#i nearly cried honestly

[koszmarnybudyn]

Here is the slut.

[tiny-planet-13]

okay can we just talk about Jean being concerned about Cody's welfare for a second because my heart genuinely felt like a star going supernova in that moment like that was such a painful thing to read because he cares so so so much without even trying but no-one was ever there for him like that (I'm not counting Zane because fuck him I don't care) but I just ahhh jean you're gonna be the death of me that little scene meant so much

[puppetmaster13u]

My take on @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au, specifically the designs lol. Technically a first rendition and might change (and of course it's not all of them seeing as there'd be others like Nightwing or Red Hood lol)

[every-grelle-sutcliff]

[pers3phone399]

sorry babe can't talk rn i'm letting another fanfic completely overtake all of my waking thoughts

(it's "Methyl Nitrate Pineapples" and its sequel "Cherry Bomb Alchemy" by @fablecore (razbliuto on ao3) if you like One Piece OC stories and one (1) emo Surgeon of Death you should go read it too)

[flower-dagger-gay]

Me throughout the entirety of s2e8:

[abysswalkersknight]

Found this one in my drafts so added it into my list.

Fair warning this really made me sad and I'm the damn author. But this was inspired by the death of the hydro archon in genshin impact and some amazing theories I saw about the knight of dawn. So either way enjoy and tell me what you think!

......................

The castle was quiet.

Everyone had been evacuated due to the coming battle. 

Everyone except a few loyal servants and the royal couple.

The knight of dawn sits upon the steps before the empty throne, it has been empty for some time, neglected by the dragon princess regrettably slain by his own two hands. In his arms lay a sleeping newborn babe just barely a few days old, with silken golden hair like his own and boisterous lungs to match his mother’s. His son rests peacefully, oblivious to the heavy stillness that plagues this dark castle, absent of life and light as the torches had been left cold, the knight draws a soft finger across his son’s cheek.

I wonder how he’ll look in ten years. His beloved, Leia jokingly believed that their baby shall grow to be the spitting image of his father, he dearly hoped not; call him vain but he was well aware of his fine features. And the troubles that came with it. The infatuation of others are not something he’d wish upon anyone.   

It was nice out here, in the blissful silence. For once the knight was free from all worries and troubles, free from all the heavy expectations, free from the thought of what’s to come. Here, it was just him and his child.

The calm before the storm. His mind supplies unhelpfully, the knight’s content smile falls and he sighs through his nose. Yes, it all floods back to him why exactly the castle is as it is, their enemy comes at the ready to rid them off the map, and he’s to hold them off as best he can so that everyone else can run to safety. Thus that thankfully includes his wife and son.

Personally he was worried that Henrik would deny them sanctuary, with the birth of the knight’s son there was a new heir that could challenge him for the throne, and the knight  knew full well how greedy for power Henrik was, knew that he now saw the knight as a broken tool the day he married his beloved.

He knew that this night would also be his last, the odds were too high in their enemy's favour and he was too weak from the endless battles prior, perhaps this was simply another reason why Henrik thought to have him lead the charge, what better way to be rid of a brittle blade than to use it up until it shatters to smithereens?

All he could do was fight long enough so that his family was safe, and by the seven he will fight till his sword can no longer stay in his grasp. Fighting’s all you're good for anyways.

He’s heard what the three great fairies plan to do to keep his son safe, and he is thankful for their help, but a selfish part of him only wishes for another way, to keep his son from a long, unbearably lonely slumber. He’s only agreed for the promise of his boy living a happy, peaceful life with someone who will truly love the child as he surely does, one devoid of the pain and sorrows of war. 

A world in a time of peace, what a pleasant thought. He’d only wish that he’d get to experience it with his family, but if his son gets to live through such a life then he shall be content with that. I wonder what you’ll do when you're older, will he carry a sword like his father? Or perhaps have a more quiet hobby? Will he make any friends? Someone who he can compete with, to help each other reach new heights? What will his favourite food be? Will he have an affinity for animals as well? The knight wasn’t sure about blessings being inherited but he'd love to see what becomes of it. He lifts his child up to his cheek, one of the only places deprived of glistening cold silver, breathing in the milky scent that all infants had, and felt his heart twist painfully as eyes beautiful as the rising dawn slowly blink up at him.

