#i guess?? it's from the manga so..

[wardingshout]

apple season

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[akai-anna]

one of the best things in detco: conan and shinichi appearing side by side in frames/panels

another note: shinichi literally forgetting he's kudou shinichi bc he got used to being conan. iconic. it slipped his mind. oops.

[spookygibberish]

I love Jar of Mice! I've never seen creature designs like Thrones before.

You mention Ibis tissue in some of the posts, and I read the old post about it - has the lore changed since then? Does it have anything to do with the bones of God at Godtomb?

I'm very flattered! I don't think of Thrones as particularly creative but I suppose that's because I know all the ingredients for them... Actually let me take this post as an excuse to go into them a bit!

I extremely enjoy taurs and human "hybrid" style creatures like sphinxes a massive amount, but there are a ton of artists who's particular styles and sensibilities have inspired me. Coming to mind off the top of my head are artists on social media like Bwusagi, Suzumori521, Deerchip, Theveryworstthing, iliothermia, and definitely more...

I tend to collect a lot of art of centaurs, sphinxes, harpies, and dragons that catches my fancy, here's some of it:

(An Islamic depiction of Sagittarius, Salome Sphinx by Nicholas Kalmakoff, ????, Nagas by Rabi Behera, Şahmaran)

Edit: forgot the Lamassu, which is a more specific inspiration than any of the things above or below.

Jim Woodring is one of my inspirations for Thrones that people tend to clock, and they're correct. It's probably the colors, patterns, eyes, shapes.....

Oh and.

Her.

And for the second question, yes! The tissue was once on the bones, although the Ibis tissue used in the temples for the creation of dagnyds is much more equivalent to a cell culture than anything at this point. It's desire to grow and take form is the creative force that humans have harnessed to create dagnyds..... for better or worse.

I don't have any art of it i'm happy with, but here's some several year old pixel art of an Oracle Computer, which is filled with the stuff. Honestly though, I don't think "black goo" is very compelling or visually interesting considering what the stuff actually is. It needs work.

Everything always needs work...

[bramblepatch]

So, speaking as an anime viewer

I think it's very interesting how starkly Laios and Kabru's strengths are inversely parallel? In everything except (I am assuming) culinary interest, Kabru is about people the way Laios is about monsters. His analysis of the Touden party is obviously biased, but the fact that he was able to narrow the mystery adventurers down to them so quickly when Laios clearly has no fucking idea who else is working the dungeon is notable. And demonstrating his knowledge of his own people with the same kind of snap battlefield analysis that makes Laios so effective against monsters? Chef's kiss.

But on the other hand, it's clear by now that our main party's great strength is how they're all, in different ways, extremely in tune with the dungeon. The ecosystem, the infrastructure, the historical and arcane context - honestly, the "eat what we find" gambit depends on a perspective that views the dungeon as an inherently productive and dynamic system.

And Kabru just completely lacks that. He seems to view the dungeon entirely as an obstacle to overcome, by brute force if possible; he explicitly says that he thinks it's morally wrong to enter the dungeon for any reason other than to neutralize it or to cull monsters on a large and deliberate scale. And like, he had a point about the corrupt body collectors... but I'm not sure he has enough of a point to justify executing the entire group and purposefully dumping their bodies in a way that would prevent retrieval and resurrection, trapping their ghosts indefinitely.

So, at least Laios understands that he's bad with people and makes an honest effort to connect with them anyway. Kabru views the dungeon as inherently hostile and his lack of understanding is actively making the environment worse. Neither of them currently has any business assuming more authority than "leader of an adventuring party," but Laios at least has demonstrated a willingness to improve.

[nexadarling]

Time to be fucking sad. Vash talks to God exactly once in Trimax (as of the end of vol 10 at least). Like he goes into church once, laments about how he thinks he is unforgivable, but that's musing to himself. He's not actually talking to God or praying.

