#swa stuff

[superemeralds]

gaia temple drawings i made in 2022 for @sonicworldadventurezine (which you can download for free)

[daisyofwaterdeep]

"#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS" "#this straight up cured my gale-related brain block" "#my heart is so full and happy and warmmmm"

Then my mission was accomplished! 🫶 Follow your bliss!

Oh! Here are few other things for you to consider for your writing that I hope you might also find helpful (do whatever you want with this information):

•Apparently, Tara can speak regardless of Speak With Animals.

•Tara wears an amulet in-game called Tressym Collar, a very rare magic item, and its item description is, "The gem in this collar's centre is placed as a common courtesy: it allows the tressym's summoner to be identified and complained to in the case of bereaved pet owners or pigeon-masters. This one glows with a Waterdhavian name: Gale Dekarios." and it allows the wearer to cast Telekinesis once per long rest.

•Apparently, Tara can (and will) cast Fireball.

•Tara evidently loves to eat pigeons, but you can also trade fish with her for certain magic items in-game.

Now go! Be free and write to your heart's content! 🤗 (also, what you've already wrote is adorable)

waitwaitwait okay so the Speak With Animals thing....I know that when I meet Tara on the roofs, I can't understand what she's saying. Gale and her can have a convo, but for me, she just meows. If you reload and take a potion, you're then able to understand her. But then, iirc at the epilogue party you don't need one. I had assumed they just did that bc you can't buy items at that point, and they didn't want you to accidentally lock yourself out of the conversation.

so are you telling me that she chooses not to talk to you on the rooftops, unless you put in some effort? If you just waltz up to her, she essentially plays dumb. You have to actually make an effort to communicate with her in order for her to speak with you.

Thinking of it that way, it's almost like a test. "Here's this stranger getting chummy with Mr. Dekarios. Will they treat me like some dumb animal or will they try to talk with me on equal footing?"

Tara's the best omg

[swasdoodles]

I broke 500 uploads over on dA recently so I drew a quick Loreley celebration thing.

[tlacehualli]

[ SLEEVES ] : sender rolls up their sleeves to reveal their forearms. – forgive Dez, her arms are just about all she’s got going for her ahshd.

Armed with a soldering iron, safety glasses, a mask, and gloves, she's feeling and looking super professional. Maybe the gauges and the undercut and the brightly dyed hair took away from it somewhat but whatever, it wasn't as if she graduated primary school. Her tongue's sticking out underneath the mask as she cautiously leans in to get a better look at the exposed wire in the rubble.

Or, the reason why approximately a quarter of Junkertown didn't have lights right now. "SWA would have your ass if they could see this." She was half-joking, the other half had no idea how all of them hadn't been electrocuted by now. But she's working diligently regardless, replacing lengths of damaged cables, isolating different sections from the current so she wouldn't fry herself either.

"Tch. Think there's something fucky down that way..." Sombra reached purple hardlight into the exposed wire just to confirm her suspicions and then nodded. She got up from her half-kneeling position and patted the rubble in her way. "You mind, chica? Just did my nails, you know." As if fucking around with wires hadn't already messed them up, but still, Dez would get the job done faster.

She did feel privileged a queen (even a self-proclaimed one), was just going around lifting shit for her. It made her self-satisfied like a cat. Until Dez rolled up her sleeves so as to not get them torn while she eased rubble out of the way to further damaged sections. Overall, a very upsetting experience. It was a hot day and left a sheen of sweat on everybody, even Sombra, and her arms looked really nice. In that moment, she was thankful for the lab safety she'd drilled into her head long ago - her mask was hiding burning cheeks.

Blushing at arms (? since when was that a thing for her) at her big age is crazy.

"That should be fine, let me just - " She sends out a few hardlight threads. "Yep. Coolokaythankyou." It all comes out in one word and she moves in to kneel in front of the freshly exposed wires and begins working on them too. One of the greatest advantages of having a computer in your brain was the added RAM, kept her running even during unexpected gay panic. "Approximately how many times has this thing electrocuted people, I'm honestly dying to know."

[poptartmochi]

your honor. i think my current insurance card is only intended for use in kuwait and nearby countries... 😳;

[peachylixir]

Nothing posted there yet but I did make a SquidgeWorldArchive account. Same username as AO3 (BytheBi) & I'll probably start with slowly crossposting works there.

[hellisharchive]

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?

Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons

Have good day :3

﹒﹒﹒perversions of the soul

➤ [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]

➤ 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments

➤ Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D

﹒﹒lucifer

He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.

He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.

While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.

﹒﹒﹒adam

This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.

He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.

Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.

﹒﹒﹒valentino

Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.

Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.

He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.

Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.

﹒﹒﹒vox

Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.

Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.

He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.

﹒﹒﹒saint peter

That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...

He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.

He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.

[bitchfitch]

*Nodding and taking notes*

I haven't beaten the game yet, because I'm not good at it and keep getting distracted/wanting to try new builds/re fight old bosses, but I've been playing for like, over a year so i think I'm beyond the point of caring much about spoilers. You can actually get the recipe for silver fowl feet turbo early on, it's on one of the dudes at the smouldering church and all the items to make them respawn in limgrave -the birds. those have to be farmed.

I knew the helmet and talisman were around, but i was like 'Ah it's one sword how long can it take. no point rushing off to another distraction' and then it took forever.and it took longer bc i got mad at video game for not rewarding me for murdering this dude over and over already and so stopped for a bit.

and tbh dual wielding is like. The way to play, so I'm deciding now, without ever playing any of the dark souls games, that 2 is the best bc you can dual wield and don't have to take a break from fun to go do your fucking taxes and talk to your coworkers.

hey so on average how many times would you have to kill an enemy to get a 4% drop rate item? Well. i had about 2000 runes when i started farming this one.

this omen plus his dog give a combined 580 runes. as you can see, i have 43800 now. so Apparently. to get an item with a 4% drop rate, you have to kill this dude about 72 time.

[astronicht]

I’ve gotten to Rohan Proper and I KNEW it was coming but I didn’t know exactly when or how and just. Wow okay the fact that it’s Aragorn who knows The Wanderer, and translates it… oh my fucking god. Of course Aragorn knows this one, the way he knows Beren & Luthien. Of course Aragorn on-the-spot translates The Wanderer. Beautifully. With some poetic license, but it is p much one century on and no one cares, everyone loves “Where now the horse and the rider”.

(I suspect THIS piece of early medieval lore is more widely known, but if you’ve never read this actual facts real life poem The Wanderer (aka the Lament of Rohirrim) in full — Aragorn just quotes an extract near the end — I highly recommend it. Literally everyone loves The Wanderer. Translating Beowulf sucks and I hate it. Translating The Wanderer feels like reading Lord of the Rings. And not just because it is… in LOTR).

Rutgers translations are always a little more fun and lively; Roy Liuzza’s translation is maybe my top choice. And of course the original Old English is great stuff. I mean, “Swa cweath eardstappa”?? Aragornnnn

Liuzza’s translation, the OG Old English, and Tolkien’s version (he added some stuff, and mixed in a few themes from later lines):

Also FYI the reason I knew it was coming is because my Old English teacher’s great joy was assigning her class this section of The Wanderer for a warm-up translation at the start of class, and then and sit back watching as the realization tore violently through the ranks.