He’d love to see who this tiny little babe becomes, even if only for a moment…

Oh! Birds and other wildlife seem to have flocked down to one of the windows, as silent as possible as to not startle the infant, just watching them. The knight knew why they were there, they were there to say farewell, among them were the families of various animal friends he’s made in the past, of the ones who helped care for him when he was young. He stands up with his baby in his arms and goes to greet his old friends, the smallest of the birds gather round the babe’s blanket while a deer sniffed at his golden hair. Sweet giggles fill the room and as the knight smiles fondly at the scene he almost fails to notice a strange new arrival.

Time seemed to slow, for squeaking pleasantly to the child from above on the window sill, was a tiny bat. It was so peculiar, normally they preferred to keep to themselves. Usually the knight was not one who typically believed in signs or omens, but something about this bat stirred something in his chest, and he suddenly recalled that day when he was thrown into the waterways, of that fae who held the princess’s egg with such tenderness, the bat is now nuzzling his babe with a similar softness and he too reaches out a finger to stroke it’s fur, which it didn’t take too kindly to, snapping at his hand with such an insulted look upon its face that the knight nearly laughed, somehow the look reminded him of the tales told of the general of the right, its with this thought that he wonders if the general had made it to safety that day. If my guess is right he may as well have, he thought once the bat finally let him scritch under its chin, he knew deep in his heart that if it was to be fated then he could think of no one better to take care of his child despite their being enemies. 

I wonder what name he’ll give you.

Beyond the horizon the knight could faintly see the first rays of dawn stretching across the pinkening sky. 

Ah, it appears our time together is coming to a close. 

While he knew what was to come, faced with death he still found himself a little afraid. Was this what the Princess felt when she had to leave her egg? He thinks feeling his breath stutter and fingers curl tighter around his bundle.

He presses one final gentle kiss to the babe’s forehead. I apologise for leaving you like this my son, he tucks his treasured ring around the boy’s neck, please forgive your fool of a father.

The hour of his execution is almost here.

In a way this felt deserving, it was just like that day, leaving slashed bodies in his wake, the glare of dawn beating down upon rivers of red and iron. Only this time he knew full well what he was fighting for.

I pray that he won’t become what I was.

His strength wanes, his helmet laid cracked and caved in on the floor like scrap metal, leaving his determination visible to all.

My dearest little one.

Should you ever raise a sword like I.

The morning sun gazes down upon the knight, upon the gleaming sword painted a lustrous crimson in his chest, his failing vision fixed on the beautiful briar crawling along the castle, he gives one last smile for his sleeping son.

I pray that you will carry it with pride and for a life you truly strive for.

[scriv3lloirl]

Watchin Little Shop right now, n yer' tellin me that Seymour Krelborn nev'r thought bout feedin Twoey some stray cats or sum t' hold 'er off??

Anyway, I keep hootin n hollerin at m' phone cus Krelborn keeps pissin me off.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 2023 Birthday R&S

⚡ Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a R&S which hasn't released in EN yet!⚡

[Released Date: 16 June 2023]

[This content was translated with the help of Google translate and by my lovely friend XD]

✧[Chapter 1]✧

Shaw walked unhurriedly on the path on one side, and the earphone cable on his chest also dangled. It wasn't until a fork in the road appeared that he was finally willing to lift his eyelids and look left and right.

It was still the bat’s road on the left, two or three vehicles were parked there.

To the right, there was a gentle slope upward, and between the layers of trees, you can see a tombstone standing there, as well as two or three places where white smoke drifts out due to worship.

Since the burial of the old man, this is the second time he came here. Hardly a year has passed by but there were a lot more tombstones than before, and he couldn't even find where he was.

But Shaw wasn't in a hurry, he put his hands in his pockets, and walked east without hesitation. No matter how much this place changes, going to somewhere with the best Feng Shui never goes wrong.

[T/N]: Feng Shui is an ancient Chinese art of arranging buildings, objects, and space in an environment to achieve harmony and balance in a way that will bring peace and prosperity. Or in simple having luck with the environment!

So it didn't take long for Shaw to stand in front of the old man's tombstone without any problems. After staring at the photo that’s mosaicked in the middle, he reached out and pulled out the earphones.