No, Vash talks to God exactly once, to ask for the only thing he ever requests. The only thing he wants, and the possibly the only thing he allows himself to want. And of course by the time he allows it, it's entirely too late.

Vash talks to God to ask for exactly one thing. To save Wolfwood, to let him live. So they can share their tomorrows. And by the time Vash lets himself ask for this one thing, he already knows how futile it is. Sitting next to his best friend, probably the only person who can come close to understanding him, he talks to God for the first time. And God does not answer.

[soupsandstars]

Mob Psycho 100 scene adaptation from the Reigen spinoff for fun/practice!

bonus Tome and Serizawa

[seagreenstardust]

Izuku “so polite I can’t even imagine calling friends by their first names even if they ask me to but I will stubbornly use Kacchan for my enemy turned rival turned friend turned ??!? until my very last dying breath” Midoriya

[fumifooms]

Helki compilation

Helki is a prisoner-turned-servant. He’s a criminal canary and was implicitly one of Milsiril’s charges, and now that she’s retired he’s become her servant.

He must have gotten into Milsiril’s good graces, wether through attachment or convenience, which is a feat considering Milsiril’s a socially anxious recluse. Interesting since it’s not like he seems like the agreeable type, shifty upbeat delinquent style… We really don’t know much about him, not even what crimes he did, so there’s a lot of space for speculation on all grounds.

Edit: Shanghai QnA with Kui gave us a new juicy morsel of info!

Interesting… The original answer in japanese is: パッタドルと同じような杖を使っていました。今も同じものを支給されているのですが、すぐになくすのでもはや携帯していないようです。 That it’s written in japanese seems to say that there isn’t the same double translation issue there was last QnA, so if someone wants to look at the original phrasing and word choices it can be done. Perhaps Helki-Milsiril has a more protégé dynamic undertone than previously thought… "For various reasons", meaning circumstances that made it so the squad had to choose between saving him and saving their own skin, or like, "man this guy’s personality sucks we don’t really like him"? Likely to be a mix of several things, since ‘for various reasons’ implies the situation was either complex or they had multiple reasonings. In either case, the phrasing is very much that Milsiril couldn’t abandon him herself, and so a relationship sprung out of that. Another instance of outcasts seeking out and sticking with other outcasts in Dungeon Meshi. This could mean that it’s a bit less out of personal attachment and more out of a sense of duty on Milsiril’s side as well though.

Still edit: So then maybe him staying with Rin in that comic isn’t that much because of work ethics or that he cares for kids (or maybe he does because he feels kinship to them, alone and mistreated), but because he didn’t want to join the other canaries in that room chatting and laughing… Maybe the isolation was exacerbated because he became Milsiril’s favorite, teacher’s pet style, but I’d also be careful about assuming the others disproportionately dislike him, it could be that they just don’t really care for him. Why? Could be because of his personality, because he’s seen as shifty or unreliable or annoying, if an event, who knows who knows, but I like to think because of the Rin comic that he generally just tends to be a loner, that he’s "weird" in a neurodivergent vibe, he doesn’t conform to proper social behavior which in elven society seems especially alienating. He’s the only one with Rin to think of her sake, not only worth observing/caring for but also asks her to eat, but he does this with an offputting stare, not really emoting, and then well, the infamous alone with her staring munching covered in blood panel. He stands out. I’m a fan of the theory that it was a "Helki? Not that I dislike the guy but I’m not risking my skin for him" situation… Ok end edit back to older observations.

He seemed to be acting out of his own initiative in the Rin comic, he doesn’t look thrilled to be there in many post-canary comics but he also seems content enough. He restrains Milsiril in the Mithrun cleaning comic which is interesting to think of for their relationship.

