#notebook unusual battle

[educatioconnection]

Compilation of notebook sketches from the past few weeks

[writerfromshikahr]

This piece is a love letter to my Dwarf Rook. She's a Saboteur and a force of nature in a fight. I try not to be to specific in my pieces, but she needs to have all the joy poured onto her. Pre relationship moment.

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Nice - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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She was unusual—a Dwarf Crow. Not something you saw every day. Normally, an orphaned child like her would have been taken in by the Carta, but she had been brought to House de Riva after losing her parents in Treviso. It wasn’t uncommon for the Crows to "adopt" lost children for their own means.

He’d known of her—if only by reputation. She had been Viago’s protégé. Through his roundabout inquiries with Viago, Lucanis had learned that Rook was exceptional with a blade. A little too "headstrong" at times. Viago could never give a compliment without sneaking in a jab, but despite all his complaints, it was clear to Lucanis that the Fifth Talon had a soft spot for her. Not romantically, but like a sibling—there was an undercurrent of concern and protectiveness in how he spoke about her.

Lucanis could see the usefulness of a small whirlwind of blades, traps, and explosions in battle. Watching her fight was a spectacle. She zipped between the legs of Hurlocks, launched herself onto the backs of Antaam, and spun and kicked her way to someone’s inevitable death.

"Save a little for the rest of us, Rook!" he’d shout during the fray.

With a smirk, she’d call back, "Then keep up, Dellamorte!"

Her boldness in combat bordered on reckless. She barreled into enemies with swords raised, sometimes peppering in arrows for good measure. Stealthy, she was not. Effective? Absolutely. She didn’t need to be subtle if her target was already dead.

Like a true Crow, she projected a calculated and ruthless image—swift on her feet and laser-focused when given a contract, even if that contract happened to be on two Elven gods. But beneath the facade, she was anxious, an overthinker who kept herself awake for hours at night, she was never easy on herself—her own worst critic, much like he was at times.

He often found her in the kitchen, coffee in hand, writing hurriedly in her notebook. After every major confrontation, she would do this for hours. He’d never asked her what it was about, though the thought had crossed his mind more than once. Instead, he’d quietly brew more coffee for her or cook something warm and filling, ensuring they both had something to eat as they spoke softly in the stillness of the early morning. Lucanis enjoyed her company, especially when it was just the two of them. Not that he disliked the others, but with Rook, it was different. She understood him—his mindset—their shared background as Crows. Their kind didn’t have the best reputation for being trustworthy or honorable. Around her, he didn’t have to defend himself or pretend to be anything other than who he was.

If he were honest with himself, though, it wasn’t just the understanding he appreciated. It was the way she made him feel. There was a kindness in the way she spoke to him, a softness that caught him off guard. She didn’t see him just as an assassin. She saw him—Lucanis.

She asked questions—not about his work, but about him. She wanted to know what books he liked to read, the little memories he had of his childhood, and even lighthearted things like his favorite color or his top three favourite foods. No one had ever asked him such seemingly small questions before, but somehow, they felt significant.

She shared snippets about her life growing up in House de Riva and, occasionally, stories from her time in Ferelden with her merchant parents. He could never quite determine whether there was a hint of sadness when she spoke of her past, the time before she was molded into a Crow. Most of her memories—and the emotional ties to that life—had likely been stripped away. Her anger at her parents’ senseless deaths had been weaponized to drive her toward becoming the perfect killer.

Unlike him, who still had family—complicated as they were—she had been by herself and forced to rely on the Crows. How alone she must have felt, so different from the humans and elves they often recruited. Perhaps that’s why Viago had such a soft spot for her, letting himself take on the role of a protective older brother to a child who had no one else.

Sitting across the table from her in these quiet moments, Lucanis often found himself wishing for Illario’s charm. Not because he wanted to get her into bed, as his cousin so often did with a winning smile and well-placed words, but because he wanted to truly know her. He craved to learn everything about Rook—the little details, the stories she hadn’t yet told. But charm wasn’t his forte. Sociability had never been something he mastered. His life had been devoted to dispatching targets quickly and effortlessly, not to the art of conversation.

"Why do you want to know this about me?" he would ask her.

"Because I like you," she’d reply plainly, usually returning to her writing or taking a bite of whatever he had made her.

"Like me?" he’d echo, the question laced with a quiet hope that her feelings might go beyond camaraderie or professional respect.

"You get me. It’s easy with you, Lucanis."

A simple statement, but it meant so much to him. To know he could be a source of comfort for her, even if he didn’t have the words to tell her she made him feel the same.

This night, as he sat across the table from her, had been like all the other evenings they’d shared—until she had an inquiry of her own.

"Why do you ask me questions?" she asked, her focus on the diagram she was scribbling in the corner of her page. When he didn’t answer, she glanced up. "Lucanis?"

He took a slow sip of his coffee, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I enjoy listening to you," he said softly, his gaze fixed on the cup in his hands. "Your voice..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "You're nice to talk to."

The moment the word nice left his mouth, he internally winced. Of all the words he could have chosen, nice? It was out there now, impossible to snatch back and stab out of existence, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Nice?" she replied, raising an eyebrow. A soft laugh escaped her. "I think this is the first time anyone has said that about my talking... I’ll accept it, but only because you said it."

"I’m not good with....this," he said softly, "I can try to work on it—for you."

"You don't need to try anything, Lucanis. I appreciate your words, even the 'nice' ones."

"Then I’ll have to keep saying them," he said softly, offering her a small, sincere smile.

[truths33k3r4]

Oh and I was wondering - how do the turtles go to school? Is it an online program or taught solely through Splinter? I actually just started an online class and it definitely seams reasonable that this is what they would use, but I also don’t know what year the story takes place in. Anyways thanks!

Hello, Anon!!!

Since I was homeschooled my whole life, (and have NO CLUE what it's like having online classes or going to public school), I decided the best thing for my lil turts would be the same as what I grew up with. :) For the first ten years of their lives, they are solely taught by Splinter. (Whom has gathered as many used schoolbooks as he could from lost and found, discarded backpacks, the library, and garage sales.)

Sometimes the level of the subjects was a bit high for the brothers, but they had to make due with what they had. By eleven years old, the oldest brothers would help teach the younger. (Whether they wanted to or not.) They would share the same books, always using pencils so Splinter could erase their answers and pass it off to the next sibling.

How Each Turtle Sibling Handled/Handles School

Leonardo- He's well versed in Japanese and loves to write and (sometimes) play music. He’s done many personal studies on soundtracks in his spare time. He only became an A+ student when he became a teen and was given the responsibility of his brothers and family. For years prior to becoming leader, he was known to cheat the most out of all his brothers- always looking for the easy way out of work.

Raphael- He hates school. A lot of it anyways.. But history class has all kinds of battles and wars, so he’s cool with that. Just don’t expect him to remember any dates. He was taught how to speak Japanese, but it might as well have been labeled as a ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. He is a sketcher when it comes to his work notebooks. Every page has little doodles of him and his bros fighting enemies or dressed like famous tv characters.

Donatello- He has already graduated high school, going as fast as he could to finish so he could start working. Even with rushing his studies, he was still an A+ student alongside Leo. (Once the leader took his studies seriously.) He is the most versed in Japanese, mostly because he really enjoys learning how different languages work, as well as how diverse different languages handle grammar, spelling, etc. He loved most of school, except for writing class. He’s not the most creative brother, so he found it boring and useless to learn how to write tales or poems. 

Lotus- She was only taught a few things in her earlier years by the kind doctor from her past. __ would smuggle children’s books into Lotus' cell, and would teach her how to speak and sign. She can’t write- yet. But Splinter and Mikey help her to learn how as time progresses. She has a great memory and learns very quickly.