“Hey, old man.”

“I can't believe I chose this photo, you're the one with the biggest smile.”

Shaw raised his hand to brush off the dead leaves from the tombstone, but just with few strokes, his hands were covered with a layer of black dust.

“.........”

After a few moments of silence, he squeezed his hand around his white cuff and wiped the dust off the tombstone bit by bit.

“Old man, you are too far from the city center. So don't blame me for not frequently visting, just swear some words upon the sky.”

As Shaw spoke, he suddenly narrowed his eyes and sneezed several times in succession.

“... Mine was pretty fast.”

“Then you relax yourself first, I haven’t finished reporting. When I’m finished reporting, you can criticise me all you want.”

At this time, the right cuff had become black from dust, so Shaw pinched his left cuff, and continued to wipe the dust.

“Originally, I wanted to wait until Ching Ming festival to gave you a grave sweep, although i don’t visit so often, certain rules still has to be followed”

[T/N]: 清明節 Ching Ming or Qingming festival means the Remembrance of Ancestors Day or Grave-Sweeping Day takes place on the 15th day after the Spring Equinox. 

“But I’ll be busy with some school stuff at that time, so I came early,”

“As for the antiques...everything is fine, except that your business has been reduced a lot without you.”

“You also know that I don't like making trouble, so I'll try my best not to lose money for you. Oh, and there's one more thing— —

“I accidentally broke a cup of yours some time ago. Fortunately, it was only from the Qing Dynasty. In addition, it was repaired in time, so the loss is not big. I just feel sorry for your old age, so I will pay you more.”

Shaw lifted the plastic bag that he brought all the way here and shook it in front of the tombstone. After shaking it, he took out a still warm roast chicken, three or two fruits and a handful of original melon seeds from it.

Then, he glanced at the bottle of sake left in the bag, and raised the corners of his lips slightly.

“Remember it all, all of them are your favorites.”

After pouring the sake into a small glass, he finally straightened up and fell into complete silence, and without his voice, the place was even quieter, with only a string of heavy metal sounds slipping out of the headphones which were half-dangling out of his pocket.

“.......”

“It's all me talking, so it's boring.”

When Shaw raised his foot and was about to leave, he suddenly thought of something and took out a few copper coins from his pocket.

“Old man, you say I can do divination, can you tell me what you want to say to me through divination?”

Jingle—

The coins were thrown up and scattered on the ground, Shaw bent down and looked at them, and laughed.

“It's amazing, it seems to be there.”

He said, glanced at the sake cup that was only 70% full, and then picked up the sake bottle to fill it.

“Okay, I'll fill you up, but don't be too greedy. I'm really leaving this time, and I'll come see you when I have time.”

After Shaw finished speaking, he left without looking back. Only the small sake bottle was left, and the sake made silent waves with the wind.

On the way back, the sky was gloomy, and Shaw was still walking slowly when, a lingering smoke of plant ash floated behind him, and an old lady who seemed to have just finished sweeping the grave hurriedly rushed ahead of him.

“Young man, hurry up, it's going to rain heavily.”

Shaw took a look at the sky, and then kicked a stone on the side of the road.

"What a stupid rain."

✧[Chapter 2]✧

After returning to the antique shop, the dust on the cuffs had condensed into a ball. 

Shaw didn't take off his coat, he directly took out a dust pan and broom from a corner of the backyard. Originally, he hadn't planned to clean it today, but the layers of dirt accumulated during the tomb sweeping made him realize that it hadn't been cleaned for a long time.

But when Shaw stood in front of the secret room with the broom, he never pressed the switch.

Since the old man left, he almost never went in there again. Even if he wanted to get some necessary things, he would just quickly go in and come out immediately, without any extra stops.

He couldn't say why he didn't want to go there, but he didn't want to "get to the bottom of it". He always felt that once he did so, a lot of troublesome emotions would come up.

So at last he turned and left, and went back to the door.

“Forget it, let's talk about it another day. You can't finish so many things in half a day.”

He began to sweep and drag the chair, and the harsh sound made from time to time made the parrot in the cage jump up and down as if startled.

