#tbh i tried to read it before
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aria0fgold · 2 years ago
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YBM/Pursuit is a genuinely interesting fanfic and I'm a lil sad I can't read it. Wanna know what's up about it but whenever I check the page, I get reminded about the tags, the word count, the chapter number and the fact that I have a weak heart that won't be able to handle numerous chapters filled with pain.
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harrowscore · 7 months ago
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why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip
#it's ridiculous. this ship is... stupidly cliché. like if you know fandoms at all#you could easily guess why people would be into it. hello?? have you tried to watch tfa without your hate-on-kyle-ron goggles?#did you watch their scenes together? you don't have to like something to recognize the hints#hell. at the time i didn't really like jonerys but i realized they were going to be a thing when i read agot in 2011#like folks. it's been nearly TEN LONG YEARS. let it go. LET IT FUCKING GOOOO#and for the lucy/cooper shippers out there who think reylos are (again) delusional when they compare the two ships:#no. *you* are being delusional only because you think reylo is unsexy and uncool (which is your right to think btw. obv)#if you can't see why someone would like both of these pairings for similar reasons... idk what to say honestly#people compared it to hannigram... honestly. again i see why they would appeal to anyone who's into both ships#i really do. but... unpopular opinion (since i'm more of a clannibal fan than i could ever be of reylo):#they are more similar to reylo than will/hannibal. there i said it#i'm not talking about the writing (admittedly the quality of it was questionable). i'm talking about tropes#never mind that imo the ghoul is more akin to vader than kylo but whatever#hannibal is an unapologetic kind of villain. he's not gonna have a redemption arc and that's okay#cooper is an antivillain who used to be a good man and became a disfigured cruel bastard. a parody of himself#lucy is him. him before the bombs dropped before he discovered the person he trusted the most wanted to commit genocide#nice. moral. polite. infused with the Good Old American Values™. he's basically her dark side#all of this is very hannigram/clannibal. i'm not denying it at all#but what'll likely happen is that lucy's actions will have a positive influence on the ghoul and remind him of what it means to be a man#and that's way more reylo-like. sorry.#beauty&thebeast/villain with some hidden good in him+morally righteous heroine/enemies to lovers etc.#i mean. hello??..... having said that. i'm not so much of a reylo shipper anymore and tbh never was. i really liked it at the time#but i was never fond of the st era. my fav characters are vader and leia and revan from the old eu. just saying#*and* it's also not impossible lucy gets darker with the ghoul as her traveling companion. in fact i wouldn't dislike it at all#if done well i mean#but i would still like for people to be intellectually honest and less puerile. god knows i have my notps#but i really don't give a fuck about the shippers. good for them i guess? i have better taste lmao but that's heavily subjective#val rambles in the tags#val speaks#txt
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ageofzero · 1 year ago
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a crack in the wall
The thing that struck me immediately, like the first time I saw the scene, was the Director saying “...and now, we have a monster in our kingdom.”
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framed like that, holding the sword she stole so she could frame Ballister.
My literal first thought was “yeah, I’m looking at one right fucking now”. Two seconds later she’s using that sword to get rid of a threat to her order, so like yeah.
It’s not subtle cinema language at all, it’s basically shouting it at me, but I liked it anyway. She’s a threat and the movie is no longer remotely hiding it.
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no1ryomafan · 5 months ago
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God I reaaaally wanna do a video about how kikaider and Casshern influenced mega man cause it’s so obvious and no one talks about it but the issue is I’m also gonna at LEAST need to talk about Astro boy cause I don’t think anyone talked in depth about how it influenced mega man too- but the issue is my attention span can’t handle going through the 50 ep 2003 show-the one I wanna watch-or read the manga since watching long anime and reading manga is something I need to work on💀
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ehlnofay · 1 year ago
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There is a pie on the table.
Not part of one – a whole pie, its crust flaky and steaming, one of its sides beginning to split, leaking its innards onto the serving plate. A whole pie. On a table set for eight. And Torr doesn’t think that Babette even eats.