Michelangelo- School is.. fine. Not his favorite, but it gives him extra time to hang out with his brothers. He’s the least versed in Japanese, mostly because he was very little and didn’t understand a thing when Sensei taught his brothers. He can remember some words and phrases, but that’s about it. He wishes ‘Art’ was a class, but Splinter never really found any books on the subject, so he had to go in blind. He didn’t mind though. His best subjects were reading and animal science. He loves to use his imagination, and has a really clear voice, so reading came very naturally to him. He refuses to open a book though, unless there’s pictures inside.

As for what year this story takes place in- I haven't actually decided yet. XD For now, in the current story, I'll go with it's the mid 2000's. (Might change that later- but I'll use it for now.)

Great question! :)

~ Melissa

[marksofsympathy]

Chapter one!! Under cut!!

Her pen glided against the paper in gentle yet purposeful strokes. Words came to mind and she picked out the ones best fit for her writing. An iterator approached with a small content laugh. He was a happy iterator, and in all honestly the tan one wouldn't change him for anything.

"Writing again Mossy?" The blue iterator seemed to smile at her.

She looked up to see him, those bright multicolored eyes. One was blue, one was red. The iterator himself was a mix of blue and red, dark blue with red markings. He wore a skirt as well as a pretty top, the iterator was always unusual to her.

"I suppose I am writing Surreal, what have you been up to?" Her voice was steady and never shook, strong and formidable was who she would be.

"Mossy, Songs wants us back at base, we're gonna attack these iterators. Frigid returned with their info on the guys." Surreal spoke in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet for something so horrible.

"How do you do that? Do you not feel remorse for those who we kill? Do you find some sick enjoyment in their pain?" Mossy narrowed her eyes at Surreal, her gaze slowly softened in a mournful way.

"We are family, right? Why would you tear apart something you know you care about? I mean think about it Surreal..... how could you tear apart someone's family when yours means so much to you?" Mossy twirled her pen in her fingers slowly as if to distract herself.

"It's just what Songs wants- Mossy, we have to do this. Who are we to question our own senior? So.... Please let's not talk about it." Surreal watched as his tan sister got up holding her notebook close to her chest.

"I suppose so...." Mossy leaned against Surreal as they walked.

Upon reaching the group of iterators, Surreal instinctively took hold of her hand. A dark green and lime iterator jumped and bounced around in a giddy excitement. Mossy stared at them all, fourteen iterators in one local group. Songs stood among the crowd of blood thirsty iterators. Summer, Crescent, Erosions, Trophies, Hero just to name a few.

"Mossy, Surreal, why don't you two join us." Songs stared at the tan iterator with an unreadable expression.

Mossy formed several questions on why she should, combats for if Songs were to insult her. She thought of many things to say, many things to do. Looking over she saw the knife held by Hero was sharp, the blade a rusted color. Without much thought Mossy had already formed an idea on how to counter his attack if he were to try and harm her. And yet, despite everything she remained silent.

"We're traveling this cycle again, we'll reach them in time. From the information Frigid has gathered they all live in one place. Let's be off now, the cycle won't wait on us." And like that they walked forward.

Mossy stared ahead, the dry crusted earth beneath her feet crunch with every step. The world seemed dry with not a single trace of water. She wanted to write about this, every little detail. The world she faced brought forth a desperate need for greenery. The scorching sun lashed against the sky in violent yet still warmth. The tan iterator had seen so many things, written so many stories. Describing the world around her seemed to bring peace to her uneasy soul.

With the excitement faded out of the local group Mossy only grew more willing to turn around. But to her dismay they spotted an iterator. Small, teal, young and joyous. Without a second thought Mossy sprinted towards the iterator. They let out a shrill cry with a mix of fear and distrust. Songs narrowed her eyes at the two, throwing her spear to strike down the scrawny teal child.

The vicious howls and shouts of the local group pushed Mossy forward. In a rush of pure adrenaline she yanked the child aside. The tan one wondered how it felt to feel that spear brush across their face in an almost fatal blow. The no longer fierce battle cries took a harsh change into distraught.

"Mossy! What the hell is wrong with you!?" Songs snarled at the tan iterator who stood still.

As for the child, they ran as fast as their small legs would allow. The thought of a near death experience was hard enough, but to simply be of generation three? Maybe that fear was something she'd never know, but moving to the next cycle so early seemed horrible. Surreal stared at her for a long moment but even he turned his head away.

"They were but a child." Mossy simply watched as Songs stormed towards her in bitter yet not silent rage.

The white iterator stared with displeasure and disappointment, yet it did not phase her. Once close enough she placed her hand on Mossy's face, using her other to trace the infinity marking on her forehead. Songs's gaze did not soften as her affection grew rough. Although once she stopped she scolded the younger iterator.

"We are not here to save lives! We're powerful are we not? I do not care what anyone's age is! If they die, they die!" Songs shook her head to walk off in an aggressive fashion.

"Mossy you seem to ruin just about everything don't you." It hissed out its words which were usually silent.

Harmless, it was never an iterator that she would have seen to grow so agitated once violence was incited. It grew to hate Mossy, that was something she knew. Everywhere she went, it followed to try to call out her flaws and expose her for something she had not a single clue about. Mossy laughed a little at what Harmless had tried to insult her with.

"Why are you laughing!? Are you neuron dead as well!?" Harmless' tall form attempted to tower over Mossy with harmful intent.

"It's just funny to me, you hate me. Yet you spend your every moment thinking of me. There hasn't been a single cycle where you have not tried to do emotional harm to me. It's quite humorous that you keep failing, yet try all over again." Mossy's hums of amusement seemed to dig under its nonorganic skin.

"I'll fucking kill you." Harmless snarled, it tried to make its large and sturdy figure known.

"Why you're at it, kill yourself." Mossy simply walked away from the crowd of iterators who chirped and hollered with amusement at the argument, but all Mossy could think of was Surreal's worried face.

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Music and Flames

The Whitebeard pirates were well known for their parties. Even other emperors knew the large group liked to party. It wasn’t like Shanks’ crew that drank until they drying a whole island up. No it was different. They would dance, sing, and laugh the whole night away. All in all a very fun happy night when they partied.

The end of the year party was coming up. Another year that they lived and were happy to be part of. Everyone was ready to have a blast. Even the newer recruits were getting in on the party.

The ex Spade pirates were helping where they could. Getting more food, and alcohol. Ace had towed a few ships to the next island just to make sure they had enough to last them. Deuce helping the commanders with planning. They put up lights so no one would be left in the dark. Tents to sleep in or anything else that would be needed. Multiple places to go to the bathroom. It was all for the best party of the year.

Ace smiled and laughed. Trying his best not to get too caught up with the fact that it was that time of year again. It wasn’t like the Whiteboard's knew about it. The Spades too busy to mention it. He could relax and enjoy the time he got with them.

When the party started they found out that it started strangely. Everyone got a chance to show off what they learned or completed this year. Everything form a drawing they did to full battle plans. Just about everything they were proud of was on display. Pops watching with a smile on his face, as each child presented.

Before long it was the new comers turn. Not minding that they weren’t ready for this. It was part of the hazing. It also helped not make the new people freak out about having something completed that would match the others.

Deuce stood on stage being the first to be thrown up there. He looked around then at Pops. Everyone waited, smiling and holding no judgment for the boy. “I uh wrote a full three notebooks about our adventures.” He said, hoping it was enough. Just what was he supposed to say?

“AWESOME!” “YOU HAVE TO READ SOME OF THEM TO US!” The crowd yelled. Making Deuce read out some of the things he wrote. All of them were true of course. Cheering more when Deuce actually read out one of the things they did that year. Did if focus on Ace, yeah. Ace was doing something stupid and got them caught up in it. Making the Whiteboard's laugh and snicker while looking at Ace. Not that he minded much. But, they were alive at the end of the day. Just another story to tell when he saw Luffy again.

Banshee made a new dish this year. One that Thatch taught her. It took six attempts to get it right. Every time it went wrong, Ace got to eat more than the others. Not that anyone wanted the off colored creation he was eating. She was so happy to get it right. Knowing that she was close because Ace said it tasted good. Everyone cheered and told her to keep on cooking.

