#not even conveniently shortened to anything

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

Anyway in my opinion professor villainous and lord boxman are dating since pv's first appearance and pv just doesn't like boxman as much as boxman likes him

[timeflow]

good evening reddit users, welcome to the website. not seen one of these that tells you how to make this website bearable so here goes

starting off with dashboard settings you want to turn off endless scrolling (it slows down the website after a while of scrolling), turn off shorten long posts because one of the main things about this website is the total lack of a character limit (as an alternative to this setting, you can press j to skip to the next post on the dashboard if the current one is kind of long). turning on timestamps is convenient because it allows you to check when a post was made (don't get me wrong: this website absolutely LOVES reblogging old posts, but there are times when it's worth checking if a post has very old news in it)

turn off best stuff first right away. one of the main reasons cited for joining tumblr is because "there is no algorithm". this is not entirely true, we have one but we routinely turn off anything algorithmic that staff adds. turning off best stuff first means your dashboard will be reverse chronological no matter what, and turning off based on your likes and stuff in your orbit will get rid of the rest of the algorithmically-recommended content that appears on your dashboard

following tags is nice because you will occasionally see posts with tags you follow sprinkled into your dashboard. this is considered good because it's almost always recent, I personally recommend turning on include followed tag posts and just following a bunch of random tags that you think could be interesting (characters, media, topics, whatever)

this one's a more personal thing but I would absolutely turn off any community labels because tumblr staff has recently been just putting a bunch of random posts under this despite being entirely sfw. if you ACTUALLY want to filter content, then go to filtered tags:

unlike the community labels which are put arbitrarily by staff, tags are put on by the actual users and so you can MUCH more reliably filter out content you don't want to see by putting filtered tags. this also works for any kind of content unlike the community labels, meaning you can just filter out stuff that you don't want to see (a particular character, a particular piece of media, a certain topic, anything you want really)

turn on custom theme immediately. the standard view of tumblr.com/url will give people who are not logged in a forced login wall, meanwhile url.tumblr.com will not. by doing this you also get access to your post archive at url.tumblr.com/archive, which lets you look through your posts more easily (the search function is awful). the main benefit of this, however, is that you get to have a custom look to your blog: going to edit theme brings up a menu that allows you to customize your css, add pages to your tumblr blog, etc. all very useful stuff

it's also worth taking the time to consider whether or not you leave your liked posts and list of blogs you follow public (most people have likes turned off, following is also commonly turned off but I personally don't care about others seeing who I follow)

turn off the let people blaze your posts. blaze basically allows you to pay money to show a post to a random group of people by paying money, suffices to say that allowing others to blaze your posts without your consent will inevitably lead to one of your personal posts getting blazed by some prick and now hundreds of people have seen it

asks are one of the main ways of interacting with blogs so absolutely turn them on. whether you allow anons is your choice, anonymity allows people to say nice things without feeling embarrassed about how everyone knows who said that, but it also allows people to send hateful stuff with no consequence.

submissions are like whatever. I personally leave them on but in my 5 years of having this blog I've been submitted to twice.

to close off this post I'll leave my personal thoughts on reblog etiquette:

reblogging is great. reblog the fuck out of anything. does the post amuse you slightly? reblog it. go wild

that being said please don't put anything in your reblogs unless it's like a really important comment. your comment will be immortalized forever if someone reblogs the post from you and on popular posts I have to constantly go back a couple years to get rid of an annoying comment like "LOL THIS IS SO FUNNY" because that person didn't realize that their addition was wholly unnecessary

if you DO want to add something to say your thoughts on the post in a quiet voice that doesn't get permanently added onto the original, consider talking in the tags of your reblog. this is considered nicer since when the post is reblogged from you your tags are not going to stick around. there is also this process known as "peer review" in which if your tags are sufficiently funny one of your followers (or sometimes a random person browsing the notes of the post) will screenshot/copy and paste your tags into a reblog, which is a much more natural way of having your comment added into the post

tags are also nice to use or organizational purposes. clicking on a post with a certain tag on your blog will show you every post with that tag on your blog allowing you to find posts later, alternatively you can go to url.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/[insert tag here] to a similar effect.

that's all I have to say on this subject. have fun on our glorious website

edit: oh yeah also unfollow staff. it will make you look normal 👍

[maddogofshimano]

A Tiny Man Among Men: Kiryu Boss Rush

oh boy this one was a real hoot. we got two new cards with it that I want to show off because they’re so fun

look at them!! that’s the fish he caught in the opening of Y3!!!!!

summary: Shortly after moving to Okinawa, Kiryu faces down with his most cunning foe yet--a crayfish.

2007 Not long after Kiryu came to Okinawa... Kiryu was invited by a local resident named Uchima to help with a river clean-up event (tl note: name is 内間)

Kiryu: Uchima-san... Is this the river we're supposed to be cleaning up?

Uchima: Sure is. Filthy, right? It's usually beautiful, but inconsiderate people keep throwing garbage into it. Uchima: It's particularly bad right now... I clean trash out of it every month, but before I know it there's more trash than ever. Kiryu: ...That's awful. Uchima: I think up stream's a bit prettier, so how about you handle that since it's your first time. Kiryu: No, I'm fine right here. You should do the up stream. Uchima: ...Eh? A-Are you sure? I'll take you up on that kind offer, I've been having some awful back pain. Kiryu: Sure. I'll do it. Uchima: Well then, I'll get going, and if you need anything just let me know. Uchima: ...Oh, right. Kiryu-san, please watch out for the animals. Kiryu: ? Watch out for... animals? Uchima: During clean-ups, I've had crows and rats and other such animals knock over the trash and cause all sorts of issues. Uchima: Since these are the elite survivors of all the extermination activities done in this area, a lot of them are strangely intelligent. Uchima: This one time a weasel snuck into our house, got into our fridge, and stole all of our food--and mice have been pooping on the mouse traps, almost like they were making fun of us humans... Kiryu: ...Heh, so it's that kind of situation. I got it. I'll be careful. Uchima: Great, see ya then. <he leaves> Kiryu: ...Alright, let's get to it.

<sounds of Kiryu splashing around in the river> Kiryu: ...Whew. Plastic bottles in a convenience store garbage bag... how can someone just dump this in a river...

Kiryu: Seriously... Who the hell would... <a blade-like sound happens> Kiryu: ...Guh!? What the!? American Crayfish: ................. (tl note: also known as the red swamp crayfish, Procambarus clarkii. I'm shortening it just to crayfish from here on)

Kiryu: A crayfish!? ...It was in the trash's crevice!? <another slicing sound, Kiryu steps to the side> Kiryu: Kh... You're quick on your feet... Crayfish: ..... Kiryu: It's back on top of that garbage again. Kiryu: ...I just want to clean up that trash. I don't mean you any harm... so let's just be adults here...

Crayfish: ....! <some kind of hissing sound?> Kiryu: ...No good. If I reach towards it any further, it will definitely catch me. On the other hand, I can't just leave this garbage here. Kiryu: What can I even do here? <a long moment passes in silence> Kiryu: I've got it. There was some dried squid in the trash I just picked up. I'll use it as bait to draw the crayfish away from here. Kiryu: ........Loook, is this some dried squid? Isn't that tasty? Wouldn't it be nice to eat~?

Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: C'mere, c'mereeee, won't you~? If you won't eat it, maybe I should~? Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: ...No reaction at all. Maybe it's not hungry? (tl note: he's so mad that his plan didn't work)

Kiryu: (If that isn't going to work... Then there's gotta be something else that will guy this guy to move.) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing, and it smacks into Kiryu before bouncing back> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Munch... munch... Kiryu: I-It... took advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration... It took the squid!? Kiryu: Uchima-san said "there are smart animals around here"... don't tell me... this guy's one of them!!?? (tl note: Kiryu. you may be stupid) Crayfish: Shaaaa! Kiryu: ....Excellent. If a battle of wits is what you want, I'll show you what human intelligence is like...! 

<Kiryu ducks down> Kiryu: (...Good, this rock is exactly what I need. Now... Just gotta throw it behind it...) <the rock goes sailing with a comical whistle and a tiny splash> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: (...Great. Now I can catch it when it's distracted and has its back turned...) Crayfish: .............. Kiryu: ............... Crayfish: .................... Kiryu: (It didn't turn around.....!? Could it be... it read my intentions....?) Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: Actually, where is this guy looking...... It's like there's something behind me..... Crayfish: ....! <another hiss and a slicing sound as Kiryu gets crayfish'd> Kiryu: Guh!

Kiryu: (This guy... the moment I turned my head... it went and pinched me on my damn ass...) Kiryu: (Was its gaze a trap...? Did it read my intentions... and then decide to get revenge?) Kiryu: ...What a clever crayfish. Kiryu: ........ Kiryu: ...Heh, you beat me. I guess I'll give up on those trash bags. <Kiryu leaves> Crayfish: ................... Kiryu: (...But, that was just to make it look that way... The moment it lets its guard down... I'll catch it...!) <Crayfish hisses at Kiryu> Kiryu: .....! Kiryu: Mmm... it feels good to stretch out my arms. This hand would absolutely for certain never ever be trying to catch you~. Crayfish: ........... Kiryu: (Yes, its defenses are down... now!) <The crayfish hisses again> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: ....! Mmmm... still just stretching out my arms~.

Kiryu: (Damn... It's not turning around yet... what a distrusting creature.) Kiryu: (Yes... now---) <Crayfish hisses again, now with Kiryu much closer> Crayfish: ....! Kiryu: ...Ahhh~. Stretching my arms feels so good~.

Kiryu: (Damn... this guy... How many times is it going to look back here...) Riverside Resident A: ...That person... What's that person doing? Riverside Resident B: It looks like he's playing "Red Light Green Light" with a crayfish... I wonder if that poor guy doesn't have any friends... Kiryu: (...Shit... The stares of passersby are painful...) Kiryu: (I don't think continuing like this is going to get me anywhere... Maybe it's time to abandon this tactic...) Crayfish: ...Shaashaaa.... Kiryu: (It... waved its pincers like a peace sign... Could it be that this is what it wanted?) Kiryu: (In order to humiliate me, did it play along by pretending to be fooled..?) Kiryu: (Just how smart is this thing... and how the hell do I make it leave?) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing as it leaps onto Kiryu> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Shashaaaa! Kiryu: Guh, this guy... it jumped on me so fast. Kiryu: That was awfully aggressive... I guess you've decided we're total enemies... Crayfish: Sha! .....Shaa? Crayfish: ....Sha!? Sha! Shaaaa! Kiryu: (It... got distracted by a fly... It turned around completely!?) Kiryu: (Heh, no matter how smart it is, in the end it's just an animal... This is my chance... I'm going to catch this thing now!) Kiryu: Haa! <wooshing sound> Crayfish: ....Sha! <slicing sound> Kiryu: Guhh!? Kiryu: (Stupid... I tried to grab hold of its back, but it pinched my hand...) Kiryu: (I was using its blind spot to catch it... how did it know...) Crayfish: Shashashashasha.... Kiryu: Damn... It's doing that gesture again. Kiryu: (You're kidding... was getting distracted by a fly all an act!? Did it use that as a trap so it could attack me when I got near!?) Kiryu: (It's looking down on me... But now I have to admit that it's smart... maybe even smarter than me...) Kiryu: (Even so... there's still a way to do this... there's something in the trash, I'm sure.) Crayfish: Shaaa! <hissing> Crayfish: ....Shaa!? <it falls into the water> Kiryu: ...Wh-! That guy was swinging its arms around as a threat but then... it fell!? Crayfish: Shaa... Shaa... !? Kiryu: And it landed on its back so it seems it can't get back up. Heh, what an unexpectedly stupid move. Kiryu: This time I'm going to catch you...! Haaa! <another whoosh> Crayfish: ...Sha! <a big slicing sound> Kiryu: ...Heh, of course not being able to get back up was an act too. Kiryu: I knew that you'd try to trick me into another attack like that, since you see me as your enemy and look down on me. Kiryu: But... this time I grabbed you not with my bare hands, but with these disposable chopsticks. Kiryu: Bad luck for you. You didn't pinch my finger... just these chopsticks that were thrown in the river! Crayfish: ...!? Kiryu: I'll throw these chopsticks with you still latched on... then I'll be free to finish cleaning up the trash!! Haa!! Crayfish: ...!! Kiryu: (Yes... It's still holding onto the chopsticks...! Take this...!!) <a crunching sound> Kiryu: ....! Crayfish: Sha... Shaaa...! Kiryu: Damn... so the chopsticks were rotten huh... The couldn't withstand the force of the throw and broke...