[bitin-and-barkin]

Loving Someone

What would the healing process be like after your so-called death?

Warnings: Arthur Morgan x Reader, Gender neutral reader, mostly just filler and going into the mind of Arthur, he's so goddamned anxious, paranoid too, tw: talks of suicide, execution, death, and other bad stuff, no smut, mostly just arthur having a mental break, probably out of character, he's starting to go yandere, tw: yandere-esque behaviour

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT + Pt 3 to another story, Pt 1 here, Pt 2 here

__________________________

Arthur had lost people before.

When Eliza and Isaac had first died, he was only able to ever see their graves. Already buried, a cross put up. One moment they were there, and the next? 

They were gone. 

When he lost his Pa, he was young. Small and feeble. Sitting in the crowd, silently attending his own father's execution.

His Pa hanged him in front of him.

He wasn't sure how to react when it happened. Whenever someone was hanged there was always someone crying at the stands or nobody there who knew them well enough to weep for them.  

But when he looked at his dad, there wasn't much of a father there to mourn. Just bits and pieces of one.

When his Mama died, he wasn't there to see it. Only the aftermath. Her throat leaking red, and her eyes glossed over.  A certain shade of purple on her neck and face. The sun shone off her blood like something holy was done.  

He was much younger at that time, so he didn't really understand what happened. Death, that is. Nobody had ever bothered to explain it to him. It had always been a part of his life. 

In the wolves howling at night, mauling a buck, leaving its insides on its outsides and in the sunlight to rot. 

In the knobby, motionless, dogs on the side of the streets and in the quiet, grey toned graveyard in town.

So he could tell that something was wrong. He just didn't have a name for it.

He could see it though.

That there was some sort of new emptiness inside of her.

He had always carried that emptiness with him. An unspoken thing, it was the burden he bore.

People had come and gone. As time passed, it grew bigger and bigger. 

And so he filled it with money, and heists, and grand plans and demands from others. 

Alcohol and blood, his own and others among other things.

As he got older whenever he thought back to his mother he wondered if she really birthed a baby boy and not just a hole that would never fill. 

Always wanting more and more.

Always hungry, swallowing everything down. Every complaint and request, finishing them. Handing it to them on a silver platter. 

Never spitting anything out, but always coming back when others' plates are full. 

Nobody ever really said anything. It was convenient. Having a yes man, a loyal one, a Johnny on the spot. 

You had realized this behavior a long time ago. He's always choking on his food but saying he could handle more.

But when you walked in, for once he was full. 

For once he was loved.

And although he wasn't made for intimacy, nothing was able to take that away from him.

During the day he could feel your love underneath his fingernails and in the clothes that you sewed up for him and in the bird songs you'd always stop to listen to.

You were always a constant for him. He loved you like a fire loved its hearth. With enough love to make it home.

You gave him life.

And he knew he didn't deserve his.

He knew he wasn’t a good man. 

There was always a hope that some way the bad inside of him would be able to serve the good inside of you.

And that maybe one day he could make himself worthy of being in love with you. 

He always cared for you in the only way he knew how.

With bruised knuckles and busted lips, 

Slow dancing into the night with you and the blood in his mouth.

Acting and your sweet darling and as your perfect killer and as your rotten soldier. 

Doing it all if it all meant you would still smile at him in the mornings and nights.

Doing it all if it meant you would fill that void inside of him and stop it from swallowing him whole.

You had grown used to it.

He was protective, that was it.

He was the protector. Doing the sinned slaughter that would save the people.

And you couldn't say you didn't appreciate being prized by him.

Prized more than anything else in the world.

But this? This was something entirely new.

You didn't know much about loving others, your life hadn't afforded you it, and neither did Arthur.

But you knew this wasn't what love was supposed to be like.

Acting like a wild animal in a way. Backed into a corner by life itself.

1 week in and Arthur had practically snarled at Sean when he tried to drag him away from your bedside to a job.

2 weeks in and he had bashed a couple of Bill's teeth in for making a joke about you.

Commenting about how your love seemed to be one only made so you could lick each other's wounds.

He called it unsightly. The blood on his face afterwards wasn't too pretty either.

The way he was acting proved his point, though. Like everyone was your enemy and the entire world was too, too much.

He was finding his vices in you.

Only you.

Not in the normal way, the way a woman would look for her wife at the end of the day.

It wasn't in the sex or the looks or the meaningless chatter or even the comforting familiarity.

It was the edges of your fingertips, and in the rasp in your voice.

It seemed to be just you in its entirety.

Like a breath of fresh air.

The point is, a month had passed since you came back. You were healing. Arthur wasn't.

And now you had a problem.

You wanted to get back to jobs. Sure, it was a bit early. There was a odd ache in your arms here and there and when you bent over, you swear there would still be a phantom feeling of blood and Guarma Rum dripping down your back.

It was the O'Driscolls favorite after all.

But mostly, you were healed. Dutch had even cleared you for the smaller jobs. You knew, he knew, everybody in camp knew.

Except Arthur. Except him.

Approachable wasn't the way to describe him.

At least for anybody but you.

He had killed hundreds over the years in the name of Dutch's ideals.

But you were always so soft in his arms despite it all.

You trusted him.

But you're not sure if he trusted you.

With this, in specific. With your life.

You weren't sure how he'd react when you approached.

It was nearing 11 PM when you finally came.

Wolves howling at the moon miles away, people singing and swaying at the campfire after a long day.

Arthur was among them.

You told him you wanted to meet him there, that you needed to finish something up.

In reality you just needed a moment to think of a way to do something impossible.

To convince him that you were okay.

He was sitting there waiting for you.

You quietly walked over.

He was drinking at the campfire, his leg bouncing up and down. Trying to play it cool, but you could see through it. He was getting antsy.

Best not to keep him waiting.

Sitting next to him, he softly smiled the moment he saw you.

A quiet smile, one that only you could fish out of him.

Only you.

Placing his hand on and over yours.

Carving his fingers between yours.

He didn't say anything as he did. It was second nature.

"Arthur."

His eyes flicked towards yours, turning away from the campfire.

"Hm?"

You breathed out.

The smog from the campfire still dancing in the air.

"How are you?"

"I feel fine." He hummed. He seemed satisfied with you by his side.

You smiled.

"Good." He slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in just a little bit closer.

You guys talked for a little bit. About your days, what you did.

It was nothing exciting, but it meant the world to him.

His head was filled with honey. You words lazily coating his brain, sinking him into the ground as everything else faded into background noise.

Just you and him.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm going on jobs again."

Now? His thoughts ran silent.

His lips pursed, cutting off his breath. He looked around camp.

It was such a quick difference, like lightning and thunder. A crackle through the air. Nervous electricity still coursing around.

Scanning the area with his eyes for he didn't know what. A reason, maybe.

Everybody was still laughing at little nothings, but it felt like they were jeering at him.

He turned his eyes back to you. He was nervous, that was to be expected. Just tell him you would be fine, and he would be fine too.

Except it wasn't that simple.

"Why?"

You raised your eyebrows at this. He kept talking, never meeting your gaze.

"You don't need to go out, especially not so early after you got back,"

He nervously chuckled.

"I mean, is Dutch really nagging you that much?"

You weren't sure how to tell him you brought it up to Dutch.

Stuttering over his words, he kept talking.

"Do we really need money that much?"