Skull told them about how he was just a pirate fanboy until he met Ace. MEtting Ace was both the best and worst thing for his fan life. Ace showed up beat up the crew he was hanging out with. Then didn’t know how to sail the ship at all. He had to teach Ace and Deuce everything, until they made it to the next island. But he ended up having to keep the idiot alive. Ace yelled ‘That’s not being true, I knew some things.’ not that anyone believed him. It did end up making everyone laugh. Soon everyone had gone up. Learning more about the new siblings then they might have in the next month.

It was Ace’s turn. He didn’t really know what to say. It wasn’t like he really did anything note worthy. He fought a bunch of people but that wasn’t unusual for him. Plus everyone else had something else to be proud of. Thinking about what he did, the crowd waited.

They couldn’t wait to hear what he was going to come up with. Was it about fighting Pops? OR beating Jimbe a war lord of the sea. Maybe it was some other story they hadn’t learned yet. Whatever it was they couldn’t wait to hear it.

The answer was nothing they could ever expect.“I…uh…learned a song?” Ace said not confident. Otama taught it to him when he visited. It honestly wasn’t that big of a thing.

The silence as they wondered why that of all things was what he said. “Well, Sing it then!” Thatch called out. Laughing that singing is what Ace chose.

“kaeru no uta ga

kikoete kuru yo

gwa gwa gwa gwa

gero gero gero gero

gwa gwa gwa” Ace sang. He had never sang in front of a crowd before and didn’t really know what to sing. It was a short song, and was over soon enough. The others stared at him then cheered. Telling him he did a good job. That he should sing more often. Ace, was so embarrassed that his shoulders were on fire. But, it wasn’t a bad feeling. This time at least.

Izou knew that song. Though they didn’t say anything right away. It was nice to hear their language again. From someone other than themselves. After all who else was from Wano on their crew. Maybe with time they could teach Ace how to speak with them. That would be the most fun.

Not right now though at the musicians had gotten their hands on Ace and were unlikely to let him go. They were going to make the boy sing until he couldn’t. Izou saw many of the new spades being taken away into the groups that shared their hobbies and interests. Reminding Izou why they asked Pops to start this whole thing.

Twords the end of the year everyone waited. Counting down the seconds. Another year as a family. A year of seeing the world and fighting. Pranks, laughter, and tears. There was so much to every year. It only made the best parts of life to be here. Tomorrow the party would continue, one a little sadder to honor the ones that didn’t make it to the new year. If they died or left to peruse there dreams, it didn’t matter. They would always be family to them. There was never a need to say goodbye when they would see each other again.

[faulty-writes]

hello!!!! may i request fantasy au prince!iida x knight!reader headcanons? thank you!! take care!!

[ Oh, this is a bit new. I'm so used to doing Knight!Iida. But Prince Iida? Hell yeah, sign me up for that! ]

Prince Tenya was the second heir to the throne of the Yuuei Kingdom. He was admired for his compassion and sense of responsibility to his citizens. You, on the other hand, were one of the royal knights assigned to guard and always protect the prince.

"Pardon if this is rather forward of me but I observed this rare white love dragon rose while we were walking through the garden and I…" He cleared his throat, something unusual for a prince of his stature to do. "I believe it was rather fitting to gift to you because you are my shining knight and the one, I always wish to remain by my side."

Tenya and your combat skills appeared equally matched, part of the reason for that was because you had trained him. Regardless, many spoke of how your conjoined skills in battle complimented each other. Yet it was Tenya who acted so fascinated whenever the two of you finished training. "Your skills are rather intriguing! Inspiring even! I am honored to have a knight with such promise working by my side!"

"Please address me by my name when we are alone," he requested this several times from you, but you thought it improper to address a member of the royal family by their first name. That is until Tenya kneeled before you and said, "I am quite aware that such is unheard of. However, I believe we have quite an indestructible relationship, and I trust you with my life."

It was no surprise you had other dreams apart from serving under the royal family, all of which you shared with Tenya, and in return, he shared his dreams and worries with you. This included his fear that he would not be able to handle the weight of his future responsibilities, regardless of whether he became King or remained a Prince ruling by his brother's side.

"I believe that's a rare blood mushroom," he said, quickly documenting it in his notebook. On occasion, you'd join Tenya to explore the forests near the kingdom and he'd always write down his sightings for research later. While you enjoyed moments like this, you were always prepared to defend him if lurkers were around.

He confided in you when his brother received a grave injury, and he was then labeled as the only remaining heir to the throne. Your heart broke when he kneeled in front of you and cried in your lap. The Prince…now future King looked so broken and although you tried offering him comforting words, you knew there was very little to be done with a broken heart.

As promised, after he had received the crown. You remained by his side, as his most trusted knight, and while he granted you the responsibility of training the lesser knights which took up most of your time. You enjoyed serving under him, and you especially loved the words the two of you shared when he couldn't fall asleep considering you were also assigned to guard him at night.

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №7

<-Switch to Russian ver.

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This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

I'm experimenting with shadows) I like that Nightmer now looks like a happy octopus. Contrary to tradition, he was the first one in the photo, not Killer(I like how his fur turned out). But with Cross, I can't seem to draw his mech sharper and harder. Maybe in the future, I'll be able to do something that satisfies me. I feel like I messed up the perspective a bit in the drawing, and maybe some characters seem a bit lower/higher than I tried to draw them before, but I tried to maintain proportions =)

The new level was a network of mazes with walls made of ancient brick, through the gaps of which light passed. They were so narrow that Nightmer clearly felt a wave of irritation from the Destroyer, apparently afraid of accidental touches with someone. He himself didn't like the excess of disturbing light in this place.

Their smiling pets, on the other hand, enthusiastically entered the bright tunnels, gathering in groups around lanterns and torches, gradually depleting them until they went out with a characteristic sound. Since the author of the notes did not specify the exact path of penetration to level 3 through this place, most likely they had to wander back and forth for quite a long time until they finally came somewhere, or Error did not feel the transition between levels.

They slowly walked in the dark through the corridors following the Smilers absorbing the light. The material of the walls changed more often than on level 0: they passed through caves with glowing moss, hospital corridors with long incandescent lamps, round tunnel-pipes with blinding light from grilles. The latter gave them hope that they could finally get out at least to the Antivoid, but when Killer tried to stick his head out of the window, he received a very painful burn, which made his bones blacken. Insensitive to pain, he looked more surprised than angry. Fortunately, his HP was not affected. Nevertheless, the group stopped so that Horror could treat his injury.

It seems that the light on this level was not particularly friendly. And this helped them to pay attention to the fact that there were fewer former dog monsters around them now. Continuing to watch them, it turned out that their number decreased when they attacked flashing sources of light. Apparently, the decision to follow them protected the guys from unnecessary injuries. When their pack's number approached critical, Error was hit by a flashing light. Fortunately, the flash only hit his scarf, completely destroying it, which made the enraged Destroyer unleash his fury on hostile photons, at the same time completely destroying their accompaniment.

Fortunately, not far from the battle site, they still stumbled upon a hole in the wall leading to a richly decorated but empty bathroom. This was level 3.

The author of the notebook has no records about this level. He wrote a lot about how to get there, but did not describe it. Since all the levels before this one were quite empty and not heavily populated with hostile creatures, the group did not worry about the future.

Nightmer reacted quite optimistically to this place. He felt that sweet negativity was flowing in the pipes around them, which was unusual for him and deafened any presence of other creatures. It was clear that he would not be able to use his aura effectively here, for example, to search for lost ones or communicate with entities. Although the power that now overwhelmed him was good. (he is worried about the condition of others, maybe they should leave this place as soon as possible)

Error is still too vulnerable from the damage to his scarf and doesn't want to talk to anyone.