A whole pie. And sliced turnips, baked with melted cheese, also hot enough to steam; a dish of them. Torr briefly considers stealing it – stupid idea, where would he even take it? What would he do with it? It would be difficult to explain later. Right now his main goal is to not do anything difficult, at least until he’s got more of a sense of the place, of its boundaries. What’s expected. What to expect.
And they’re immediately cocking up that goal, because when invited to a friendly welcome lunch they stopped dead in the middle of the floor to stare wide-eyed at the table.
Veezara, standing behind them, raps politely on their arm with his knuckles. “Do you want to sit?” he asks; Torr has no bloody clue what they want right now – shovel turnips into their face, face stuck into the dish like a pig eating from a trough, maybe, or alternatively to steal the pie and hide it somewhere it will be safe to come back to on a rainy day – but people are sitting (that is generally what is done at lunch tables) so Torr casts a quick glance over the lot of them and sits too.
(He doesn't want to make them wait.)
His chair is one of the ones closest to the doors. It’s quite far down the table from Astrid, who is smiling encouragingly; but Veezara sits next to him seemingly without a thought and sitting directly opposite him is Babette, and Torr's spoken a little to them both. He can't make any claim as to knowing either of them well, but Veezara seems even-keeled and open enough as to be a little reassuring, and Babette, at least has made him laugh.
Next to Babette is Gabriella, her dark hood pulled low over her forehead. She has a perpetually secretive look about her face – one brow slightly raised, lips slightly curled – as if she knows something no-one else does, and the way she looks at Torr makes him think of the way people look at bugs. Not in a bad way – she looks at him in the way people fascinated by bugs look at bugs – but still, he’d rather not be a bug. She catches their eye, half-smiles. “You brought your bag to the table,” she observes.
Torr glances at the floor, where his pack spills out from under his seat where he’s stowed it. Shit. They probably should have left it on the bed Veezara said was theirs, but they honestly didn’t think to; they don’t really want to leave it behind, besides.
“Yeah,” he replies, and nudges it further under his chair with his foot. He feels painfully and awkwardly observed.
(They're all watching; Torr's been here for less than a day, and he's trying to get a sense of the place, and until he understands how it works he needs to keep his head down.)
A tall man wrapped in red readies a gleam-edged knife over the pie platter. At the other end of the table, Astrid smiles. It’s a scimitar of a thing. “You’ve all met our newest Sibling, then?” she asks, in her molasses-rich voice, and the knife sinks into the flesh of the pie in a way that makes Torr want to wince. His stomach feels shaky.
There are various noises of assent from around the table. Torr’s met most everyone by now, all but the white-blonde man sitting silent and displeased by the head of the table, though he hasn’t spoken with most of them for more than a few minutes. Gabriella reaches across the table and levers a slice of pie onto her plate with the carving knife, already sticky with the juices leeched from the meat, torn-up flakes of pastry clinging to the side of the blade. It smells nice.
(It is, Torr tells themself, a normal-sized slice of pie. The same kind of portion sizing they’ve always seen in taverns busy enough not to kick them out. And realistically – based on the numbers Astrid showed them earlier – there’s plenty of room in the Brotherhood’s budget, for, what even are the ingredients of that, flour and meat? Water? It can stretch to cover the turnips no problem.)
“We’ve spoken,” says the man from the kitchen – Nazir, that was it. The tall one, with the gold in his beard. He sounds unimpressed. He does not seem like someone who is often impressed. Gabriella passes on the knife; Torr's eyes track its movement. It's an unconscious effort, but they're stuck – in this moment, breaking bread with a close-knit household of people whose only commonality is a predilection for violence, they cannot stop paying attention.
“Lovely,” Astrid says. Her eyes flash in the torchlight as she turns to face Torr. “Torr, do you feel like you’re getting to know everyone? Settling in?”
