#just in case haha

[wanderingibon]

the fact that he's the group's cook (yelling)

something something to be kind despite it all, to be able to share a warm meal despite it all... something something i want us all to eat well

[keferon]

Hiii it's me again >:)

(I'm the one who sent the ask about the more synchronous Texaid being the equivalent of DOOM music on the battlefield. I wanted to delve more into this concept, so here we are)

Anyway, I've been in the process of writing a piece about them, and I wanted to share what I had so far. Enjoy 👻

Kinda sorta Ambulon POV? idk

♤

Felix— First Aid— smiled a lot more often now.

It would normally be a good thing! Aid always had a dour look on his face. Considering how he constantly cleaned out the gore from Vortex, it was understandable. But… now First Aid was the pilot, and Ambulon had heard nothing but horror stories about how his fellow medic was on the battlefield. Just thinking about it had Amublon nearly quaking in his rubber boots.

Entire armadas of these aliens had been found vivisected on the battlefield, torn into so many little perfectly cut pieces that someone could throw it back together like a sick joke of a taxidermied animal.

He had read the mission report (don't ask how) on how one time Aid got deployed, but their backup got held up by an ambush. Two entire groups of the invading aliens when only one had been reported.

Traditionally, a death sentence for any pilot. Except for First Aid and his demon-mech, apparently.

♡

This is it for now. There will be more, and it WILL be filled with gore. I uh.. I hope this is good food for now :)

Might as well tag off with something:

-🪱

Note: I'm probably gonna post the full thing on my main, so I will probably not be anonymous for long... who knows? I gotta write the rest and get it beta read first lol

Oh I would LOVE to see them from Ambulon's point of view IM SO INTERESTED 👁

[lady-quen]

He's so pretty, and for what? Just to suffer?

[quietbirdee]

little creature...

[fearthhereaper]

The way people still purposely misunderstand this scene to fit into their own narrative is insane.

How could have anyone watched this and thought that Alicent was being cruel and shaming the girl? Just saying whatever so they could paint Alicent as the bad guy. Like yes Alicent was being harsh and colder, but she showed more sympathy towards Dyana than any other noble would.

This is a woman who's aware of the position of other women of the world they're living in. A woman who knows that going against a man's word is useless, who knows that a woman's pain and SA will mean nothing and will be used to bring shame on that woman. A woman who knows that carrying your assaulter's baby is the worst thing imaginable and who is helping out the only way she can.

What was she supposed to do but tell her that she believes her (probably the only person who would), give her money (that as a maid she definitely needs), and help her with making sure she doesn't have to carry a baby of the man who raped her and ruin her own life by being branded a whore.

I wouldn't be as annoyed if the scene was left ambiguous by the writers but it wasn't. It was a very clear-cut scene that showed us that Alicent is helping these women in the only way she can.

It's not a matter of whether we agree or disagree on what happened because saying she was shaming the girl is just plain incorrect and ridiculous.

[vraisetzen]

Hiya V! How’re you? Hope you’re well! 💛

Out of curiosity, who are your top ten favorite ‘Demon Slayer’ characters and why? I’m really curious!

Thanks! Xxx

Hi Anon! I'm doing well, thank you!

This is a really good question! I've never really thought about my top ten KnY characters before because I love all of them, but if I absolutely have to single out ten of them, with a few underrated ones:

Kokushibo: Need I say more? Or rather, in the immortal words of Jane Austen, if I loved him less, I might be able to talk about him more. His unearthly beauty, his appreciation for talent and skill no matter who he fought, his envy for Yoriichi's gifts, his fear of his legacy being forgotten — all at odds with what is ultimately his all-too human desire to be seen and appreciated for his own skills. Kokushibo has done many unforgivable things in his long, long life — things which not even I can excuse nor downplay — but he is also an immensely complex and compelling individual fraught with at once the ugliest and most beautiful parts of humanity.

Muzan: I have read many manga series over the years, but seldom have I seen an antagonist as single-minded as Kibutsuji Muzan. Certainly, there are better written villains out there, with greater depth and harsher backstories, but the simplicity of Muzan's aims — to conquer the sun and become a perfect being — stands out in a sea of moustache-twiddling foes with schemes to take over the world. That he was born to comfort at a time of Japan's culture epoch, who saw nothing wrong with dirtying his aristocratic hands to kill a lowly doctor; that he did not mind subsisting on humans, but could not tolerate the idea of sitting in the shade whilst other languished in the sun; that he created demons as a tool for his objectives but ultimately saw them more as a hindrance — he is truly a man for himself. As he said in the final battle, was it not enough for the rest of you lot to still be alive? He is not trying to rule over the world, mind you — and even if one were to be so unlucky as to cross paths with him, it was, well, because they were down on their luck. He does not wish to play God, for he does not even care about these lowly mortals; this is truly his world, and we are all just living in it.