Cross saw through an open window a neighboring room where hundreds of garlands wrapped around prison bars. A mesmerizing sight. He heard a distant sound like a working generator and a faint smell of gasoline.

The rest decided to take a break from running away from the light show.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

[the-clawtake]

Visiting Officers Quarters,

Camp Månsdottir, Alshain

FEBRUARY 16, 3061

It was fortunate, Jehan thought as he straightened up, that whoever was knocking on his door had not done so any early. He had just finished his physiotherapy exercises, and had the knock come before he had, he would have ignored it.

Instead, reaching for the water bottle he had set on the side table, he called “Enter” and took a deep draught. When there was no response, he walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, stepping back as it slid open. He recognized one of the two men standing in the hall.

Star Colonel Stephan Huntsig commanded the 50th Striker Cluster, who were part of the garrison of Alshain, and specifically that part of the garrison that was based out of Camp Mansdottir, and as such he had command of the base. He was clad in his dress uniform, which was unusual. The warriors assigned to Camp Mansdottir typically spent their time in fatigues or battle dress.

The man standing behind him was best described as “Average”. Average height, average build. Facial features that would once have been described as “caucasian”, but aggressively average for that. Brown hair cropped short. The sort of man no one would give a second glance. Even his clothing was, for a civilian, average. A suit, but one that appeared off the rack, rather than tailored.

“Star Captain Jehan. A moment of your time, please.” Jehan nodded, stepping back and gesturing them into the small sitting room.

“I beg surkai. You have arrived at the end of my therapy exercises. I have not had time to clean, or dress.” Jehan glanced down at his bare torso, the swollen red lines of healing scars along his ribs. Star Colonel Huntsig took it in stride, and the other man with him seemed to be trying to follow the Star Colonel’s example. He was less successful; Jehan could see how the man’s gaze kept drifting to the healing scars. He ignored it, and took another drink from his bottle.

“Please, sit. How may I be of assistance?” He gestured at the small couch against one wall, preferring to remain standing. Huntsig took a seat, the other man following suit a moment later. That worthy stole a glance at Huntsig, who intercepted it, and nodded.

“Allow me to make known to you Mister Kriesel, Star Captain Jehan. Mister Kriesel comes to us from the Lyran Commonwealth, with some rather disturbing news.”

Jehan turned his gaze to the Lyran, silently absorbing the information.

“Ah... Yes. Uh... It’s actually... Leutnant Kriesel.” Kriesel straightened slightly. Some of the diffidence went out of his posture. “Leutnant Gregor Kriesel, Lyran Intelligence Corps.” Jehan nodded, his lips tight. He had not had a lot of experience with the Lyrans, their territory falling into the Wolf and Jade Falcon invasion corridors, but several of the Warriors under his command had grown up in Rasalhague before Operation REVIVAL and none of them had had anything good to say about the Commonwealth.

“Welcome to Alshain, Leutnant. I am Star Captain Jehan MacKenzie.” He gave the narrowest of bows, then took another swig from his bottle. “The Star Colonel says you have concerning news?”

“Ah, yes... It is... embarassing. For my government. But it seems that one of our nobles, a...” Here, Gregor pauses, and pulls a small black notebook from his breast pocket. He flips through it for a moment, then closes and replaces it. “One Anton DeSimon. Has taken it into his head to create a... Menagerie. Of sorts.”

Jehan frowned. So far this seemed a waste of time, but Huntsig seemed to think it worth his time, so he waited for the intelligence man to continue.

“A, ah. Menagerie. Of Totem Animals? For the Clans.” Well. Thought Jehan. That was certainly something. And it would do relations between the Commonwealth and the Clans little good, if it became public knowledge, but he did not see how that was his concern. Or indeed, why the Lyran Intelligence Corps would be giving the information to the Dominion. He gave Gregor an encouraging wave.

“Yes. Well. For the most part, he has been making motions to acquire the animals through legitimate avenues. He has apparently found a Jade Falcon merchant willing to part with a pair of their namesakes, and his factor has been in negotiations through the Star League Enclave on Huntress. But we have some evidence that he has decided to take a... shortcut. When it comes to the acquisition of Ghost Bears.”

Jehan took a deep breath as everything clicked. There was, at this point, a small but growing population of Ghost Bears on several planets within the Dominion, including, as it happened, Alshain. He had personal knowledge of that, in fact, his injuries having been caused by one during his recent participation in a Clawing ritual, one of the first to occur on the planet. But the populations were very small, and as such extremely well protected, legally. The only interference of them that was permitted was the Clawing ritual, and those were rare.

He caught Huntsig’s eyes with his own, and the Star Colonel nodded.

“It seems this DeSimon has put out feelers for an illegal hunt. To take a breeding pair of Ghost Bears alive and smuggle them off planet. Lyran Intelligence feels that this is a very good way to provoke an unsanctioned invasion of Commonwealth space by Dominion forces, and have tasked Leutnant Kriesel here with preventing that.”

Jehan barked a short laugh.

“Unsanctioned invasion? Aff, that is a good way to phrase that. Every Trueborn Warrior who could secure a Dropship and Jump transit would charge headlong. Even if we had to plough through the Wolves and the Falcons to do it.” His use of the word ‘we’ was not lost on either of his guests. He set his water bottle back down on the side table. Clasped his hands behind his back, set his feet shoulder’s width apart.

“So.” He asked. “When do we start?”

[shit-enmu-says]

Phantasmagoria: Chapter 8

CW for manipulation, unhealthy relationships, love bombing, blood/gore/death, and drug/alcohol use, neglect

Muzan (alias Shingetsu) continues his manipulation of Enmu and discovers another deeply buried secret. Meanwhile Enmu’s mental state deteriorates with each passing day.

It had been weeks since Enmu’s initial meeting with Shingetsu in the library. Since then, they met almost every night to the point he was scarcely home at all.

Shingetsu was a perplexing individual to say the least. In spite of his proclaimed fondness of Enmu, it seemed at times as if he wished to push him away. During the quiet hours of early morning, he’d pull Enmu close to him. Yet if Enmu got too comfortable, he made some excuse to get up or leave.

His demeanor could change in the blink of an eye. At times he was warm and engaging, speaking animatedly with him over anything from their research to their eventual escape. At others, he ignored Enmu entirely. It seemed this nothing he did, be it trying to engage him in conversation, taking better care of his appearance, or fetching him scroll after scroll from the endless shelves that lined the walls could get his attention.

Things had been that way for a couple of nights. Enmu stared down at his notes despondently. It brought him back to the days when he was young, doing anything he could think of to impress his Ayumu. Ayumu, who treated him at times as if he didn’t exist at all, particularly when he was younger. It seemed as if he only acknowledged Enmu’s presence to tell him off.

“Why does he ignore me all the time?” Enmu had asked his father on a rare day off, “He’s so cold to me. It’s like he hates me.” “Ayumu? Hate you? Nonsense,” his father had said, “He just doesn’t understand you. Sometimes I don’t understand you myself and that’s my own failing. Whatever inner demons you’re battling, it’s been hard on all of us, not just you.”

“You’ve been unusually quiet,” came a deep voice from behind him. Enmu turned around to see Shingetsu leaning over his shoulder. “How long have you been standing there?” Enmu asked, alarmed.

“Long enough. Something’s eating at you. Care to enlighten me or are you just going to stare at the ceiling all night?”

“So you see things that aren’t there?” Shingetsu asked, “That explains a lot.” Their notes lay forgotten on the other end of the table. A small cup filled with sake replaced the notebook Enmu had been holding.

He wasn’t sure why he agreed to this. He never cared much for alcohol. He disliked the taste of anything but plum wine and didn’t have much of a tolerance for the stuff. Still, it seemed impolite to decline Shingetsu’s offer.

Enmu knew he would regret this later. It was getting harder to think clearly already. He should really be more guarded around this man. Whatever they were, he didn’t know Shingetsu all that well. He felt compelled to open up to him but wasn’t sure why.

