#seriously these are up for grabs

[asvidema]

You learned: >Roman Catholic Church >Feudalism >Nobility

i just made this moment in the game cheekier, don't mind me

[bored-butneverboring]

christening this sideblog with the companion art piece i did for my upcoming anxienn human au fic. UPcoming cuz i had the initial beta read done but haven't started the second draft LMAO

[satsuha]

some doodles i did while/after playing... i'm practically done with the game after 80 hours but i might explode from not talking about/drawing spoilers

extra/special subjob outfit spoilers below:

[billdenbrough]

cannot possibly express enough how strange this one is. ok. @naturecalls111 prompted me (technically for microfic monday, but it was quickly determined to be untenable) kevaaron + frogs. there was an additional, informal element to the prompt she wanted that rocketed it from 488w (already egregious) to 1.6k (don't look at me), but i'm already wrestling with my psyche enough abt this one lmao. we'll leave that part to be a surprise so i don't have to think about it anymore HAHA. i guess. anyway. kevaaron + frogs, for mina.

“This is your fault,” Aaron says.

Kevin is affronted. “How could this be my fault!”

“Nobody cares enough about what I do to curse me,” Aaron points out, huffy. As huffy as a frog can be, anyway. “But you? Absolutely. You’re also really annoying.”

Kevin sulks.

“How sure are you?” Neil asks, following Nicky into the room. “I mean. Frogs?”

Nicky gives him an incredulous look, then snatches Kevin off the desk. Kevin makes the world’s most indignant croak, which everyone rudely ignores, except Aaron, who rolls his eyes.

“He has a queen mark,” Nicky exclaims, brandishing Kevin at Neil. “What kind of frog has a tattoo?”

Neil stares at it, then sighs. “Okay. Sure. Why not. So it’s Kevin. How do you know it’s Aaron with him?”

“Kevin wouldn’t leave without him, so it had to be one of us,” Nicky explains. Kevin thinks this is an optimistic reading of his character. “Which already probably meant Aaron, but I’ve confirmed he’s the only one also missing. So.”

“How did this happen?” Neil muses, sitting down on Kevin’s bed. His bed is right there. Kevin strongly considers kicking him. Except he doesn’t have the right feet.

Almost immediately after he has that thought, his mouth opens—without his express permission—and his tongue goes flying, a projectile aimed right at Neil’s face.

Neil barely manages to dodge, throwing up his arms and falling backwards quickly enough that Kevin’s tongue narrowly misses his skin. (Thank God.) 

Nicky squawks, dropping Kevin, who thankfully lands on the desk. Aaron is watching Neil with interest. And Kevin—

Kevin is just pleased his aim and ability to forcibly correct Neil’s behaviour is still intact.

“Oh, gross,” Nicky complains. Neil looks relatively unruffled, though he shoots Kevin a slight glare before moving to his own bed. Thank you.

“Yep, that’s Kevin,” Neil mutters. “I wonder how Aaron got wrapped up in this.”

Nicky cocks his head.

“Assuming turning people into frogs is a real thing—which, okay, yeah—then I have to assume it doesn’t happen randomly,” Neil says. “And as annoying as Aaron can be—” Aaron rolls his eyes. Again. “—It’s gotta be Kevin, right? The reason?”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Nicky says immediately. Which is so rude.

“Maybe they were together?” Neil muses aloud.

“Or it’s like a fairytale,” Nicky says. At Neil’s confused—and slightly judgemental—look, he elaborates, “You know, like, The Frog Prince! Or The Frog Princess! Or—that movie coming out, the Princess and the Frog!”

“This is too many frogs,” Neil mutters, but looks attentive. “So what’s the common theme? Other than frogs.”

“You know, normal fairytale stuff,” Nicky says, waving his hands through the air. On the desk beside Kevin, Aaron has gone still. It’s weird that Kevin can tell—it’s not like Aaron was especially mobile in the moments prior, after all—but paying attention to Aaron isn’t that big of a surprise, these days. “True love’s kiss, all that.”

