. The lizard child he had recently taken in was odd, always sleeping while standing bolt upright and waking at any small disturbance. Vector still had no idea where he came from or even how old he was, just that he was desperate... and very small.
"Good mornin to ya!" he called out, grimicing at the kids shocked recoil at first. "Hey, chill. I'm not gonna bite!"
He shook his head, at least the little guy wasn't pointing his knife at him with every word. The food probably helped...
"C'mere! Yea you! Let's talk a second." he rapped his fingers on the desk as the lizard slowly approached at his nod. "C'mon slow poke.. hey there, so now that you're living here, I ought ta ask you some stuff.. like..."
He was a bit put off by how empty those big yellow eyes seemed when looking at him, but pushed on.
"What's your name?" he pointed straight at him, hoping the gesture would help him understand. Empty staring back wasn't the response he was after.
Vector was fine with someone being shell shocked, hell, he knew how rough it could be living on the streets, no one to care for you. But there was a limit to his patience, this kid hadn't said more than a peep for 2 weeks at this point.
"Okay, I'm just gonna assume you just don't got one.. Don't worry, let's just call ya..." he scanned around the room for an idea, landing on the TV "Pana- .. Sonic, let's call ya Sonic... ugh that's garb, we'll get ya a better one later..."
"Sonic" sneered a bit at the name, Vector didn't blame him.
"So... Sonic, Lemme get a good look at ya.. huh, I know lizards can be pretty small but... Eh don't worry, you'll get bigger when you start eatin'..." he noted the little face beginning to tense up "Where did ya come from? I mean you were by the docks.. were you in the city? I don't think I've seen those kinds of shoes in seaside tho..."
Vector felt his patience wear ever thinner as "Sonic" continued to be unresponsive, but he was beginning to understand a bit more about the little guy just from the visual cues.
"Ooohhhh... you got no idea what I'm saying, do ya! You ain't dumb, You're foreign! And if I didn't know better I'd say you were some kinda stow away! Did you hitch a ride on one of those fishing boats? You're Japanese, aren't ya!"
Vector scrambled madly around his desk for anything he could use to help with his new deduction, sliding a newspaper across the desk to where the young lizard could glance at it.
"Oh there's a Japanese section in there! Something about that scientist bozo who's been screwing up the place so he can build... I don't even know... Some guy called... Egg something..."
Vector lifted the paper and turned to the page, hard to make out the article with a large coffee ring stain over it but he smirked at the grainy photo and pointed to it
"Get a loada' this fool! What is he wearing?"
The kid snatched the newspaper and stared at the picture, panic clear in his eyes.
"Hey gimme that, I'll read it to ya"
He recoiled sharply.
"Gimme, ya little shit" he reached for the paper, not waiting for confirmation.
He pulled away as "Sonic" hissed at him.
"Okay that's it, that's not even yours you little bastar-!"
Vector cut himself off with a shriek as teeth dug into his hand.
"WHAT THE- WHAT THE SHIT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" he tugged to get his hand back, but the bite force of this small chameleon was far more formidable than he could have imagined. His gloves were torn and reddened by the time he recovered his hand from the feral creature he, for some reason, let into him home.
They came soon to a stare off, shock and fear echoing in each other as the adrenaline wore out, Vector keeping a tight grip on his wound.
Finally, the small lizard rattled off his first words to Vector. It would have meant a lot to the young croc if he understood a word, but there was no signs of english in any of it. It was strange for someone Vector's size to be afraid of a mere child, but something in how furious the words came out and the rapid succession in which they did was enough for him to get one thing.
This kid had been through... something....
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
#whew boy this make me anxious just typing it#wrestling#middle school#the dread#i feel like i have to write some stories about my grandpa not being a dick#because he was actually an amazing grandpa#he just had a few goofs are very comedic moments#and you know if you're gonna have a goof making it comedic is a virtue in itself#he was there for me more than a lot of my classmates dads were#and i dont want that undervalued#yeah#babylon-lore
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Another prophecy fulfilled…
#art#fantasy art#cat#cats#nya#theres some silly lore behind this one#inks#ink art#black cat#traditional art
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Move To A Darker Place
This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.
---
Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.