Douma: Douma IS brat, y'all. I have always loved unsympathetic villains as much as sympathetic ones, and the second Upper Moon is no exception. Make no mistake, there is nothing redeemable about Douma — he is a cult leader who takes pride in objectifying women as nothing but sustenance. I adore the moment when the light in his dazzling eyes shut off after Kanao calls him out his act. Yet, unlike other delightful sociopathic villains (Tsukiyama Shū from Tokyo Ghoul comes to mind), Douma never fully crosses the line into camp, as in the case of Gyokko; in his mind, he is as sincere as he can be, and he comes across as someone who truly enjoys being a demon and the benefits that come with it. In that sense, he is delightful to watch and even more delightful to hate, and I wished we saw him riling up the other Upper Moons more.

Nakime: In a different world, Nakime would be the perfect protagonist of a psychological thriller/slasher film a la Black Swan. Killing her husband was one thing, but finding the trembling of her fingers post-murder so musically inspiring that she did it again and again — this was a level of artistry that not even Gyokko could fathom in his wildest imaginations.

Rengoku Shinjurō: Reader, I can fix him — was the first thing I thought of when we saw Shinjurō properly for the first time. He is an interesting comparison against Uzui — both of them are retired Hashira, yet the former did not so much as leave a trailing blaze as he fell from grace. How useless must he have felt by the time of Rengoku Gaiden — losing his wife, disgracing his family's name? Likewise, he was no doubt feeling like a mutton dressed as a lamb when Uzui and Himejima joined the ranks of the Hashira. Though his abusive treatment of his children are reprehensible, they also stem from a deeply seated place of mid-life crisis, insecurity, and self-hatred.

Urokodaki Sakonji: There is a wonderful art from Chapter 90 which depicts Urokodaki carving two wooden dolls of Tanjiro and Nesuko — it moves me in a strange way that I cannot put properly into words, only that it encapsulates Urokodaki's compassion, empathy, and kindness in a manner that sets him apart from the typical elder mentor that we see in other shōnen works.

Kanroji Mitsuri: If we are talking about relatable characters, then there is no one I see myself in more than Mitsuri. Though I may not have her generous heart and endless capacity for kindness and love, I understand her struggle of not feeling like a good enough young lady of marriageable age. Her dyeing her hair, eating less and suppressing her naturally bubbly self in a bid to be more likeable — haven't we all been there? Truly, if there was someone in the entirety of KnY to whom I aspire, it would be Mitsuri.

Uzui Tengen: Though he may resent the Shrek comparison (or own it; it's tough to determine Uzui's actual taste when he brushes so close to being trailer trash), Uzui has layers — his flamboyant exterior belies a true concern for his wives and young charges, and if I may repeat myself once more: it is only when he is the most quiet (sneaking up on the shop owner to demand the whereabouts of Zenitsu, feeding Hinatsuru the antidote, giving Suma and Makio head pats) that he is the most himself. His inclination for all things shiny and extravagant is not merely an expression of himself after escaping from his family, it is also a way for him to cloak his true feelings of care — just as a true shinobi would.

Ubuyashiki Amane: There is so little we know of her besides that she was a shrine maiden, but her actions speak volumes. Her arranged marriage to Ubuyashiki could have left her resentful for it was tantamount to an arranged widowhood, but she nonetheless loved and took care of her young husband, and stayed firmly by his side till the very end. The anime does a stunning depiction of this through the eyecatch of her holding his bandaged, disease hand; and that close-up of her impassive face as the explosives set off around the estate, engulfing her and her husband in flames — she has always known what she was signing up for. A lesser person might have left, or ended their life, but Amane stayed true till the very last moment.