Torr manages a quick glance around the table, the room as a whole. They’ve learned most everyone’s names and feel reasonably confident nobody’s going to start screaming at them or start doing blood rituals or something; nobody's going to do anything unprovoked, which is enough of a comfort. They’ve mostly learned the layout of the Sanctuary, too – this bit of the cave opens into the dormitory sort of space just up above, and the big room a bit to the left, the kitchen tucked away in the corner. As cave rooms go, the dining space is quite nice; warm light, lots of room, a relatively even floor. It’s not damp in here like it is in the big room with the little pond. It’s nice and dry. Torr could probably do without a bed – they could kip under the dining table and be fine. (They’ll still take the bed if it’s offered, though.)
“Mostly, yeah.” Torr watches the sticky-dark knife getting passed around the table, the beautiful enormous pie disappearing at a rate that isn’t alarming and is in fact a normal speed for things to be eaten. His throat is dry. “Uh, Veezara showed me the beds and everything. It’s a nice place.”
The old man sitting up the other end of the table pauses, his fork stuck into a slice of turnip. “I hope you don’t think you’re being smart, boy.”
Like Torr’s fool enough to try to be snarky about this. Like they'd try to act smart now, of all times, when he's still feeling out the limits.
“Nah,” he says, tapping narrow fingers against the edge of the table. The ends of them are flushed red; scars from old chilblains, an irritated colour that never goes away. He is breathing evenly; a scraping breath in, one, two, three, a steady breath out. Cave or not – “It’s got a roof, hasn’t it?”
It’s warm – almost stiflingly so – and dry in parts. The rain and snow and wind can’t get in. There’s a whole pie served at the lunch table. Hundreds in gold if he does his job right. What the hell is he going to complain about?
There’s a nudge against his shoulder that is too surprising to make him flinch; when he looks, Veezara is holding out the knife, handle-first. “Oh,” he says; he takes it, because what else is he going to do?
There’s one slice left on the platter, rich and dripping, and plenty of the turnip dish. Torr’s stomach is folding in on itself. They ask Babette, “Are you going to have any?”
“Oh,” she says, “goodness, no,” and she smiles wide, vicious teeth pressing into her lower lip. “No offense to Nazir’s cooking, of course. But my appetites are a tad more discerning.”
Torr replies, “Well, that’s disturbing,” and Babette laughs, and Torr is left gripping the knife hard enough to turn red-flushed knuckles white and staring at the food on the plate. Clumsily sliced pastry, the meat and juices spilling out, running down the sides. Still steaming, just a little. There’s no one else to eat it – most everyone else already served and waiting for them. There’s no-one near who needs it more. But Torr doesn’t quite need it, do they? Not yet. But everyone’s waiting. And good first impressions and all that. And Torr really wants some pie – they just also want to shove it all away, or lock it in a box to save for later.
“Are you not hungry?” Nazir asks, something not unlike challenge in his voice, and Torr is supposed to be keeping his head down. He can't be pushing it already.
It takes Torr a few seconds to even realise that they were spoken to at all. They’re very busy staring at the platter, knife dripping onto their knuckles.
“No,” he says, “I am,” and then Veezara’s cold-scaled fingers are on his hand and he’s taking the carving knife from him, and Torr's shoulders lock in place, breath catching in the base of his lungs – he dithered too long and now they're taking it away – but Veezara lifts the last of the pie on the flat of the blade and drops it, rather squishily and without ceremony, onto Torr’s plate.
Staring at it, Torr says, “Thanks.”
Veezara shrugs and takes up his fork.
The pie is nice, though it takes Torr several seconds to work up to having a bite. He doesn’t know much about cooking, so he can’t pick out each individual taste – but the meat might be veal, or at least pretty similar to how he assumes veal tastes, and it’s good. It sticks in his throat when he swallows. He can hear all the clinking of cutlery around him, twitching at every sound.