Neil goes still too.

Aaron is looking at Kevin, gaze watchful, eyes intent.

Kevin looks away. Unfortunately, this means he’s looking at Neil, who is observing him with a calculating expression. At least Neil can’t expect a response, Kevin thinks. Small victories.

“Well,” Neil says. Kevin assumes he’s talking to Nicky—as strange as Neil is, conversing with a frog is probably out of even his realm of behaviour—but he’s still looking at Kevin. Ugh. “That might explain it.”

“Huh?” Nicky asks.

Kevin cannot look at Neil anymore.

Aaron is still looking at him.

“Neil frequently has bad ideas,” Kevin says, a pre-emptive defence.

“I don’t disagree,” Aaron says. It’s fucking weird. He’s a frog. Green and disproportionate legs—maybe he should try keep those when they get back to normal, Kevin thinks, suddenly daydreaming of a genuinely tall defence line; and then his thoughts shift a little to the left, Aaron’s knobbly knees but now they’re green and his calves are endless, pressing against Kevin, and wow, okay, Kevin is shelving that one before he gets too anatomically-confused, what the fuck—but still so Aaron. It still feels the same, him looking at Kevin, and now there’s something in Kevin’s throat to swallow past. He’s not even sure if he still has a throat, technically.

Neil and Nicky are still talking in the background, a buzzing noise that Kevin can’t focus on.

“Fairytales aren’t real,” Kevin says.

“We are frogs,” Aaron enunciates. Which is a reasonable counterpoint.

“This is ridiculous,” Kevin mutters.

“Kevin,” Aaron says. This is going to do something insane to Kevin’s dreams, he thinks, dismayed. Aaron croaking his name, and it being completely understandable. Life is so hard.

“Ugh,” Kevin says. His tongue goes flying past, apparently the frog equivalent of throwing one’s arms up in exasperation.

Aaron watches it go past, then looks at Kevin. If they were normal, he thinks Aaron’s eyebrow would be raised, or face tilted to the side, or something to that effect. People don’t think of either twin as especially expressive, but Kevin knows Aaron’s face, has mapped all its mountains and shifting planes. He misses it, suddenly, fiercely. More than the consistent pulse of exasperation and disbelief at their situation, the underlying desire to get back to normal. It’s an active, immediate thing: he wants to see Aaron’s face again, a deep-seated ache.

“Careful,” Aaron says. “If you keep throwing that tongue around, I won’t let you put it in my mouth.”

Kevin chokes. His tongue tangles itself on the way back into his mouth, his eyes bulge, and he makes a sputtering noise. Neil and Nicky don’t even pause their discussion.

If there’s a way for a frog to look calm in the wake of their friend (?)—also a frog—almost dying in response to an implication of flirtation, Aaron does.

“Aaron,” Kevin wheezes, once he’s got his tongue safely back inside his mouth and has reminded himself how to be a person.

“Kevin,” Aaron returns. He sounds so calm. So sure. And Kevin still knows him, down to his bones, but in this body, he can’t figure out his tells as easily. He can’t watch the movement of his knee, the furrow of his brows, the curling of his fingers into a fist. There’s no jaw to tighten, no hair to run his hands through, and while he still has eyes, they’re not ones that Kevin has memorised the way they soften.

“Is that a joke?” Kevin asks.

“We’re frogs,” Aaron reminds him. “We’re already the joke.” Before Kevin can decide how he feels about that, Aaron says, “Kissing you? Sure. Why not. Worth a shot.”

“Why not,” Kevin echoes. “Worth a shot.”

Aaron looks at him again. Kevin thinks maybe this is what it looks like for a frog’s eyes to soften, but who knows? Maybe he’s just looking for what he wants to see.