"I heard of this stagecoach up near Flatneck Station, from what I've seen it's always something expensive they're carrying. Could make an easy pretty penny for us, real easy."

"Just yesterday you were tellin' me that your back hurts, and we're still changin' out your bandages every single day."

"You really oughta just stay here. Really."

His head was turned away. He has stopped talking after he kept stumbling over his words. His voice changing into meaningless hums.

Thoughts running through his head like an electrical current. Or maybe more like a bullet in the barrel of a frictionless gun.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

At any other time he would've muttered something sweet but clever or placed his hand back on yours and pulled you forward into his arms.

But now his head shot back like it was an order.

Looking at you, his face was indescribable.

Wild eyed. Ashamed of something.

Afraid even.

You were scared. You were both scared.

Was something more or less scary if you were next to someone who was equally as afraid walking into it?

You couldn't imagine all the bad things that could happen. Having to walk into a town of Raiders and Outlaws.

You weren't fragile.

You were scared, but..

It was like an open wound for you at this point. Painful and gaping, but slowly healing.

You still suffered for it every day, an ache at the back of your head. But you were healing, making good, no great process.

You were talking and walking and had come so far from before.

He had pushed you to stay home while healing, tearing others a new one for trying to even just put you on guard. Looked like he was gonna have a heart attack when you were "straining your back" by just carrying hay.

Looking into his eyes now, there was something new in them. Confusion. Abandonment. Hurt.

He didn't understand why you were doing this.

You were moving past it.

You knew he loved you but,

Why did it still seem like the entire world to him?

You brushed your hands against his stock-still face as he stared far past your gaze.

Was he okay?

"Are you okay?"

He didn't say anything.

There was a certain ringing in his ears as you spoke. More like a flatline than anything.

He was silent. Didn't respond.

But what was he supposed to tell you?

He knew he was overreacting, that he was being dramatic and controlling but he couldn't shake the feeling that...

How was he supposed to tell a knife there was nothing funny about spilling blood?

He didn't see any blood but he could feel himself bleeding.

His grip on his pants tightened. He tried to drag the conversation away, simply saying you guys could talk about it in the morning. That you were both tired. That you could discuss it with a clear head later.

You seemed hesitant at best. You said there was nothing to talk about later. Almost seeming confused.

For 6 months he couldn't bear the idea of you being dead. And so many times he woke up he prayed this day would be the last. So many times he stared at the gun, the knife, the rope. Sitting by your tent waiting for you to show up like old times.

You were going to be fine. You were going to be fine on your own. Weren't you?

Were you?

It was irrational, really. Overdramatic, stupid, a million other labels. Primal, even.

He could not make you understand. He couldn't make anybody else understand what he was feeling whenever he saw you. He couldn't even understand it himself.

What was he supposed to say? That he never could've done anything he did without you? That he'd never forsake you? That he needed you to support him? That you were the only person in his entire life that loved him? That you were his only friend? That he only loved you? That he didn't know how to love you in a way that mattered? That he didn't know how to love you in a way that made sense? That he didn't love himself?

How was he supposed to say he never understood intimacy or lust until he met you? That he had never felt want like how he wanted your skin against his?

Like how he had never felt fear like he did now, now that you were pulling away from him?

What was he supposed to say to you?

It was stupid, only a fool, a real fool would feel like this.

But all his insecurities were swallowing him whole and it felt like you were proving every wrong thing about him right.

You were the dull blade that he twisted inside himself. Keeping a wound from closing but keeping it clogged at the same time.

The only thing stopping his guts from spilling onto the ground.

But his guts were already contained in that cabin where he found your finger, when you first went to that stupid parley, when he cried in Hosea's arms after you left him.

He didn't understand why he was so afraid. It was fear then anger then bared teeth at anybody who approached.

Like a body hitting the ground, like a rat running a maze.

It all had to end eventually. You were gonna leave him eventually.

All alone again, with a dying father and a killing leader and a lucky brother who he hated yet loved.

Alone again.

He knew time had to pass. That his time was long gone, that yours was going down with his soon.

Hand in hand.

So soon.

But why did it have to be so soon?

And why did it have to be you?

He sharply swallowed. He was looking at the floor now. He doesn't remember himself turning his head down.

Dipping down, almost as if to cry.

Your hand was still on his shoulder. You quietly repeated your question.

He silently nodded.

Patting him on the shoulder, you stood and walked away. Telling him to get some sleep.

As you stepped and staggered, he could see a limp in your walk.

He desperately wanted to get up. To tell you something, anything that'd get you to change your mind.

But he was frozen in place. People were still talking and laughing like the world hadn't just collapsed in on him.

Classical music wafted out of Dutch's tent. He turned his gaze to it. It was still lit up, the flaps still open.

He silently stood up and began walking towards it, almost as if in a trance.

You weren't going on any jobs.

You weren't well enough.

He knew that. And he was going to make sure Dutch knew of that too.

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So the results on my last poll were pretty split down the middle, so I'm doing both of them. He'll run away with you soon, dw. Prolly kill Colm while he's at it. Sorry for taking so long, I was buzy🙏 rise and grind brothers

@photo1030

[marvel-nocturne]

These two again 🐱 motivation to finish thing has been garbage. Lost a file I was working on and that sucked 😞 was some more miles and miles stuff. But eh another day I suppose as I finish up me spidersona lol

I really like how swa lee sounds so close to miles voice annihilate is one of favorite songs from the movie. We've already heard miles sing before on the Christmas album it's quite nice 😩 he's so good. I hope they make another like little Christmas album.

[gallusrostromegalus]

On God I was working on the AEIWAM Outline today but I also got "The AEIWAM cast, post-fic, go to the Aquarium" brainrot so have this:

It kicks off with Retsu seeing Kenpachi deep in thought for once and asking him what he's mulling over and after a moment he asks: "Are there zoos for fish?" "...Pardon?" "There are lotsa fish," he reasons, "-at least as many as there are land animals, but they're all really hard to see, because they're in the water." Retsu considers him for a moment before gently asking "Do you mean The Aquarium?" "The what?"

Retsu, texting Ichigo in the Gotei-13 Groupchat at 2AM: I need you to acquire tickets and human chaperones for a group field trip to The Aquarium Ichigo, who fears her above everyone else in soul society: Yes, Captain. Retsu: If it was just the SWA I'd only ask for tickets but you know what The Lads are like. Ichigo: Unfortunately, Yes. Ichigo: I'll bring the first aid kit, zip ties, duct tape and candy. Retsu: Good man.

Upon Arrival, Kenpachi has already been lectured about "You ARE NOT ALLOWED to fight and/or eat the fish, no matter how annoying and/or delicious they look

Turns out they were lecturing the wrong guy because it's Byakuya that develops a personal rivalry with a grouper ("It's smug expression disgusts me." "Captain that is a FISH.") and has to be talked out of climbing into the tank to fight it

after that he has to hold hands with Rukia or Renji.

Rukia discovers Sea Bunnies and ends up crying about them.

Yachiru gets to see them feeding the Piranha and it's a Spiritual Experience for her.

Later, she gets to see them feed the sharks and it's an EVEN BETTER spiritual Experience.

Hitsugaya learns Penguins are real and not just 'made up for christmas, like the flying reindeer and the guy with the suspect toy charity'.