It’s fun to notice how he’s the only one that didn’t get bored of looking after Rin, and then reports back about her condition… I’d say he was getting used to taking care of kids which would come with the job of serving Milsiril, but then, not enough for him to clean the blood off himself hah. In this way it’s interesting to think about his relationship to the idea of parenthood, he’s probably the closest thing to a father figure/male role model Kabru had growing up, without mentioning the other kids. I feel like he’d consider himself an older brother, cousin or uncle figure sooo much sooner than a father, but even then I do think it’s just his job and he’s not really invested or forming real relationships with any of them much.

It’s curious to note that he’s dressed in canary uniform presumably after having been pardoned and living with Milsiril? Which you can tell by the armor bits (the yellow strips of spider silk). In the Kabru training montage and the Rin comic specifically. It seems very implausible for him to have still been a canary while being a retired Milsiril’s servant and being with her all the time, and the cleaning with Mithrun comic (where he’s not in uniform) happens after Utaya so it could happen after Kabru was taken in but around the time of the Rin comic. So why uniform? It could be one of the best outfits he has, so it’d make sense to wear it around especially if you’re sparring or getting… Blood on you? Could just be because that's how Milsiril wants him to dress. But yeah we don't know when exactly Helki becoming Milsiril’s servant happened. We do see Mithrun’s charge Cithis be tasked with taking care of him, so a charge being given a servant-caretaker role doesn’t seem all that out of the ordinary, sometimes even prior to retiring.

Imo, if he doesn't work for Milsiril he goes back to jail/the canaries/has to try and get a job instead of just tending to her, so Helki is staying with Milsiril because she's the best option for him. He’s her milsiril's personal servant and does mostly dull tasks involved in that. He’s not particularly suited to the role but they’ve gotten used to each other to him so she took him with her, and he does prefer it to canary work so it works out decent for him. I think he’s used to reading her and managing her moods and he’s one of the rare social connection she has.

Under spoiler is stage 2 interpretation stuff, bigger speculation, in a reblog I’ll make soon I’ll go over my thoughts for stage 3 interpretation lol. Helsiril I’m coming for you

Translation of the canary hierachy chart used is by Thatsmimi, here

[zuzu-draws]

[ JUJUTSU KAISEN VOL 29 COVER : TRUE FORM SUKUNA ]

[possamble]