Kiryu: I was so close to getting this guy out of here... Crayfish: ...Shaa! Kiryu: You're a clever thing, I don't think the same trick will work on you twice. That said, I can't think of any other tricks to try... Kiryu: ...Well, it's fine. I concede. I can't beat you in a battle of wits. Crayfish: Sha? <the music cuts out> Kiryu: ...But, I still have to make this river beautiful. Kiryu: It doesn't matter how many times I get pinched... If I take you head on, I will catch you. Crayfish: ............! Crayfish: Shaaaa!!!!

<EVENT HAPPENS, WHICH IS A BOSS RUSH VS THE CRAYFISH>

Kiryu: Haa... Haa... Haa...!

<Kiryu gets close to the crayfish and grabs it> Crayfish: ....!? Kiryu: ...Whew, I finally caught you. Crayfish: Shaaa! Shaaaa! Kiryu: I'm holding you by your back. You can't get me with your pincers anymore. Kiryu: Finally, I can clean up this garbage... Huh? Small Crayfishes: Shashaa! Kiryu: Inside this garbage there's... baby crayfish... wait, are these your children? Crayfish: Shaa! Shaaa! Kiryu: ....I see. You were just trying to protect them. Kiryu: What I saw as a simple convenience store bag full of garbage was a nest you had to protect. Kiryu: ............ <he sets the crayfish down> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: I'm sorry for causing a disturbance on your turf. Kiryu: I'll tell Uchima-san and the others to leave your garbage alone. Crayfish: ....Shaaa! <fade to black> Haruka: Oh, you're back Uncle Kaz!

Kiryu: ...Yep. I'm home, Haruka. Haruka: You were doing the river clean-up, right? Did you clean a lot? Kiryu: Yes. Though I almost cleaned up too much, and would have taken away an important home for the animals living there... Kiryu: I'm really glad I noticed it soon enough. Haruka: Is that so... I'm glad. You almost became an "invasive species" to that area, Uncle Kaz. Kiryu: ...Invasive species? Haruka: Yep. I learned about it today in science class. Invasive species take away the habitats of the animals who lived there originally. Haruka: That's why it's bad to release non-native species into the wild. Kiryu: ...I see. I don't know much about that, so I'll have to be mindful. Kiryu: By the way, what kinds of non-native species are there? Haruka: Ummm there's... raccoons, and black bass, and snapping turtle, and american bullfrogs... Kiryu: Woah... So even some of the animals we know. Haruka: Oh, and the american crayfish! Kiryu: A... American crayfish!? Haruka: U-Um, yeah. They eat the native species, spread disease, and damage the ecosystem. Kiryu: What the hell... Kiryu: But... It's not like they're trying to cause trouble, right? Kiryu: If you live, you have to eat and you have to get sick... It's not like they can help it if that ends up being an issue. Haruka: ...Wellll... I guess that's true, but...

Kiryu: Besides, I can assuredly say that this one’s devoted to their family. For their family's sake, they had the bravery to stand up to someone bigger than themself. Haruka: ....This one? Kiryu: I don't know if they were male or female, but they were a true man among men. If they were a human, I'd like to share a drink with them... Kiryu: ...I know. Haruka, why don't you come meet them? I'm sure you'll change your mind if you just meet-- Haruka: Uncle Kaz... did something happen with a crayfish?

<END EVENT>

Bonus stuff:

you don’t understand Haruka the yakuza invasive species are just trying to live their lives the only way they can! and sure they might be destructive but what else can they do? maybe that morally gray father figure crayfish was taking care of orphans!!

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Just had a thought a continue of my archon ask

How about there reaction to reader accidentally killing there attacker

-🌮annon

You can ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable

i didn't really go into detail about the whole murder part, more so the aftermath so no worries :D i hope you enjoy

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of murder, delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, psychological bullying, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would use this to his advantage, helping you dispose of the body and discard all the evidence. This is how he keeps you tied to him, by saying he’ll expose your secret to everyone with no shame. 

He didn’t care how you felt about him, now there was really no leaving him. He had helped you get rid of a body after you accidentally murdered someone, there’s no coming back after that. You can’t even blame him for it because he made sure he that he left no traces behind, but your dna was under the nails of the attacker, your fingerprints were on the murder weapon that he conveniently forgot to burn, and you were the last one seen with the deceased. If anything, the second you act out of line he’s threatening to expose you to everyone. He’d never actually do it, but he’s very good at making you think he will.

Yandere!Zhongli would simply sigh in frustration. Of course he’s more than willing to help cover up your crime, after all he doesn’t wish to see his beloved rotting away in a cell. He never lets you live it down though, using the haunting memory of it to constantly beat you down mentally.

“Don’t go acting all innocent now, you’ve already killed a man, breaking a vase should feel like nothing to you. You’re a murderer after all.” Zhongli’s smile was pleasant and gentle looking, but his tone was anything but. He stood over you as you knelt on the floor, weeping over his reaction to you breaking a prized vase of his. Of course he had expected you to accidentally break it at some point, having replaced all his original artworks with replicas, but he had still found joy in bringing up your haunting little secret every chance he got.

Yandere!Raiden would do nothing personally. She’d instruct some of her faithful servants to handle it, keeping you locked inside Tenshukaku with her for a while. She doesn’t bring it up, but you can tell with the way she looks at you, that she’s upset with you.

Another silent meal, another long hour spent awkwardly eating your food as she sat across the table from you staring you down unblinkingly. It wasn’t that she stared at you, it was something you had actually grown rather used to, but the way she stared at you. Like a mother catching their child sneaking desserts before dinner or a father catching his son playing with his tools. That look of sheer disapproval. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand it.

Yandere!Furina is conflicted. On one hand, she doesn’t want her citizens to think she favors you above justice, but on the other, she knows you’ll be deemed guilty and locked up and she simply can’t bear to be without you. So she calls for a private hearing and keeps the case under tight surveillance. Of course, the family of the victim has no idea that the whole trial is fake, has no idea that the way you cry as you're dragged out of the courtroom to an awaiting prison is all an act, one very carefully constructed by Furina and her closest confidant, Neuvillette. 

Furina feigns heartbreak as she watches you get hauled out of the courtroom. She’s decided to overrule your sentencing and punish you herself in your shared home. In the basement of the lavish manor she had a special cell prepared for you, where you would fulfill your shortened sentence. This is so that you understand the severity of your crimes without her having to give up her time with you. Furina doesn’t think you deserve to spend any time behind bars, considering it was an accident, but she’s the Archon of Justice and the family of the deceased demanded something be done.

[cosmicladyy]

"OW, that’s too rough!"

"I wouldn't have to be if you'd just stay still!"

"You're gonna rip my finger off," your husband yowled and snatched his claws away from your grasp, giving you a nasty look as if you were intentionally trying to cause him pain.

you're aware of bowser's objections to having his nails trimmed, you could hear his complaining echo throughout the whole castle whenever he was forced into it by kamek; complaints flying out about it being the worst pain he's ever had to endure.

(you asked Junior if it was true, to which he denied and said he never felt anything when he had to get his claws cut. he just told you that his dad was a crybaby when it came to this sort of thing.)

you were happy to let him grow out his claws to his heart's content, if he didn't leave you completely covered in scratches from doing the littlest things. outside of the usual reasons you'd be left that disheveled, he didn't have the best handle on them now that they were so long. he somehow managed to destroy your favorite shirt just from giving you a hug.

he was scheduled for a filing a few days ago. conveniently, he was too busy training some new recruits; then, every day after that, he has somehow been able to evade you. for such a large and easy-to-spot guy, Bowser proved to be hard to pin down.

"sorry honey, it's getting late and i'm ready to hit the sack." it was 7:30 in the evening.

"I- uh- have to run some drills with the kids!" they were out of the castle that day.

"whining isn't going to make me go quicker," so, you took on the burden of filing down his claws.

you managed to catch him off guard when he snuck out of bed for a midnight snack. clad in just your pj's and whatever slippers were available, you cornered him, a metal nail filer gripped tightly in your hand.

the 'fight', if you could even call it that, might've alarmed a few guards with the pots and pans you brought down with you as you pinned down the stubborn turtle. it took some convincing that there was no real threat and that you were doing it for his own good; their king ordering them to help him from the floor didn't help your case.

where you got the nerve to defy him, he'll never know.

It's silent after that. the only sounds filling the room are dramatic hissing and the back-and-forth sawing of the filer.

If he wasn't mourning the loss of his long minion shredders, Bowser would've been over the moon at the domestic gesture. you, tending to his nails to ensure they were in perfect shape, and him getting to soak in your warmth as you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

why did he even have to cut his nails down anyway? it's not like he has to. they're perfectly fine and just add to his cool, jagged persona. So unfa-

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't breath on my neck so much."

your only answer is an even heavier puff of warm air that's closer and had more power behind it, "it's not like they were buggin' anybody."

"i have a giant scratch on my back that says otherwise." his arm that you weren't holding wraps around your middle almost apologetically.

he grumbles behind you as you softly blow at the newly shortened, still sharp claw, "see, doesn't that look better?"

briefly examining the hand you raised up to his face, he chuffs and looks off to the side stubbornly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of him admitting that he liked them way better than before.

"if you really loved me, you woulda left them the way they were." he barely argues.

rolling your eyes, you peel yourself out of his hold, "it's not exactly ideal to be a living pincushion, y'know."

he remains silent, refusing to even make eye contact.

"want me to make you a sandwich?" you softly bargained, holding his rough cheeks in your hands and running your thumbs over his scales in a way you know he likes.

there's a pause, then he huffs, "with extra spicy mustard and chili flakes sprinkled on top?"

"anything for you, my king," you land a wet kiss between his bushy brows with an obnoxiously cute 'mwah!' and began moving around the kitchen in search of said ingredients.

with your back turned to him, the flustered koopa takes a peek down at his newly primped claws, flipping his hands over to fully admire your work.

a jagged, lovesick grin bumpily spreads out on his muzzle; he could get used to this.

[zeraaachan]

ANGELS CAN'T FALL - CHAINSAW MAN

pairing(s): angel devil x reader

warning(s): angst/no comfort, major character death, ooc! angel devil, manga spoilers

description: there was once a princess who woke up from a true love's kiss. but all his tale can offer is a damsel who slept eternally for a first love's peck. maybe it happened because he was no prince charming. or maybe it happened because he's the angel devil.

he never intended to meet them.

it was purely incidental. similar to a stroke of luck, or misfortune, the devil caught a glimpse of them through the small window in their hospital room. he should've walked away when he still had the chance. should've ignored his curiosity for the pale, sickly hands that fidget anxiously. he should've walked away and never come back when it was painfully obvious that they were ill and that they were no good for them. but alas, the devil in him thirsted for curiosity and interaction. he took a few steps back, peeked at the little window, and ignored aki's call excusing that he'll only be quick.

and that's how the two met: the winged and the damned.

angel devil's entrance caught the room patient's by surprise. no, he didn't do anything special like appear in front of them wings fully spread and halo shining. angel devil entered their room like a normal person, open the door then close it. but somehow they're still too surprised. they bombarded him with questions such as how the hell they made it up when they were supposed to go down. did they somehow trick heaven's list and slipped in their name? did no one up there see how unholy their search history is especially on reading platforms? they asked questions that made zero sense to the tired devil.