Momo lights into him about "Penguins are my favorite animal, they've been my favorite animal for decades YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE FAKE?" Hitsugaya: "YOU ALSO USED TO LIKE UNICORNS!" Momo: "THOSE ARE ALSO REAL!" Orihime: "They are?" Momo: "...I keep forgetting they're extinct in the living world."

Tousen gets to experience the Touch Pool and the docents realize what's up so they start pulling out the cool stuff like sea hares and moray eels because he's an adult that can be trusted to pet things gently.

When the group comes back to collect him the staff is letting him hand feed a Pacific Red Octopus, and Yachiru immediately demands she be allowed to as well.

Retsu quietly releases Minazuki into the stingray touch pool so she can "go play with her cousins :)"

Kenpachi and Yamamoto asking "Can we eat it?" about every. single. animal.

The extremely dedicated docent that is *just* Psychic enough to know something is up with this group of chucklefucks so they're following them through the aquarium, but is also genuinely having fun answering every fucking insane question these guys ask.

Yoruichi was not anticipating there to be Tigers at the aquarium (they ARE semi-aquatic and part of a larger exhibit on Tropical Riparian Ecosystems) and she is SUPER NOT JEALOUS of how much Urahara and Baby Labcat like them.

There is also an exhibit with an Anaconda that the docent finds Rangiku staring at with a forlorn expression. Docent: "It's okay, not everyone is a fan of snakes." Rangiku: "What? Oh, no, I love snakes. They just also remind me of my Ex." Docent: *WomanTryingToDoMath.Meme* Docent: *Considers the size of the Anaconda* Docent: "...Ah. Yeah, I'd miss a man like that too."

Renji, Ichigo and Ikkaku going "Its YOU!" to each other over every single red, orange or round creature.

Kenpachi going "IT ME!!" about the black urchins before anyone can get him though.

Shunsui pointing at the sea otters that are holding hands and declaring, tears in his eyes "Jushiro! It's US!" Ukitake then prompty ruins the moment by telling Shunsui Fun Facts about Sea Otters like how they're basically giant marine weasels that will absolutely drown each other's young and maul anyone dumb enough to touch one.

The Dolphins all love Komamura and he is just a little bit smug about this.

Relatedly, not sure if its funnier for Komamura to show up in a Human Gigai, or as Tousen's "Service Dog"

Human Gigai: -Komamura is weirdly stony-faced and sort of intimidating and everyone thinks he's stressed out but really he's used to making micro-expressions and gesturing with his ears so he sorta just forgot how to move his face. -Still Nine and a Half feet tall and smacking his head on Everything

Service Dog: -"He's uh. A Shepherd. Mix." Ichigo says to the aforementioned Docent about what is very obviously a Bigass Timber Wolf. -Sajin doesn't give a rat's ass about his cover and keeps talking to Tousen while in dog form. If anyone looks at him funny he makes direct eye contact and says "Woof. Bark."

Yamamoto vs. Escalator. Catastrophic Beard Incident. 2 injured, 16 Dead but they were like that already.

Ukitake, Retsu, and Tama all Not Shutting Up With Facts About Every Fish Ever because they all share a Special Interest.

They briefly lose Byakuya in the Jellyfish exhibit because Rukia and Renji both thought the other one was holding Byakuya's hand and he is *enchanted* by the wall-sized tank of Moon Jellies.

Ikkaku attempting to talk Yachiru out of getting the ridiculously oversized Great White Shark plushie only for Zaraki to get it for both of them instead.

Everyone had a great time and is Very Tired and so they don't realize anything is amiss until they get back to Ichigo's place and the nightly news comes on. "Hey ichigo?" Yuzu calls. "Why is Ms. Unohana on TV?" The news has a story with a still image of Retsu on CCTV and "Authorities are looking for this woman who somehow ADDED a fully intact and highly venomous short-tailed stingray to the aquarium's touch pool" "OH MY GOD WE FORGOT MINAZUKI!"

[littleskeletonprincessss]

The crowds yearn for swagger content

Drunk - SwaggerSouls x Reader SMUT (MDNI)

(I'm sorry, i'm the actual worse for taking so long to put this out. Hopefully it makes up for it.)

Even though you’d been old enough to legally drink for a couple years now, you weren’t one to take advantage of that face. Sure, you’d have a pretty little cocktail here and there at friends��� birthdays, bachelorette parties, things like that, but rarely just for fun.

Today though, you’d left work uptight and stressed from dealing with people that had to have been born without common sense all week. Fixing their mistakes had put off your own work and deadlines were coming up that you didn’t think you’d meet, so when you finally left the office Friday night, you needed to do something to take your mind off it and relax a little.

Sinking into your car and setting your purse on the passenger seat next to you, you fished your ringing phone out of the side pocket.

“Hello?”

“If cats could talk, do you think they'd just complain about humans all day?”

You smirked, slipping your key into the ignition and sparking the car to life.

“I’m guessing your high?”

“A little bit. Took some earlier to chill out. What are you up to?”

“Just leaving the office. I was actually thinking about grabbing a drink.”

“Little miss responsible?”

“Shut up. Wanna join?”

“Sure. Come over…and bring snacks.”

Swagger and you had met your second year of college. You’d originally bumped into each other – literally – at a coffee shop just off campus when you were trying to finish your final paper. When standing in line with each other to buy each other’s new drinks, you got to talking about your major and, being who he is, he provided lots of facts and some much-needed inspiration, and you asked him to help you finish your assignment amidst your brain fog. You’d swapped numbers and, after reaching out to let him know you’d gotten a high score, you began to talk more.

The closer you got, the more comfortable you were with each other and more often did you exchange flirty banter. Despite that, however, your relationship was never a romantic one, no matter how many people told you both that you were the only ones that didn’t see it.

Picking up a variety of snacks on your way, you arrived at Swaggers house, arms laden with bags of everything from sweet to savory, never quite sure what his high munchies or your drunk cravings would be satisfied by.

Walking in the door, Bear and Bean ran into the room, weaving between your legs, soft meows and purring creating a homey atmosphere you felt whenever you came over.

“Hi guys.” You cooed, setting the bags on the counter where they’d jumped, scratching Bear’s chin like she liked and letting Bean cuddle into your neck.

“Hey,” Swagger grumbled from behind you, his broad build entering the kitchen. “You made it.” He walked over to wrap you in a hug, before jokingly pushing you away to grab a pack of raspberries from the bag.

“So are we doing this or what?” You asked, taking the hard lemonade you’d brought, it usually being the only kind of alcohol you’d drink, into the living room, plopping onto the couch, kicking your heels off and turning on his TV.

“You wanted to get drunk and all you brought were pussy drinks?” Swaggers scoffed, seeing the bottles condensing on the probably pricier coffee table.

“What? It’s what I like, fuck off.”

Swagger laughed, going back into the kitchen and bringing back a bottle of wine and some glasses in one hand and some hard liquor, which you the life of you, you couldn’t name, back.

“If your week was as bad as you make it sound like it was, you’re going to want the good stuff.” He says, pushing the wine and a glass into your hand. “And this,” he says, shaking the other bottle, “is just in case.”

“Fine. But can I borrow something to wear?” You ask, quickly deciding the itchy work blouse and pants weren’t going to be comfortable enough to wear all night and you didn’t plan on leaving any time soon, especially drunk. You knew Swagger wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night, you’d done it often enough.