farcille postcanon characterization warmup that got way out of hand. beware, here be spoilers, dragoncock, and bottoming as an extreme sport.

~~~

Marcille has always loved Falin’s voice. Soft, high, airy and girlish—it was always as gentle as the rest of her, even in the midst of pitched combat. When things went to hell in a handbasket, it was always Falin’s whispery incantations that kept Marcille grounded as blood and monster guts sailed through the air. 

And that hasn’t changed. No amount of dragon could really change that, Marcille thinks. Yes, she she has moments when her voice becomes rough and ragged and guttural, mostly when she’s swinging her mace or her fists, or gritting her teeth through a monster claw stuck into her side. But maybe that urge to growl was always there, and she’s just finally able to voice it now. Marcille finds that she’s loud at times she would have been silent before—grunting with exertion when she would have grimaced quietly, singing some nonsense melody over a mundane task when she would have hummed it under her breath—and that’s a good thing.

But otherwise, nothing has changed. Falin’s voice is as delicate as ever, chiming in a lilting giggle behind a dainty gesture of her hand. Rustling like pages of well-loved books as she casts her protective wards, or ponders over how to cook a new monster, or murmurs right into Marcille’s ear while she…

Well. While she’s got Marcille bent over her own desk with her nightgown pooled at her ankles. Marcille’s not sure if it’s rude or considerate that she didn’t get a chance to dress herself before she had a girthy cock shoved up her cunt first thing in the morning. 

“Marcille,” Falin whispers, unfairly shaky as if she’s the one getting fucked within an inch of her life. She’s mouthing at Marcille’s neck, draped over her and pressing as close as possible in every way, gripping Marcille’s hands tight and keening like she’s found heaven between her legs. “Marcille, Marcille…” 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she gets to do that, that she gets to sound like that—with that sweet voice she’s always had, now making obscene little noises that are still whispery fine and almost ethereal coming from her mouth. These quiet, barely voiced sighs that puff against Marcille’s ear, the dulcet moans that thrum against her skin, and that demure little gasp when she thrusts a little harder and somehow finds even more space inside Marcille to bottom out in—

“Marcille…” she whimpers like she’s in pain, on the verge of tears, fingers tight between Marcille’s as they grip the edge of the rattling desk together. “You feel—so good, oh… You’re”—another moan buried just behind her ear—"so wet, so good…” 

It’s not like Marcille got the chance to be anything else right now, did she? Not when Falin fell upon her just as she was sorting through her documents, pressed against her back and already unfastening the clasps of her gown and slipping it off her shoulders. She was fully naked before she even got a playful good morning whispered into her ear—it’s a miracle she had the forethought to push her papers out of the way just before Falin had her wrapped around her finger in the most literal sense. 

Well. Fingers in the plural, really, since she always starts with two. Usually while pawing at Marcille’s tit with her other hand until her stupid knees give out and she ends up buckling over whatever surface is nearby—in this case, her desk, mercifully free of any uncapped inkwells at the moment. Now slathered with sweat that makes her tits slip and slide along the wooden varnish, of course, but otherwise non-disastrous. 

Hopefully her nightgown is catching most of the mess running down her thighs, or she’s going to have to make the most humiliating request to the castle staff about her carpets for the third time this month—

“Yes…!” Falin digs her heels in and fucks her even harder, taken with some kind of mindless momentum all of a sudden. “I love you,” she pants in that stupid—feathery, daisy-light tone that has no business being this sweet while she’s ravaging Marcille like this— “you’re perfect, you’re perfect—” 

Marcille’s going to die like this. This is how she’s going to go: Bleating like an animal with her cheek stuck to her desk with drool, eyes just permanently rolled back in her head, toes barely touching the floor as Falin keeps fucking her further onto the desk. She hasn’t said a single coherent word since her second orgasm however many minutes ago, just broken into an endless stream of guttural noises as her cunt slobbers and squelches around Falin’s cock almost as loudly as she’s wailing. 

“Marcille,” Falin keens, sounding like a bashful princess ravished to breathlessness—just something straight out of a high-minded erotica novel—all while hammering Marcille into the desk at a shallow, breakneck pace. “You feel—feel s–o good, you’re perfect, oh—oh, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, I love you, I love you—” 