Babette, the only one without a plate, leans eagerly over the table, fine dark hair puddling on the wood below her chin. “Astrid told us she pulled the old choose a victim gambit with you,” she says. “I love that one.”
Torr presses their lips together, digs their fork into the misshapen lid of their pastry. “The three innocents in the shack? I didn’t.”
“Innocents?” Gabriella echoes, tilting her head. Her hood slides back from her brow just enough that Torr can see the light playing off the ridge of her forehead; she takes a neat bite and adds, “Wasn’t part of that game that they weren’t?”
Nasty game. An unnecessary piece of showmanship. Torr doesn’t say so, of course. “I think the game was that it didn’t matter,” he says instead, and shrugs, fingers playing at the fork stuck in the pastry lid. His pie slice is warping, spilling its insides over the pottery of his plate. The conversation twists his stomach into knots. “It probably doesn’t matter much now. They’re dead, right?”
He’d specifically suggested that Astrid let the ones left alive stay that way, but she hadn’t seemed all too amenable to it. And from a practical perspective – well, letting them go would just be a liability.
Up the other end of the table, Astrid nods once, vague amusement pulling at the corner of her mouth. Torr feels, strongly, that he has made some very bad life decisions.
(But they’re very bad life decisions that have led to ledgers that record payouts of over a thousand septims and a whole pie at the lunch table. He’ll live.)
Torr looks back at their plate. “It was supposed to be about readiness to follow orders more than about who was and wasn’t meant to die. I think. But all it really proved was the lengths I’d go to to get out of a locked room.” The tines of their fork scrape against a chunk of meat. “And, really, that’s not surprising. I’ve probably done worse for less.”
They immediately regret saying it. Babette’s eyes light up, and they know they’ve opened up an uncomfortable topic. “Have you?” she asks brightly, and sits up straight, shaking out her hair. “For what?"
It’s not an easy line of questioning from anyone, but it’s particularly uncomfortable asked by a girl in a grass-stained kirtle, sitting in a chair too high for her feet to touch the ground. Torr sticks his tongue into his cheek, asks, “Is this dinner-table talk?”
“It’s shop talk,” Gabriella replies.
Babette smiles with all her teeth.
Torr doesn't want to talk about this. Torr's not a snivelling child, or some moralising grundy who assumes that they're in danger of being gutted like the game for the pie at a moment's notice – the worst anyone has been so far is taciturn, it would be absurd to extrapolate so hugely – but it would be equally absurd not to be wary, and Torr is well used to keeping a watch when an unfamiliar situation could begin to turn sour. They want to keep to safer topics, easier things to talk about; they also don't want to say no.
“It’s not exciting,” he hedges, twisting his fork between his fingers; Babette stares until he continues. “Guards, more often than anything else, when I got arrested or – or other people did. People who would've hurt us, or we just needed out of the way." It's as close to a non-answer as he can give while still complying, staring into the smooth filling of the pie.
“How pragmatic,” Veezara says, focused steadily on his meal.
“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t need to.” The pastry lid of Torr’s pie slice is slowly shredding into little pieces scattered around their plate.
Babette tuts. "I suppose I can understand that," she says, fingers pressing into the table; the rest of them watch with unsettling attention. "I wonder – you're young. You must have started about when I did."
Torr shrugs, noncommital; makes a pitiful attempt at changing the subject. “This pie is really good – Nazir, right?”
Nazir does not blink. “That compliment would carry more weight if you’d actually eaten any.”
Torr presses his lips together; manages to scoop some filling onto his fork and spend several seconds chewing. Babette keeps staring at him, unblinking; when he swallows, he says, "Ten years old with a beard knife," because he doesn't want to say no directly and he hopes there won't be any follow-up questions.
Babette’s face lights up. “Oh, really? I was almost ten years old with teeth.” The torchlight is flashing off the points of her fangs. “What a delightful coincidence.”
Torr shrugs and turns his attention back to his plate.
