#he was rotting fast

[selliho6530]

This is my mom telling me one of the scariest stories I've ever heard of...

[just-null]

HELLO HANTENGU NATION (5 people)

I'VE MADE AN [unofficial] HEIGHT CHART FOR MYSELF

Hantengu: 5"5 (166cm) Sekido: 5"9 (175cm) Karaku: 5"9 (175cm) Urogi: 5"9 (175cm) Aizetsu: 5"9 (174cm) Zohakuten: 5"3 (160cm) Urami: 8"5 (257cm)

[little aftermath under the cut]

they're so annoying. peace is nonexistent... they're the best ever.

[losticaruss]

chronicles of narnia: prince caspian will forever be a tragedy to me, especially in the way the movie presents it. it opens with peter, desperate to return to the respect he deserves (or thinks he deserves), a fully grown man trapped in this child's, this stranger's body, still adjusting to the life he'd long since forgotten. he gets into a fight because it's natural to him. don't they realize who is he is? not selfishly (a little bit selfishly) he expects people, his siblings, the crowd, to be with him in battle. it's another battle to him, and edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, edmund who was 12 and on the verge of death, edmund who loves his siblings the most one could ever love your own blood, is in the fray with him, and they fall back into the rhythm they were used to back home- back in narnia, and lucy and susan are screaming at them to stop, and edmund and peter see the soldiers coming home from war, and all they wants is to go back with them, and they understand how these soldiers feel, shell-shocked and distant and they want to fall into line with them, but they're kids and they're fighting other kids, they're not undisciplined, they're unadjusted. nothing changed but so did everything.

and they hop on the train and none of the pevensies want to talk about what happened and they end back in narnia and they're finally back in narnia they're home on the beaches of their home and it's a joy so grand that there's nothing they can do but go back to being kids- again, and they find cair paraval, and everything's gone- and the chessboard that edmund loved, the chessboard he played on when he first beat peter, is gone, there's nothing left of it, and they fall through the ruins like ghosts. here's the dining hall, the ballroom. remember this, lu? it used to be your bed. do you remember when you were so homesick you begged me to stay with you until you fell asleep? do you remember the way the garden bloomed in the spring? and they fall naturally in step into the dais, empty, not even the familiar sound of their shoes clacking against the polished floor. everything's gone now, of course it is. they knew how time worked in narnia, but it didn't happen to them. how could it move on without them? and they make their way into the lower floors, peter naturally falls into the trait of the leader, hes the first to forget the world they came from, but edmund, clever edmund, desperate edmund, brings a torch. he doesn't say how he packed it in his bag every day, how he packed it and prayed that they'd return. and everything is still there, in that room. nothing prepares you for seeing statues of your face- not your face, but what will be your face, what used to be your face- cracked and covered in moss. their crowns are there. everything is there. peters sword returns to his side, and it's the first time he looks complete since they left narnia. and they adventure- how much had changed? the trees are so much taller. how long now had they been gone? it was natural for narnia to have moved on, but they were meant to move on with them. peter tries to bring his siblings through his usual shortcuts, through an overpass, far from the well-trod paths that had cropped up since theyd been gone. he can't have been abandoned by his home, not so soon.

but he was. and there's a kid here, claiming to be the new ruler of narnia. who is he? he looks so young, and susan is looking at him and he's... looking back? and the civilians are looking at this stranger, this kid, like he's supposed to know what to do. had he even fought a battle? he rubs his beard- and is blocked by the bare skin of his chin (of course it's not there. he forgot.) and peter wants to be the bigger person, he's the high king, that's how it should be. but there are all these emotions he hadn't felt before- he thought, not in narnia at least. and he doesn't want to be the bigger person, he finds. stop looking at him like he should know what to do! he stands up to take over- his people forgot about him. he left and they forgot. and he sizes up this child as he speaks- high king peter of narnia, he says. the magnificent. and there it is, he thinks. the familiar look, shock, awe and- confusion? that's a new one- but not incorrect, as he realizes his situation.

he wants to be recognized how he used to be. the pevensies have returned to what they were, the warrior, the archer, the diplomat, the healer. and this new one, the one who wanted to be all four at once so desperately it made ed look wise. and finally- finally he gets his chance to shine, where he belongs, on the field, against The Enemy. of course, not how he'd like it, not in broad daylight, sword and armor gleaming, but it was the smart move. and he's filled with these emotions- not dread, or worry (maybe a little worry), but excitement, and everything is pounding in his head and the adrenaline- he forgot how good it feels- and he leads the army, his army. he's the warrior, the high king, and for a night, the people remember, they remember the golden age. and ed is brilliant, and peter can't help but grin with glee as he sees him pull of a maneuver that pete knows took months of training.