Shaw stopped moving again and pinned the broom to the ground, “What, are you going to give your cage a big cleaning too?”

Seeing that the parrot continued to flutter its wings, he silently picked up the water basin on the side and walked towards the door.

“Okay, your voice is really precious, I've been raising you for four or five years, and I haven't seen you say a few words.”

After speaking, he lifted the water basin and poured towards outside, "Hey, what a coincidence, I bet you brat purpousefully poured it towards me!"

The old man just stepped into the antique stop and almost got splashed by water, his feet were shivering on the dry floor like an electric shock.

Seeing this, Shaw just shrugged his shoulders, picked up the mop and started mopping the floor, “You also said it's a coincidence, don't touch the porcelain”

“……Come on, I'm too old to argue with a kid like you.”

Old Yan put his hands behind his back and began to look at the "renewed" antique shop, with a puffing sound coming from his mouth.

“I was just next door when I heard your bells ringing, so you were giving it a cleaning .”

“Could it be that you have been enlightened by the Buddha's light, and you are finally willing to take care of this antique shop for your master and inherit the mantle?”

“........”

“Out of the way.”

Seeing that the broom almost reached his front foot, Old Yan immediately step back, Shaw slightly opened his mouth again. “Move to the left, there’s a treasure on the right.”

Old Yan subconsciously put his foot on brakes, and when he looked back, his face turned pale.

“This, the authentic work of Huang Tingjian, you put it here?”

“It's been raining for a while, and it's hard to come across a dry, cloudy day, so I took it out to dry.”

Old Yan's body went rigid, as if he hadn't recovered from the fright just now, “Anyway, put it in a safe place, I was almost knocked down by it just now!”

Shaw remained expressionless, silently putting down the mop in his hand.

“Old Yan. When it was first discovered, it didn't know that it would last for a hundred years or that it would be trapped in a wooden box by future generations.

“It's not too much to let it out once in a while to feel the breeze, right?”

Old Yan was stunned for a moment, his eyes even showed a few moments of longing, and then turned away.

“...... Why do you always come and then disappear?”

Old Yan didn't turn around, the afterglow quietly fell on his back.

“I won't be coming back today.”

…. It’s almost an year, how come today thinking about the scenery of my master enjoying chatting with these precious antiques comes to mind.

And then, there was only a sigh left at the corner.

The antique store was empty again, and the parrot was quiet.

Shaw didn't clean up any more, just leaned casually to one side, looked at the calligraphy and painting quietly for a long time, and then raised the corners of his lips.

“Surely you miss him too?”

“It's so awkward.”

Shaw shrugged, pretending to be indifferent, and when he was about to continue mopping the floor, a black shadow broke into the corner of his eye and stood at the door of the store.

He turned his head and saw the black letter 5 with a slightly raised tail engraved on the man's earphone.

✧[Chapter 3]✧

At dawn, Shaw walked quickly in the forest, dragging his bleeding left leg.

“This time the "extra money" was harder to earn than imagined, but fortunately the things have been successfully obtained, and the rest is to extort more "loss fees" from BS.”

As he was thinking, his vision suddenly blurred, causing him to run and hold onto a tree trunk and look down at the wound.

Even wearing black pants, you can still see that the place cut by the blade is bloody, surrounded by a network of broken fabric on the top, oozing black and blue blood.

“.......”

It seems that the tip of the knife seems to be poisoned.

He frowned and quickened his pace, walking towards the exit not far away. But the weird thing was, it’s clearly located in front by less than a metre, but he’s like stuck in cycles, spinning around in the same spot.

It wasn't until the third attempt that Shaw finally stopped beside the tree trunk he had carved a mark on.

“Tsk, do you really think these tricks can work on me?” Shaw gritted his teeth and complained, then simply closed his eyes.

How treacherous is the illusion?

And there was no escape from the four-element, eight-diagram array.

The next second, the off by hard memorised Eight Front Strategy taught by that old man, spread out from a circle supported by two legs in his heart. But as soon as he stepped on the “kun word”, a dazzling light wrapped him up. 

He opened his eyes slightly, and found that the source of the light was actually coming from the dragonfly eye worn on his chest.

Shaw took off the chain in surprise and twisted it, but before he could continue looking, that dazzling light burst out again, completely engulfing his sight.