“okay, when did i die? did i fall from my bed accidentally when i sneezed?” they asked him, and now he can understand the reason for their surprise. a misconception, at that time. but still a foreshadowing.

“no. you're still alive.” angel devil tiredly muttered, eyes darting on each corner of their room until they landed on a particular spot. “i'm devil first, angel second. you're not exactly going to heaven if i've come to fetch you.”

“hmm makes sense. you look like a twink but you can probably dom me.”

”no, you don't understand.” he said, barely registering their words. his eyes still focused on a certain spot. “say, will you still eat that ice cream?” angel devil finally asked. his eyes still trained on the unopened can of ice cream on the table beside their hospital bed. he now realize why he was so drawn to this room. it's not them. it's the ice cream.

“nope. take it. the doctor said i'm not allowed to eat it”

and he doesn't need to be offered twice to move. with a simple word of excuse, he picked up the clean spoon near the ice cream can and the can itself with a few swift movements. he even took the liberty to sit on the hospital bed uninvited, mindful not to touch its occupant. although they don't seem to mind his presence. they're too fascinated with his wings, he noticed, he just hope they won't touch them. nor him for that matter.

“don't try to touch me. it will shorten your life span.” he warned unemotionally as a spoon of ice cream landed in his mouth. he can't really care whether they touch him. but he warned nonetheless as a gratitude for the ice cream on his hand.

he caught the way they looked at him with those curious eyes that probably never saw the outside of the hospital for weeks. it was full of questions, the devil noted. but they didn't ask anything. they just smiled at him sweetly, brightly. brighter than the fluorescent light above their head or the convenience store lights that attract his eyes to buy soft serve.

”okay. i won't" they finally said. but the angel devil knows better than to trust them. he stared at them for a good minute which they reciprocated. if he didn't turn his head away, he can bet that the patient in front of him will just continue to stare at him without blinking.

well, if they touch him, it's not his fault anymore. he thought.

“so.... do you like ice cream?” angel devil heard them ask. and that was only the beginning.

***

“so what's heaven like?”

angel devil just shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as they continue to pester him. he can't understand himself. as if one time was not enough, today he still came back to the hospital room. it's probably the ice cream on his hand. it's the only reason why he'll come back to the hospital.

“i don't know. you don't need to know. you're not going there.” he answered rapidly followed by a short 'nom'.

”well that's rude coming from someone eating my ice cream.” angel devil only hugged the ice cream bowl possessively when he sensed the change in tone. then they giggled. only a little bit and it was nothing special. but he can swear that his ice cream is not the only thing that melted a bit faster when that happened.

that small giggle did something to him. it made him stop devouring the ice cream for a moment and stare at them. it's not the first time he saw a human make a joyous sound. but it's the first time he saw it up close. it was the first time someone made that tiny laugh concerning him.

and he would've probably savored the warm feeling if they didn't try to touch him in an attempt to pet his head.

angel took a retreat before they can even touch him. eyes wide with offense and surprise that woke them up from their trance.

instead of being offended by his attitude, they grinned sheepishly.

“oops! i remember.” they chuckled, almost apologetically. “no touchies.”

he warily looked at them. like a chick afraid to be stepped on again or in his case a devil afraid to be touched. but when they held up their hands in the air, grinned, and promised they'll not do it again, he let his guard down and returned to his spot. on their hospital bed. he sat down on the patient's bed, careful not to touch them even their clothed leg as always, and settled comfortably again. it's just him, the ice cream, and them again.

“so what is hell like?” they asked a bit too energetically after a moment.

and the angel doesn't need to think twice about his answer. “it is dark.”

***

“are we close enough for me to ask you a question?” they asked one day. it's the 15th time he came back. or is it the 51st time? but it doesn't matter. their hospital bed mattress still feels the same on his bottom. the ice cream on the side of their bed is still the same flavor and still taste the same, angel can even say that the temperature is the same as always. there're still a few cobwebs in the corner of their room. some flowers. a basket of fruit. and they're still there.

for some reason, they're still in the same hospital, same hospital room, and in the same hospital bed. it's as if they always belonged there and won't be leaving anytime soon. and the angel devil doesn't know if he is comforted or bothered by that fact.

“you bombarded me with questions when we first met.” the angel answered nonchalantly, feeding himself with ice cream and not bothering to share.

”well yes, but that's different.” they elongated the last word almost into a whine. “are we close now for me to ask, you know, questions for close people.”

he merely shrugged.

”eh? is that a yes in your language?” they asked. confused but light-hearted nonetheless. it may just be angel's opinion, but every time he returns, they seem a bit brighter. like today. they have more color than yesterday. even a red on their cheeks. it looks lovely, he admits.

”well i don't know if you said yes or no but just don't answer if we're still not close. because we're open.” they laughed at their own joke. angel questioned their sanity but didn't have the time to do so when they revealed their question. ”why can't i touch you?”

he should've expected this moment. he interacted with the human far more than he expected and can imagine. there will be a sense of kinship, of closeness as they term. they should've expected their curiosity and the question.

but he still doesn't like the fact that he has to say it. he doesn't enjoy the fact that they have to look into their happier eyes and reveal an unhappy fact.

angel finished the last drops of his ice cream before he met his eyes. full of wonders. just like when they first met. just like when he first became drawn to it.

“i'll absorb the little life you have with just a touch.” he muttered. his voice void of emotion but not cold. never cold. ”i don't want to kill you.”

---

”you must be a pretty strong devil, no?”

they initiated the conversation as usual. and like any other visit, he sat on their bed which now also recognizes them as their owner. he can't remember how many times he came back already. he stopped counting when reached 100. but he never stopped eating their ice cream.

“yes.” he answered shortly.

“must be because many are afraid of angels.” they concluded in which he only nodded. “then is there a ‘hot people devil’?”

“a what?”

“a ‘hot people devil’. the type of devil that grows strong from the fear of hot people?”

“i don't know any devil like that. is there even any human who's afraid of that..?”

“how dare you...!” they gasped quite dramatically. the angel devil, who noticed the change in intonation panicked. ”how dare you invalidate my fear!”

“but i—”

“i am deathly afraid of hot people. whenever i look at my mirror i scream out of fear!”

angel's panic was short-lived when he finally realized their point. he sighed, disappointed, and picked up the spoon they dropped earlier. so much for being concerned about a human's feeling. ”funny.” he muttered, not an ounce of joy in his voice.

they just laughed and resisted the urge to slap his back. it was a habit that he noticed. they always want to slap something whenever they laugh. angel doesn't know if he's more afraid of them accidentally touching him due to this habit or if he's more afraid of being slapped. he decided to eat soft serve ice cream instead.

after their laughter died down, they wiped the corner of their eye and angel is once again ready for another antic of theirs. except now, it's different.

”is there a love devil?” they asked, their tone a bit too serious for a joke. ”many people are afraid of love and being in love. many are afraid of losing their loved ones. is there a love devil, enjeru?”

it's the first time they called him, he noted. ”i'm not sure.” he answered which is rewarded by a smile.

“well it doesn't matter. because i, for one, isn't afraid of love.” they vowed confidently. a voice full of pride and certainty. and maybe because of their goofy tone, the devil was caught off guard by their next words. “but you, angel devil, must not make the love devil stronger.”

he wants to say something. anything. he's sensing the conversation going to a path he doesn't mean to take. he never meant to step in that territory.

but he can't stop them. he can't stop the next words that came out from them. especially when they look at him with a gaze full of conviction and sincerity.

“don't be afraid to fall in love with me, enjeru.” they answered sincerely. “because i don't plan on making a love devil stronger.

i love you.”

that's when the angel devil realized that he entered the path of no return.

---

“why do you always have an ice cream when you can't even eat it?”

today is different. he'll be the one starting the conversation instead. the angel devil, for once, is starting the conversation between the winged and the damned. and he must admit, he's pretty horrible at it. but at least he didn't start with ‘how's the weather?’

“hmm... maybe because i expected a winged devil to enter my humble hospital room one day?” they answered cheekily, finger on their chin as they fake to think. ”what do you call it again? fate?”

angel devil merely stared at them and completely forgot about the conversation that strayed to a different direction. for the numerous times he visited, there are many moments where he'll just stare at them absentmindedly as they seem to sparkle whenever they talk. it's amazing honestly. especially as how it sometimes feels that he's viewing them on a glitter and sparkle filter. and maybe due to that particular filter, it made them ache to touch them.

”sometimes i wonder if i'll feel something when we touch.” angel murmured in his drunk state. unaware of his words until it finally hit him. of all the foolish things he can say, he picked the one that top it all. ”ignore it. i don't mean it—”

“then why don't we?”

if the angel devil was still capable of rage, he would've surely felt it. it angers him, just the thought of it, that they'll even think about something so foolish when they know the heavy weight of it. he's quite the hypocrite when he thinks this way, but he knows better.

“i'd rather stare at you every day than touch you once and never have that every day again.” he confessed. eyes more tired than usual.

that day, the ice cream on their bedside was left half-eaten.

---

it was quiet in the patient's room after that conversation. there was no sign of huge white wings in the small space of the hospital room. the ice cream tub remained on the table, untouched until it melted. but it doesn't matter. it will always be replaced tomorrow. but like the day before, no one came to eat it.

the room returned to being a lonely typical hospital room. with one lone occupant. alone, sick, and always staring out the window on their door.

until that door swung open.

and revealed a doctor in a white coat.

---

“you didn't come back for two weeks. i was obliged to dispose of 14 ice creams.”

“sorry.”

it was funny how it was the first thing the angel devil said when they met again after weeks of not seeing each other. it's not that they're not busy. they were. but despite that they always find the time to visit them before and claim dibs on the ice cream that is always on the table beside their bed. he just took his sweet time gathering his thoughts this time. and it was a mess.

”i made some thinking.” he confessed, eyes on them. ”they're about you.”

”i'll be jealous if they're not.”

angel ignored their small quip. ”i realized i'm happy with just eating that ice cream over there.” he stated and looked at their table. even pointed the single tub of ice cream.

it was pretty horrible of him to bring up ice cream when the mood is not really one for eating. but he can only hope that he knows what he is doing. he can only hope that they know what he is doing.

the devil was not sure if he conveyed himself properly. if he conveyed his thoughts properly. he's not sure if they understood that they're putting a wall between them but at the same time letting them enter his untouchable life. he's not sure if they understood that he's telling them that he wants what they want, that they want them the same, but there are limits.

he wants to know if they understand that it would've worked if only he was not him. if he's not the angel devil.

but surely they understood. for they offered him that gracious smile once more and gestured the tin near the bed. “oh hush. just eat this stuff.” they commanded in a jovial tone. ”i know you only come back for this.”

---

maybe he was too happy that he forgot a little bit of everything. maybe the angel was on clouds that he forgot many circumstances. he forgot his own demons. their demons. he was too relaxed, happy and satisfied, that he forgot some circumstances. and how he wish he didn't.

“do you wanna beat the system?” they lightly joked and looked up to him with bright eyes that spent years staring at a hospital's ceiling. for some reason there are two cans of ice cream today. one for him, which is already on its last scoops; and one for them that rests on their lap, still almost full. angel plans on asking for their share once he's finished with his.

but he have to listen to them first. “what system?”