“Not just see,” Enmu said, rubbing his temples, “Sometimes I hear things. Or smell things.” “You smell things that aren’t there?” Shingetsu asked. “Sometimes,” Enmu mumbled, “Speaking of which have you seen any rats upstairs?”

“Rats? No. Why do you ask?”

“Sometimes when I go up to sweep the halls it smells like rotting flesh,” Enmu said, “I wondered if one had gotten trapped in the walls and died.”

Shingetsu stared at him. “No, I’ve never smelled anything of the sort,” he said, “Your cup’s empty. Let me pour you more.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I can drink anymore,” Enmu said, putting his hand in front of the raised tokkuri. He didn’t have much of a tolerance for the stuff as it was. If he continued drinking he’d have a migraine tomorrow. He eyed Shingetsu, frowning slightly. There was a cup in his own hands. He’d brought it to his lips a few times but it didn’t seem any less full. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking clearly.

Shingetsu placed his hand over Enmu’s, pushing it down until it was flat against the table. “Please,” Shingetsu said as he filled his cup once more, “I insist.”

Enmu’s pulse quickened as a chill went down his spine. He shivered, staring up at Shingetsu wide eyed. He could have sworn for a moment that as Shingetsu’s lips parted in a smile that he saw fangs. Enmu glanced down at the ground. Blood was spattered all over the table, the floor, and all over him.

“You dozed off again,” Shingetsu said. Enmu gasped, blinking furiously as he downed the contents of his cup in one gulp. It burned going down, but the pain helped him regain his focus.

“Ah, sorry,” Enmu said, rubbing his eyes, “I suppose I’ve just been tired lately.” Whatever he’d seen moments ago was gone. Shingetsu looked perfectly normal now. There was no blood on him or anywhere else, just the warm, flickering glow of candle light. Comfortable, safe, and mundane.

“You seem to do that a lot,” Shingetsu said. “Do what?” “Pass out.”

“Oh…that,” Enmu said feebly, “That’s another problem I have. Sometimes I have dreams so vivid I can’t tell if they’re real or not.” “That must make for a very interesting life,” Shingetsu replied. “That’s not the word I’d use,” Enmu sighed, “It just makes everything more difficult.”

“Is that so?” Shingetsu said, leaning forward. “It’s gotten me into trouble,” Enmu said, “My family used to live in a bigger house before our clinic had so many competitors. We were wealthier in those days. I dreamed we still lived there and wandered in. Scared the family who lived there now half to death.”

Enmu leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. The room was spinning. How could he possibly walk home in this condition? He had to go home this morning at least so Ayumu wouldn’t grow suspicious. “It’s caused other problems, too. Sometimes I’ll forget a patient’s appointment because I’ll dream I’ve already seen them.”

“It’s impressive you’re even able to work in this state,” Shingetsu said. “Ah, this is nothing,” Enmu replied, “Things aren’t nearly as bad as they used to be when I was younger.” To his surprise he found himself wishing for more sake. Perhaps one more cup would help purge those unpleasant images from his mind and allow him to sleep. Without even having to ask, Shingetsu poured him another cup.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “You don’t have to worry about me telling,” Shingetsu reassured him, “You seem to be holding this place together even with everything else going on.”

“Damn!” Shingetsu said, sitting up ramrod straight. He gathered his things, glancing around the room. “What’s the rush?” Enmu slurred, “I thought you were going to stay a while.”

“Can’t. Morning,” Shingetsu said as he buttoned his coat and put his hat on, “I have to leave now. I trust you’ll clean up down here.” “How can you tell it’s morning?” Enmu asked, swaying as he gripped the table’s edge to steady himself, “There aren’t any windows down here.”

Shingetsu’s back was to him. “I can feel it in my bones,” he said. “I’m sorry…what?” Enmu asked as he stumbled forward. “Never you mind,” Shingetsu said, as he made his way to the door.

As his pale hand gripped the door handle he glanced over his shoulder. “And Enmu?”

“Y-yes?” Enmu asked, face flushing. He wasn’t sure if it was the sake or the shock of Shingetsu calling him by his first name. To him he was always Doctor Tamio if he was addressed directly at all, nothing else.

“Don’t go upstairs today. Do you understand?”

[ambrossart]

DWM Writing Update + Preview #2

I'm heading out of town for Columbus Day weekend.

I was hoping to have the next DWM fic done before I left (which is now going to be more like 7-8,000 words 😂), but I'm still editing the last few scenes, so I'll finish it when I get back on Tuesday.

While I'm away, here's another little preview!

--------------

Four blocks away, Scott Sloman was dressed in his Sunday best and restlessly pacing his basement, which was now pristine thanks to his diligent efforts the day before. 

On that morning, Scottie had woken up early, consumed a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, and French toast (all prepared by his lovely mother, of course; Mrs. Sloman was an excellent cook), pulled on his rubber gloves, went downstairs, and got to work. It took him hours, but it was worth it. Every crumb, every cobweb, every splatter, every stain had been expertly tracked down and eliminated with the toughest chemicals money could buy. Now every surface sparkled radiantly, and the air carried a whimsical, woodsy scent that transported you to the crisp forests of New England—not that Scottie had ever been to New England, but he imagined that’s what its forests smelled like. 

He grabbed the can of EVERGREEN Air Freshener and gave it a vigorous shake.

“Do not spray that again,” Jeff told him. “You’re gonna give us all cancer.” 

“I’ll stop spraying when you guys stop smelling.” 

He pressed down hard on the nozzle and sprayed a thick cloud of EVERGREEN mist into the air. It showered over the table like a light drizzle of rain, getting on everyone’s hair, everyone’s clothes, and speckling the open page of Eddie Munson’s notebook. 

Eddie, who had been tuning everyone out and listening to music on his Walkman, now looked up with bewildered annoyance. “Dude, come on…” He fanned the remaining mist away with his hand and immediately went back to his notes. 

Observing him, Grant said to Jeff, “Damn, Eddie’s really in the zone today.”

It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to be this withdrawn. Eddie Munson took his D&D very seriously—perhaps a bit too seriously, although no one would ever dare tell him that. Before every session, while everyone else joked around and snacked on donuts and muffins (also prepared by Mrs. Sloman), Eddie sat quietly in his chair, the same chair he occupied for every session, and gradually slipped further… and further away. The Walkman, a gift from his uncle for his fourteenth birthday, only accelerated his emotional departure.

But he would return eventually. He always did. 

“You think he’s anxious about her coming?” Grant asked.

Jeff frowned guiltily. “Probably.” 

Beside Grant, Gareth was sharpening his pencil with a small metal pocket sharpener. From the look on his face, you would have thought he was honing a warblade. 

“He’s preparing his mind for battle,” Gareth said, his blue eyes burning with a ferocious and frightening intensity. “The enemy draws near. She will soon be at our gates.” He withdrew his pencil and blew fiercely on the pointed tip. “We must be ready to meet her.”

Jeff and Grant rolled their eyes. It was way too early in the morning for this. 

“She’s not the enemy,” Jeff said.

“Well, you’re a traitor,” Gareth replied. “Yeah, Eddie told me you’re the one who invited her, you Judas.”

“What? Oh c’mon, man, don’t start that now.” 

“How’d she do it?” Gareth asked. “Did she blackmail you? Bribe you? I didn’t realize your loyalty could be so easily bought, Jeff.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” 

Grant, ever the rational one, said, “Ignore him. Gareth’s just mad she beat him in the spelling bee last year.”

And that’s when Gareth fired back with unseemly anger: “She did not beat me in the spelling bee! That whole competition was rigged right from the start. Every round, she got the easiest words while I got stuck with all the hard ones. It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. I’m telling you, the whole thing was a sham!”

Jeff and Grant exchanged an amused glance. “My mistake,” Grant said while Jeff snickered. “Clearly you’ve moved on from this.” 