“If we’re talking business,” Astrid says silkily, a much smoother subject change than Torr’s earlier half-hearted attempt, “then I should ask – Nazir, do we have any smaller contracts open that might suit our dear new Sibling?”
The torchlight flashes off the gold in Nazir’s beard as he tips his head, considering. “I’m sure we do,” he says, “though I’d have to check our records. There are a few that I don’t think anyone requested I assign them lingering.”
Babette knocks her foot into Torr’s shin under the table (with considerable effort; she has to slide down so far in her chair to reach them that they can’t see her chin.) “You’re getting the dregs,” she says sympathetically. Her gleaming eyes don’t look particularly pitying.
Nazir tuts at her, slicing off a bite of his pie. “It’s only fair. He’ll have to be here longer than half a morning if he wants the glamorous jobs.”
“I’m fine without the glamour.” They’re not particularly confident in their ability to kill with the stereotypical panache that may be expected with whatever jobs qualify as glamorous. They’ll take the simple work.
“Good,” Astrid says definitively. “You’d be surprised at how much of our work is correspondence. Cutting deals. You know, the boring parts. Not that you’d be assigned to do any of that just yet.” Her head snaps up, blonde hair rippling over her shoulder. “Oh, that reminds me – I got word from our contact in the Three Coins. New intel, hopefully. Any takers?”
Torr, who barely knows what she’s talking about, stays silent, pushing his fork around his plate and gathering a third bite of almost all pastry. It’s the white-blonde man in the seat next to Astrid who speaks up (bit of a surprise, that – Torr doesn’t think he’s even heard him talk yet), saying gruffly, “I’ll go. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Nottov.”
Babette grins, fingers pressing against the table. “How sweet. Reconnecting with your little friend.”
The man bristles; Astrid, smiling, says, “Don’t be mean, Babette.”
“Me?” Torr’s only known her for an hour and change but even so they’re already beginning to tell when she’s playing it up – leaning into the rounded, girlish bubble of her voice, opening her eyes as wide and childlike as they’ll go. “I would never!”
“She would never, Astrid,” Gabriella agrees solemnly.
The old man almost audibly rolls his eyes. The white-blonde one is glaring so hard he seems to be trying to set fire to the table with the sheer power of his unrestrained rage. Torr takes a fourth bite to stifle a laugh.
Then, as they all keep chattering, shifting from shop talk to inside jokes and strange banter, Torr released slowly from the vice of their attention, they take a fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth. At the tenth, they stop counting.
It’s not neat. Their slice of pie was a bit lopsided to begin with, and it’s spent a while cooling on their plate, slowly spilling its innards out onto the ceramic. They managed to shred most of the pastry lid with the tines of their fork. And it isn’t that Torr doesn’t know how to eat with utensils – it’s just that they’re a tad out of practice, let’s say. Even in the short time they spent living in Aventus’ house they never brought themself to eating off a plate. It felt too easy.
Torr’s a bit out of practice, and he rips the pie apart as he eats it, crumbs and sauce strewn over the plate and a little over the table space between the dish and the edge where he sits. A little over his lap. He eats it bite after bite after bite after bite, each one begun before he’s even fully swallowed the last, and when he’s done he runs a sticky finger around edge of the plate, collecting the scraps, licking them off. His throat aches. Veezara, who is at the time in the middle of the sentence, reaches out for the platter of sliced turnip without breaking the thread of his conversation and slides it all onto Torr’s now empty plate. Their teeth are stained with gravy; there's a lump growing abruptly in their throat. They dig in to that, too. They wouldn't want to be rude.
It's so warm down here, the fires in the braziers ever-flickering, the food fresh-cooked. Torr is left in surplus and in silence to watch the rest of them chatter and laugh. It's nothing like a house in frozen Windhelm, clutter-full of waifs and strays; but Torr's stomach isn't so tight, his lungs relaxing enough to take in a full breath. He could be in any bunkhouse, dining with any unfamiliar clan. His throat aches. He could be okay.