God, this whole thing is fucking ridiculous, but maybe the most unsettling part has been realising how much he misses seeing Aaron’s face. He’s gone longer without seeing it, obviously, it’s just—he’s never had to look at Aaron without it being Aaron. He can’t explain it better than that.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” Aaron says suddenly, “if it were a fairytale.”

Kevin blinks. (Oh, that was weird.) He thinks that over.

“Oh,” he says, then smiles. He thinks he smiles. He’s not really sure what his mouth is doing. It’s unnervingly large in relation to the rest of his body.

“Oh,” Aaron echoes, but he hops closer. One hop. Two. His legs are very strong, Kevin notes, but then he stops thinking about it, because Aaron is really close.

Kevin cannot believe he’s maybe—probably—almost certainly—about to kiss Aaron for the first time. And they’re fucking frogs.

Kevin hops that last step, moving in closer.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes again. Kevin has never seen a frog do that before, though jury’s out as to whether that’s because normal frogs can’t, or because Aaron Minyard brings a level of exasperation previously unknown amongst the species.

Kevin leans in, and kisses him. It’s the weirdest sensation he’s ever had—their bodies are approximately 30% mouth right now, which is a lot to deal with—but then Aaron’s mouth is open a little, and Kevin’s weird, powerful tongue darts in and tangles with Aaron’s.

This is fucking insane, Kevin thinks, and then there’s a sudden whoosh of air through the room, and suddenly the desk crashes and he and Aaron are sprawled across each other on the floor.

Human.

And naked.

“Oh my god,” Nicky says. “You’re back!” And then, tilting his head at Kevin, “And naked.”

“We’re leaving,” Neil announces, grabbing Nicky by the elbow and tugging him out of the room. His expression is dismayed. “I don’t want to see you today,” he says over his shoulder, which Kevin would like to apply to Aaron, but probably mostly means him.

Aaron is beneath Kevin, which luckily means his modesty is protected, given his usual hangups (Aaron and Neil often tell Kevin that it’s not that everyone else has hangups, but that Kevin is entirely too open with nudity; Kevin largely ignores this); unfortunately, it does mean Kevin landed on him, and now he’s groaning.

Kevin gets off him, then looks at him. At his face. God. He missed that face.

“Why are you staring at me?” Aaron grumbles.

“After everything that just happened, that’s your question?” Kevin asks, incredulous. Fucking fond, because of course it is.

“Everything else has a root cause of you being annoying,” Aaron says. “This—”

Kevin leans in, cupping Aaron’s jaw with one hand.

Aaron shuts up.

“Take a guess,” Kevin says. His voice is – soft. Too soft to hide behind.

There’s so much going on Aaron’s face, eyes quick, expressive, roving all over Kevin’s, taking him in, figuring him out. Then his expression clears.

“You’re so annoying,” Aaron says, and then he surges up and kisses Kevin.

It’s much better, Kevin thinks, getting to do this as them.

[webstersdiary]

THE LAST PATROL THE MUSICAL

[isthe-protag-cluelesstho]

Okay, probably not a hot take, but imma scribble about it anyway,

I honestly think Cale Hetinuse/Kim Rok Soo has chronic pain/fatigue.

Like, everybody loves the whole coughing up blood/wet meow meow thing he's always doing, but personally? People who are that nonchalant about Shit Happening To Their Body, are typically people who are waaaaay too used to Fucked Up Shit Happening To Their Body,

It's just a head canon, but as someone who is chronically in pain, I absolutely do some of the stupid shit CH/KRS does, like carrying stuff I should NOT be carrying, or continuing to Do Things even when I should be sitting and resting. I also know several people who (like me) can be experiencing level 4-5 pain and not show a hint on their face/through their actions besides maaaaybe moving a bit slower/stretching more

And we know KRS has been on his own since he was itty bitty... And then he grew up in a world hell bent on killing everyone. I can't help but think that a tiny child with no one to help him with the general cuts/bruises/little hurts of childhood would 1) have zero frame of reference for what "okay" actually looks like 2) probably has never really received medical care beyond emergency assistance (which does jack for chronic conditions) and 3) has NEVER really had someone in his life long enough for them to catch his way of coping with pain (my very close friends can hear when I'm hurting/tired, everyone else only notices if I am visibly incapacitated)