The magistrate who sentenced Hantengu: A true underrated favourite, so hear me out on this one; I think this man is easily one of the most righteous of the entire KnY series. He reminds me so much of the real-life historical figure, Ōoka Echizen (played to perfection by Katō Gō in the 1971 series of the same name, but this is a rabbit hole I shan't force on anyone...), who not only exposed Hantengu's lies, but also saw through that pitiful blind man act and gave him a proper sentence. In a kinder world, he could have adopted Daki and Gyutaro; or delivered justice for Akaza — but that is an AU for another time.

xoxo, V ♥️

[smittyw]

watching & dreaming getting rushed to death robbed us of the wonderful amazing potential of this guy

[seasonal-writes]

what if. golden rings AU grian and jimmy or tango and impulse <3 pls I need the boys so badly

wow! another request filled!! this is crazyyy wowoww anyway. have some Golden Rings Tango and Impulse. it's... very self-indulgent, i am so sorry. thanks for the request, theooooo. <3 (for a note: this isn't spoilers! so even if you haven't read golden rings/aren't caught up, you'll be fine! just a fun one-shot, somewhere in time in the golden rings AU!<3)

~ “Well, don’t you look official.”

Swiftly turning around, Impulse removes his hard gaze on the bedroom door, spinning around slowly to the new figure in the room. Backed by warm lantern light, the silhouetted, lithe figure’s shoulders shake with a soft laugh. 

“Didn’t even hear you come in,” Tango says, smirking, “Did I scare you?”

Impulse shakes his head. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that.” 

With a snort, Tango moves over to the vanity in the corner of the room. “You jumped. I saw it.”

Scanning over the prince, he focuses on the attire—clearly prepared for the evening’s events, but.. lacking. He grunts, noting the missing jewelry, lack of crown...

“Aren’t you ready, your majesty?” Impulse asks, voice low, “I’m tasked with escorting you to the ball within the next few minutes.” 

“Your majesty?” Tango asks, clearly taken aback. He turns around on the tiny, tufted stool and his mouth gapes. “We’re usin’ titles now?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

The prince dodges the inquiry. “What happened to Tango, huh? Get caught slipping?”

“No, sir. Just getting back into habit. It’s an important night.” 

Impulse moves further into the room. He takes post at a wall like usual, leaning against the perfect spot, that of which allows him to see Tango’s bedroom door in the reflection of the vanity but allows him to keep an eye on the prince too. 

“I guess.”  Tango shrugs, turning back around and facing himself in the mirror. He fiddles with a box, cracking it open and revealing a bright bunch of golden bits and bobs within. Digging his claws in, Tango pulls a couple indistinct pieces of jewelry and sets them down. It’s all very slow, Impulse notices, far too methodical for Tango who is..usually rather decisive regarding these things. 

“Your highness,” he says again, like a warning. 

“I know, I know. Late. ” Tango rolls his eyes, both hands working to fasten an earring, “Late to a bunch of chatter.” 

“It’s important to your father.”

“Yeah, but why do I have to go dance with a bunch of strangers? It’s his party.” 

At that notion, Tango’s eyes suddenly flick up in the mirror, meeting Impulse as he fastens in the other earring. There is a quick smile, and he’s turned around again, to which Impulse wants to groan in irritation. Here we go. 

“Hey, Impy.” 

“Yes?”

“Do you ever dance at parties?” 

With a sigh, Impulse shakes his head. For the moment, he feels his knightly exterior slipping into the casual conversation the two commonly shared. He tries to hold steady. 

“Is this really the time? My liege-”

Tango pats at his thighs eagerly. “Come on! I’m curious.” 

Offering a heavy eye roll, Impulse leans his back against the wall. 

“Not often, no. Now, will you please get ready?” 

“Do any knights know how to dance?” Tango teases, “Aren’t you taught that in your training?” 

He’s standing now. That familiar, memorized shape of his charge’s body slinking towards him. The darkly colored fabric of Tango’s skirt consumes the greater, lower half of him and makes him look a little like a ghost, if not for the bright and lively eyes. If not for the dazzling smile. Had Impulse been a braver man, he would’ve told Tango how lovely he looked—only for the idea to make his mouth go dry. 

“My job isn’t to dance, your highness.” 

“Well, ya can’t go to a ball without knowing how to dance, can you, Sir Impulse? Since we’re using titles now..” 

His title, sitting so playfully on Tango’s tongue, sends Impulse’s heart into a stampede. Impulse tries his best not to gulp, swallowing a mouthful of words. He knows his task, and yet, the prince always did so well at weakening his backbone.

Tango, now very close, stares up at Impulse. Unsure if it’s a trick of the light, or if there is actually something to cause the effect, Impulse can almost see a shimmer across Tango’s face. They often had moments in this dimness, when the lanterns go from simulating a sense of daylight and are turned down to something more representative of the night: lower, quieter, warmer. Something in the spare firelight makes the prince glow, and it makes Impulse feel particularly reverent. 