When he opened his eyes again, it was completely black.

“.......”

Shaw subconsciously stretched out his hand, but before his arm was straightened, his palm first met a rough and hard touch, like a pitted stone wall.

Just now it was an open forest, how did it become like this in the blink of an eye? He frowned and took out his phone to turn on the flashlight mode, the moment it illuminated, the surrounding environment was completely out of his expectation.

He was in a closed and narrow "passage", the rocks above his head could be touched by his feet, and the air was thin, with a cold, damp stench.

It was as if this place had never seen the light of the day.

“What's going on?”

Shaw endured the pain and walked a few steps, until he encountered a fork in the road, he turned his head sideways and looked in the two places.

Under the sweeping light of the flashlight, he saw some pottery and ironware on the ground, and a set of chime clocks were displayed in the distance, arranged in order from small to large at the bottom of the wall.

At this moment he felt something was wrong. After all, he grew up on West Moon Street, and he was surrounded by the old man every day. Even if he hasn't experienced it himself, he can probably tell that this was the place where the ancients lived in the legend.

“........”

How come when this thing lights up, he comes here?

He stared at the Dragonfly's Eye in his hand for a while, puzzled. But he didn't see anything unusual. His intuition told him that there must be a hidden secret. That's why the old man never explained it, but only entrusted him to take good care of it….

Just as he was thinking, a benevolent voice came from the storage room, Shaw immediately came back to his senses, and walked with light footsteps. And when he walked to the entrance of the side room, he saw an old-fashioned flashlight lying on the ground, looking along the bright light, a young man in a crumpled Chinese tunic, whose leg was firmly pressed by a broken stone slab.

Shaw didn't move for a while, just watched this strange young man scrambling back and forth on the ground, sweating profusely and grinning.

When he finally pulled his foot out of the gap, he stood up half-heartedly, looked up and saw Shaw standing at the door, and almost fell to the ground again in fright.

“You, who are you?”

✧[Chapter 4]✧

Before the words fell, Shaw's flashlight was directed on the young man's face.

“You don't care who I am. You've got a lot of nerve, what kind of society is this, and you still dare to put yourself in danger?”

While the young man was blinded by the light, Shaw frowned.

He always thought this square-faced man looked a bit familiar.

But in the next second, the young man blocked the dazzling light with his hand. Seeing that he didn't reply for a long time, Shaw moved the flashlight to his hand again, and shook it lightly.

“Don't play dumb, this jade bead is the treasure you want to take away, right?”

“How about this, give you a chance to redeem your sins, you give it to me, and I'll handed it in for you.”

The young man immediately put the round white jade beads behind his back, his face full of indignation.

“You, what do you think of me? I was going to hand it over to the museum. This is a stone bone white jade, which belongs to our cultural product of the Western Han Dynasty. It is impossible to hand it over to someone with unknown origin like you!”

"You don't look like a good person with that hair color of yours, maybe you are with that group of foreign thieves!"

Shaw was listening and ran a hand over his blue purplish hair.

“Okay, not just a reckless man, but also quite knowledgeable, but you are wrong about one thing, this is not the Western Han Dynasty, but also the Ming Dynasty.”

As Shaw said, he shone the flashlight on the heavy wooden box behind the young man.

“This is lime sand made by mixing lime, glutinous rice, and sand. No one would do this before the Ming Dynasty.”

The young man froze for a moment, leaned over to take a look, and when he turned his head, the vigilance in his eyes was replaced with curiosity.

“....Where did you learn this from?”

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you, how about it? Want to give it to me?"

Seeing Shaw taking a step forward threateningly, although the young man was afraid, he still firmly guarded the jade bead in his hand, as if he would rather smash the jade than give it up 

“I'm not going to hand it over to you no matter what you say.”

“It has been sealed for centuries, and I will not allow its future fate to remain in the hands of wealthy merchants.”

“It should be seen by the world, it is history, it is culture!”

“Not synonymous with money!”

The young man's cheeks were red, and his voice became more and more subdued, as a resy Shaw couldn't hold back his laughter.

“I finally remembered who you look like, your accent, tone of voice, and a face that couldn't be more square .......”

“Just like the old man.”