My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God. He taught himself how to use his smartphone. Internationally.
So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.
It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity.
“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”
The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.
a.k.a: A Selfie.
“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.
Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.
“Oh. You should have said so.” Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.
Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.
“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid. My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.
Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution: He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.
But I digress.
After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.
And here is where the real trouble began.
See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose. While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.
He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada. He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.
He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.
She looked back at him, and farted.
“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her.
She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.
So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.
The System thought about it for a few moments.
Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.
“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”
He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.
“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.
Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System. It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”. He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.
As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.
“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.
“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.
Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room. It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds. Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.
“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled.
“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.
Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.
“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan. With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.
This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.
“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted. The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.
Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.
“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.
He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone.
“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.
Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape. She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.
“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.
To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!
“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”
---
I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.
It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times. Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System. It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.
“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy! My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year. I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”
He handed me the image.
My father was, technically, in the image. A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair. Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.
“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”
“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing).
“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”
Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked car?” he asked suspiciously.
“The very same.” Dad grinned.
“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”
---
I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!
#Family Lore#Dogs#arwen#Arwen the Crime Dog#Taxes#Ronald Regan mention (derogatory)#long post under the cut#this one is funny this time#I could really use some extra tip money this month
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An old man with new white hairs
#chilchuk tims#Dunmesh#dungeon meshi#chilchuck#Oui je continue le lore dadchuck syndicaliste#delicious in dungeon#Not really satisfied with this one for some reason#Couldnt get it to look like i wanted
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Entrance pt.3
<<Previous Next>>
ComicArchive/ About / Linktree
#linkeduniverse#owls everywhere. What a mysterious dungeon to have an owl gimmick…#There's inconsistent monster lore in Zelda and it's interesting stuff. Anti-fairies bubbles wisps sparks all so similar yet different#I know I learned way too late that some dungeons have an endless supply of fairies#thanks to respawning enemies like Anti-Fairies
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there’s lots of fake ass duality. there’s tons of old swinging pendulums.
you were tailor made for this era!
tick. tock. tick. tock.
#mesmerizer#vocaloid#kasane teto#hatsune miku#my art#at some point i will make a post detailing the lore behind these two. because i have dragged my friend bug into my autism hell#and we have created lore.#yes i linked my spotify mesmerizer fanmix. click my link boy (gender inclusive)
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I just had a DPxDC crossover idea that I thought was funny.
What if every time John Constantine sold his soul he was basically agreeing to being “adopted” by the entity he was selling his soul to.
He thinks all of the entities he sold his soul to are leaving him alone because they’re too busy fighting/have a truce to not fight as long as none of them claim his soul, meanwhile he’s got like a dozen or so ghost/demon parents ready to go to court to fight for custody when he finally dies.
Danny, having been taken in as a ward by an older ghost since he technically counts as a baby ghost until he’s 100 or something, meets Constantine for the first time and is like: “Why are you 1/15th my brother?”
Bonus points if Danny is technically the big brother in ghost terms because he’s been a ghost the longest. Sure Constantine may be a little liminal but that doesn’t count he doesn’t even have a death day yet.
Like:
Danny (Certified little shit): “Baby brother why do you never come to dinner? :(”
Constantine, too sober for this: “The fuck did you just call me?”
Constantine vehemently denies any relation but they bicker like siblings.
#dc x dp#crack#john constantine#danny phantom#some ghost lore I just made up for fun cause I thought it was funny#John Constantine has a storm coming and he doesn’t even know#he’s got like 15 ghostly parents (and counting)#1/15th the same way someone with one different parent is your half brother#AU I guess?#let’s just call it#Custody battle for the ages AU
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You know what I need more of? The Batkids completely fucking with the Justice League and their rogues and coming up with stories for their existence.
Like I am talking about the creation of demigods sort of stories, like Loki sort of stories.
Duke has convinced all of Gotham that he's the Bat Signal brought to life and that's why he's never seen at night and why the signal literally doesn't work during the day. He's waiting giddily for the story to spread outside of the city.
The batkids have convinced half the League that Nightwing is quite literally Batman's lovechild with Justice. Hey, Constantine had a one night stand with the manifestation of a city and they've dealt with gods before, so surely it's not that surprising? Right???