For the love of—fuck. Marcille can distantly hear herself scream, can feel the desk digging into her as she flails, her grasp on sanity getting thinner and thinner with each word that tumbles out of Falin’s mouth and shoots straight through her nerves. She’s—good god, she’s not usually this talkative. It’s almost always Marcille begging and blabbering about how much she wants Falin’s cock, how good it feels, how she wants it harder and faster and more, screaming and crying Falin’s name over and over—

But now, in the absence of Marcille’s pathetic yapping—after she’s already fucked the words out of Marcille so thoroughly—Falin’s taken it upon herself to murmur a stream of honeyed nonsense into her ear, her frail and gentle voice breaking with desperation—and fuck, it’s not fair.

“Yes, yes, oh—” Falin sobs into her neck. “I love it—I love it when you sound like this, I love you—you’re so good, so good for me, my Marcille—” 

No, no, no, she can’t do that, she can’t do that—she can’t say that, in that voice, while her cock is so deep in Marcille there’s hardly room for anything else, battering all her nerve endings and rearranging her so that there’s nothing left but her, Falin, Falin—

“Ah!” Falin cries out, like she’s the one getting reamed against her stupid fucking desk so hard she can barely breathe— “Yes, please, please—please say my name again!” 

Well. She can beg all she fucking wants, but it’s not going to be pretty and she has no one to blame but herself—it’s her fault Marcille can hardly speak, it’s her fault her name is only coming in rough wails with both syllables separated with heaving, crying breaths. Marcille gives it her all, scrapes whatever intelligence she has left to speak, and sounds like a dying animal in a way that can’t possibly be anything but hideous to listen to—

And still, Falin sobs, as if in utter ecstasy as she fucks Marcille so hard the desk starts scraping along the floor in harsh jumps. 

“Yes, yes—ah—” Her voice, not so whispery gentle now but still so melodious and clear, sounding out from deep in her chest— “I—love—you—” she weeps, punctuated by the hard slams of the desk against the floor as she drops the rapid pace in favor of mercilessly hard thrusts— “Beautiful—perfect—mine!” 

Then she finally, finally comes—not that it stops her, not with how she thrusts with every spurt. Like she’s not just satisfied with letting it spill out, like she needs to fuck it into Marcille with all her strength, once, twice, then one last time, stuffing her cunt absolutely full with searing heat—

And Marcille doesn’t even realize she’s coming until she’s unceremoniously ejected out the other side of the high, that telltale swoop of vertigo rushing through her veins. The orgasm doesn't even have the grace to let her go limp with afterglow, of course, and she’s left there convulsing and twitching like a drowning fish. With her jaw pressed to the desk, she can actually hear her teeth chatter from how hard she’s shaking, Falin’s warm weight on her be damned. 

(One day. One day, she’ll stop embarrassing herself like this—one day she’ll finish like a normal person during sex, instead of going off like a cheap firework every half hour and wringing an orgasm out of herself as soon as she feels Falin finish inside her, whether or not she even had one left in her to begin with.) 

“M-Marcille,” Falin stammers, her voice breathless but now shy and girlish again as she slowly untangles their hands. “Are you—are you okay?” 

The gall. To ask her that, when she’s nothing but a sweaty carcass slung over her desk, still twitching erratically. To be so gentle as she straightens up and kisses the back of her neck, tenderly brushing her hair to the side as she pulls out ever so slowly—

And still. Not. Slowly. Enough—apparently! Not with the sparks that explode in Marcille’s eyes again, utterly unclear if this is another orgasm or just a particularly brutal aftershock! She just goes squeaking and shaking and sliding off the desk onto her knees, hands clapped over her cunt like they’re going to protect her from the lightning racing up and down her spine. She doesn’t even know where she landed, really, convulsing and closing her thighs around her hand as cum and slick drools into her palms, falling forward and— and smacking her head against the edge of her desk.

“Oh!” Feathered arms clasp around her before she can slide past the wood with her sweaty forehead and land on her face. “Careful—are you okay?” 

The gall. The audacity. The—something, or whatever, fuck, Marcille doesn’t even care anymore. Her head throbs with an oncoming bruise, she can’t feel her legs, she can feel her pussy way too much, and it’s a wonder she hasn’t fallen apart on the spot—