Shaw scannedthe young man up and down while speaking, “It's okay for you to play retro style, no problem, but it does’nt suit that face of yours, too old looking, I advise you to put that big head down......”

Before he could finish the sentence, a dazzling ray of light flashed on his chest again.

It's the dragonfly eye.

“This is the Warring States glazed dragonfly eye, why do you have it?! I clearly —”

Shaw couldn't hear anything, the shining white light completely enveloping him.

✧[Chapter 5]✧

In the following week, Shaw searched all over the antique shop, but he couldn't find any information about the Dragonfly Eye.

After a long silence, he finally raised his hand and pressed the switch on the back of the antique shelf, and entered the secret room. With the kerosene lamp in his hand, he stared in silence at everything before him - an ancient book lined up on a wooden table at the end, a magnifying glass at the foot of the page, and a sperm tilted against the door.

There are "traces" left by the old man from the last time everywhere.

That's why he doesn't like to come to this place.

He didn't know whether to tidy up the messy secret room or keep it as it was.

He always feels that once these are returned to their original places, time will take advantage of them and erase all the traces left on them. So when Shaw searched, he deliberately avoided touching these things.

The kerosene lamps began to fade but he still found nothing. The only accidental discovery was a dusty wooden box dragged out from the bottom shelf of the ancient shelf-

It contains a red hardcover photo album, and some fragmentary objects. 

Shaw didn't think twice and opened the first page. 

What caught his eyes were four black and white group photos, each photo has seven or eight young people in Chinese tunic suits smiling shyly.

In the next second, Shaw's fingertips holding the album tightened a little bit.The person standing on the far right of the photo was a young man with curly hair and a square face.

“.........”

He subconsciously held his breath.

Obviously the guess was right, but he was still stunned, he continued to flip the pages in a daze.

There weren't many photos of this man, but you can tell that he has slowly changed over time - he has become a little fatter, his face has more wrinkles, and his hair has turned gray. In the end, it became the most familiar appearance to him.

“……..”

When everything was irrefutable, Shaw couldn't help but smile, only the undetectable regret remained in his eyes.

“....Old man, you are very interesting. Hiding so many secrets from me...But it's okay, just leave it as a mystery for me to solve by myself.”

“Sooner or later, I will know whether that person was my hallucination, or I really met you.”

When he put the photo album back, he found an old notebook underneath.

“There are a lot of things.”

He flipped through a few pages, which contained the old man's notes on studying antiquities when he was young, and some essays—

“History is not as old as you imagined, as long as you see it, touch it ...... Naturally, you’ll become a part of history.”

[T/N]: Please take note of this line and don’t forget it, cuz it holds a special meaning behind it and play a big role in his bday date which will also be explained later ;) 

Seeing this, Shaw inadvertently looked at the ancient books, calligraphy and paintings in front of him. For some reason, these things that he has been accustomed to since he was a child, seem to have undergone different changes at this moment.

It seems that through these, we can see the past and see the freshness of the past.

Thinking of this, he raised his hand and placed it on one of the ancient books.

Has he become a part of history? To be honest, he has doubts, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Because the only person he can ask has become “history”.

✧[Chapter 6]✧

The time has come for the summer solstice, and the cicadas are chirping even more.

He patted the dust on his hands before picking up his phone and glancing at it - [Speedy Skateboard Shop] Dear member, happy birthday! Coupons have been added to your account, welcome to shop! Remember to subscribe back.

Shaw didn't even think about going back, and walked straight into the shop. It's been more than a year and a half now, and it's time to come to the store to make an account. Even if he doesn't bother to take care of the business, some basic things still have to be done.

But when he took out the calculator from the drawer, he found that there were stickers on the bottom of a business card.

He tore it off casually, and found that it was not only crumpled, but also had many cake patterns printed on it, one of which was the peach cake.

When Shaw saw this, he couldn't help laughing.

“Old man, aren't you hinting at something again?”

However, the only answer to him was a beep.

But Shaw didn't mind, and laughed even more.

“Okay, I've been eating it for so many years, and I would feel uncomfortable if I suddenly stopped this year.” He picked up the landline beside him and dialed the number from the business card to see if he could buy it.