“do you wanna beat the system?” they repeated. smile full of jokes but eyes clear and serious. ”your whole ‘we touch, i deduct years from your life’ situation.”

angel remained silent and didn't say anything. he can feel that something is off aside from the two tubs of ice cream.

and there must be something extremely wrong. his heart is pounding to the extremes. the bowl of ice cream on his hands is a bit colder than usual yet his palms are still sweating.

and then he heard it.

“i'm dying.” they said as if to curse him. a curse he should've expected. a curse that he put on himself when he walked to their hospital room for the first time. “a month from now. or maybe a few weeks. or maybe even tomorrow. i won't last that long.” they continued. their eyes avoided his and the emotions swirling in them. “so i thought, why not make it today.”

”let's talk about other things.” angel can already see the direction of the conversation. and he wishes to avoid it.

however, they only smiled at him and returned their gaze. now they're the ones who ignored them. “i want to feel if your hands are warm, angel. or if they're cold from the number of bowls of ice cream that you held.”

he was speechless. it's been so long since he felt something like this. since he felt something this humane. and of all the things that he can feel again, why is it this certain emotion. why must it be betrayal and sadness. even regret.

“i'll come back tomorrow.” the angel devil said and prepared to leave. his bowl still has a few scoops of ice cream left.

it was cowardly, he admit. he's such a coward for running away in this situation. for not facing it when he should've known what he is dealing with when he chose to eat ice cream with them and sit on their bed. he should've been prepared to face this when he came back time and time again to see them.

”how can you be sure that i'll still be here tomorrow?” they asked the question he feared.

but like a coward, he decided to turn his back on his fear. on them.

”i'll come back tomorrow.” he repeated and closed the door to their hospital room.

---

the last time he entered their hospital room, they were not alone. the door swinged open just as he was about to turn their knob. it's their doctor. like usual, she have a forlorn look on her face. and angel can't help but look over them. they haven't noticed them yet and maybe that's why there was a bothered look on their face.

“what did your doctor said?” he asked and picked the ice cream on the table. the same ice cream that by each time he returns get blander and colder.

they just smiled at him. it was a sad one.

“i have until tomorrow.”

the angel devil was right in his decision to just hold the ice cream tub in their hand and not open it. it was funny. because he cannot blame anyone but himself for his situation.

“won't you kiss me goodbye, angel?” they added, the sad tone of their voice being an octave lower.

but he can only wallow in self-pity and hate. it was his choice. from day one, he was the one who choose to take a step back, peek and enter their hospital room. right from the start, they were the ones who turned the old door knob to the room. they choose to open the 58th hospital room, their hospital room. and he opened himself to the possibility of being hurt. but he didn't brace himself for it. all he did was fall deeper and deeper for a human that is not even healthy. to someone who seems as if the last time they saw the sun outside was last year. it was his choice to enter their room. it was his choice to sit in their bed. it was choice choice to hurt himself and them.

they were his choice. he choose them.

and he also chooses to eat the bowl of ice cream on his hands in their current situation. he chooses to scoop a spoonful of soft serve into his mouth mechanically. he can barely register its taste. he can barely recognize the ice cream's flavor. but he made sure that it left a mark on his tongue. it might be his last after all.

a smile graced their lips, probably the last they'll ever see, and angel etched it on his memory. “right. you loved ice cream.”

he can see them resist the urge to cradle his head and comb his hair. he can understand them. since for all the times they are together, they kept their word of not touching them. they never touched them even once. just as how he resisted to just fall on his knees and drop his tired body on them. they both resisted the thing that they both wanted.

the angel devil was first a devil, an angel second. and the devil in him finally made a decision.

”do you only have until tomorrow?” he confirmed, tongue still coated with ice cream.

“yes.”

“and do you still want to know whether my hands are warm, just like how you made me feel? or if it is cold, just as how i feel right now?” he added. “do you still want to part with me with just a shallow kiss?”

”yes.” they answered, head still relaxed on their pillow and back on their comfortable hospital mattress. they've been laying down since the time they told him they were dying.

the angel devil asked his final question. one he'll always remember. and one he never got an answer.

“do you know how soft serve ice cream tastes like?”

his cold hands met the warm flesh of their cheeks and his own eyes witnessed how their eyes widened with surprise. is it due to the temperature of his palm? or his palm itself? angel can never be sure. he never got the confirmation. but he saw how their cheeks became painted with different shades of red and how their eyes locked on his, with certainty and conviction. they're not one to back out. they have nothing to return to from this point on.

as he caress their face, he's also taking the last of their life.

with one dip of his head, the angel devil landed his lips on the human damned to a hospital bed. of the human he only saw through a small door window before, fidgeting with their hands anxiously as they stitch an angel rag doll.

it was warm. angel finally realized what he is missing in all those times. their cheeks are warm. so is their forehead were his own forehead rest. and their lips. it welcomed him warmly. the same warmth that they made them feel. even warmer.

angel doesn't have to say the word. they slightly parted their lips and invited his tongue inside to explore the mouth that laughed when he lazily lick his ice cream. angel's tongue probed the same mouth that told him daring words and sweet nothings, his everything(s). he passionately kissed the lips that dared him to do the last thing he thought he'll do to the person he love: to touch and to let them go. it's ironic how much he wants to touch them yet can not. it's ironic how much he held back just for this moment.

angel is not sure whether they tasted the remnants of ice cream still on his tongue. or whether they felt the warmth that they so desired. or if it was the opposite.

but the healing dying kiss was different from the cold soft-serve ice cream that is always on the table beside their hospital bed. everything about them and their lips is warm and comforting. and he wants to bask in it. he wants to bathe in the sunlight that they provide in the four corners of the enclosed hospital room. angel finally realized how it feels to hold the sun and the stars. but even the sun can lose its rays. even the stars can lose their light. the sun can be destroyed and stars always die leaving a cold black hole in its wake. summer can easily become winter in the blink of an eye. and like all the warm things in the world, it became chilly. he can feel their lips slowly lose their warmth.

until all that was left was cold.

END.

”what happened to the patient that you always visited? in room 58?”

“they left.”

a small nod was made by aki who cannot see the sullen look on the angel devil's face. the fine man in suit added. “about time. they were supposed to be discharged weeks ago. why are you surprised? you didn't know?”

author's note(s): it's been a year since i last read the manga and i haven't started the anime yet but i just realized the angst potential of my favorite chainsaw man character, angel devil. expect to see more contents like this soon. bye bye~

[iwonderwh0]

Tag suggestion for non-romantic non-familial context of Hank&Connor

Okay, after searching different variations of platonic tags and what shows up in tumblr results, I came to the conclusion that

#platonicHankcon

nevermind, let's think of a better name

Link to the new post

(as one word, otherwise tumblr will show you posts that are just a hellhole of discourses)

is the most optimal one to mark posts that aren't romantic nor familial. It's a bit cheesy one, but at least it's intuitive and short enough.

The purpose of this tag is to create a space for appreciation of, as the name says, just platonic interpretation of these two*, which means

These two are not kissing/doing anything that is unambiguously romantic

Hank DOESN'T view this android as his son or vice versa, not even a hint of that

Connor is not naive little kid in their dynamic

* - which in current state is dissolved between different tags and is ultimately unsearchable, which is exactly the problem I hope to solve here

It has a ship in its name, but it's just a convenient way to shorten character duos even in non-ship context, and if anyone hates the name of the ship to the point of it being a deal-breaker...well, suggest a better alternative then.

As far as I can see, currently there are no posts under this tag, or Tumblr search engine just isn't showing them to me, so I see it as a good sign to claim it for this purposes

I'll be using it (I'll go through my posts and edit suitable ones to include the tag), and I'll be happy if those who like just platonic interpretation of these two would adapt to use it as well

This way it may become possible to finally curate a space of appreciation between currently existing two extremes that some of us wished to have (which includes me and at least three more people)

5 years after the game was released, yes

Better late than never

[mari-lair]

What do you think will happen to Akane when No 1.‘s yorishiro is destroyed (because story wise it probably will be.)

Once they lose their seat as a school mystery, will Akane not be a part of them anymore? And if so, what will happen to him. I think that the best case scenario is that he will lose his powers but still be able to see supernaturals. The worst case scenario is that his memory of anything supernatural is wiped but I’m really hoping that doesn’t happen.

(I think about this more than I should)

I feel ya! I too think way too hard about Akane’s situation.

The best case scenario to me is that Akane gets the same treatment as the other mysteries that lost their yorishiro and he mostly became weaker. The six years of his contract aren’t over after all, he may lose his seat but not his connection to the clock keepers, the only change is that the clock keeper's boundary is gone and maybe instead of 15 minutes per day, he can only stop time 5 or 1 minute per day.

Cause those that lost their yorishiro aren’t completely disconnected from their school mystery powers (Tsuchi still has access to the books after the library is gone. Yako knows how to find portals. And Mei created something magical in the new chapter for Sakura. )

But since there are three clock keepers, and Akane is only half supernatural, it’s hard to know what would happen... Him losing his powers cause he is the weaker link of the keepers, and there could not be enough power remaining in their rumor to sustain his pocket watch, or something of sorts, but this lost connection not nullifying his ability to see supernaturals, similar to Aoi after her rescue, would be cool. I like your best case a lot.

His memory of anything supernatural being wiped out fuck me up for many reasons but I want to believe it won’t happen both because Aoi got back from the near shore still seeing supernaturals, and cause Teru, a competent exorcist, may have ways to protect his memory from any possible curse.

Now a bit of insanity time: The worst case to me is that Akane should have been dead before the manga even started.

 Akane is a normal boy, he isn’t related to exorcism or sacrifices or anything supernatural. Just like Nene he couldn’t even see them for all his life and only had manual labor to offer when they made a contract.

But this normal boy ‘suddenly’ starts seeing the clock keepers the moment they had everything set up to put their recruiting plan into action.

I can’t say with any confidence they shortened Akane’s lifespan, but I do find it very convenient that the supernaturals whose rumors involve stealing people’s time had Akane able to see them when they needed him to see them.

So I have this theory he is a walking corpse.

He could see the clock keepers at 12, and he is already 15, so if we compare his situation to Nene’s (who has one year to live since being involved with supernaturals, and is the only other human with a supernatural contract) he would be two years past his expiration date. The only thing keeping him alive at the moment is his contract with Mirai and Kako, once the contract is over he is dead, and the destruction of the clock keeper's yorishiro would accelerate his death or null the contract completely and kill him right away.

It would also add another layer as to why Hanako is so fascinated by Akane, and why Mei told Yashiro to seek the clock keepers to help with her lifespam, but instead of showing the three keepers, like usual, it just shows akane. Akane in his two forms.

Him having two bodies (one that is supernatural and invisible to students, so technically, a ‘dead’ body) is already very strange, and if anyone can twist the laws of fate to give someone more time in this manga, it would be the clock keepers.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Ladies Whistledown - chapter four

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington Rating: T Chapter: 4 / ? Word Count: 2322

read on tumblr: one | two | three

To witness the formerly affianced Prudence find herself suddenly without a fiancé was akin, Penelope guessed, to watching a confused bird. Like a bird, Prudence was adorned in her typical bright, mama-approved plumage, but she darted and strutted and skittered about the house, squawking out inane questions and comments in such a way that made it exceedingly difficult for Penelope to read the novel her turbulent thoughts were already making it challenging to concentrate on.

Seat yourself and be still, Penelope wanted to tell her, but nobody ever listened to Penelope, and so she herself sat quietly, and was still. Only her eyes tracked Prudence’s bobbing, swivelling head. The poor bird whose mate had flown away in the night. Part of Penelope did feel for her sister; she felt it must have been a terrible thing to believe oneself prized only to be left without a single word of explanation or comfort. Their mama had many words for Prudence, but none were the right ones. Penelope doubted any of them were even true. For herself, she believed, in such a circumstance, she would have preferred the truth over a well-meaning coddling. The truth was more soothing in the end.