I need more of the Batkids being little shits, of Alfred the-greatest-enabler Pennyworth backing them up and Bat(the-biggest-troll)man to never confirm the stories, but he doesn't deny them either.
#batman au#batman#dc#dcu#prompts#cryptid batfam#cryptid batman#technically human batfam but doing their darndest to convince people they aren't#and it's working#Justice League#batfam#They are making LORE for themselves#batfamily#Hilariously there's gonna be some panic from a few of the rogues that B has been with lmao#Somehow they convinced several people that the stabby Robin was made by Batman alone#There was no mother and people are very confused and a little scared to ask#I just want Chaos
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Worked on these during MCC
#my art#hermitcraft#hermitcraft design#hermitcraft s10#grian#grian fanart#gtwscar#gtws fanart#goodtimewithscar#goodtimeswithscar#mcyt#mcytblr#i hadnt expected such a big reaction toward my gem design!#so i figured (after a long wait) id at least have some more designs to share#they're pretty simple and follow the designs of their skins pretty well#i just tweaked some things for 'lore' purposes or added references where i could#granted im not caught up with either povs atm so things could be wrong
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Part 1 of my modern avatar au, the fire nation
#avatar the last airbender#atla#atla azula#atla zuko#atla mai#atla ty lee#mailee#because they in messy yuri in this au#atla modern au#technically all of them work under ozai's company in some form#azula of course is very close to power zuko is at a lower position than her#mai is under her father's department which is in ozai's company#ty lee is in an idol group sponsored by ozai's company#mai visual kei girlie in her free time duh#zuko also depicted when he finally gets out of ozai's company and works at Iroh's cafe#ive got like a decent amount of lore built up so far around this AU so dont worry sokka katara aang toph and suki have places in this world#also its set on our earth so real life locations not the nations#my art#atla fanart
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Dogged Love
#mcyt#inthelittlewood#rendog#treebark#renchanting#wild life#trafficblr#IVE CAUGHT UP ON THE LORE. I REWATCHED 3RD LIFE FROM MARTYNS POV LMAO#and some of the other life series as welllll fun day!!#i have some other king & hand doodles but I need to pick up my tablet from the studio to#uh actually draw them#because procreate is fun!! but I miss my laptop clip studio so so much. my pixelated brush... ough
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I mean this with love and kindness. I hope all the girlies who were convinced Jayce would exile Viktor and inherently despise him for using the Hexcore on himself feel real silly right now.
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane s2 spoilers#jayce talis#viktor#viktor arcane#jayvik#HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH#THAT MAN WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM#some of y’all think so low of Jayce smh#like sure he exiled him in lol lore#but their relationship in arcane is fundamentally different#they like actually get along in this one
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when your professional frenemy calls you a cradle robber and says that she looks better than you despite being a literal skull.
#emmrich volkarin#emmrichromance spoilers#dav spoilers#dragon age spoilers#veilguard spoilers#i have my complaints about some of the lore in this game but#there’s some truly wild stuff
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return of the shenanigang! 🎪 no feature to let karlach win plushies at arcade games? shh it's canon anyways 💯🧸🧸 (wyll is being told bad puns to distract him from dribbles' fate. astarion has stolen back the entirety of their coin which they lost spinning the wheel too many times)
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#karlach#wyll#astarion#durge#oc: noon#(i also wish u could've gotten some other facepaint than the clown one:( lemme give karlach a butterfly)#(and lemme go out during evenings/nights sometimes!!😤 for morale and atmosphere)#hope everyone's enjoying how i only share the important bits of how it's going#like absolutely no lore on my durge or what's properly going on or anything#but you Will hear about circus trip 💯
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Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:
Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper
Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork
Stylus = Pen
Datapad = Tablet
Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone
Binders = Handcuffs
Chronometer = Clock
Spectacles = Eyeglasses
Chrono = Watch
Conservator = Refrigerator
Caf = Coffee
Nerfburger = Hamburger
Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)
Hubba chips = French Fries
Sweet roll = Doughnut
Flatcakes = Pancakes
Tabac = Tobacco
HoloNet = World Wide Web
Holovision/HoloTV = Television
Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos
Holocamera/Holocam = Camera
Holomap = three-dimensional map
Holojournal = Newspaper
Holocube = Picture frame
Holotable = Projector
Holoscanner = X-ray machine
Holojournalist = Reporter
Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph
Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation
Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom
Sonic Bath = Bath
Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower
Hydrospanner = Wrench
Hydro Flask = Water Bottle
Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries
Authorization Chip = Decryption key
Datatape = Disk
Datastick = Flash drive