“Already put something out on my bed.” He mumbled, waving his hand towards his room as he poured both glasses full of the thick red liquid, dismissing you to change into the pair of shorts and shirt that he’d laid out before coming back to start the night.

A few hours later, both of you were decently drunk. The buzz you were feeling was delicious, and you could feel yourself melting into the soft couch. Swagger and you had been shooting the shit the whole time, both of you laughing yourselves silly, your soft giggles being dominated by his booming rumbles. After a while you both began to calm down, starting to whisper softly about life.

“You’re great, you know that?” Swagger muttered, his thumb softly rubbing against your shoulder, his arm thrown around the could behind you. “And you-“ he pointed to you, the last little bit of liquid sloshing in his reluctantly drunken bottle of lemonade, as he paused to hiccup “are a boss bitch and shouldn’t let dumb asses get to you so much.”

“You’re sweet, Swagger.” You coo, leaning in to pull him into a loose hug. You were a very affectionate drunk, always hanging off whatever friends you were drinking with, and going hand in hand with that was how flirty it made you. More than once, you’d shared funny kisses with friends and Swagger was no exception.

Pulling away from the hug you planted a kiss on his cheek, moving to his lips as you leaned back. Swaggers hand dropped from the couch, lightly ghosting your waist before slightly pushing you back.

“Looks like Little Miss Responsible is drunk.” He said, ending it where he always did, never wanting you to do something you’d regret.

“Pfft” you scoffed, eyes rolling back and making you dizzy enough to fall into his chest before pushing yourself back up. “I’m fine.” You giggled at the doubtful look he blessed you with. “It’s just a harmless little kiss.”

“Yeah, sure it is.”

“Besides, not like I didn’t enjoy it.” Normally your virgin status was at the back of your mind, but the feeling of his deceptively soft lips pressed against your own mixed with the intoxication made your tummy feel warm, though you usually kept your horny thoughts to yourself.

Swagger looked at you, dark eyes seeming to see into your soul, gauging the honesty of your statement.

A dash of liquid courage washing over you, you shifted and threw your leg across Swaggers lap, pulling yourself to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, dainty fingers playing with the little hairs on the nape of his neck.

This was new territory and, even though you were both terrified, neither made the move to end it first. Glancing down at his lips, the tip of your tongue peeked out from between your own darting back in almost as quickly as you pressed your lips against his again.

Swaggers hands hesitantly slid up your back, pulling you ever so slightly closer, his head tilting, nose bumping against yours. Your heavy breaths whispered together, growing faster, bodies moving against one another, unfortunately clothed.

Your fingers walked down his chest, tugging at the hem of his shirt, only revealing inches of skin before you were eased off his lap back onto the couch next to him.

“We can’t-“ he panted, moving himself the slightest bit away from you.

His feeble refusal fell on deaf ears as the horny feeling inside of you grew.

“Please? Don’t you think I’m pretty?” you whined, leaning back into the cushions, hand trailing down your chest, lip between your teeth. Your desperate need for him brought tears to your eyes as you imagined how good he’d feel inside of you.

“Fuck, of course I do. You’re beautiful and sweet and God, especially now…” he trailed off, dark eyes fighting to focus on your finger playing between your legs and the hand that had pushed up your – his – shirt, pressing against your beautiful tit, exposing the delicate lacy bra that left little to his imagination.

“Babygirl, you’re killing me…” his whisper was hoarse with raw lust, struggling to keep control.

“Need you, Swagger.”

Your final plea overwhelmed him, immediately moving to lie on top of you, chest pressed tightly to chest, his lips dominating yours and his tongue quickly commanding its place in your mouth.

Adjusting your legs, you let one foot fall to the floor, and buried the other in the cushions, allowing him all the room he needed to grind his hips deliciously into you. Your fingers tore his shirt, the fabric itchy against your flaming skin. You needed to feel him, every inch of him, against you.

Breaking the kiss only for a moment, Swagger pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the side before burying his face into your neck, marking you, leaving you covered in his love bites. Your hips almost involuntarily bucked up into his, seeking what you needed most, and the sudden friction drew a growl deep from Swaggers throat.

“Baby- fuck, baby we need to stop.” He said, pulling back once again.

“No!” You cried, arms reaching out to hold him and your legs wrapping around his waist. He couldn’t leave you now, not like this.

Swagger pressed a bruising kiss to your swollen pout.

“Our first time is not going to be a quick fuck on my couch.” He mumbled against you. “I’m going to take my time with you.” His hand came around to cup your ass, pulling you tight against him as he stood up.

 “Look at me.” His dark brown eyes bore into yours, keeping your attention even when you felt his

You panted a quick sigh of relief before sucking on his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at the thick brown locks.

His closed bedroom door sent a chill through you when it pressed against your back as it propped you up while he haphazardly pushed down the sweats he’d let you borrow, before turning to sit you on his bed, discarding your shirt and bra, exposing you to him as he laid you down.

“Wanted this for so long…” His head fell to press open mouth kisses on your stomach, trailing down between your legs, panties embarrassingly wet. Both hands crawled up your body before cupping your breasts, fingers splayed wide, black fingernails contrasting against your skin. His teeth nipped at your waistband, pulling your underwear down, the bridge of his nose bumping against you in the process, making you shiver in pleasure.

“God!” You let a loud moan into the room.

Swagger chuckled as he came up to kiss you.

“That feel good, Princess?” He pet your hair in adoration, middle finger swiping between your labia before sinking inside.

Your eyes rolled back as your hand came to grip his strong forearm, head sinking further into his pillow. He took the opportunity to start sucking on your neck again, occasionally sneaking peeks of his finger disappearing inside of you repeatedly.

You’d already been a moaning mess for him, kneading at your own breasts, but when his second finger joined, your previous panting turned into fast whimpers, your entire vocabulary turning into babbling and incoherent mumbles.

“M’gonna cum…”

Your orgasm was so close you could taste it, just a few moments more and you’d be in bliss-

Everything stopped.

Swagger pulled his fingers from you, smirking while he slips them into his mouth, tasting you. You bit your lip at how dirty it seemed, and your eyes shut in pleasure when he leaned in and kissed you, tongue pushing past your teeth leaving a taste that was uniquely him with a slight tinge of something that was all you.

“I’m going to fuck you, now.” He promised, though you knew there was an underlying question of consent.

You let your legs spread in response and Swagger pushed his jeans and boxers off before finally breaking your barrier of friendship and virginity all at once. Your back arched, hand leaving your chest and latching onto his shoulder, wincing at the sudden pain.

“Oh my God,” he groans, sinking as deep as he could go, your pelvic bones meeting.  “You feel so- so fucking good.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, the tears tumbling down your cheeks.

“It’s so much- feel so full…” you mewl, trying to adjust to his size.

“It’s all for you, baby. Just feel me inside you, okay? We have all the time in the world.” His hand came up to stroke your cheek, brushing your hair out of your face, placing soft kisses across your face and neck. You nodded, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close and your chests pressed close together.

Swagger looked up at you after a while, a soft expression of love shading his features.

“Is it okay if I- “

You nodded and buried your head in his neck as he started to slowly pull out of you, almost completely, before pushing in again, growing in speed until there was a steady slapping of sweaty skin against sweaty skin, Swagger pressing clumsy kisses against any part of you he could and you sucking dark bruises into the crook of his neck, leaving hickeys you were sure you’d be embarrassed by in the morning.