and then the hoards come and they're losing- they can't be losing, this was his chance! he's right, he's the king this was his chance to show them. and he cries for a retreat but it's too late- he was a fool, he watches his army, the army who trusted him, he watched them be slaughtered against the gates that had sealed their fate. he watched the blood spray and stain the metal, oozing between the stone bricks and he just stares. and it's all he can do and he wants- what does he want? to say he's sorry? to save them?

no- no, nothing like that. he should be in there with them. he should be gutted like the rest of them (a hero's death, not this cowards life). he went in too fast, too proud, he knows that. but to have these innocents follow him in willingly, blindly, and he's the one to make it out? it's unforgivable.

and then he's given another chance. a fight- a duel, to the death. he leaves the arena a victor, or he dies a martyr, and everyone forgets his sins of the night of the ambush. and he fights the best he can, he loses his helmet, he's injured and he can hear death whistling it's grim tune, and he almost doesn't pick up his sword, and he sees edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, with hope in his eyes- with faith in his eyes, and peter knows, he certainly doesn't deserve the life he's been longing for, but he picks up his sword because his little brother, his little brother who almost died, whom he loves with all his heart and so much more. and he accepts it. he realizes he won't get it back, his golden age, but he can fight for edmund, for narnia. and he fights. he fights and he fights and he fights.

and when it's over he breaths the sweet narnian air, and he clasps the hand of caspian, another brother, not a blood one, nor a narnian one, but one of a deeper connection, deeper than any love, and he sees susan smiling. the pevensies and caspian are celebrated like kings, and the pevensies help caspian, still a child, overwhelmed with all this love, they guide him through it, preparing for the many days in the future when parades and celebrations fill the streets, and the people adore their rulers- their king.

it's their last time, he tells the others. once they leave, him and susan can't return. there's more on the other side, the other world, another way to return to narnia, to Aslan, and he doesn't share the fear in his heart. another way, but not this way. not through his home, where he's surrounded by it, drenched in it. not the same not the same, never the same again. they could stay, of course, says a foolish side of him. but not, they couldn't, it's stupid to say so. his mother- had he forgotten his mother so soon? she would go mad with loss. his golden age, it's come and past, and narnia moved on without him, and he steps through to the train station, not to his home, (no. he can never go home again.) and susan follows him, and she grasps his hand, a look shared between the two of them that she understands. and peter, one last chance to be the bigger person, he sees her loss and he squeezes her hand back. edmund and lucy they think they understand, and they grasp their elder siblings hands, and it's comforting, but peter and susan know, they know they won't understand, not until it's their turn, they won't know how empty it is, how lonely it is in this world.

so yeah. it's a tragedy

[thenerdyalchemist]

*holds gently* Pairo lives Au I love you

[glitter-alienz]

Hun told him to try it

i luv fast foward btw i was rewatching it so the brainrot is strong

[corvidaeconundrum]

Finally posting that Mark Owens playlist I made a long ass time ago. Now I can crack my knuckles and start pouring as many vocaloid songs as possible into Adam’s

Dear God is so Mark coded it hurts me and I want to scream and cry and weep

[queerdiazs]

tease tuesday + wip wednesday 🕊

(i'm smashing these 2 days together because i like to break the rules)

anyway have a lil bit of hoa eddie, uh, getting a hard dick for buck before dinner with his Nemesis

“You’re staring at me.” Buck shuffles forward, a few steps away from Eddie; he smells like mint and vanilla because he used Eddie’s shampoo like he always does and roses, too, that expensive cologne he pays half an arm for.  “I am.”  “Do I look bad?”  No. Not at all. He’s wearing tight black jeans that hug the length of his long, thick legs in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination and a black knit sweater that has his biceps bulging and his tummy poking through and it’s obscene because he’s so goddamn thick that even normal clothes look small on him.  Buck looks all different kinds of great and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that or the tickle in his chest, the heavy heat in his gut. The gold chain with the little sunshine at the bottom sits pretty between his tits, a present Chris got him last year for Christmas that’s a fucking gift right now for Eddie. Christ.   He blinks. “No,” he says, maybe a little too fast, but he can’t be blamed. Especially not when Buck looks as gorgeous as he does, in front of Eddie and in his bedroom with a door that locks. “You look pretty. That color is nice on you.”  “It’s black.”  “Okay?” Eddie bristles. The tips of his ears burn. “It looks good.”  Buck fingers the hem of his sweater. “Thanks,” he says, whisper-soft and ruddy-cheeked like he’s embarrassed or something, before looking up and giving Eddie a dazzling smile. “You, uh, look good, too.”  And Eddie does. He’s wearing his best pair of blue jeans and a dark green sweater he found in the back of his closet that he knows looks good on him because Marisol couldn’t keep her hands off when he wore it, but he has nothing on Buck. Nothing at all.  “Buck—” “I need—” Christopher barges in the room, knocking the door against the wall like he pays the bills. “You guys take so long.” 