So, Kim Rok Soo ends up in a world/body that "technically" hasn't experienced his life, HOWEVER fibromyalgia and PTSD are like goddamn pb&j. It's a condition that is deeply tied to a body's stress response. And what does Cale say once he has the Heart? "I feel BETTER"

And that just speaks to me of a person who is so used to pain, that it no longer really registers... I had daily headaches for 7 years, it wasn't until I moved and got a new primary that I found out that more than 4 headaches in a month was considered a concern... I got on some migraine meds and actually stopped having that daily headache, something id just accepted as "how my body works" gone,

I personally don't consider pain at a 1-2 as particularly bothersome, it's more like a general annoyance. Onces it's up to 6-7 it's hard for me to move, and yet I often will still do so, despite the pain. It's only at 9-10 so I stop moving entirely and focus on just weathering it. Usually when that happens, I sleep so much after as my body tries to recover.

And when I read Cale, so casually continuing forward, despite the work he takes on himself, after the constant planning and prepping and ass kicking, all I see is a person who has lived so long with his body's suffering that it's just background noise. Yeah, he coughed up some blood, but the pain is back to "normal" so how can he raise a fuss? He killed 3 monsters with a dislocated shoulder that one time, this? This is easy. And despite claiming his body is weak, he refuses to truly accept the help and rest he needs because (like I used to) Cale thinks "this is just how my body works"

Sometimes, I cannot remember how I lived prior to my pain. Sometimes, I cannot imagine a world where I do not spend half the night attempting to force my muscles to relax, so I can actually sleep. I cannot imagine a world where I am able to do everything I want in a day and not collapse at the end. And I see so much of myself in how Cale continues to move despite the weight of the ancient powers, the expectations of the gods and his own personal hopes. He seems like a character doomed to continue walking, his bones broken but refusing the care because whats the point if everything still hurts the same way in the end?

Anyway, Raon should invent a cure for chronic illness and force Cale into a year long sabbatical

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[randomwriteronline]

Oh btw. Things that make me insane:

this Entire Fucking Chapter never fails to have me going absolutely rabid with happiness but specifically i did distinctly remember that Kopaka smiled in this occasion - not smirked, smiled, which is something that i dont think he does often especially in the first few books. On my first read I wholly believed he would have turned around and thrown something directly at Pohatu's head while yelling at him but no, he hears his voice and his first reaction is Pure Unbridled Joy

He was so relieved he literally forgot that hes the cold distant one and actually expressed an uncompromisingly positive feeling of care. I choose to believe he smiled so honestly that he was literally radiant. Like looking directly at the sun. Blinded everybody in a twenty five km radius for one singular hot second.

And then of course he went SHIT WAIT MY COOL DISTANT GUY PERSONA

[revserrayyu]

One HSR Character a Day Extra 3 (Day 54): Feixiao

[fisherrprince]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

[blujayonthewing]

at christmas I pulled out my knife to cut some tape on a box and my mother-in-law said, with complete sincerity, "there's a child in the room..."

ma'am he's ten months old and strapped into his bouncy seat, do you think I'm going to hurl it at him

[maironscrotchlessbreeches]

Adar fic sample whaaaaaaaaaaat

Oh it's ON. This is going to wind up being a long-ass motherflinger with a VARIETY of Adar ships but since this is a scene that stands alone pretty well here you go. The famous wine date on the mountain. No actual boinking but lots of hot and bothered.

---

The sound of the wind had changed.

He lifted his face from the stone floor, cold-cracked lips parted. Icy air drew tears from his reddened eyes.

How long had he lain there, chained within a crevice on that dark, nameless peak? He had lost track long ago, and ceased caring shortly thereafter.