It had not been love, and Penelope was certain Prudence would cease her restless movements when she remembered that. Cousin Jack had not loved her—possibly would never have loved her—and so it was better that Prudence escape a bad match to preserve the possibility of being loved in the future. To be loved, completely and for oneself exactly as one was… well, Penelope cherished a belief that this was possible. She believed it despite watching young women lose hope after too many seasons out, despite overhearing men discuss them as the means to producing heirs and appeasing their mamas, despite matches of convenience being the rule rather than the exception. Being Lady Whistledown, placing herself in such a position, ought to have made Penelope, if anything, a cynic. And yet hope flourished within her, a nest cradling the heart that believed love was real.

In the wider nest of their home, Prudence collapsed onto the chaise with all the grace of a fledgling’s first descent. Penelope could feel her sister staring at her. When she flicked her gaze from the unread page of her book to meet her eye, Prudence let her mouth sag into a pout.

“Mama has sent Varley to the Modiste to cancel everything ordered for my trousseau.”

“Well,” Penelope said slowly, trying to be patient, “you are no longer getting married.”

“That should not matter! I should still have found occasion to wear the dresses.” Prudence sunk further into the chaise as she sulked.

“With the money saved, I am sure we will both have more new dresses at the start of the next season, when mama will select whatever will be… most fashionable.” She would, Penelope supposed, when it came to things like the shape of the sleeve or the placement of an embellishment, but Penelope would have bet the Queen’s jewels that her particular gowns would still be yellow.

“I suppose…” Prudence tentatively allowed. Then she sighed. “I despise saving money.”

Penelope could not help the volume of her laugh, but she lifted a hand to her mouth to aid in shortening its duration. Her sister scowled at her reaction.

“It is dreadful!” Prudence said defensively. “I hate the word ‘frugal’ more than any other! I should never have liked to be called a ‘frugal wife’—it sounds horrid.”

“You must congratulate yourself, then,” Penelope rejoined (rather flippantly), “on escaping both parts of the title.”

Prudence scoffed and planted her hands on the cushion to shove herself upright. This was a tactic with which Penelope had become accustomed in childhood; her sisters had often used height as a substitute for being correct. They had made themselves big and spoken down to her. Once Penelope had understood how this worked, she had stopped finding it intimidating. She gave her sister a bland look.

“At least I have been engaged!” Prudence announced haughtily.

“And you haven’t so much as a trousseau to show for it,” Penelope muttered.

Prudence had heard, but her habitual, quotidian quarrel with her sister lived a short life in the shadow of her broken engagement.

“Cousin Jack should’ve paid for it before he ran off.”

“He clearly is not any better with money that you would have been as his wife,” Penelope pointed out. She then condescended to translate, “You would not have been in fine dresses long once you had married him.”

“Hmm.” Prudence considered this and played with her bottom lip. “I wish I had my own money with which to practice.”

Penelope could not think of a response right away as this was a surprisingly reasonable wish from her sister. She certainly would not be volunteering her own hidden funds so that Prudence might learn restraint while purchasing glittering hair accessories, but she was proud of her sister’s self-knowledge and clarity of thought. It made Penelope feel suddenly warm towards her. She reached out a hand to cover Prudence’s on the cushion.

Prudence snatched her hand away, making a face.

“Do not touch me! You will make my hands smell of books!”

Before Penelope could question this baffling criticism, Prudence flung herself upright and left the room.

Surreptitiously, Penelope raised her hand, touching the back of her fingers to the underside of her nose. She inhaled. She frowned. Was there a trace? If there were, she could comprehend how Prudence would attribute it to the novels which were her constant companion while at home and observed. More likely though, Penelope believed the scent of paper and ink emanated from her nightly writings, her fingering of pages, a stray drop from her quill, besides anything she might have touched at the printer’s, or even on an errand like buying a replacement letter for the press. If these scents clung to her still—though she had not been to Chancery Lane, though waiting on Eloise stayed her hand—it made Penelope wonder whether they would ever leave. Perhaps, she thought, writing became her so well that it had become her, something others could smell on her skin. Something that could be contracted, like an illness.

Penelope sat with downcast eyes. Surely not an illness. Yes, she had written words that had done harm, but to think them an illness meant she was the one who was ill, not the ton. Was this what Eloise thought? That Penelope was undergoing some sort of moral sickening? That the time to save her had passed, and so she must simply be given up as lost?

She would not be easy until she and Eloise had spoken again. If Eloise allowed it. If she came, since Penelope found even the thought of crossing the road again unless invited entirely impossible.

Until then, she had other people’s words, printed on other printers’ paper in long-dried ink. And she had Prudence. As trying as that sometimes was.

She did not know whether life would have been more tolerable had Cousin Jack whisked Prudence away to America, but Penelope was relieved that the household’s proper hierarchy had been reestablished by his exit. Her mama was back at the helm—or, rather, fluffing her feathers atop the nest—and at least that was predictable. With their family the object of the ton’s sympathy after the departure of their scheming relation, Penelope supposed she would look back a year hence to see that the Featherington Ball had marked their return into good society’s good graces. So, no doubt, her mama would invite people to dine, and receive, in turn, invitations for them to dine out. She would smilingly repair frayed connections and, robust with charm and cunning, suss out which other mamas’ sons may be surrendering themselves to parental pressure and entering the marriage mart next year.

Penelope did wonder, after the turbulent start to the season just gone, how they were to attempt to pay for it all, all over again. Their supposed saviour of a cousin had only playacted wealth, but without him, they had less than a façade. And yet she watched her mama—watched her sweep in and out of the drawing room with a command for Penelope to put that book away swiftly smoothed over with a smile, watched her lead Varley into the office that had been her papa’s, then Cousin Jack’s, watched her order a good dinner—and knew there was something she had missed, some information that had not been revealed to her. She did not expect it ever would be intentionally, so Penelope kept her eyes open all day and all through their evening meal, and tried to see what had made her mama suddenly so comfortable about their finances.

Their finances, Penelope well knew, were something she was not meant to give the slightest thought to. As an unmarried young lady, her purview was restricted to ways of getting her dance card filled and practicing the embroidery of flowers on scraps of silk. She felt she was practically meant to be bored, for if she was bored, she was safe. Things like finances would come later, after marriage, and they were not to be understood or controlled, merely accepted as another field upon which she, as a wife, would be expected to concede to her husband. This had not bothered Penelope. It had not bothered her until she had begun to notice her papa’s dejection, the strain between he and her mama, the shop credit that went on and on and on until it did not.

She had made her own money, and that had been the reason; and yet, the more confidently she relied upon herself, the further she found herself to be from those she wished to make comfortable. It was not that Penelope wished to pay—it was the stability such a possibility represented. She could be counted upon. She could be trusted. When Eloise had discovered her and criticized and railed, she had left Penelope’s money where she had found it. Penelope had almost craved its removal for the mercenary colours in which it painted her. All the words she had written, all the ways in which she had tried to protect herself, her family, her Eloise, and Eloise had seen the money and decided it was all so simple. So very, pitiably simple.

This pity, combined with the accusation that Penelope had done all that she had done for money, had driven Penelope to her quill and paper. She would never have believed Eloise capable of looking down her nose at her the way she had. They had thought the worst of each other then. Eloise was prosperous and privileged, raised up and away from the scene before she had even left Penelope’s bedchamber. Penelope was the grasping Featherington, forever dancing on the edge of ruin in shoes that could not be paid for. She could only hope, now, at a distance of a day and a street, that Eloise saw more. That money was her freedom, that it was a byproduct of using her voice, not payment to silence it.

But what good was a voice when the one you most wanted to hear you refused to listen?

Penelope went to bed that night and rose the next morning. She did it again… and again, and in between, she sat by the drawing room window and looked for the fluttering pastels of Bridgertons coming or going.

Finally, four days after she had left the pages with Eloise, Penelope heard news of their neighbours. There was to be a wedding. Her mama had heard of it from Lady Cowper at tea. (Lady Cowper was carefully realigning her position after the Queen had overheard her cutting speculations on the perimeter of the Featherington’s dance floor; the Featheringtons were considered currently in favour as the ball had been such a success.) Lady Cowper had it from her housekeeper, who had it from one of their maids, who had it from one of the Bridgertons’ maids, and it was as good as confirmed, the invitations as good as sent. Anthony Bridgerton would wed Kathani Sharma. The Viscount’s proposal was alleged to have taken place at their ball, beneath their very noses. When their mama informed them, Prudence’s shoulders sunk and she pouted, deeming it unfair that another engagement should be formed the very night hers had been broken.

What struck Penelope as unfair was the fact that her work as Lady Whistledown was suspended in limbo just as this opportunity to break the news of an exciting—nearly scandalous—engagement to the larger ton was dropped in her lap. Not that she would have portrayed it as a scandalous happening. She did not wish to injure Anthony or Kate or Edwina or Eloise. It was merely news, substantial news, and news was her trade. It was difficult for Penelope to do nothing, to say nothing. She knew that when word of the engagement spread without her, readers would look for Whistledown’s comment on the matter. They would feel a veritable itch in their fingers to flip open the pamphlet and cast their eyes over their gossipmonger’s spirited remarks. In many ways, she had been teaching them what to think, how to feel, for which questions they still ought to hunger for answers. They wished to be on the right side of public opinion, to think what it was popular to think, to not get it wrong. What Penelope wished was to not be forgotten. With her creation, she had not only expressed public opinion, she had dictated it. She had been it. Now, she was a girl who sat alone all day in a drawing room.

Thankfully, terrifyingly, on that fourth day, a visitor was announced, and Penelope rose as though for royalty when Eloise walked into the room.

[superfluffychickens]

After having her for a few days, I’m completely enamored with my new doggie - her name is Treasure and she responds to it well, but I might shorten it to Tess - but, it hasn’t been easy for either of us. She’s just bursting with love and desire for affection, but either she’s so overwhelmed in a new environment that she’s forgetting her training, or she was pretty untrained to begin with. It’s like she just doesn’t really get the “rules” of being a pet dog and interacting with humans. And I think she got used to being a mostly-outdoor dog.

She gets really mouthy when she’s feeling playful and has torn through a lot of her toys as well as my weighted blanket - what a mess, beads everywhere! She pulls hard on the leash, I’m gonna buy her a harness instead of a collar (the rescue told me to get her a martingale collar but she’s choking herself on it) to see if that helps. And, she’s had several accidents in the house. So I’m contacting local trainers to get her in for obedience training, there’s actually a dog trainer really close to where I live which would be really convenient, and I’ll take her for lessons ASAP.

For now, she actually does do some things really well, and has responded to assertive “no!” and being ignored. She’s even good off-leash, doesn’t stray too far and comes when called. She gets along well with the dog I’ve been dogsitting (my parents are watching her), and is usually really good in her crate. And she’s curious about the chickens but doesn’t seem inclined to chase anything - she won’t even chase a tennis ball because it means leaving my side!

Thinking about it with a clear head it’s really pretty obvious why she’d act this way. I contacted her first foster to tell her I’ve adopted her, and the foster was ecstatic! Apparently, Tess was found scrounging for food in a dumpster in Alabama, with no fur from nasty skin issues. She’s 7 and only just got spayed this January, and she’s got swollen nipples so I’m sure she’s had puppies before, if she was a stray probably more than once. Her ears are all torn up, and she had heartworm when they found her. Her old foster had her for 8 months, nursing her back to health, and said it took 4 months for Tess to become comfortable with her. But she definitely touched the foster’s heart, even after 10 years of fostering she said Tess was something special. The whole community got together to help her, and Tess came with a huge bag of toys, treats, and sweaters/coats that had been donated just for her.