(An hour and a half later, Gabriella finds him throwing up into the dank, mossy corner of a dark hallway.
“Oh,” she says, her voice shaded with distaste. “Okay.”
Torr wants to reply – to beg some sort of pardon, keep his head down, soothe the anxiety twisting in the hollow of his chest – but he’s a bit preoccupied by retching up his entire intestines into the dirt. His vomit tastes of rancid veal. It’s not nice; he’d forgotten how gross this was. The last few times he was sick like this he hadn’t eaten enough for it to taste of much of anything.
He hopes this doesn’t put him off the pie. It was really good.
He catches his breath – yuck – wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, gasps out, “Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” Gabriella says, satin-smooth.
It’s not fine, though; this is a shit first impression. Or second, third. Whatever. “Sorry,” Torr repeats. They twist their head to try to take a breath that doesn’t smell of half-digested meat. “Didn’t mean to make a mess. Just – ate too much.” They haven’t gorged themself like that since – who even knows, actually? It was more at once than they’d normally have in a day. Even when they had that much food – well, there was always someone who needed it more, wasn’t there?
They’re about to apologise again, but their stomach spasms and they lean over their nasty little puddle again, gagging.
“Okay,” Gabriella says. She has a soothing voice. Her hand, placed calmly on the ridge of Torr’s back, is cool to the touch. “Maybe you should slow down at dinnertime, then?”
She says it like it’s an inside joke, but it grabs Torr by the throat. More food. More food again, today; more food any time they want it. It’s a concept understood only in the abstract. “Dinnertime,” he repeats distantly, half wonderstruck; and then he’s sick again.)
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podraje · 5 days ago
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Just got some time to relax and chill after a whole week of not having many free evenings. My birthday week ended, my family who visited left, we had to clean once more and now I can finally sit by myself and do stuff.
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yuridovewing · 1 year ago
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yknow i wassss gonna gut the cinderheart reincarnation plotline for razorverse because of how clumsy and insidious the original was… but i have been playing pokemon rejuvenation and now i sorta wanna take influence from that game’s reincarnation plot. where the reincarnation is actually a curse that is detrimental to both cinders and has damaging psychological effects on everyone involved
#i mean ig the original plot had hints of that but it was less that and more ‘’omg we gotta make THIS life worth it!!! (aka not disabled)#which this wouldnt have#id totally gut the disability angle altogether tbh#but im imagining like theres legit magic going on. probably bc of the tunnels#maybe cinderpelt was the first cat to realize there was something up with the tunnels. and she accidentally cast a light spell in there#and she began to experiment a bit. and this is what drives her attention away from leafpool for a bit#i wouldnt know what EXACTLY shes doing. maybe she found it before the moonpool was found and wanted to try and create a starclan entry#for the other medics#and once the moonpool was found she tried to stop but realized she wanted to experiment more#like. can she try and contact starclan on her own? could she figure out how exactly starclan ticked?#and she gets in contact with rock who sorta takes her on as a disciple…#im thinking every cat is capable of reading starclan but it varies and cinders’s sense was very low#so she was trying to compensate for that#it distracts her from clan life and pulls her away and suddenly the bubbly cinderpelt everyone knows has just vanished#but they brush it off as the trauma from the journey#but then we get to her death- she’d been trying to create that pathway and as ive said RV!Starclan is a spiritual anomaly#where cats are supposed to reincarnate but instead they linger#creating the starclan group. but in tampering with magic- cinderpelt got locked out of the starclan cycle somehow and got cursed#the same curse as rock- every time she is slain#her body shifts and transforms and is ‘’reset’’ into a young kitten. into cinderheart#the soul of cinderpelt is trapped in there and it will stay trapped til the curse is broken. and the cycle will repeat when cinderheart dies#im thinking cinderheart reconnects with rock to look into this and shes tied in with the jayfeather plotline#and she struggles with feeling like a freak of nature who was born from tragedy#she gets added to sorrels litter and they pretend shes her bio kit but leafpool and the family knows the truth#razorverse