Gareth waved him off. “Oh shut up, Grant. Look, this is about way more than a spelling bee, okay? That girl is a heartless, horrible devil-woman. I will not break bread with her. I will not fight alongside her on the battlefield. I won’t, I won’t, and neither will Eddie.” Gareth clapped Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Right, Eddie?”

The older boy flinched, looked up, and pulled the left speaker box away from his ear. “What?”

“We’re standing together, right? Against our common enemy?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knitted together. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” 

And now Scott Sloman had heard enough. “Are you guys even listening to me? Come on, this is a huge moment for us… for me, especially. I need you all to be on your best behavior today. No burping. No farting. Sit up straight and keep your elbows off the table, gentlemen. Today, we have a young lady gracing our party.” 

Gareth sneered. “She’s no lady. She’s a hellbeast.”  

Scottie slammed his fist on the table. “See, this is the kinda shit I’m talking about! You psychos are gonna scare her off before she even—” He saw that Eddie had already put his headphones back on, an act of subtle but profound defiance. Scottie’s jaw dropped. “Eddie… Eddie… Hey, Eddie, I’m talking here.” 

“Leave him alone,” Jeff said. “He’s getting into character.” 

Scottie scoffed at that. “Oh please… Eddie uses the same character for every campaign. If he doesn’t know his character by now, he never will.” 

He snatched the Walkman off the table and yanked it away, viciously ripping the headphone jack from the plug. 

Eddie’s head jerked up in startled surprise. “Dude, what the fuck—” 

“I’m doing this for your own good, Eddie. It’s about time you learn how to socialize with the fairer sex.”

Eddie glared at him, exasperated. “I know how to talk to girls.” 

“Really?” Scottie shot him a dubious look. “Okay, Eddie… how many words have you said to that cheerleader you think’s so cute?” 

“Zero,” Grant answered for him. “He’s said zero words to her.”  

Eddie just sighed miserably. “Can I have my Walkman back, please?”  

“No, Eddie, you can’t,” and Scottie set the cassette player on the shelf behind him. “See, this is exactly my point, you guys. We have a huge opportunity here. A girl is coming to play D&D with us. And not just any girl. One of the popular girls! Do you guys understand what this means? If we play our cards right, maybe she’ll start bringing her friends. Her popular friends. Her pretty friends.” 

“Is that what you think’s gonna happen?” Jeff asked. “You think a bunch of cheerleaders are gonna wanna play D&D with you?” 

Scottie shrugged and said in a waning voice, “Well, you never know…”  

Eddie put his head in his hands. “I knew this was gonna happen. I knew this was gonna happen. She’s not even here yet and she’s already ruining the game.” 

“Hey, where is she, anyway?” Grant said. “It’s already after ten. Are we sure she’s even gonna show?” 

“She probably won’t,” said Gareth. He leaned back in his chair, satisfied and smug. “Yeah, I bet she chickened out like the coward she is. Screw her, I say we start without her.”  

“We’re not starting without her,” Jeff said. “Look, she’ll be here, okay?”

“Spoken like a true traitor.” 

“Dude, stop calling me a—” 

Suddenly, the doorbell chimed. The sound echoed over their heads like a distant warhorn on a cold, fog-covered battlefield. Gareth reached for his newly sharpened pencil and held it like a knife. 

“She’s here.”

[pokemon-researcher-alexander]

[A video begins with Alexander and Sage taking the stage. He sits next to an old-school projector, and starts pulling out slides that he has prewritten in both Sinnohan and Galarian.

We will be down on the floor for further questions, so please do not interrupt me at this time. And while we are amongst you, please do not pet any of my Pokémon. They are generally mistrustful of strangers, and I would prefer to avoid any incidents. Exceptions may be made on a case-by-case basis, but only if they approach you first and I give written approval. The three with me today are as follows:

Sage happens to be shiny, lending a bluish tint to his greenery. Note that, having evolved in the dead of a particularly harsh winter, he ended up coniferous, rather than deciduous, much to my dismay during pollen season. Typically, Leafeon subsist almost entirely on sunlight, with a few berries to supply other essential nutrients. Given that both these things were in short supply at his time of evolution, his occasional diet is more in line with the other Eeveelutions.

While it is more difficult to tell without a side-by-side comparison, he is also larger than average, and has a much denser undercoat, traits he shares with the next Pokémon.

Changing slides with one hand, he absentmindedly tosses out an Ultra Ball with the other as Sage steps back. The white light resolves into a Luxray, and there is immediate muttering at her unusual appearance. Alexander rests a hand on her back, and it vanishes into the fur.

There are three main features that people typically remember about battling line Luxrays; a piercing gaze, luxurious mane, and a long, short-furred tail. You will notice that, as a purely wild-bred specimen, rather than one with a battling line ancestor, Aspen only has the first of these traits.

Without the mane, her ears are seated fully on top of her head, to allow for a better range of motion. Like Spruce’s, they are smaller, to help limit heat loss, as is her tail. The beardlike ruff of fur also helps with that, in addition to protecting her throat. Her proportions may seem off, with longer back legs than front, and comically oversized, fuzzy feet, but these adaptations allow her to walk on snow and make large leaps.

In what is hopefully a planned demonstration, he takes the hand off her back, snaps his fingers once, then makes a few signs that come across as nonsense. Aspen seems to understand, though, padding to the other side of the stage before turning and springing nearly 9m from a standstill. She lays down where she lands, watching the crowd carefully.

Flipping to his last pair of slides, he drops a Luxury Ball in the space that she vacated. Upon seeing the ubiquitous purple-and-cream fur, the reaction is just as immediate, but far more frightful, with at least one aborted scream, and three people running out the door. Alexander sighs, as Spruce appears to be fully asleep.

No, he is not descented, as that is a cruel process that would ruin any chance of survival in the wild, but he will not spray anyone here unless severely provoked.

Spruce is not, as you might think, an unusually-patterned Stunky. He is actually an unusually-patterned Skuntank, despite only weighing some 4kg. Spotted Skuntank, named for the dot on their foreheads, are much more reclusive than their Striped cousins, who fear nothing with an olfactory sense.

In fact, most of our knowledge of them comes from game cameras, and speculations made via comparison with the Striped ones. They are less skilled diggers, but far superior climbers, and all around more agile. Perhaps the most striking result of this, when combined with the shorter tail, is that even the Skuntank perform a handstand as a threat display, something Striped Stunky grow out of as they approach evolution.

Gathering up his slides and notebook, he then drapes Spruce over his shoulders, and flanked by his other Pokémon, leaves the stage very quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.]

// If you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading, and two notes. Don't have much more time tonight, but I'll try to get to follow-up questions in the next week. And if any part of this violates your canon, please just disregard the post. I don't want this to start any IC arguments over whether or not subspecies exist; they do on this blog.

[educatioconnection]

Do Cast 139 fans exist

[rusakkowrites]

Time to retaliate! 🤗

For the headcanons: 🐅 for Mr Knightley

and 🗡️ for Emma :)

For the fic writing asks: 👀, 🏅,😈,🌙 ,👖,🌝

Thanks for the ask! <3 Answers under the cut.

🐅 Characterization: character habits, personality, etc. for Mr Knightley

This is a tough one! I do have a lot of thoughts and headcanons about Mr Knightley, but I’m not sure if any of them are particularly unusual. I suppose one thing where I might deviate from the norm in the fandom is that I’m not a huge fan of his characterisation in the 2020 film. I feel like he was made out to be a bit too… youthful, I guess? I also didn’t like the singing scene. I imagine him as being more staid and assured than he was in the film.

🗡 Fighting styles/combat for Emma

I think she’d be pretty useless in a fight! She’s always been very sheltered and protected, and her only sibling is so much older than she is that they probably never got into a real tussle. Emma would probably go into a fight really confidently but immediately discover that she’s in over her head. (And then Mr Knightley would rush to her rescue and scold her afterwards.)