tagged by @daffi-990, @jesuisici33, and @wikiangela mwah i adore all of you!

tagging @callmenewbie, @callaplums, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @honestlydarkprincess, @wildlife4life, @thewolvesof1998, @try-set-me-on-fire, @exhuastedpigeon, @fortheloveofbuddie, @giddyupbuck, @ladydorian05, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy, and anybody else who wants to share 🫶🏼

[faaun]

pls i need to provide updates

[cuntfan]

Good omens brain rot has me acting crazy, I'm out here watching a show made by absolute menace Steffen Moffat (idk how his name is spelt and idc) just cuz it has David Tennant in it after promising myself to never put myself through such horrors again

[lycanr0t]

i feel very frustrated about the trend of giving chil body hair bc if it was any other anime twink i would be thrilled its just that it seems to only be because people are SO afraid of him looking young they have to make him hairy to justify liking him in ships.

meanwhile it does directly go against canon (he literally is supposed to look like a child. this is integral to both his character and his race's lore as a whole and it makes no damn sense that he would be mistaken for a child if he has body hair i mean. cmon.)

and it's like. some men are hairless. some men look young. when youre a trans man in your 20s-30s its especially common to be mistaken for a teenager, even more so if you're not on t. and short. these traits do not make you less of a man or an adult. :/

[buryam-soul]

I hope picking the Male Rover from Wuthering Waves is the reason I sort out my gender situation bcs that would be a pretty funny way for that to happen

[teenagemutantninjatrauma]

Shoutout to @/agenticed’s little Stockshop fic called Infestation which is technically about hysterical domestic shenanigans but got me spinning some horrific horrific Stockman headcanons again <3333

⚠️ Full warning, this gets a little fucked up and graphic, Insane In The Membrane style.

Like…… after everything, I think Stockman has some majorrrr trauma about rot (for Insane In The Membrane reasons) and rodents (for Mousers reasons) specifically, but also pests in general.

His lab is always, always pristine. The moment something got used it’s getting rinsed, everything goes back in its place, and partially this is just y’know, general lab safety, it’s good practice. But part of it is, what if something doesn’t get cleaned properly right away, what if you touch something and it will react with your skin, eat at it, melt it, ruin it.

He can’t leave dishes in the sink. The moment the food’s eaten, everything is getting washed, or he’s never gonna bring himself to touch it. What if it rots? What if there’s mold? What if he accidentally breathes it in? What if it catches onto him, roots in his flesh, burrows too deep in him to ever be rid of it?

It’s the worst with dead bodies, honestly. He doesn’t see many of them these days (thank God) but working with the organic Mousers can lead to the occasional corpse, either of a Mouser or something it had caught, and while dissecting his own creations properly in his lab tends to be fine (safe space, familiar process on a familiar project, focus on the science like you always have, you can always rely on science), the Mousers are experimental and sometimes die outside while working and have to be retrieved. Sometimes it takes a while for people to retrieve them.

And those can be terrifying.

When the flesh smells of rot and is being overtaken by scavengers, worms and bugs and all sorts of small living things, when it starts falling apart easier, so much easier than it should, it’s hard not to make it personal. It’s hard not to think about your own lower jaw slowly, gradually, unhinging from where it’s supposed to be, of your eyesight blurring much faster than it’s supposed to, it’s hard not to think of falling apart, witnessing yourself dying long before death takes you.

I think about that a lot.

[just-null]

the way you drew kokichi .. i think im ascending to the heavens .. i see the light .. chest collapsing .. heartbeat flatlining ..

oho, a Kokichi enjoyer!! tysm!! it was my first time drawing him at the time so im glad i didnt fail him. i dont want to fail any of the kyoto group. i love them all!! even w my clear favoritism

he's nice too, a bit more expressive than Noritoshi so i can finally draw something that isnt :| or >:( even if it isnt by much- i like him too

I like how he's both a dick but also kinda sweet. He's a different flavor of tsun... i can use this. my knowledge on him is limited but FROM WHAT I SAW IN THE WIKI OH MY GOD???????? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! KOKICHI!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bitegore]

i really have to look moer into fanfictions these days. i know in ye ancient days of 2016 it did not feel like anyone was writing the onesided obikin obiwan->anakin nonsense that I wanted to read, but now everyone's talking about found divorce and shit so maybe there are finer things in the fandom now.

[deeez-n]

if any of u knew anything abt western asian/arabic culture u would have written the best cynonari fics ever. just do ur research ppl

[fuzziemutt]

I wish I was like a god at cars and just able to fix that shit in my yard with ease and say yeah the shitbox 4th plug just needs a bit more elbow grease but I ain't letting this fucker die yet, yet here I am kicking its damn stationary wheel for the 50th time