What could have been minutes or hours later, Swagger’s thrusting became sloppy and stuttered, as a string of curses fell from his sweet lips into your ear.  His adjusted, supporting his weight on one solid forearm, inching his hand down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach, and finally between your legs to occupy your clit , drawing a loud moan of ecstasy from you, and pushing you to orgasm with him, as you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

He kissed you gently, almost too soft to feel, moving to your cheeks to kiss the tear streaks staining your face before tucking your matted hair behind your ear. His eyes looked down at you with a medley of emotions brightening them. Smiling up at him you rested your palms on his face, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

Once you’d both calmed down Swagger pulled out of you, cum trailing behind. He reached on the floor and grabbed a random piece of laundry, gently cleaning you up the best he could, lying on his back next to you and silently pulling you to lie against his broad chest. His fingers trailed up and down your bare back, relaxing your racing heart and mind. Nothing needed to be said now, that could wait until morning. All that mattered right now was you two, together.  Your eyelids fluttered shut as exhaustion took over, and, sensing your state of calm, Swagger leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head before pulling the blanket up over the both of you.

[unikhroma]

[updated: 4/20, clarified where you can contact me because whoopsie i forgot + updated TOS link]

do you wanna see your oc or favorite character spin to win? wanna have it as a discord emoji or a stream decoration thing? well look no further!

the price is complexity/size based; so far the average commission has been $12

i can do furries, humans, animals, characters w armor or mechs (it'll be simplified due to 🤏🏼 size), and characters w gore and/or horror elements. so most characters i guess

these will be paid through ko-fi! be sure to read my TOS also! they'll be unwatermarked unlike my regular stuff and sent in both original and larger sizes. if you're interested, send a message here or on toyhouse!

below is a list of credits for the ocs in the ad + how much each example would cost with an explanation for the price so you have an idea of how much a prospective comm would cost

i'm shortening the non-oc character names because i don't want people getting mad at me for this showing up in several character tags due to tumblr's search function working the way it does

first row

spamt - $9 - he is So small.

swa - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

queen - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

roux - $9 - v simple design + only two colors

tama - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

second row

mike - $9 - he is So small.

tenna - $12 - semi-detailed design, but smaller size

host - $15 - detailed design + decent sprite size

(these 3 ocs are owned by @ne0nwithazero)

malnourished swatch neo (@hawkfoolery) - $18 - the strings and large wings combo makes this one complex

third row

emmy (@emmybeebs-art) - $12 - decent sprite size + complexity

dimen - $12 - simple-ish design, but it's challenging to translate a character that's designed to be 2d only into 3d

o' - $18 - big sprite + his arms are weird to interpret in 3d space especially for a turnaround

[junebug-jamboree]

ROLLBOTS LOST EPISODE CREEPYPASTA

Author’s note: I’ve been rewatching @indigosfindings' video about the pitfalls and virtues of creepypastas over and over again for a good long while. I found it a bit late, but it’s managed to find a spot on my endlessly rewatchables playlist. Because of all of this, I was inspired to write a creepypasta of my own in an attempt to hit almost all of the pitfalls at once. I also decided to make it about RollBots because of the line about it during the “empty replica” segment. I’ve never heard of this show, and I deliberately chose not to watch any of it in order to keep it as out of character as possible. I looked at the TV Tropes page for basic plot information and character names, but that’s it. Hopefully I did alright! :)

Quick note: This pasta has themes of murder and violence in it, and is not suitable for kids. Other than that, hope you all enjoy! :D

PART I: rollbots lost episoad Spin the Killer

I is was HUGE fan of rollbots when i was a kid, it was my favotire show ever, everyday after school i would wach it on the tv and i loved it so much. My favotire charcater was always Spin and i wanted to be just like him when i growed up. Oneday after shcool my mom took me to a garage sale at our neibors house, he was selling lots of old stuff, i was bored. I looked around and saw some old webkinz plushies, but i didnt want them because wekinz is for babys anyways. Suddnely i see a amazing sight, i see a dvd case with a familar round red charcater on it… it was a rollbots dvd!!!! I broght it to mom and sayed “mom can i buy this plz!!!!!!” mom sayed “NO” and i sayed “PLZ!!!!!” before mom could say no again the neibor comes over and says i can have it for free. I sayed “REALLY!!!!!” the neibor sayed “yes”, i was so so so happy!!! I went back home with my mom and i went to my room, i put the dvd into my mini tv, the menu had all the episoads! But thing that made me confusde is was that there was a extra episoad at the bottom of the menu,it was called “Spin the Killer”. Thats weird i thouhgt… I thouhgt the tittle of the episoad was just a glitch, I decided to wach the episoad but i shold not of wached the episoad! The begining of the episoad was just like any other it had all of the charcaters i know and love, but was diffrent was the theme song had words now. But not normal words… scary words! The words sayed in the song were “Killer spin is coming!” “You hide now! He come for you!” “Time to die!!!” i was creeped out. After the theme song it shown Flip City than it zoomed into the charcaters. Captain pounder was talking to Penny about what they were going to do today, penny sayed something about doing training to fight Vertex and the bad guys. What was weird thing was that her voice was all echoy and stuff. Suddnely Spin busts down the wall, he is holding an knife. I thouhgt that was weird because Spin is a good guy! Spin than says “Hello friends! Or should i say… GOODBYE!!!!” His eyes goes hyper rellistic and Spin then stabbes Captain pounder with his knife, black oil goes flying every where! I was so scared! Penny screams and trys to run away but then Spin pulls out a chainsaw and chasing her. Lance then come in and sayed “Spin what are doing!!!!” Spin then slice penny in half with his chain saw, covering every one in oil and sending metal parts everry where. Lance got chain swa away from spin, but Spin then pulled out a gun and sayd” You cannot stop me weakling!” Spin shoot Lance in the face, there was a hole on his four head that leaked oil. I thouhgt i was gonna throw up… Suddnely Spin looked staright at me and sayed “YOUR NEXT SAM…” the episoad ended right there. The dvd went flying out of tv and nearly cut my head of! I toke the dvd and smashed it into one millon pices, put the pices in a shoebox and burryd it in the back yard. That episoad was so scary that i didnot sleep for two days. If you see a rollbots dvd at a yard sale, DONT WACH IT!!!!! You will be scared for your life……

PART II: RollBots Lost Episode: “Spin the Killer”

I had a horribly traumatic memory from when I was a child. It involved my all-time most beloved TV show. It was a show called “RollBots,” and I watched it every day after I got home from school. The rich themes within the narrative captured my heart at a tender young age, and the characters were all well-rounded and three-dimensional; as if they were real people I could meet. Far and away, my favorite was Spin. The heroic leader of the noble bots, his mission was to keep Flip City safe from the clutches of Vertex and his army. When I was but a mere child, I greatly admired the round, red bot, and I wanted to be just like him one day. Heroic, noble, and having shoes the size of my head.