But his brain gets the better of him, and Impulse just stares right back with a more insistent look. One that says please your father is absolutely going to kill me if we don’t go and come on and Tango, but he feels Tango’s hand brushing at his and his face feels like it’s gotten a hundred degrees hotter. 

“Come on,” Tango says, pulling Impulse from the wall. 

Something inside lets him move. He weakens, unable to say no. 

“No music,” he mumbles awkwardly, one last ditch effort to stop the whole affair. 

“Eh, who needs it?” 

The two find themselves in the middle of the room. Prince Tango’s eyes roam over the knight’s demeanor, leaving what feel like tangible, burning lines that melt through Impulse’s armor. 

"Usually it’s...”

“Sir Impulse, you really don’t want to dance with me, do you?” 

“That’s not what I said,” Impulse says, “it’s just that you’re expected downstairs and..”

Pushing closer, Tango enters Impulse’s space fully now, sending Impulse’s words off into the ether. His defenses shatter. Gently taking Impulse’s hand away from the hilt of his sword, which he’d found himself holding tightly, Tango presses the gloved hand to his waist. Impulse feels jitters crawl up the arm, hand twitching. 

For the first time, Impulse’s composure cracks, breath hitching. He hopes Tango doesn’t notice, the prince now taking his other hand. When he finally looks at Impulse, the knight straightens his back out of habit, and Tango smirks. Impulse feels his breath brush across his face, tickling his skin. There is a heavy feeling settling all over, and it makes him want to either tuck tail and run or just plain melt. He can’t decide which. 

“Perfect,” Tango hums, “You just keep your hand there, alright?” 

“This is.. very against my oaths to your father,” Impulse says, gesturing to their clasped hands, “You realize that, right?” 

“Of course I do.” Tango grins. He takes a step, leading Impulse into the beginnings of a very slow, clunky waltz. “Don’t worry, you won’t be smote. I won’t blab if you won’t.”

“He’s going to ask where we’ve been.”

“And? I’m the prince, I can do what I want.”

“...To an extent.”

“Are you questioning my power?”

“I think you deserve it, your highness,” Impulse says, letting a smile slip. 

Tango makes a face, screwed up in playful frustration. A laugh bubbles up in Impulse’s throat, flowing out in a hefty, rasped chuckle. When Tango smiles, it’s overwhelmingly fond, sending a chill down Impulse’s spine. 

The two slowly move around the empty space, making messy shapes with their path. Impulse finds that he can’t quite get the hand on Tango’s waist to relax. The fingers dangle, his palm hovers, the side of the prince only brushing against the inside of his glove when certain movements allow it. There is something that prevents it, and if not for the fact that Tango laced their fingers together, the other hand would likely be the same way. 

“You know, you can touch me,” Tango suddenly says, noticing the hesitance. 

He removes his hand from Impulse’s shoulder without skipping a step, bringing it down and pressing Impulse’s hand into his waist. His fingers instinctively wrap around, digging into soft muscle and slipping towards his back. 

When the desire to pull Tango in makes itself apparent—when it slips through the broken defenses, he lets it. He listens, using the hand to pull Tango closer. It feels so much like second nature that Impulse swears he has never acted in a way that felt more correct. 

Tango lets out a breath, like he meant to laugh, but it comes out as more of a delicate gasp. Impulse doesn’t know what to say, all the words caught in the back of his throat. The room feels smaller, narrowing to how it feels to have Tango this close, in his grip. The walls blur around him, his focus landing on the prince before him, staring slightly wide-eyed. Instead of shock, it looks more like bewilderment—a pleasant surprise, he hopes, to be held this way.

Impulse feels something well up in his chest, something he can’t quite put a name to. It was warm, and fuzzy, and making itself at home in the very deepest corners of his heart. It’s distracting, it’s overwhelming. 

So much so, that he isn’t quite sure when they stopped moving. 

When Impulse meets his eyes, Tango immediately looks away. He sees the skin of his glowing face grow pinker. They stand still, locked in what now feels like an embrace.

“...You’re not half-bad,” Tango says, his voice barely above a whisper, “And you said you don’t dance.”

“I said I don’t do it often.” 

Regaining his composure—or, attempting to, Impulse clears his throat. When he lets go of Tango, his hands drag. He almost wishes, for a moment, it was his skin: ungloved, unobstructed touch. It’s painfully slow, as if savoring every centimeter, before he steps away. 

“Well,” he says, “Now that you’ve sufficiently distracted me..”

Tango doesn’t respond for a moment, hands lightly wringing in front of him as he looks down at the floor. Impulse’s hand rests back on the hilt of his sword, and he makes for the door, posting up near it. 