After a while, the phone was connected by an aunt with a northern accent, ”Master Hua, why did you call this year? Don't you usually order it a few days ago? But it's okay, the birthday cake has been reserved for you.”

“What do you say, when will you come to pick it up? I'm off work soon.”

Shaw held the phone tightly, “Now”

She seemed to realize that it wasn't Master Hua's voice, and the other party was taken aback for a moment, “Oh, it's not Master Hua? Then will you help him get the cake from here? Or would he be getting it  himself?”

“........”

"He's not coming, I'll get it myself."

The time Shaw finished taking the cake and returned to the antique shop, it was already dark…

Without saying anything, he cut a piece of longevity peach cake and put it on a plate, and ate it quietly. But yes, what can change dramatically in the past year?

Shaw paused for a moment while eating the cake, and there was a glimmer of darkness in his eyes.

He couldn't say that, except for this cake, there were quite a lot of changes.

“Stinky boy! Stinky boy!”

At this moment, it was as if a stone had hit the calm lake. Shaw straightened up suddenly, and looked at the parrot who had finally opened its mouth. It was obviously still dark on the street, but time seemed to be turning backwards, and the bustling noises of the daytime could be heard next to his ears— —

“Old man, can you stop nagging me? This chicken is learning to talk, I don't want another bird to scold me.”

“Brat, if you were less of a troublemaker, could I say that?”

“...stinky old man,”

“Well, you brat!”

When this past incident came to Shaw's mind, he couldn't help laughing, not even noticing the cream on the corner of his mouth.

He continued to fork a piece of yellow peach and put it in his mouth,

“Old man, what did I say? You can't say everything out loud.”

“The bird always learn the bad, not the good.”

The night was quiet again, and the parrot also lowered its head and combed its feathers,

Shaw looked at the empty antique shop, picked up a candle and stuck it in the cake.

After lighting, the warm light of the candle reflected on Shaw's face, the youthful nostalgia and resignation were reflecting out.

“......Old man.”

“All these years, I haven't been very filial to you, I happened to turn 18 this year, so let's set an example.”

“To be your good disciple for once.”

“Your antique store, the treasures you receive with love, the "history" you cherish”

“I'll take care of it for you.”

—

[coconut530]

🏳️‍🌈Pride, 2023🏳️‍🌈

[damnation-if]

on today's episode of Hashing Out Concepts Theatre, i spent a while today while waiting for my new fridge/freezer to be installed after my previous one died and i lost all my food hashing out a bunch of concepts for another game idea i have. (rest assured i'm not actually working on it as a game yet i just like to bash out a framework for things every now and then to make my brain do happy chemicals lmao)

putting all of this stuff under a cut since it's a bunch of images and also in case people aren't interested XD

i am regrettably a huge fan of comic books (mostly DC) and i've seen a couple of comic book inspired IFs popping up lately, though when it comes to my own interest, i'm definitely more into a straight interpretation of a comic book universe than a more. the boys-style universe - i'm into the camp lol, not so much the grim and gritty stuff. (though that's just my own personal preference)

anyway the idea behind That's Just Super is something that i really like about certain comics - giving the villains more of a purpose and rounded existence than just existing to be in somebody's rogue's gallery. the joker's angry defence of the batfamily from various other DC evil forces, lex luthor's furious resistance against brainiac alongside superman because it's His planet, damn it, DOOM throwing in with the heroes in every second marvel event comic... i really like stories where villains and evil characters don't always make the Most Evil choice just Because, but have clear and explainable motivations that sometimes bring them into what we'd consider a 'good' alignment because unlike in d&d, there's no real such thing as a concrete moral alignment.