Then in early May she was shuttled off to a foster in Vermont, a very nice old man took her in but it seems he kind of just let her run loose with his other fosters and be a farm dog. He didn’t correct her when she jumped on him, he seemed like he adored her but might have been too permissive since he was busy with lots of other stuff. I can’t criticize him though, I’m a pushover and I’m sure that’s not helping. I’ve always been bad at boundaries, with animals and people. Treasure and I have a lot in common I think, we both just want to be loved but get confused about the Rules of Society™️. So I’ll stick by her, believe in her, and help her out as best as I can, treat her the way I wish I would be treated lol.

My dad gave me a good pep talk yesterday, telling me that I need to be more assertive and not to let her be rough with me. My dad’s been a big help - I think it’s actually that he wants a dog himself, but probably won’t get one himself since my little nephew is allergic and visits often. But he says once she has better leash manners he’ll walk her for me if necessary, and my mom will help too. We’ll set up an invisible fence for her eventually so she can run around outside more safely, but I think for now as long as I’m watching her she’s okay to run off leash to get out some of her energy and jitters. Right now, she’s sleeping soundly next to me on the bed, listening to the rain falling. We’ll work this out together. She’s really a good dog, no aggression, fear, or anything like that. She just has Big (Happy) Feelings and doesn’t know how to let them out in a healthy and safe way. And she’s been through so much, it’s a testament to her character (and the hard work of her fosters) that she’s so willing to love people.

But if anyone here has experience with dogs or dog training, or helpful tips or anything, I’d love to hear it! I’m a beginner with dogs too, I know how this stuff works in theory but in practice it sometimes feels overwhelming for me.

[misc-obeyme]

I'm going on a tangent because i thought of silly things, I think I might try writing the next part tonight after work. This probably takes place way before what's currently going on in my rambles.

I'm imagining I impulsively bought something online and had to cut down on coffee (what did I buy? Who knows. Probably concert tickets for fob. I was scraping by when I bought those tickets last year 💀). I think it'd take Mammon two weeks before he finally caves and texts to ask if I'm okay. I sheepishly explain my purchase and why I haven't been around, and get left on read.

Later in the day, Mammon shows up to the shop with a coffee and a box of various pastries. He's blushing hard as he shoves the box towards me but gently sets the coffee down. I'm completely puzzled, and it's the first time Mammon has ever set foot in my shop. He goes on to ramble that he wasn't worried or anything, just had some leftovers and decided they should be able to tide me over and make up for lost orders.

The longest I've ever gone without stopping in is a week when I went on vacation maybe in the summer to visit family? But I had let him know ahead of time. And the other time was four days, and I texted him "i promkse ill wakenip ealry timorrow" and it was sent at 3 am, typed exactly like that. He texted back "ya better be asleep by now. Dumbass. Not like i miss ya or anything either." He replied back after 5:30 ish when getting up for the day. I did keep my promise and showed up, even if I definitely looked out of it.

That was supposed to be a silly scenario but now I'm thinking of the actual concert date taking place after they start realizing their feelings for each other (the cutting back scene was during the presale). And them getting worried about me going alone. But ticket prices are insane the closer to the date since I originally bought mine during the presale, and the seat I snagged managed to be on the floor. So even if they wanted to join, they'd have to shell out a lot of money, and wouldn't be sat next to me.

Unless ....... Mammon had an older brother, who was working for someone else.... who was the ceo of a company, and said company was sponsoring the tour.....and could get them front row seats together...... Only in fiction can things work out like this !! 🤣 Imagine your first concert also being a date. Crazy.

also thinking about nicknames. The most common one is 'treasure' from Mammon, and I usually use that for my character. Maybe 'lucky charm' for solomon? as long as it is, it's cute. I gotta brainstorm

- ✨ anon

OHHHHH but I love Mams being all cute and blushy and bringing you pastries! Absolutely adorable! And that text... not like I miss ya or anything!! Yeah yeah, you keep tellin yourself that buddy!! LOL.

Concert date concert date!!! I am all about it lol!

Isn't it amazing how convenient things can be in fiction?? Listen, it's not like it'd never happen irl! People always complain about how things seem to "work out" just right in fiction, but yo. That happens in real life too, friends. Just nobody's complaining about it because there is no Almighty Author pulling the strings!

Anyway, slight tangent there but the point is I say it's perfect!!

I think "lucky charm" is cute! Maybe it sometimes gets shortened to just "lucky" I think that's cute, too! Ahh nicknames make me soft lol!

[creachureboy]

Random SFW alphabet letters for Vasily/reader and Saichi/reader

I just wanted an excuse to write them thank you very much. Also the last one for Vasily's sounds suggestive but I think it still counts as SFW

Saichi

Fight - How would arguements with him be like? Would he be quick to forgive?

If anything, the last thing he wants is to be upset at you. He's the biggest sweetheart, and the closest you ever get to arguements are disagreements you both are able to resolve with a bit of talking. The one time you both truly argued was when he was being controlling, but it ended up being because he was just really worried for you and was only acting in such a way because he thought it was in your best interest. But once you both heard each others' sides of the story, all was forgiven as you talked and hugged it out.

Love language - How does he express his love?

His main love languages are probably acts of service and words of affirmation. If there's ever any task you need even the tiniest amount of help with, saichi will be throwing himself at it to help you in a heartbeat. He really enjoys giving you kind words too, as if he's telling you all the things he wish he would hear towards himself. He absolutely melts when you reassure him with your words, as it's proving all of his self-doubt wrong.

Pet names - What cute nicknames does he like to call you? How does he respond to petnames?

Affection-starved sweetie probably is unfamiliar with being called petnames, so you'd have to be the one calling him by them first. He starts off flustered by them, but after a while responds to them just fine. He likes that you have a special nickname for him that you don't call anyone else, it makes him feel important. He tried coming up with nicknames for you by asking himself "what's something I like that I can compare you to?" and suddenly you're now a bunch of different kinds of food. He usually just copies the names you give him, and if you tell him which petnames you like being called the most, he'll definitely call you those. Saichi's too embarassed to use them while others are around, but if its just you and him, you'll hear them in practically every other sentence.

Vasily

Fight - What would arguements with him be like? Would he be quick to forgive?

Vasily is the type to never raise his voice no matter how frustrated he gets. He always talks calmly to you and keeps anything hurtful that comes to mind to himself - he wouldn't say them, he knows he doesn't truly mean them. But sometimes his annoyance may slip through, whether its through giving you the cold shoulder or handling his equipment a little too roughly. But he always recognizes when he needs some time to cool off, and would distance himself from you until he calms down so you can talk it out. He doesn't like being upset at you, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings on accident.

Kisses - How does he like to kiss you? How is he with recieving kisses?

He likes to kiss you wherever is convenient in that moment. If your hand is on his cheek, he will kiss your hand. If you're nestled in his arms, he'll kiss the top of your head. If he's resting his head on your lap, he'll stick his head under your shirt and kiss your stomach. He enjoys when you do this same thing for him too. Of course, he loves to kiss you on your lips, but he would never limit himself to just kissing you there.

Pet names - What cute nicknames does he like to call you? How does he respond to petnames?

Oh mygod he calls you the most romantic sounding stuff. He'll call you his sunshine, his angel, the love of his life. If your name has multiple syllables, he likes to call you a shortened version of it. Sometimes he comes up with something new, and its really a coinflip if it sounds poetic (ie calling you his guiding moonlight) or if it sounds Hmmm (ie calling you his sweet cream pie).

[b1adie]

Hi there Adri, I hope you have a good day!

So I saw that total cutie Blade on tiktok and looked up his lore on Wikipedia but it's completely confusing to me, I know basics of hsr lore like mara or aeons cause my roommate rambles about it 24/7 but I don't play this game yet and roommate doesn't care about Blade so they ignore all his voicelines etc...

Came to tumblr to find out more and I saw your blog in tag + in your faq you stated you don't mind lore questions...

So please ignore it if you don't want to answear but could you explain to me Blade's lore more or less?

I'm so sorry if I came out as pushy, I know it's probably a complicated lore and a lot to write about but even watching cutscenes on yt didn't make anything clearer while I feel like this guy could make me play hsr... Sorry for anon, I'm a bit shy.

no prob, i’ll try and explain his story as simply as possible!! and.. add a tldr cuz i know im gonna yap

im sorry the tldr got long too. here.

TLDR was TL, DR: craftsman/blacksmith human named yingxing that became cursed with immortality while participating in a fucked up resurrection ritual for one of his friends. was killed thousands of times til he became mara struck and forgot his past human life. got picked up by the stellaron hunters cuz their leader apparently knows a way to permanently kill him and he wants to die so bad. he didnt know his name but he has a cool sword so they call him bladie. he’s old and he apparently has a valid drivers license and obeys traffic laws but he cant play video games because he keeps stabbing himself in the hand.

iffff you have any further questions you can ask ^_^

TLDR; he was. regular human who was taken to the xianzhou as a child after abominations of abundance destroyed his home world. he picked the name yingxing there. he grew up to be a master craftsman and was incredibly skilled and confident, even considered arrogant. since he was a short life species on a ship of people who would live like 700 years longer than him on avg, they found him lame and annoying, but he was better than all of them at making shit so they had to give him the title of Furnace Master cuz he won it. then at some point he became a member of the high cloud quintet, made up of him and 4 friends (jing yuan, jingliu, dan heng’s past incarnation dan feng, and a foxian girl named baiheng). they fought abominations together and were considered legendary and told about in stories. but, baiheng was killed in battle, and dan feng wanted to revive her. he asked yingxing to help him. the revival went wrong and turned baiheng’s remains into a fucked up beast and also cursed yingxing with immortality. jingliu had to put the baiheng monster down, but she loved baiheng so much and having to be the one to kill her mutated corpse like this drove her to become mara struck. she killed yingxing with the sword he made for her, and then again, and again, killing him thousands of times, until he too became mara struck and forgot his life as yingxing entirely. then the stellaron hunters found his miserable ass in the woods somewhwre and said hey grandpa come with us and we’ll kill you for good. and he was like damn okay if you promise. he didnt know his own name and said he would be more use to them as a weapon than a Person, so kafka started calling him bladie and he didnt object so now he’s called blade. he doesn’t think of that as his name though, he still refers to himself as “the unnamed.” but like, he’ll answer to it out of convenience i guess.