He thought he heard footsteps hidden in the roar of the wind. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled his naked form even tighter, remembering the wicked cruelty in Melkor’s angelic face. The rebirth, the blessing would come, he repeated to himself as he had so many times before, if he could only persist.

Warmth. The scent of incense and clove. He opened his eyes.

Before him, barefoot in the snow, stood the most frighteningly beautiful being he had ever beheld. Not an elf like he, but similar in form to one, with eyes the color of sunlit honey and hair like the finest spun copper.

Without a word this not-an-elf knelt, offering a silver chalice. Heat radiated from its graceful body and the fragrance grew heady. He raised his filthy body into a pitiful crouch. He saw that the chalice held rich, vibrant red wine and he reached to take it with both trembling hands. The not-an-elf smiled and helped him tip the liquid to his parched lips, its other hand gently supporting the back of his neck.

The wine was thick, with an odd musky tang, but it freed his tongue from the roof of his mouth and he swallowed desperately.

“Slowly, Galgakh,” the being said with a laugh like a choir of bells, its voice soft and warm as summer rain. “You’ll make yourself ill.”

Galgakh. Ill. He did not understand these words.

His rescuer settled alongside him and removed the chalice from his reach. The world around him seemed to spin and something lurched deep within his guts, a new sensation. But he was finally warm, and slightly less thirsty. He felt the sumptuous texture of the being’s cloak drape around his shoulders and he collapsed into waiting arms, his body wracked with soundless sobs.

With elegant hands the not-an-elf stroked his dark, snarled hair, cradling his head to its chest. Uncounted moments passed. His head swam and he reached for the chalice of wine. It found his hands and he downed the rest of it, not caring about the rivulets that trickled around the corners of his mouth.

Jeweled fingers found the soft flesh under his jaw and lifted his chin. Those otherworldly eyes, like amber lit from within, so close now that he could see delicate ginger lashes, searched his face with a hunger that matched the gnawing in his belly.

“Galgakh,” the stranger murmured.

Now he understood. This was his name. The warm flutter of breath on his cheek raised bumps on his arms.

Galgakh’s savior pressed its lips to his, impossibly soft yet fierce and wanting. A tremor rippled down his spine and he suddenly felt like his skin was too tight to contain his flesh. A dull ache, not unpleasant, kindled like a flame low between his hips and began to grow. His fëa was silent but his heart pounded like a drum in his chest. Galgakh returned the kiss with ravenous intensity, basking in this intoxicating flood of physical sensation. He tasted blood but whose it was, he could not say. A breath caught in his throat and became a groan, the sound of it surprising him with its decadence. He felt his partner smile, flirtatious, arrogant even, but approving.

Just as Galgakh’s hands began searching for an opening to the fine crimson robes before him, he found himself pushed away. That face of unearthly beauty was smeared with - blood? Wine? He could not tell, but the thought slipped from his mind as easily as it had come.

“Enough.” The silky voice was firm but coy. “This place is not for you. Come. Your family awaits.”

“Wait,” Galgakh said, his voice hoarse from disuse. “What am I to call you?”

The perfect form was already standing and turning to leave. It paused and glanced at Galgakh with a radiant smile.

“I am Mairon.”

[liquidchocolatecake]

currently captive audience to a knock down drag out fight in my brain between desire to respect the wishes of the creator and not look for anyone redistributing the comic and god i fucking miss wonderlab i miss wonderlab so much you have no idea i want wonderlab back so bad

[allyricas]

sometimes i still think about allison argent and cry a little

[hahniana]

Diavolo could've worn a fursuit. To keep his identity hidden. You know.

[cxpperhead]

SPOILERS AHEAD if you've ever watched T.he D.ragon P.rince but after all this time, I may have finally found a voiceclaim for Copperhead? Everything about it just *chef's kiss* from the quiet, calm way the character talks which is very much in line with how Copperhead communicates! Consider Aaravos this boy's new VC!