When I was about six or seven, I’m not exactly sure, I was at a yard sale with my mother, and I happened across a DVD of RollBots. The individual who was hosting the sale offered me the DVD for free; not a cent did I owe. At that moment, I felt like I was the luckiest child alive. Luckier than a five footed rabbit with fur made of four leaf clovers. Oh, how my little heart did backflips within my chest; the endorphins rushing from my brain to every other part of my tiny body. It was a high that I, in all of my years, have never been able to replicate. Not with mushrooms, weed brownies, mushroom brownies, or any other intoxicant substance. However, my RollBots related ecstasy was not meant to last.

An utterly wicked sight awaited me when I put the DVD into my TV, one that would haunt me for decades to come. A truly accursed episode of my beloved cartoon; an episode that felt as if it had crawled from the depths of the fiery underworld itself. It was as if the pixels on the TV screen were dyed from the tears of orphans, the polygons making the characters’ models carved from the calcified remains of man’s arrogance. It was not an episode of my dearest cartoon show, nay; it was a foul hallucination woven by Lucifer himself.

To this day, I haven’t, and don’t think I can, forget the sensations I felt while watching it. The sweat from my forehead seeped into the panda eared toque I wore, the wispy golden hairs on my arms stood on end, and my eyeballs went as wide as wide could go. They were like emerald colored satellites; in that they forcibly received and converted the data from the cursed episode and sent it to be branded onto the inside of my cranium. If I were to have my head cut open, the image of Spin with a knife would be found on my cerebellum; no doubt about that.

At the same time, I’d found myself at odds with my disgust, for I was deeply fascinated by this episode. I’d had an insatiable desire to know more about this episode, and who could have possibly created such an abominatious affront to Canadian CGI animation. Countless hours were poured into scouring the bowels of the internet for any information on the episode, and countless hours proved to be fruitless.

My biggest breakthrough yet came when I returned to my childhood home. When I looked out into the backyard, the memory came back to me; the memory of destroying the DVD, as if I were Hercules slaying the Hydra for the benefit of the world at large. I had sacrificed my childhood innocence by subjecting myself to such a rancid episode, and so I destroyed the only copy I knew of to prevent any other innocent souls from being snuffed out by that foul thing.

The shattered remains of the plastic disc cried out to me from their, what I assumed at the time to be, permanent, resting place. Like a moth to a flame, I found myself drawn to the voice. I got the shovel from the shed, and I dug into the earth in search of Pandora’s shoebox. Beyond the everpresent weeds, the forgotten plastic bits of toys, and the unmarked graves of hamsters long past, I found the patch of ground where not just the DVD had been laid to rest, but my own childhood innocence by proxy. The shovel tore through the soil and tossed it to the wayside as I made my way down.

The sight of the withered shoebox filled my head with emotions I thought were only perceptible to the mantis shrimp. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me, in knowing that I hadn’t imagined the whole incident after a particularly nasty sugar binge. At the same time, I felt a strong sense of hatred for the DVD that ruined my life. I scooped up the shoebox with the gentle hands of a mother carrying her firstborn child, and I brought it with me back to my new house. Far away from the memories of the past, and into new horizons.

Once I arrived at my humble abode, I set the shoebox down on my desk. I knew what was to come from such an unholy process. Tonight, I was to take the shattered corpse of the DVD, and reanimate it. Super Glue would serve as the sutures to my very own monster, and I was to make myself into a proper Frankenstein. The task was a delicate one, so I couldn’t afford to let my emotions take me over like I did all those years ago. It was mind over matter; and I knew that logic and reason would triumph over the irrational fears of a young child. I channeled my rationality into my hands as I applied glue to every edge of the pieces of disc, unifying them once more.

20 grueling minutes passed me by, as if the time had been late for school and had rushed out the door with toast in its mouth. I looked at my finished handiwork for the first time, and I shed a single tear upon seeing the disc whole once again. It was time to face my childhood fears and play the disc one more time.

I delicately inserted the disc into the DVD slot, the euphoria of which was comparable to a night of passionate romancing with your mother. The inner workings of the machinery within my TV did what was required of them, and they read the disc without fault or error. The familiar episode layout appeared on the TV screen, and taking caution, I hovered the remote’s cursor over the last entry; the episode to end all episodes.

“Spin the Killer.”

I brought down my thumb against the play button on the remote with the same passion and fervor of a judge bringing down his gavel after sentencing a serial killer to the electric chair. I braced myself for the episode which was to come. I braced myself for all of the old wounds which were to be opened by the re-exposure to the cause of them.

To my surprise, the screen was completely blank. The TV screen was as dark as a moonless night. No stars, no sun, no galaxy. Nothing. I looked at the empty void portrayed on the screen with wide, spherical oculars. The more I observed, the more I began to see. The faint image of a red-hued sphere began to creep out of the shadows within the TV, icy blue eyes peeking out from the darkness like a tiger about to pounce on its prey. A grin crept across the round face of the red sphere, bright white teeth shattering the monotonous pitch black with their glow.

“Hello, Sam,” A voice spoke from behind me. I whipped my head around to see what the source of the voice had been.

“Or, should I say, goodbye,” the voice spoke again. This time, I knew the exact source of it. The moment I turned around, I was met with the vicious visage of the red robot that had shattered my childhood dreams.

It was Spin, live in the flesh (er, metal?), standing in front of me. In his robotic right hand was a Teruyasu Fujiwara knife, the stainless steel blade reflecting the light above in an odd fashion due to its rough-hewn texture. At that moment, I knew the last thing I would see in my short life would be the juxtaposition of the slightly bumpy texture of the blade with the delicate calligraphy on the side.

“Spin… it’s you,” I ejaculated.

“Who else would it be?” He announced as he held out his mechanical arms in a triumphant pose.

“But… Why are you here? How are you here?!” I interrogated. “You’re not real! You’re supposed to be a cartoon character!”

“I have my ways, dear,” Spin answered with a scoff and a crossing of the arms. “I’m here because I have something to say to you.”

“What is it?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. The robot cleared his throat before speaking once more.

“11 14 11 24 24 33 31 53 22 14,” he beeped in a series of mechanical whirrs.

“What does that mean?” I questioned.

“Here,” he answered, handing me a sheet of paper. “Use this.” 

I carefully inspected the document he handed me. This is what it looked like.

“This makes no sense,” I articulated confusedly.

“It’s actually really simple,” Spin began. “You take the numbers I just said and run them through the cipher.” His black tipped finger pointed at the first tile of the square.

“I said 11, so that means you look at the square with 1 on the top and 1 on the side. Then I said 14, so now you go down to the one with 1 on the top and 4 on the side. Keep doing that until you’ve figured it out.”

“Oh, that makes more sense,” I articulated, knowledge-havingly. I decoded the cipher using the numbers Spin had beeped. Once I figured out the hidden message, all of the color left my face.

“Oh, my God…” I let slip, even though I’m a stone cold atheist. I believe in science, thank you very much.

“It’s true,” Spin hummed. “And I intend to do it to you, too.” He pointed the tip of his knife towards my colorless face.

“But… why? What did I do to you?” I fell to my knees and pleaded with the red sphere.

“It’s more about what you didn’t do,” He began. “You forgot about me.”

“I did?”

“Yes! You did!” Spin’s rather large sneakers squeaked against the floor as he paced around in front of me. “You stopped watching me and my friends. One thing led to another, and all of a sudden, no one was watching me anymore. No one even remembered my name.”

“No one? Not a single person?” I asked.

“No one. They were all busy playing Webkinz!” He shouted with a stomp of the foot for emphasis. “It’s like no one even cared about me.”