(Personal) Com Code = Phone number
Datachip = SD Card
Synthflesh = Synthetic skin
Glowrod = Flashlight
Sparkstick = Match
Slugthrower = Gun
Slug = Bullet
Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)
Rangefinder = Rifle scope
Turbolaser = Cannon
Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear
Electro Staff = Stun baton
Blaster = Pistol/Rifle
Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser
Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car
Turbolift = Elevator
Slideramp = Escalator
Starfighter = Fighter jet
Rotorcraft = Helicopter
Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack
Speeder Bike = Motorcycle
Skylane = Traffic lane
Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train
Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair
Windscreen = Windshield
Podracing = Car racing
Dejarik = Chess
Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined
Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator
B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons
Jizz = Jazz music
Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)
Cantina = Bar or Pup
Para Sailing = Paragliding
Aurebesh = Alphabet
Credits = Money
Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll
Naming Day = Birthday
Youngling = Child
Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English
Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit
Hypo = Syringe
Medic/Healer = Doctor
Medcenter = Hospital
Bactapatch = Bandaid
Nanoweave = Fabric
Transparisteel = Glass
Plastifoam = Packing material
Durasteel = Steel
Plasteel = Plastic
Duracrete = Concrete
Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)
Identikit = Passport
Minder = Therapist
Synthleather = Vinyl
Viewport = Window
Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning
Honeydarter = Bee
Slythmonger = Drugdealer
Spice = Drugs
Stimpill = Caffeine pill
Power Socket = Plug
Cutters = Scissors
Cycle = Day
Standard Cycle = 24h
Standard Week = 5 days
Standard Month = 35 standard days
Standard Year = approx. ten months
Tenday = literally ten days
Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes
Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'
Parsec = a unit of distance
Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid
Separatist = Seppie
Promise Ring = Wedding Ring
Body Glove = Jumpsuit
Slicksuit = Wet suit
Civvies = Civilian clothing
Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation
Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed
Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine
Glareshades = Sunglasses
Gasser = Gas Oven
Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects
Heating unit = Heater
Utility Droid = Roomba
Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet
Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper
Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person
Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense
Blast! = word of exclamation
Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance
Blaster-brained = dimwitted
Blaster fodder = cannon fodder
Blast off = Piss off
Brainless = Stupid
Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians
Forceforsaken = godforsaken
Full of Poodoo = full of shit
Poodoo = Shit
Kriff = Fuck
Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi
Kark = derogatory expletive
Larty = LAAT/i gunship
Laserbrain = insult
Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers
Redrobes = Palpatines guard
Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper
Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels
Sharpie = Sharp-witted
Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive
Sleemo = Slimeball
Son of a bantha = insult
Wizard! = Cool
Spaced = dead
Hutt-spawn = Bastard
Karabast = exclamation of dismay
Stang = Crap
Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers
Bucket = Helmet
Nat-born = Natural Born
Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that
Droid poppers = EMP grenade
Sitrep = short for situation report
Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system
Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.
Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.
Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb
Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier
Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments
Phrases:
Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase
That's bantha shit = that's bullshit
As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy
Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts
Cut the poodoo = cut the crap
to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something
Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god
Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise
Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief
What in the blue blazes = exclamation
When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely
Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off
Blast it = damn it
By the maker = exclamation of surprise
Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief
Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'
Sod it = expression of frustration
#shitpost incoming#I'm converting my friend into a star wars fan so I thought why not make a dictionary for every new fic reader lmao#star wars#writing star wars#star wars languages#star wars lore#im definitely missing some but these are words I've seen most commonly used in fanfic#userlumi#writing star wars fic#aurebesh#galactic basic Standard#as long as one person finds this post helpful it was worth it#youre all welcome to add to it#im stopping now coz otherwise I'mma clog the dash
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