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intomybubble · 5 months ago
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Nooo this is my third GL manga where the main characters are adults, and one of them is married. It was with Even though we’re adults, Run away with me girl and now Pinky Candy Kiss
Uugh and i was really digging how Pink candy kiss started too bc the chemistry with the FLs were good. Now we have to deal with the straight obligation before we get the happy lesbians
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ajdrawshq · 6 months ago
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on the note of you not getting the best grade at DMing (but a good grade at friend!!!) did you ever get around to reading Kay's zero escape fic I don't even remember when I mentioned it but surely I mentioned it to you right did I :0
... also I have been getting a bad grade in getting back into playing rpgs I'm sory 😭
OH SHIT DID I...... I DONT THINK I HAVE..... i swear i remember u mentioning it to me at some point but i mustve just completely forgot after a while im so sorry;; maybe its somewhere in our dms.. ill check for it there after i wake up (< FOR REAL THIS TIME..) but maybe itd be easier if u sent it again just in case? thank u SO much for reminding me bc i would Not have remembered this myself,,
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chadsuke · 1 year ago
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Comics Read in 2023:
The Whole of Humanity Has Gone Yuri Except for Me Vol. 1 by Hiroki Haruse (2019)
The Whole of Humanity Has Gone Yuri Except for Me Vol. 2 by Hiroki Haruse (2020)
Ogi's Summer Break Vol. 1 by Koikawa (2021)
Ogi's Summer Break Vol. 2 by Koikawa (2021)
7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! Vol. 1 by Hinoki Kino, Touko Amekawa, & Hachipisu Wan (2021)
7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! Vol. 2 by Hinoki Kino, Touko Amekawa, & Hachipisu Wan (2021)
7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! Vol. 3 by Hinoki Kino, Touko Amekawa, & Hachipisu Wan (2022)
My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Vol. 1 by Satoru Yamagachi & Nami Hidaka (2019)
My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Vol. 2 by Satoru Yamagachi & Nami Hidaka (2019)
[ID: Covers of aforementioned books. End ID.]
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storm-of-feathers · 1 year ago
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christ.
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sevicia · 11 months ago
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also I almost fell really deep into a rabbit hole tonight cause like. 🆗 here's the sequence of events:
A few weeks ago: Want to play fatal frame -> find undubbed version -> find PS2 emulator -> check if my cute little laptop meets the minimum requirements -> it does Thank God
Today: Actually download everything I need to -> start up the install wizard for the emulator -> it needs a BIOS key -> go on r/Roms -> find what I need -> still snoop around various sites as I love digital archiving -> go back to the site I DLd the game from -> "Hmm I wonder what other games they have" -> visual novel that looks old as fuck on homepage -> click -> says "This may as well be the very first game to be called a "Visual Novel"." -> intrigued, look it up on VNDB -> it's an eroge, don't really care -> hit "Random VN" just cuz -> first two VNs are nothing special
Still today, but after hitting the "Random" button a 3rd time: VN doesn't even have a cover img, written playtime, or desc -> only a title, release date and other non-plot related info -> look it up -> nothing comes up, only a novelization for an anime -> go to the official site -> it's a link to the Wayback Machine version of it -> snoop around -> publisher has a bunch more stuff on the site -> click on "works" -> some comics, lots of VNs and stories -> none of the DLs work (obvi) -> some pages were not even archived -> start getting that Itch I feel sometimes to find out as much as I can about a thing -> have to go to the bathroom -> close laptop -> decide I can't do this RN because I'll get too into it and just not sleep at all -> spend hours on my phone anyways
I'm gonna try 2 sleep now for it is 4.20 AM 🫂
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vampfucker666 · 2 years ago
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any comics enjoyers that follow me.... where do you actually download these TT_TT i know where to find them just to read online, but i wanna have them in my nice 2page up reader program lol
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hellonoblesky · 2 years ago
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Another hard question.