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Nothing that I would censor due to the subject matter – and even if there was something I didn’t want to post on main, there’s always the option of using a secondary account or posting anonymously.

However, with multi-chapter stories, I’ve banned myself from posting any chapters before I’ve finished writing the entire fic. Even if I’m really close to the end when I start posting, it just stresses me out too much to see my buffer of chapters dwindling down while I’m still writing (and those last chapters always end up growing longer than I’d planned). So I guess that any WIPs that I don’t manage to finish are doomed to remain in the WIP folder forever.

🏅What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc)?

I’m really proud of all the work that I put into So Happy a Summer. I did have a good time writing it, but it wasn’t one of those stories that just flow out effortlessly – I had to push myself quite a bit to get it done. It was challenging but ultimately very rewarding.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

I have received one or two comments about skimping on the fluff when writing romantic scenes. I personally don’t really enjoy multi-paragraph love confessions or detailed descriptions of tongues battling for dominance, so I tend to leave a fair bit to the imagination in my romantic fics. This is how I like to write, so the readers who would like more fluff are out of luck. :D

🌙 What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

I would prefer to write in the morning, afternoon or early evening. However, I almost inevitably end up writing late in the evening or in the middle of the night instead. This is partly due to the fact that work interferes with my hobbies, partly because I have a terrible habit of procrastinating and partly because my creativity really seems to get going after 9 p.m.

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

A plantser who leans more towards planning than pantsing. Some of my short fics are more or less unplanned or only have a vague outline in my head. However, for longer fics, I need some kind of an outline, or else I write myself into a corner and get stuck. My outlines vary from a few bullet points in a notebook to detailed timelines of events and generally go through a lot of editing and refining as I write – if my original plan doesn’t quite work, I have no compunction about tweaking it.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I don’t think I’ve ever written anything about Sir Walter Elliot, but I feel that his character could be a lot of fun to explore! Also, I recently acquired a horrible plot bunny involving John Thorpe – can’t imagine why…

[tsuki-sennin]

A victory lap! One final issue with our heroes before the end! Our foe? Daijarg! Our mission? Protect the world one last time! And after that...?

Episode 50 of Hirogaru Sky! Pretty Cure~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-Ikuyo!

-One last time hearing this theme for the road...

-You've come such a long way from being an unusually athletic girl, huh Sora-chan?

-You've explored the surface world, battled monster after monster, made many unforgettable friends and memories along the way...

-And even when you wavered, you still kept your friends and family at the forefront of your mind.

-And uh... while I'm here, I might as well get my nitpicking outta the way.

-Uhhhhhh, I would've preferred if the villains all interacted with one another a lot more than they did, Captain Shalala's cool but a little underutilized, the supporting cast in general's just kinda... there a lot of the time...

-...that's it, really. I've gotten quite literally everything else I could've wanted from this season.

-Anyways, enough about me, FINAL BATTLE TIME WOOOOOO

-Spin that dangernoodle!

-You give a bad name to sneks everywhere.

-To you, dear Underg Generals... thank you!

-Not a form left to our names!

-OH FUCK INSERT

-This is everything

-One more time! For truth, justice, and a better tomorrow! Hirogaru Change~!

-Hirogaruuuuuuu

-Sekai Puuuuuuuuuuunch!

-"The only real power comes from inside, Skearhead! From courage, honor, and other things you wouldn't understand!"

-Precure! Majestic Halation!

-Now you understand your failure. Find peace in the next life, Skearhead.

-Hooooooome~!

-Hooooooly shit!

-Awwwww, Kaizerin...

-Adooooorable~!

-"Sorry. Comms filled atm."

-Peace and love for Skyland and Underg~!

-See, doesn't that feel nice?

-Hello, Captain Shalala! ...sorry I thought you were gonna pull a Nolan Grayson however many episodes ago.

-Beryberie... In another life, you'd have been one of my favorite Cures.

-Oh, the schoolmates too!

-...this is embarassing, but uh... I done forgot about you guys...

-D'aaaaawwww... Mashiron's gonna miss her husband~! Well, don't you worry.

-There's no such thing as goodbye forever, is there? Not when there's Transdimensional Technology~! Just uh... be careful not to accidentally unleash Weirdmageddon or something and we'll all be grand.

-God, it is so weird seeing Elle dwarf Tsubasa round the clock now.

-Never say that to me again.

-That's our town of Sorashido.

-...how very fortuitous of Sora to end up here, I just realized.

-Hmm.

-Our beloved Hero notebooks.

-Suppose we're gonna see you around, Granny Goodness. Er uh... Yoyo-san, sorry.

-My one regret is that I did not continue to lay down the Skyward Sword jokes, you'd have made a fantastic Impa.

-"I knew you were good kids the first time I saw you. :)"

-Hug your daughter, Mashiron.

-Auntie Ageha too~!

-Tsubasa-kun's got lunch...

-The Borb Sage...

-Oh???

-Yeaaaaaaah!

-Buddy, I say you're on your way.

-Off the princess and her retainer go.

-"So... like..."

-"Nah."

-142 TIMES

-MY GIRL REALLY TRACKED EVERY SINGLE INSTANCE OF HER HOLDING ANOTHER GIRL'S HAND BRO-

-Oh of course you're joking. You forgot a few digits, didn't you?

-"My hero..."

-Reviews in for Nijigaoka-sensei's latest picture book.

-"Charmingly written, beautifully drawn, exceptionally daring. Delightfully reaffirms everything one might love about their favorite superheroes. Hirogaru Sky makes its mark as one of the finest its esteemed lineage has to offer."

-Oh, hi!

-It's you assholes again, I see!

-Ageha Jumpscare

-Oh shit, the first ED again!

-Man...

-I'm exceptionally happy I got to enjoy this season.

-I suppose we'll see you all again sometime soon.

-Cure Sky jumps into action!

-WAN

-Cure Wonderful~!

-...I was gonna fucking use that name, but that's okay~!

-Now it's time for me to pack up and move to Animal Town... wherever that is... See you all on Feb 4th, I suppoooooooose~!

[mrwho444]

Well, about him.

Nickname: Perrault Sans.

Name: ???

Birthday: 28 March.

Height: like a classic Sans.

Personality:

★ Smart but quiet. Very careful in his actions. Thinks through every detail. Overly dreamy. Sometimes he can get lost in space, thinking. it's not because he has a bad memory, he just gets distracted a lot. Knows psychology. Studies the behavior of monsters during battles and identifies strengths and weaknesses, writing everything down in a notebook. He's neutral. He believes that balance is needed in everything. He knows how to keep himself under control, but there are shifts. Despite the fact that he seems to be overly kind, he is serious and can even attack.

He considers himself an observer. He likes to follow all the monsters and learn something new. With the help of his notepad, he writes down new information about the creatures. He is knowledgeable and knows a lot of AU. However, few people know about its existence. All this is because he is quite quiet, although he likes to have fun and meet new characters. But he himself has few friends, because he is on his own. He has a certain distrust and it is difficult for him to get attached to anyone.

History:

His universe was destroyed a long time ago. He doesn't know who could have done it, as the memory has blocked this information due to injury. However, the only thing he remembers is how Gaster, before AU was destroyed, gave him a certain notebook with weapons and told him that he needed to find his brother, and that he was still alive. After it was over, Sans woke up in the middle of a huge oak tree. His size was shocked. Perrault tried to recover for a long time, but soon he learned how to use portals and walk through universes. The tree turned out to be a power source for energy, and the feather as a kind of switch, and just with the help of all this, Sans could travel.

However, every time he traveled through the worlds, he returned to this magical tree, because it was the only place where he could feel safe. And he was waiting for his brother. After all, they promised each other that if anything, they would meet just in this place. And Perrault just waited.

Abilities:

Usually he doesn't like to fight, because he doesn't see the point in it, but if he needs to, he will, of course, protect himself.