(this is my banner design for it)

the basic idea is that an inexplicable cosmic event removes all of the superheroes from the planet, leaving it vulnerable to attack by evil mindflayer style aliens - unless the supervillains who remain are able to band together despite their more unpredictable, less cooperative natures and save the planet in the heroes' absence. after all... if aliens take over the earth, the villains can't take it over themselves.

here's my fun little UI design idea lmao...

the other major thing about That's Just Super that i've been hashing out is the pc. the basic idea is that you pick your villain identity from a list but you get to customise their like. birth name and secret identity, while the villain identity comes with its own name, costume, and set history (including occasionally past romantic encounters). i like playing around with the way that IF works with the idea of mcs and customisable mcs so i just thought it'd be a fun twist... it also allows me to create nice drama by having set occurrences in the past lol.

so i did some profiles for the nine villain options - three each of the DC triad of tech/metahuman/magic origin. they're all based on a specific kind of villain archetype, and i really tried to limit myself to ones where i could definitely pin down more than one specific influence so it didn't end up like me just making too many analogues haha... even if some of the influences are probably pretty obvious.

weirdly i haven't even Thought about ROs yet since i've been so focussed on the pc... maybe i'll play around with the partially set background idea even more and only have 1 possible RO for each villain choice or something. maybe a couple that you can romance as anybody... not sure. (talionis could definitely have a messy broken romance with his superhero for example)

apologies that readability isn't great but these are mostly just made for me lmao

[introspectivememories]

literally can't stop thinking about mafia!bernard and police informant!tim

it got too long for the tags

bear's in the mafia for whatever reason

and tim is part of a police team called idfk the bats

anyway bear's mafia is getting too big and they need sm1 on the inside. enter tim.

tim is a police legacy. his dad was a policeman and so was his father's father and on it goes

and he might've made it onto captain wayne's team but he's desperate to prove to the force that he's not a fuckin nepo baby

so he takes the job. enter bernard who only meets tim after he's been on the mission for a year now.

bear quickly takes a liking to this new recruit who's efficient and smart and has the tiniest waist he's ever seen.

and tim goes along with this liking cause hey information from the top will be more valuable right?

and they fall into this fuckbuddies relationship that quickly becomes way more. because like fuck bear looks at tim like he's worth smth

like he's more than what his parents have set out for him. like he's somebody. like he loves tim for tim. and not for what tim can do for him.

and fuck he loves bear and his smiles. the way his eyes crinkle and his gums show. he loves the way bear looks with a gun in his hands and he knows that's fucked up but the first time he saw bear with a gun in his hands and blood splattered across his face he had to actively stop himself from jumping bear in front of the mafia. and no matter how rough bear is when he's on the field he always caresses tim's cheeks with a softness tim didn't know was possible

and fuck his dick is massive and it's really not helping tim's feelings. and he knows he's compromised and fuck cpt. wayne probs knows too

but shit bear holds him like he's precious. bear looks at him like he loves him. bear twines their bodies together like he'll die if they part

bear whispers sweet nothings into his ears as they fall asleep and it'll break him when he has to give bear up but he's always been selfish

he'll keep this for as long as he can. (please lord let him have this.)

and on bear's end he really only becomes interested in this new recruit when he watches the boy deliver 10 backhanded compliments in a row

and nobody pick up on it. it takes 3 months before bear figures out that tim's a spy and still he keeps seeing him

bc it doesn't matter that tim'll be his downfall. it doesnt matter that tim doesnt really love him or care about him. that it's only a mission for tim bc tim is the best thing bear's life.

he is the sun to bear's moon. the first word on his lips when he wakes up and the last when he goes to sleep.

and he loves every version of tim -- when he's caustic and biting, when he's blissed out in bed covered in the marks bernard left, when he's laughing, when he's crying

every version on tim is a version he likes. and one of these days, his pretty bird is going to have to leave their nest but at least bear can hold tim until then

at least bear can press promises into his thighs. at least he can whisper his devotion into the crook of tim's neck. at least he can leave marks on tim -- lovebites on his neck, handprints on his thighs and hips -- a tapestry that says "i was here. and i loved him. i love him and i am here."

but until that day comes, bear will work on quitting smoking and turning his favorite safehouse into a home for them.

(please lord, just let him have this. just let him have tim.)

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

[feytouched]

nervous bc i've lost so much fkn weight and i keep losing more faster & faster. food doesn't seem to absorb it just hurts my guts. my doctors are trying to figure it out but it takes time and i've already lost 2kg in a single month (11 kg since i was diagnosed at the start of the year)

[vestaclinicpod]

BREAKING NEWS: The highly trained professionals at Vesta HQ had their first recording session today and cannot WAIT for you to meet the newest staff member . . . Dr Bentos 😍

[my5hiningstars]

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