Most out of touch and popular head Canon/theory?
(don't fell obligated to answer if you find it too controversial, no issues taken)
HAHA. Like 80% of the popular ones. As a vet of the game (and someone who, at the peak of their fixation, had 90% of the entire lore memorized (that was pre-Sumeru)), a LOT of fan theories/headcanons get popular on the rule of cool alone instead of actual probability
But here's a list of the ones off the top of my head that get on my nerves:
Pierro being related to Kaeya -> Annoys me to a rabid degree, doesn't line up with their timelines, doesn't make sense, overhyped
Dainsleif having raised Kaeya as a child -> Fun concept! Doesn't make sense with my understanding of either of their timelines, Dainsleif would have interacted on-screen with Kaeya earlier if this was the case (considering in 2/3 of the Dainquests we've BEEN IN MONDSTADT FOR PART OF IT)
Diluc/the Ragnvinders are descendants of Vanessa -> the og Ragnvinder could never pull her, sorry but he was kinda a loser, he was obsessed with a different Muraten (who DIED and that's what radicalized him), if he WAS directly descended from AN EXTREMELY PROMINENT HISTORICAL FIGURE LIKE VANESSA IT WOULD BE POINT BLANK MENTIONED, Diluc's bright red hair is a feature his family line has had since the Decaabrian era
Kaeya only pretends to like alcohol as an excuse to see Diluc in the tavern -> 0 reading comprehension here, Kaeya's an alcoholic because he has deep-rooted issues that he struggles to deal with the thoughts of, he's not faking it just to see Diluc, if that was the case Wine wouldn't be his hobby, his interest, one of the first thing he mentions in the serenetea pot, etc.
Kaeya choosing Mondstadt is the objectively "Good" choice and him choosing Khaenri'ah will make him inherently "Evil" -> Stupid
Fuckboy Kaeya -> Most awful mischaracterization of him ever get it AWAY I hate it
Kaeya hiding behind Diluc as a kid and being very jumpy/shy (in the OwOUwU sad boy way, not in the Kaeya Allows Diluc To Take The Lead And Keeps His Distance A Lot Because He Doesn't Want To Make A Mistake way) -> Eugh. Rubs me the wrong way, mischaracterizes him, feels like he's being babied, I hate it
Everyone and their mothers calling Venti's backstory tragic bc he lost his bestie literally 2,600 years ago -> Someone who wasn't trained in battle and didn't have protections in a rebellion against a god?? DIED?? WHO could have seen that one coming. Like sorry you lost your buddy pal Venti but also. IT WAS TWENTY-SIX CENTURIES AGO
Khaenri'ah being a war-bent nation -> Hey guys maybe a nation literally built by people who were persecuted by GODS is going to try and make some defenses against THE GODS. Was it a bad idea for them to make things like Ruin Golems? MAYBE!! Could they also have served more uses than just battle?? YEAH!!!! IT WAS A FUCKIGN UNDERGROUND NATION GUYS MAYBE THE MISSILES AND BULLETS WERE USED FOR??? FUCKING MINES. EXPANDING THE CAVE SYSTEM. I DUNNO GUYS LETS THINK REALLLY HARD FOR A SECOND. "Oh but the fields are tilled by blood" Yeah. Construction work is deadly. Especially who knows how deep underground
Khaenri'ah and the Abyss are the same place -> No
Kaeya's the one who should apologize first -> Literally no
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saturnskyline · 2 years ago
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i am once again giving a shoutout to all kp fic writers, especially the gremlins (affectionate) that now have me regularly reading cousin incest by proxy ❤️ a truly enlightening experience, thank you all for your service
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keroseneinhalers · 2 years ago
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just got so happy finally the manhwa im reading GAVE THE MAIN GIRL A BREAK this bitch just suffers it’s not even funny. i love her though. she’s my baby girl even if her entire life has been a nightmare …patting her softly on the head
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