★ Basically attacks like classic Sans. However, with the exception of this, new attacks appear:

— Feather-sword his almost the main attack. This unusual weapon comes exclusively with a set of notebooks. This sword can be transformed and even improved at the request of the owner. However, with the latter, Perrault does not know how.

— The gaster blasters are exactly the same as the classic one, one is modified by design: The pupils are completely different: blue on the left eye, and yellow on the right. It releases light with a blue-yellow hue.

— Normal dice are yellow during an attack.

About Feather-sword:

This weapon can transform from a huge sword into a small writing pen. The sharp sword itself is made of hard metal, however it can change the property of the material.

Interesting facts:

★ He hides his notebook in the fur.

★ The first person he met after the first exit to other universes was Froggit. Then he started writing everything down in a notebook.

★ He has a lot of fears, such as the fear of losing his mind.

★ Sometimes he forgets his birthday. It seems to him that there is no point in celebrating it.

★The only one he knows personally and can consider comrades: scientific Sans and Geno Sans.

★ Occasionally he gets melancholy.

★He is associated with the holiday of April 6.

That's it! I hope someone will appreciate it. It wasn't easy for me to create it....

★ Perrault is his made—up name. In fact, he does not remember what his real name is, as well as his brother.

★His hobby: writing. Therefore, sometimes he likes to write down descriptions of monsters in a notebook in verse.

★ Periodically, past events come to him in a dream, but he forgets everything.

_________________________________________

Псевдоним: Перраульт (Перро).

Настоящее имя: ???

День рождения: 28 Марта.

Рост: как и у классического Санса.

Личность:

★Умный, но тихий. Очень осторожен в своих действиях. Продумывает каждую деталь. Чересчур мечтательный. Иногда он может заблудиться в пространстве, размышляя. это не потому, что у него плохая память, просто он часто отвлекается. Разбирается в психологии. Изучает поведение монстров во время сражений и выявляет сильные и слабые стороны, записывая все в блокнот. Он нейтрален. Он считает, что баланс необходим во всем.Умеет держать себя под контролем, однако бывают сдвиги. Несмотря на то что он кажется, что он чрезмерно добрый, он серьезен и может даже атаковать.

Он считает себя наблюдателем. Ему нравится следить за всеми монстрами и узнавать что-то новое. С помощью своего блокнота он записывает новую информацию об этих существах. Он хорошо осведомлен и знает много нового. Однако ��ало кто знает о его существовании. Все это потому, что он довольно тихий, хотя ему нравится веселиться и знакомиться с новыми персонажами. Но у него самого мало друзей, потому что он сам по себе. У него есть определенное недоверие, и ему трудно к кому-либо привязаться.

История:

Его вселенная была разрушена давным-давно. Он не знает, кто мог это сделать, так как память заблокировала эту информацию из-за травмы. Однако единственное, что он помнит, это то, как Гастер, прежде чем АС был уничтожен, дал ему некую записную книжку с оружием и сказал ему, что ему нужно найти своего брата, и что он все еще жив. После того, как все закончилось, Санс проснулся посреди огромного дуба. Его размер был шокирован. Перро долго пытался прийти в себя, но вскоре научился пользоваться порталами и перемещаться по вселенным. Дерево оказалось источником энергии, а перо - своеобразным переключателем, и только с помощью всего этого Санс мог путешествовать.

Однако каждый раз, путешествуя по мирам, он возвращался к этому волшебному дереву, потому что это было единственное место, где он мог чувствовать себя в безопасности. И он ждал своего брата. В конце концов, они обещали друг другу, что в случае чего встретятся именно в этом месте. А Перро просто ждал.

Особенности:

Обычно он не любит драться, потому что не видит в этом смысла, но если ему нужно, он, конечно, защитит себя

★ Обычно у него атаки теже самые, что и у классика, однако появляются и новые:

— Перо-меч его чуть ли не главная атака. Это необычное оружие поставляется исключительно с набором записных книжек. Этот меч может быть трансформирован и даже улучшен по желанию владельца. Однако с последним Перро пока не умеет.

— Гастер блистеры такие же,но у них иной дизайн: на левом глазу голубой зрачок, а на правом — золотой.

— Кости в атаках золотого цвета.

О перо-мече:

Это оружие может превратиться из огромного меча в маленькую ручку для письма. Сам острый меч сделан из твердого металла, однако он может изменять свойства материала.

Интересные факты:

★ Свою тетрадь он прячет в меху, так как ему удобнее.

★ Первый персонаж после разрушения его вселенной с кем он познакомился был Фроггит. После этого он начал исследовать других монстров.

★ У него много страхов, как например, страх потерять рассудок.

★ Персонажи с кем он лично повстречался и имеет более-менее нормальные взаимоотношения: Научный Санс и Гено Санс.

★ Он связан с 6 апрелем.

★ Перраульт — это его выдуманное имя. На самом деле, он не помнит как его на самом деле зовут, так же как и самого его брата.

★ Его увлечение: писательство. Поэтому иногда он любит писать стихами описания про того или иного монстра.

★ Переодически во сне он вспоминает о прошлом, но под утром совершенно не помнит.

That's it! I've been working on this description for a long time. I hope someone will appreciate it. Good luck. :)

На этом всё! Я долго старался над этим описание. Надеюсь, что кто-то оценит. Удачи. : )

[eldritchtouched]

Likewise, the "winner" of the various detectives is the character (Near) who points out that this is actively a bad power. L is too focused on his competition with Light and the mind battle stuff and Mello is, well, Mello.

However, Near does go out of his way to point out that Light is behaving in an unusual way compared to what an average person, or even a selfish person, would do:

"No. You... are just a murderer. And this notebook here is the worst murder weapon in the history of mankind. If you had been a normal person... and used this notebook once out of curiosity... you would have been surprised and scared of what happened, and regretted what you had done. And never used this notebook again. To speak of extremes... I can actually understand those who would use this notebook for their personal interests and kill a couple of people, and even think that they're normal. But you have yielded to the power of this notebook and Shinigami and have confused yourself with a god... You're just a crazy mass murderer. Nothing more. And nothing less."

Which does have implications that the theme isn't just about the unbridled ability to kill people. Yes, the power is awful, but the story itself goes out of its way to point out that most people wouldn't use it in the way Light did. Light's shit takes ideology, which loops into a larger sociological discussion about what those ideas are. What justice is it that Light is seeking in this mass murder?

To assume Light is normal implies all humans, if given the power to instantly kill people like the Death Note does, would take it and use it like that. It ignores the social context of where those ideas come from, and that a lot of people don't have the ideological view that they need to murder all of the Other (however that person defines it) in order to fix the world. It's scapegoating in a way fascists do it- blame one's problems on and then kill a scapegoat, and not dealing with larger sociological or structural inequities causing problems. This results in a race to the bottom, as no matter how many scapegoats one kills, you didn't actually fix shit because the scapegoats weren't the actual problem.

I think it's important to remember that Light starts out with killing people generally seen as irredeemable by most of carceral societies- major criminals on death row. However, as time goes on, it shifts. People chasing after him (for interfering with "justice"). People with lesser crimes to their names like petty theft. People who criticize him. Light also muses about eventually killing the "lazy" at some point (read: what Nazis called "useless eaters," so that would be the disabled, the elderly, etc.).

Likewise, when talking about the other Kiras, ideology does play a role. For example, Misa and Mikami Teru are driven by similar, though not the same, stuff, as they are functioning as Light's cult members. I think that matters quite a lot. Mikami is driven by his view that Light is a god, and Misa has a very parasocial thing going on where she set out to help and meet him because he was doing mass murders. They have to ideologically agree with the idea that killing people to improve society is a thing that can actually work. (And such dynamics are hardly "power of love" type shit in any typical definition.)

i don't know how you can "the curtains are just blue! ACAB lol" fucking Death Note of all pieces of media

this is a show for thirteen-year-old boys. the only writers I've seen who are less subtle about what they're going for were fucking Victorians.