OKAY NOT SHORTENED VERSON.

he was born a regular human on a planet that was soon taken over by the borisin (basically immortal space wolves that brutally kill humans). he was the only survivor of his family and sitll a child. he was taken to the xianzhou zhuming and taken under the wing of their arbiter general, huaiyan. (so like, basically the jing yuan of that ship). he took on the name Yingxing there. he became an apprentice craftsman because the xianzhou is very well known for its forging and craftsmanship. he was always generally overlooked or sneered at due to being a short-life species, which of course meant he could never accomplish as much as any of the long-lived xianzhou people. he was wildly ambitious, though, often described as proud and arrogant, mentioned to have stayed awake for days at a time engrossed in his work. xianzhou natives attempted to sabotage his work by deliberately giving him defective or poor-quality material, but it never held him back. despite all the adversity, he became the Furnace Master, the highest title a craftsman can hold on a xianzhou ship.

when he was still a young kid, he’d met a foxian girl named baiheng. they met again some years later, along with jingliu, the champion swordmaster on the luofu, jing yuan, a young cloud knight and her apprentice, and dan feng, the high elder of the luofu vidyadhada. they all hit it off and became very close friends. yingxing forged special weapons for each of them, and the five fought against the abominations of abundance. they became known as the high cloud quintet.

they had a great time for many years, but the rest of them were all going to outlive him by centuries. they Should have, at least. baiheng was killed in battle, having done so protecting them in some way (distracting the enemy or interrupting them i believe?). dan feng decided they should take her remains along with some cursed abundance flesh and try to resurrect her. he convinced yingxing to join him in his wacky little plan. yingxing was like 70 by then hauling his old ass to go do some scary ritual.

they tried to resurrect her and did bad. instead of baiheng, they created a cursed dragon beast that started wreaking havoc and killing people. jingliu arrived in time to put the beast down. but. she was very, very close with baiheng. like obviously its not outright spoken canon, but they were basically married. so killing the mutated beast made from her wife’s corpse caused her to become mara struck. she killed yingxing as he stood in front of dan feng.

but! due to him fucking with that cursed abundance flesh during the resurrection, he came back to life. (and also got like 40 years younger apparently). jingliu took him with her somewhere and used the sword he made for her to kill him thousands of times, until he too became mara struck and forgot all memories of his life as yingxing.

then she kind of just dumped him in the wilderness somewhere or he escaped and went to the wilderness somewhere. he didnt know his name or anything, just that every part of him was constantly in agonizing pain and he could not die, despite badly wanting to die so the pain would end.

one day while he was out there, kafka and samfly showed up and tried to get him to join the stellaron hunters. he was mara stricken and batshit crazy thought so kafka had to shoot him to death and have samfly hold him down while she used her ability to calm his mara. she told him their leader knew a way to kill him permanently, and would help him reach this goal if he joined them. and he was like oh well in that case sure. she asked him his name, and he said he didn’t have one. (even in his internal monologue, he only ever refers to himself as ‘the unnamed.’) he told her he was more of a weapon than a person, so she was like. ummm.. okay. i’m calling you bladie. and he just let her do that and now everyone calls him blade

[dinnerbug]

An introduction

(Because I just noticed I haven't done one)

If you can't be bothered to read see highlighted sections for shortened but still understandable information

My name(s): Dinnerbug!

Both just bug or dinner work too if you want to shorten it down, and I'm also very open to Nicknames :D

My pronouns: It's (very) complicated

But to put it short for convenience, pretty much anything but xenopronouns work for me. Though I am quite fond of the sets she/him, he/they, they/it, and e/em/eir specifically

Things I think people should know about me:

I don't care who, what or where you are, I don't care what you believe. As long as what you like, believe, identify as or do doesn't harm anyone (harm anyone innocent that is) then you do you. I'm sick of people bullying eachother over nothing and I've worked on myself to break that mindset of 'I don't like that so it's bad'. To put it short, I'm a very accepting person and I'm only judgemental towards assholes (edited to add this because I feel it's important and I forgot it when I first made this post)

Interacting with people online like this is very much me going outside of my comfort zone, I am very anxious and I have very little self-confidence. If you interact with me in any way, be it a message, comment or ask and I don't reply, I'm probably just drowning in anxiety trying to figure out what to reply with. So if something like that happens I'm so sorry if I respond late, it just takes me time and it is not your fault. Also sometimes I start writing weirdly formally and I have no idea how I developed that habit

Miscellaneous facts: This is gonna be long

I tend to ramble a lot in posts like this I am so so sorry lmao (moved up for convenience)

I am autistic

I am british

I am asexual

I am non-binary

I have aphantasia (it sucks)

I love LORE

My favourite kind of fanfics are the kind where all my relatable favourite characters go through severe emotional turmoil and/or get hit into a wall with great force.

I can ride a bike

My favourite games are Minecraft and Portal 2

I love puzzles

I have an amazingly terrible sleep schedule. I will often be awake until 4am and asleep until 3pm, or often I won't sleep at all

I hope to learn to draw so I can interact with my favourite fandoms better and perhaps even make some friends

My hair is (was* will re-dye it soon) dyed

My favourite colour is black (boring I know)

My favourite word is No

My favourite foods are pizza, pasta, cheese and coconut

I'm very detail oriented

I don't tend to ship characters much

I'm so terrible at introductions that I have to mimic other people's ones and they still end up bad

I am very paranoid

One of my most common nightmare themes are zombie apocalypses, usually triggered by seeing zombie related content online within the past 2 days

Characters with fully black eyes (as in the whole eyeball) make me very uncomfortable and I always avoid eye contact with them

I am also very scared of the dark

Fandoms I'm in and actively interact with: If any fandoms I list here are stereotyped negatively I promise I'm a nice, chill person and I just want to enjoy things peacefully (list may change over time)

Hermitcraft

(my favourite hermits: Grian and Mumbo)

Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

(my favourite characters: Leo and Donnie)

Takin' over the asylum (I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SHOW)

(my favourite character: CAMPBELL BAIN <3 )

Sonic the hedgehog

(my favourite characters: Shadow, Sonic and Rouge)

Doctor who

(my favourite character (so far): The Doctor)

Ninjago

(my favourite characters: Lloyd, Garmadon and Zane)

[shuttershocky]

Hello! Do you have advice on how to use Mudrock S3 effectively? I've been obsessed with her since I started the game in June 2020 and finally got her today. She's at E2L60 already and I put one point of mastery into her S2 because the SP cost reduction is so nice for everyday use, but the S3 is what really drew me in, and it's already en route to M3. It seems like it can be an emergency survival tool for Mudrock herself, a lot of AOE crowd control, and shit-tons of damage, depending on what you need at the time. It's cool, but complicated.

Mudrock is like Kal'tsit to me. 90% of the time I keep their skill on S2 for the sheer convenience and their brute force usually being enough to solve anything.

And then when I'm sufficiently annoyed by a stage and just want to win, I swap to S3.

Due to its many features, it's best to talk about Mudrock's S3 by breaking it down into its 2 phases: Fuck Around, and Find Out.

Fucking Around

For 10 seconds, Mudrock becomes invincible, has 0 block, and doesn't attack. Instead, she channels energy in the ground that inflicts a 60 percent slow in a large AOE around her. After 10 seconds, the ground explodes and all enemies within her slow field are stunned.

It's for this reason that you usually see Mudrock's S3 used as crowd control in maps with chokepoints. The slow is just as powerful as Saria's S3, while the stun it inflicts at the end is very long 5 seconds at M3).

When you've got a lot of powerful enemies coming in and Mudrock's S2 just isnt enough brute force (such as say, during Contingency Contract and wow look at what's currently online in Arknights!), Use this skill to buy time for your ranged units to throw everything and the kitchen sink at the crowd. The invincibility can also be used to help Mudrock stall by activating the skill as she's about to die while slowing the enemy she's no longer blocking, or by being a timed stun bomb for combos with Ash.

And then after the stun's over? It's time to find out.

Finding Out

In Phase 2 of her S3, Mudrock shortens her attack interval by 0.3 (meaning she can squeeze out more attacks in the same timeframe), gains a huge ATK and DEF buff, and can hit multiple enemies at once equal to her block count.

If enemies are still alive after Mudrock finishes channeling, it usually means they're a group of powerful elites or a boss of some kind. In this case, Mudrock plays cleanup crew and starts killing them all herself. Her lowered attack interval and very high ATK boost gives her tremendous physical DPS, and her DEF boost means even if the enemy breaks all her shields, she'll still be able to stand her ground.

If you have any buffs, this is when you throw them at Mudrock. If you don't, she'll probably still win that brawl, just look at her stats.

TL;DR - Use Phase 1 in chokepoints with ranged allies to slow down crowds, or use the invincibility to stall enemies at the last possible second for Mudrock

Use Phase 2 to bonk things that Phase 1 couldn't. This is a very, very powerful physical DPS skill, one that will make short work of most enemies.

[daytaker]

4. Manifesto

(Existing Sucks So) Let's All Be Shadows.

A Satan-centric Nightbringer Timeline Fic (Read on AO3)* *This combines a shortened Chapter 5 (Invitations) & Chapter 6 (Manifesto) from AO3.

Chapter Starring: MC, Satan Chapter Word Count: ~3.3k Chapter Warnings: Satan's Twisted Worldview, flagrant abuse of Latin, "lol" spoken out loud

“I think I’m the part of Lucifer the light from the Celestial Realm never touched. Something ugly deep inside him that he kept hidden until he couldn’t contain it anymore.”

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Latest Chapter

1 2 3 4 5

“Would you care to join me for tea later?”

I was sitting at the dining table with Brothers 2 - 5, enjoying a relatively quiet lunch. I’d finally managed to cool down a bitter dispute between Mammon and Levi over the financial benefits of investing in gold versus collectibles, and I’d spent most of the meal nervously watching the pair cast searing glances at each other when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. So when Satan suddenly turned to me and extended the invitation, I had to take a few seconds to process the question.

Asmodeus didn’t need any such buffering period. He leaned in my direction, eyes fixed on Satan. “Ahhhh! I just got goosebumps!” he whimpered, rubbing his arms dramatically. Looking at me, his expression became heartbreakingly sympathetic. “Did you see his smile? So scary!”

“Shut up,” Satan suggested, flashing a dangerous glare in his brother’s direction before directing a more polite expression towards me.

I wouldn’t say it, but my impression wasn’t far removed from Asmo’s. I’d never been fully comfortable in the crosshairs of Satan’s smile even before the time travel incident–especially when it looked like how a cat might smile at a mouse. 

Still, he was one of the brothers, and I felt guilty for ditching him at the library the other day, so I smiled at him and nodded. “Sure thing!”

“Great! You can come to my room in an hour or so.” And as if to say ‘well, that’s that,’ Satan started gathering his dishes to take to the kitchen.

Mammon scowled and pointed a drumstick in Satan’s direction. “Oi, why your room? It ain’t respectable, you know? Have your damn tea in the library or something.”

“As if you’ve never spent time together in your room?” Satan snapped. “Don’t make me laugh. Besides, if we go anywhere else, you’ll all conveniently turn up and interrupt us.”

“Have a point, he does,” said Levi, speaking in a caricatured voice. “Interrupt, we would.”

“Why’re ya talkin’ like that? And whose side are you on, anyway?!”

While Mammon barked complaints, Asmodeus sighed sadly next to me, hugging my arm. “Wouldn’t you be happier with more of us there?”

“No,” said Satan.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Asmo replied curtly before turning glistening eyes to me again. “Wouldn’t you? Maybe not those clowns,” he nodded toward Mammon and Levi, “but I’m worried you’ll spend the whole time missing me. It breaks my heart to even imagine it…”

I grinned awkwardly and shook my head. “I think I’ll be alright. It looks like Satan would rather it just be the two of us, anyway.”

“Thank goodness you at least can pick up on subtext. Then that’s settled.” Satan cast a stern glance around the table as if daring one of his brothers to put up another argument. When no one did, he walked off to the kitchen with his dishes.

“There’s a difference between missing subtext and ignoring it because it pisses you off,” grumbled Mammon, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “I hate that guy sometimes.”

“Let’s set up a group chat!” gasped Asmo, pulling out his D.D.D. “It’ll be us four! That way, you can sound the alarm if anything goes wrong!”

“A separate group chat, we need not.” Levi pointed out. “Redundant, it would be. The House of Lamentation chat, we already possess.”

“Seriously, why are ya talkin’ like that?”

“Ugh, you’re all no fun,” Asmo pouted. Then he looked at me and grabbed my hands with an air of total seriousness. “So when you’re in his room, try and stay close to the door. That way you’ll have a clean escape route.”

“Lol,” Levi giggled. “Asmo as a grand strategist. Hindered by the fog of war since nobody knows what Satan's room looks like. -3 to all mental stats.”

“A’ight, knock it off, you’re gonna freak ’em out,” Mammon groaned. Then he looked at me, lifting one palm into the air. “These guys are overreactin’. Satan likes ya. He ain't gonna do nothin’.”

Asmodeus sighed. “I'm not so sure about that Mammon. When Satan gets mad, I don't think it really matters how much he likes or dislikes someone. All that matters is how close they are.”

Not even Mammon could contradict this point.

------

Eventually, I managed to extricate myself from the dining room. By that point, it was time to head to Satan’s room. I’ll admit that I was a little bit nervous as I approached the door and knocked.