“Okay… let’s…” There’s some maneuvering going on, but hell if Marcille can actually tell what Falin’s doing. “Here, let’s take a bath—I’ll go draw some water.” 

Marcille whines, because no—she doesn’t know where she is, she just twists until her face finds feathers and buries herself there. She even manages to bring one cum-covered hand to grip at the quils, because this mess is Falin’s fault and if she doesn't like it then she can wash it off herself—but she’s not allowed to leave. 

A little chuckle under her breath—and it’s so fucking cute and girlish like she hasn’t just demolished a full grown woman to the brink of unconsciousness, but Marcille can’t even find it in herself to be mad. Falin can ask her whatever the hell she wants, do whatever the hell she wants, so long as she doesn’t let go. 

“I’m bringing you with me, I promise,” Falin whispers so tenderly, pressing a kiss to Marcille’s head. There’s arms tightening around her back and under her knees, and she feels herself being lifted. “I wouldn’t leave you like that…” 

Better not, Marcille grumbles to herself. Not sure if it made it past her mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Falin’s going to take responsibility for turning her morning into—into this, even if it means having to draw some bathwater with an elf clinging to her the entire time. She’s going to be the one to wash her off, bring her their missed breakfast, and tell everyone why she wasn’t there at the morning meeting—

Maybe not that last part. 

“I’m sorry,” she hears, in that soft and whispery tone she’s loved for so many years. That voice that didn’t change, even with everything that happened—everything that Marcille did to her, and it’s—

It would be so, incredibly stupid if she started crying out of nowhere. 

“Liar,” she whines, digging the indignant annoyance back up to pout like a spoiled brat. “You liked… every second…” 

Another giggle that so infuriatingly lovely. “I did.” The sound of a squeaky valve turning, then rushing water that slaps against stone. “Did you?” 

Marcille just grumbles again and clings even tighter. Falin just laughs a little louder and strokes her hair, too kind to demand an answer in so many words—or, perhaps, impishly content to let Marcille incriminate herself with her silence, as she so often does.

[yuujiheart]

GUYS HEAR ME OUT!!!!!!!

WHAT IF YUUJI CURSED SUKUNA TO LIVE/NOT BE ALONE...

We can see here how yuji is trying very hard to convince sukuna to accept the deal. He first forced / threatened sukuna into accepting the deal. Which is different from what he did for Gumi, he allowed Gumi to decide for himself and didn't coerce him at all..

This is similar to what happened to yuta and rika. Yuta absolutely refused to let rika die here. He did it unintentionally since you know he was just a child..

Yuji is trying to do for sukuna what his grandpa did for him. I mean sukuna had no one to save him so Yuji wanted to be that person for him. And in my opinion sukuna was more scared of living than dying in that particular moment ig..

[tiktowafel]

see tsuburaba, her design perfectly conveys her personality and role in the story but you're too uncultured to get it

(aka i think manga having a crush on kenranzaki is a delightful little piece of canon information. thanks ultra analysis)

[youkaigakkou-tl]

New key visual!! 🎉🎉

Premiering on OCTOBER 8TH!! 🎉🎉

For 2 consecutive cours!! (24 eps)

🎉🎉

Full voice cast has also been revealed:

Abe Haruaki: Ryouta Oosaka

Sano Mikoto: Ryouta Suzuki

Maizuka Mamekichi: Reo Tanie

Hijita Koutarou: Taito Ban

Zashiki Beniko: Akari Kitou

Nyuudou Rensuke: Akira Takano

Utagawa Kuniko: Hana Ayasaka

Akisame Tamao: Yuki Sakakihara

Yanagida: Tomokazu Sugita

Mujina Yakumo: Takao Mitsutomi

Fuji Touya: Saku Hyuga

Renjou Yuri: Nanako Mori

Miki Rintarou: Shun Horie

Hatanaka Izuna: Ryouta Iwasaki

Principal: Jun Fukuyama

Takahashi Akira: Shouta Aoi

Yamazaki Makoto: Tomoaki Maeno

Marshmallow: Chitose Morinaga

Little man: Tetsuya Yanagihara

[fever-dreamer97]

Bakugo: Ready to test out the airbags on the car, nerd?!

Izuku, sitting in the drivers seat: C-Can’t we use a real crash test dummy?!

Bakugo: No budget, ready, go! *pushes button*

Izuku, crashes straight into the wall without any cushion: AH!

Bakugo:…So airbags are a little slow.

Izuku, crawls his way out of the car and falls to the ground as the airbags finally go off: Ughhh…

Bakugo: But that’s what these tests are for! Reset nerd!

Izuku, lays on the ground: F**k you, Kacchan.

[dreaming-hibi]

WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT TSUNA HAD ORANGE/GOLDEN EYES EVEN AS HIS NORMAL SELF IN THE MANGA OR WAS I SUPPOSED TO FIND THAT OUT WHILE LAUGHING AT TVTROPES?

Those eyes are clearly NOT BROWN, whatever color they are IT IS NOT BROWN!!!!