He tries his best to ignore how everything inside him burns, offering a glance to Tango once more. 

Impulse can’t help how, when he speaks, his voice feels so full. His throat feels tight, heart pounding. 

“Are you ready, my prince?” 

(And what if I said “my prince”  but actually meant-)

“..Um. Yeah, yes, of course,” Tango says, “We should go. Late enough as is.” 

And when Tango lightly touches Impulse’s arm as he passes him on the way out, muttering something that sounds like a “thank you” under his breath, the grip on his hilt tightens. 

He tries not to fall to pieces. 

[fatass-adam]

Me: *Has a Pinterest board for Adam shit called Fatass Adam*

Me: *Finds adorable Abel stuff on Pinterest amongst the Adam stuff*

Me: *Makes a new board call My Fatass Son*

[sapphos-ruwumate-artblog]

Made this for the Cringetober Candygore prompt :) I'm a bit late because stuff got in the way! But here she is.

[mazeppafanart]

“Eggman pls stop...or...things that artists do on us will be canon” :’)

Why is Sonic so interested ‘bout Eggy’s channel btw?? (¬‿¬) 

[inkykeiji]

SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKS in my ask

.

.

.

Clari did you see the new reveal about Dabi’s quirk. I’m fucking dying. Screaming, crying, throwing up.

He was always perfect :,(

But we already knew that

bnha manga spoilers

i did, kind of! i honestly try not to look too far into them & make assumptions until i can read the whole chapter for myself (because sometimes i find the leaks summaries are misleading or poorly explained) so i’m not 100% sure how i feel about this! i have a lot of questions. for example, based on the summary we got, it says that new abilities are awoken only close to death. so how far, theoretically, would enji had had to push touya to get this to manifest/show up/come out of him? would he had to push him to the brink of death to get it? why didn’t it show up when touya was 13 and nearly burned to death? or did it show up then at age 13, somehow, and dabi’s just been conveniently hiding it until now? additionally, does this actually have any impact on neutralizing his flames and the fact that his body was not built for them? does it help in that aspect? can it help in that aspect? many many maaaany questions.

i said this last night in my little rant/vent post but if dabi ends up living i will be thoroughly and immensely disappointed. as much as i love dabi with every fiber of my being and my whole entire heart, and as much as i wish there was a way for him to continue living, him having a well written and impactful ending to his story matters more to me and it’s what he deserves as a character. he deserves a GOOD ending. dabi surviving this makes absolutely zero sense and would be such a horrid ending for his story as a whole, especially considering the fact that, logically, if he were to live the only place he’d end up is jail for life; he can’t claim insanity, not when they have a video of him fully and lucidly explaining and admitting to his crimes. he knew exactly what he was doing all along, obv. letting him off with a slap on the wrist because he has ~trauma~ (aw, boohoo, so do i and i don’t murder innocents) and is the number one hero’s son is so fucking stupid, not to mention extremely unfair and goes against pretty much all of dabi’s beliefs (false heroes, heroes being treated differently etc).

anyway sorry i went off on a tangent there HAHA i could write u an entire essay on why i think dabi’s end should be his (and enji’s!) death so i tried to keep it brief while still explaining myself properly but!! honestly, i’m extremely critical when it comes to dabi’s character arc/story, and him not getting the well written, heart wrenching ending he deserves has been a heavy fear of mine preeeetty much since i picked up this series.

in sum: not sure how i feel about the sudden ice quirk thing, trying not to overreact or make any serious judgements until this whole bit of the story has played out. trying v hard to have faith and trust in hori and his skills as a storyteller because i know he has the capacity to make this phenomenal and i hope to whatever god is out there that it doesn’t get fucked up by fan service.

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

#We are holding hands waiting for the end

Manga readers and anime-onlys on Wednesday, 20th of September as episode 11 gets released:

[ID: A gif of a scene from Rogue One. Jyn and Cassian hug as they die in an explosion. End ID]

we're all in this together

[ID: An edited Lord of the Rings scene. In the first picture Gimli labelled "manga readers" says: "Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with anime-onlys." In the second picture Legolas labelled "anime-onlys" replies: "What about side by side with a friend?" Gimli labelled "manga readers" says: "Aye... I could do that." End ID]

[dazzelmethat]

Cricket Cat concept. Do you see it? Do you see my vision? I don't think they'd purr or meow, just chirp with their wings.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[datcravat]

It seems there's a new lawyer in town!!!