I mean, I’d blown him off so recently. He wasn’t in a rage or anything, sure, but was he feeling bitter? He certainly seemed bitter the other night. I didn’t really want to be alone with him if he was seriously irritated with me.

It was too late to go back, though. The door opened, and Satan stood at the threshold, smiling like a perfect gentleman.

“There you are. Thanks for coming.”

As I looked past Satan into his room, I had to choke back an actual gasp.

Where… were all the books…?

There was a small table with a tea tray set up in the middle of the room and the bed was in its usual place, but otherwise, the room appeared to be mostly barren.

“What’s wrong?” Satan asked, frowning testily. “You look like I left something weird lying out.”

As if confirming that he hadn't actually done that, he stole a quick glance behind him before looking back at me and gesturing more forcefully to the table and chairs, inviting me inside with considerably less decorum than he'd shown earlier.

“Oh. Nothing,” I lied awkwardly, stepping through the door and taking a more thorough look around. Now that I was inside, I saw that there were at least thirty books stored on shelves, most of them from his earlier trip to the library, but compared to the hundreds of precariously stacked volumes I was used to, it felt barren, even a little bit sad.

“Sit down,” he said. It wasn’t exactly spoken as an order, but it wasn’t especially courteous either. My nervousness grew, and I did as I was told.

Satan poured us some tea, and I mutely took the cup and saucer. I took a sip of tea and let my eyes wander around the room. That sense that it wasn’t finished yet kept nagging at me. After all, what was his room without books? Just four walls and a bed, really. And, today, two chairs and a small table. And– Huh. That was weird. Something on one of the shelves was glowing. It was some sort of document… A scroll, maybe? The faint effervescent glow was noticeable, but not distracting.

Satan followed my gaze to the scroll and clicked his tongue irritably. “Oh. Lucifer gave me that. I haven’t looked at it yet.” He closed his eyes and shrugged with almost vehement disinterest. “I’m not sure if I ever will.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Something like a birth certificate, I guess.”

I almost said I was surprised that demons had those, but it would be strange for a demon to either be unaware of that fact, or to be naive enough to mistake an obvious joke for the truth.

“Could I look at it?”

He opened one eye and squinted at me through it. It felt like he was trying to discern my motives. Whatever he thought, he eventually nodded, and his eye closed again.

I put down my saucer and walked over to the shelf, standing on my tiptoes to grasp at the paper curled up in the corner. Snagging it by its edge, I pulled it down and, untied the gold ribbon that held it together, and started to unroll it.

ANNO MMCDXCI REGNI GARDONI MAGNI A SANGUINE LUCIFERI ET CORPORE LILITHAE

I quickly rolled it up again.

“Mm? Is it that terrifying?” Satan was sitting twisted in his chair and looking over his shoulder to see me. He wore a small smirk.

“No,” I said quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked genuinely amused. “You look a little shaken up.”

“Oh,” I said flatly. My hands were trembling just a little bit. I wasn’t quite sure why. “It’s just… I don’t feel right being the first to look at it.”

“You don't 'feel right'? If you think it’ll hold any sentimental value for me, you’re wrong,” said Satan dryly, turning back around in his seat.

I replaced the scroll on the shelf and made my way back to my seat. Satan stared at me. I knew he wanted to know what I’d seen. I also knew he wasn’t going to ask directly. He wasn’t about to show interest in the document after dismissing it so completely out of hand.

“...I saw Lucifer’s name on it,” I said. “And some year… It- It was in a language I don’t know.”

I could tell it was in Latin, but I wasn’t sure how well your average demon would be acquainted with human languages. It was a little strange that it was written in a human language at all, really.

“Well, obviously Lucifer is on it.” Satan stared into his mostly-empty teacup as he dangled it by its handle from his thumb and forefinger.

“It also mentioned Lilith…”

Satan’s eyes darted up to meet mine. A flicker of emotion; that was it. “Lilith, huh? That’s interesting.” He looked into the teacup again, slouching somewhat in his seat. “What do you know about Lilith?”

“I know she was your sister,” I started, and Satan swiftly shook his head.

“Theirs,” he corrected. “Not mine.”

“I know she was their sister,” I started again. “I know that she fell in love with a human. And I know that’s what led to the Great Celestial War.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” he asked nonchalantly.

I hesitated for just a moment. “...She died.”

Satan nodded. Then he sighed and glanced up at me. “You don’t need to be so careful about how you talk about her around me. I never even knew her.”

“Still, her dying, and the war, and everything that’s happened since then…” I struggled to find the right words. “It seems like it’s been hard on all of you.”

“I have it the easiest,” he said with a condescending shrug.

“How?” That statement baffled me. Sure, his situation was different from his brothers’, but never once had it crossed my mind that he might have it easier. 

“I don’t have any annoying attachment to that other place,” he explained with a broad gesture towards the ceiling.

“The Celestial Realm?”

“What other place is there?” he snapped. I might have mentioned the human world, but there was no sense in nitpicking at the moment.

“You don’t feel any connection to it at all?” I asked, growing a bit curious. I knew the general circumstances of how Satan came to be and the implications of that, but my actual understanding of the whole thing was muddled at best. “Even though you’re…?”

“Even though what?” Satan’s expression was… Well, the most accurate word I can think of is bright, though that doesn’t really give the right impression. He was smiling broadly, and his eyes were glimmering with an unsettling intensity. But he didn’t look happy, and his expression was as pale and cold as ice. He knew what I was thinking.

“Even though you’re… I mean, even though you came from…” The smile didn’t falter, but he raised his eyebrows, prompting me to continue. “…from…Lucifer.”

I assumed it wouldn’t send him into a rage, since he had clearly anticipated what I said, and I was right. But I still didn’t expect the gentle laugh that followed. It was perfectly polite, like the kind of obligatory laugh you’d expect at a fancy party. I could hear Asmo whispering in my mind. I just got goosebumps!

“Even though I came from Lucifer. Haha. What a weird way to put it.” His expression finally softened a little, and I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’ve actually wondered about this before, and I’ve come up with a theory.” He straightened up and took the last sip of tea in his cup just then. Probably trying to up the drama of the moment.

He set the teacup down in its saucer and fixed his gaze on me again. I wished he’d stop doing that.

“I think I’m the part of Lucifer the light from the Celestial Realm never touched. Something ugly deep inside him that he kept hidden until he couldn’t contain it anymore.”

I looked at him, and he looked at me. I didn’t believe him. Not really. I knew that some of Lucifer’s old feelings and memories lingered in Satan. But I couldn’t imagine he felt good about that. And there wasn’t any reason that I should know that in this place.

“I don’t understand,” I finally said.

He smiled and nodded kindly. “Of course you don’t. No one does. Not even I understand it.” He leaned back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. His mind wasn’t there, though. It was up, up, up, way up in that place he’d never been, but which was so inextricably linked to who he was and why he existed.

“The rest of them… The ones who call themselves my brothers. They all wish they were back there. Even Lucifer. They all regret it.”

He looked at me sharply for a few seconds as if challenging me to argue.

I took a more conservative approach. “…Why do you think that?”

“Because they failed.” He shrugged. “They lost everything. They didn’t even save their sister. It would have been better for everyone if they’d done nothing at all.”

I couldn’t agree with that for a whole host of reasons. But topmost on my mind…

“But if they did nothing, you wouldn’t exist.”

Satan grinned, and I got the distinct impression that he’d been hoping I’d notice that issue. Like I had made his point perfectly and saved him a lot of tedious explaining. But that grin of his… It was an awful thing to look at. It didn’t look like it so much as it felt like looking at the grin of a corpse. So I stared down at my hands. I had no interest in picking up the teacup again. I felt sick.

“Think about it from my perspective,” Satan said, sidestepping my comment. “The only reason I’m here is as a legacy of failure. I pick fights with them a lot. But isn’t that just natural? It’s why I exist. I exist to remind them that they failed.” I heard him shift slightly in his seat. “...I exist to remind him that he failed.”

Things were quiet for a few merciful seconds.

“You look so sad.”

I braced myself, then hesitantly met Satan’s gaze. He wasn’t grinning anymore, thank goodness. But that eerie brightness hadn’t left his face. He seemed to be enjoying this entire conversation far too much.

I tried to answer him. I tried to tell him that I was sad. I didn’t want to think he hated himself that much. Hated existing that much. Or was all that just a cruel joke of his? He didn’t seem to be taking it seriously. But he wasn’t really treating it as an actual joke either. More like… gallows humor? Like he had to find it funny, or else it would smother him. And it was painful to watch it. In another world, I really loved the guy. But here…

I didn’t know this person.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said you looked sad.”

Satan leaned forward in his seat, examining my expression. The brightness was dimmer, and I got the feeling that I wasn’t reacting the way he’d hoped anymore. I was probably being too quiet.

“...Why did you want me to have tea with you?” I asked him. My voice felt dry and separate from me. I didn’t recognize it. “Are you punishing me for leaving you at the library?”

Satan looked taken aback.

“Punishing you?” His surprised expression suddenly turned angry, and he scowled. “Why the hell would I waste my time punishing you? Is having tea with me really so awful that it feels like a punishment?”

“No,” I said, my voice a little firmer. “But this conversation is.”

Satan stared at me, then looked at the table with the teapot and other accoutrement set atop it. 

“I was just curious how you would react, that’s all.”

Curious how I would react? Curious how I would react to what, exactly?

“I wanted to tell you, specifically. I thought your reaction might be interesting to watch. I didn’t expect you to look so heartbroken over it, though.”

“Over what?”

“Over the fact that I’m not a real person and I shouldn’t exist. That I’m punishment for my brothers. Did you know that my name means ‘the adversary’ in a human language?” He tilted his head a bit. “Or maybe I misinterpreted your expression. That’s just what it looked like to me.”

I stared blankly at him. “...I’m sorry, what?”

Satan seemed to appreciate that reply. His lips quirked into a hint of a smile again. “That’s what I was telling you. Lucifer shouldn’t have started any idiotic rebellion. None of them should have become demons. I shouldn’t exist. And the evidence–”

“Satan–”

“The evidence,” he continued, drowning out my interruption, “is my incompleteness.”

All I could do was stare at him. I didn’t know what to think anymore. I was tired of trying to understand what he meant. Still, the obvious question spilled out, as if I was reading a script he’d handed me before I walked into the room.

“What do you mean, your ‘incompleteness’?”

Satan leaned back in his seat as if to say ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ “All I am,” he explained slowly, “is the wrath that leaked out when Lucifer tore off his angel wings.” The ghost of a smile stayed on his face, but unlike before, he looked and sounded deathly serious. “Lucifer rebelled, and he failed. Lucifer hates to lose. He hates to lose so much that all the ugly energy that poured out of him turned into something like a person. But you can’t make a real person out of ingredients like that.” The ghost of a smile grew slightly, but it was bitter and resentful. “You can only make a shadow.”

------

I walked out of the House of Lamentation without saying a word to anyone. I could hear my D.D.D. pinging me, probably Asmo and the others asking how things went. I ignored it all the way to Cocytus Hall.

“I’m home,” I said tiredly as I stepped into the unit I shared with Solomon. 

The sorcerer peeked out of his room with a cheerful smile. “Hello! Did you have a good…” His smile vanished, and he stepped out of his room. “What happened…?”

I knew I looked awful. I didn’t have to see a mirror to understand that. I felt awful. So when Solomon approached me and put a hand on my shoulder, looking carefully at my face, I didn’t protest. I didn’t have the energy.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled.

Solomon continued to stare keenly at me, his expression almost stern. Then his face loosened up and his usual smile returned.

“That's okay. You can cry if it helps,” he said gently, clasping my hands. I pulled one of them free and touched my cheek. 

Dammit. I really was crying.