#let me pass time in peace!!

[solstheimtxt]

Also mobile phone game ads that interrupt your music, or worse, completely shut your music off and reset the song youre listening to? Instant death penalty

[zeravmeta]

we give garp a lot of (rightly deserved) shit but unironically like 90% of the criticisms towards him i see not only ignore the wider worldbuilding context of one piece but also don't acknowledge how sengoku is like the worst friend ever

[kindred-spirit-93]

CRACK CONCEPT

boyfailure odysseus as opposed to the inherently sharp wolfish (hes still snarky and clever imma give him that) king boi bc telemachus has to get it from somewhere and it aint penelope lol

i really love the idea of a people & street smart ody getting adopted by athena and becoming book & war smart as well u feel me. but this isnt what im talking about here. i want him pathetic and snivelling on his knees. idk its funny okay

just imagine he comes home after troy and he bonds with tele and theyre both idiots (penelopes idiots) ody is making up for 10 years away from home and is goofy with his son and pretends to faint everytime penelope walks by bc shes just sp stunning and awesome and actually faints when he realises hes legit married to her. i now realise this doesnt entirely fit the category of boyfailure lol but it do. TO ME

inspired by napolean dynamites award winning dance. i watched it and was like 💡 odysseus of ithaca. imagine him just doing that as a mating dance to penelope (owlthena can i get an amen) esp him running off without a word arms awkwardly by his side DO YALL SEE THE VISION

ofc they all have family idiot sessions where athena holds the braincell and they all roll down hills and frolic in the fields but for the most part penny holds le braincells bc ody is too busy teaching tele something entirely useless (and possibly illegal) bc its very funny (think of the scene where mater and mcqueen get the cows to fall back lol)

AM I MAKING ANY SENSE?

[skeletoninthemelonland]

[lunarharp]

wanted to adapt the google search results a gay woman got in a japanese drama "tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna" which is good btw.

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[raymurata]

My mind is hunting me for sport lol

[adderallanomaly]

im just gonna go to bed. theres nothing here for me right now

[dirtytransmasc]

(personal vent about my sack of shit father ruining christmas again)

me, my fathers only "daughter"/child:

helps my grandmother for weeks to prepare for his christmas party that neither of us wanted (he goes way over the top. invites his friends that are all loud drunks. cooks food we don't like. keeps the whole house up partying into the early hours of the morning. makes a mess and refuses to clean up after himself. doesn't spend time with us and instead hangs out with his friends, even for family holidays and events. etc.

me and my grandmother are disabled, constantly in pain/have stomach issues, and generally just want to be left on our own for holidays, so the whole event is just awful for us)

has been up since 6* in the morning, continuing to prepare for his party so he doesn't throw a hissy fit, running on only a few hours of sleep*, running around from store to store, cleaning, cooking, decoaring, etc.

spends hours trying to wake him up.

after doing everything I am capable of skill/strength wise, I took a two hour power nap before guests come.

helps serve dinner, makes drinks, fulfills every task my father gives me to maintain the delicate peace in the household, cause my grandmother wants to murder him*.

does all of this with no complaint.

my father:

promises his full and undivided attention and help the day before the party (this is the only day he's offered the slightest help outside of making a huge dinner no one but he and his friends wanted), he then breaks this promise, does nothing, delegates every task my grandmother has given him to me, and then leaves at 6 at night to go party, ignoring the amount of cooking he needs to finish.

doesn't come home for almost 12 hours (he came home at 6am), waking me up*, sleeps till 1, leaving me and my gradnmother do 90% of the things that needed to be done today (as his guests are coming at 4).

invites more friends than he originally told us about, ditching us after dinner (which we served) to go hang out outside and blast music so loud it shakes the house.

and then complains that I "slept all day" and "did nothing" so now I need to clean the whole kitchen and all the dishes of over 15 guests, not him, the reason there's such a mess to clean.

he continues to demand this even after something he cooks, knowing I hate it and it makes me feel ill, and stinks up the whole kitchen, making me go lie down because it made me nauseous and gave me a migraine.

I then get to spend the rest of my christmas eve cleaning, doing dishes, while barely holding back tears.

thanks dad, for ruining an already awful christmas, you fucking asshole.

[phe-purple-parade]

Pls sir,, put me out of my misery, cut me off, this extension has been too far extended just tell me I'll pass with what I've got so far and end this TORTURE

[echoesofadream]

Stress

[feverflushed]

[Silly shenanigans in the tags, just need to vent, don't mind me]

[orcelito]

Honestly I find it hilarious that I've accidentally made it a thing of Vash being a horse girl (gender neutral) bc I'm writing his tomas as a weird horse

Chica the tomas was an accident. She was unplanned. I just tossed her in on a whim, realized I loved her, realized VASH loves her, & now a bunch of readers love her too

I've also gotten a few comments like "man I hope nothing bad happens to her!" And I'm over here just Sweating bc like

Objectively? That Bird Cannot Stay In The Story. If Vash keeps her, she will die. There is no WAY a normal mount would survive the utter chaos of his life in the coming months. Either he gets rid of her, or she dies. There's really no middle ground.

Which makes me sad :( I love Chica the tomas and itnl Vash loves her too

[pizzabookbuying]

trying to let myself be sad and comforted at the same time