I bit my lower lip, realizing the error of my ways.

“It was horrible, being forgotten,” the bot continued. “It’s like I meant nothing to anyone. Not even you.”

“Me?!” I sputtered.

“Yes, you! Being forgotten by you was a fate worse than death. Worse than the heat death of the universe. Worse than pulling a hangnail too far! And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I loved you.”

“Excuse me?” My jaw went slack as I did a double take.

“I looked forward to spending those after school days with you. I loved putting on a show to entertain you. You were my favorite human. I saw so much potential in you, and I wanted to mold you into someone I could be proud of. But you just… left.” The sadness was evident in Spin’s sapphire eyes, but behind the dual walls of blue was a burning hatred. 

“So I came to a decision,” Spin decided as he slowly approached me. “I’m going to kill you. Just like I killed everyone else. And what fun I’ll have doing it.”

Without warning, the robot swung the knife at me. I narrowly dodged it, the tip of the blade grazing ever so slightly against my cheek. I took several steps backwards, bumping against the TV that I’d forgotten about.

“Don’t make this difficult, Sam,” Spin taunted as he approached.

Seeing an opportunity, I kicked the robot in the face and bolted out the door to my room. I practically flung myself down the stairs, momentum working both for and against me in my plight down the flight. Once I had reached the bottom, I scrambled back to my feet and booked it for the front door, the sound of squeaking shoe rubber following closely behind me. I quickly shut the front door and locked it, my hands trembling as I fiddled with my keys. The tip of Spin’s knife penetrated the wood of the door, which was my cue to run for my car; a 2004 Vauxhall Astra that sat parked in the driveway of my house.

I flung open the car door, got into the front seat, and pulled the door shut once more. I slammed the keys into the ignition and peeled out of my driveway faster than a bullet train, not bothering to fasten my seatbelt until I’d made it out of my neighborhood. Before I could think about where I could go next, a single antenna rose in my rearview mirror, followed by a pair of navy blue eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” I screamed as I lost control of my vehicle. I swerved into a wooded area and flipped the car over several times. The various objects within were sent flying; a travel mug full of days old coffee that I’d forgotten about popped open and splashed its contents all over the walls of the car. Broken glass pierced my skin, like the shadow version of having my ears pierced at Claire’s for my eighth birthday. Time seemed to stop, but also play in fast forward at the very same time. Such a paradoxical predicament would not go unnoticed by the universe at large, and so the car finally settled down in a wooded ditch.

I clamored out of the wrecked vehicle, battered and bruised from the experience, yet unharmed deeper than a superficial level. I rested on my hands and knees, trying to process all that had just happened. Numbers crunched in my head as I tried to reverse engineer the trajectory of the car and calculate the probability of my survival, but none of the numbers made any sense; not even to my intellectual self.

The area around me was an absolute mess. Copies of my resume from job interviews of the past lay scattered on the grass below. The cup holder between the front seats had popped out, revealing a cartoon shark imprinted on the bottom (I had always wondered where the hidden shark was on this particular model). Glass shards littered the ground like the workshop of an amateur mosaic artist. The car itself, my trusty steed in my quest to rid myself of the red robot, lay upside-down like a turtle flipped on its back. I shed a small tear upon seeing my prized Astra in such a sorry state.

My thoughts were interrupted by one of the rear doors opening, and a somehow completely unharmed Spin stepping out.

“Wow,” he remarked. “That was quite a ride, wasn’t it? Now, where were we?”

The red robot slowly approached me, knife still in hand. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming surge of emotions all in conflict with one another. Fear of my impending doom, rage at the betrayal of my childhood hero, thoughts of what I would say to my relatives if I had the chance, and who I would meet on the other side. But at the forefront of all of them, one emotion stood strong and true.

Logic.

I knew Spin was no match for my intellect. None of his dirty little tricks could even hold a candle to my divine wisdom. Not even one of those tiny candles that are put in jack o’ lanterns. Not even a candle made by the world’s smallest candlemaker for the world’s smallest candelabra. All of Spin’s candles were the smell of a body shop, while mine were the smell of cold hard facts.

So that was exactly what I decided to use to my advantage. I stood up and adjusted my collar before speaking.

“Fine, then,” I spoke. “If you want to kill me, then kill me. I’m ready for you.”

“Well, alright then,” Spin responded. “I just might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Yes, indeed,” I declared back. “But I have just one thing I want to say first.” 

“Oh?” Spin asked, bemused. “And what would that be? What are your final words?” I grinned with delight, as he’d fallen straight into my trap.

“THIS! STATEMENT! IS! FALSE!!!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs. Spin seemed taken aback by my outburst.

“Is… is that true?” He asked again.

“Yes!” I shouted. “It’s true that this statement is false!”

“But- but- that doesn’t make sense!” The robot took a step back, dropping his knife and clutching his head in confusion. “How can it be true if it’s false?”

“It just is,” I retorted with a confident smirk.

“N-no! It can’t be!” Smoke began to seep from Spin’s circular head. “It’s just not right!”

Those ice blue eyes, which moments ago had instilled fear into my heart, now had a look of utter terror on them. The frightener had become the frightened, it seemed.

“How does that make you feel, smart boy?” I asked the round robot, who at this point was now in a desperate frenzy. The circuits in his head were in overdrive, trying to comprehend my prior proclamation.

“This is… this is…” He stammered as his eyes jittered in place. “THIS IS ALL WRONG!!!”

Without warning, the robot’s head burst into flames, shards of metal being sent in all directions. His metal arms were blown off to either side, and the flaming remnants of his lower half fell to the ground; knees first, followed by the lower half of the head.

I looked on at the display in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile. I had slain the beast with nothing but my wits. Such a feat, I believed not even the cosmos itself would be able to replicate; not even in billions of years. I had proven to myself, and the world at large, that once again, facts and logic prevail over all adversity.

Once the fire had died down, I knelt down at Spin’s lower half, removed his large sneakers, and put them on myself. I then began to walk out of the woods in search of the nearest gas station.

It was time to treat myself to some coffee.

[greenyvertekins]

is ソナミー the correct tag to look for sonamy stuff from the japanese fandom?

No. What you want to look for is ソニエミ

To elaborate further on the specific terms JP Sonic fandom uses from my own observations;

Modern Sonic is often referred to as モダソニ (ModaSoni) or he’s referred to as モダンソニック (Modan Sonikku). He’s also called ソニさん　(Soni-san or “Mr Soni”)

Classic Sonic is often referred to as クラソニ (KuraSoni) Or he’s referred to as クラシック ソニック (Kurashikku Sonikku)

SonAmy is often referred to, as stated, ソニエミ (SoniEmi)

Sonadow is often referred to as ソニシャ (SoniSha) or シャソニ (ShaSoni)

Sonuckles is ナコソニ (NakoSoni) or ソニナコ (SoniNako)

Shadria is often referred to as シャドマリ (ShadoMari)

Silvaze is often referred to as シルブレ (ShiruBure)

Sonic Unleashed or as it is known in Japan as (Sonic World Adventure) is referred to often as SWA.

Sonic and the Secret Rings is often referred to as ひみりん (Himirin)

Sonic Frontiers is ソニフロ (SoniFuro)

Sonic Adventure is ソニアド. Sonic Adventure 2 is ソニアド２