#thats why its all so rusted in there

[thatancient2]

THIS IS GETTING OUT OF HAND

THERE ARE UNDERWATER RIFTS NOW???

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I HAVE A LOT OF REGRETS ABOUT THAT

osamu dazai x reader, 18 dark ages! dazai

you take care of dazai while he’s ill and in a rare moment of vulnerability.

for 🚬 anon! thank you for supporting 🤍

inspired by this is me trying

he didn’t think it was possible to be so ahead.

he was only 18, and had committed hundreds of crimes. he was a young man, and yet the star pupil of the mafia boss. he had only been in the world for less than a few decades, and yet knew the world better than anyone.

so was he ahead, or was he behind? perhaps he was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

his head is pounding, feeling the ache in his eyes. his body feels slack, like its giving up on him despite only just growing it itself. he’s weak, and hiding out in his apartment like a coward. if someone wanted to kill him, now would be the time to do it.

luckily, thats not what you’re here to do. much to his dismay.

he was wary at first, letting you in. he says the usual- that he’ll get you sick and that he can handle himself. but the man who’s wrapped in bandages clearly can’t take care of himself, even if its just a simple cold.

so you trudge in anyway, sighing at his empty fridge with only a few expired contents. how he was surviving was a mystery to you.

so you put together what you can, forging a soup with crab meat so he’ll actually eat it. you don’t know, but he’s watching you from his bedroom.

he’s not used to being taken care of.

truthfully, he could follow his fears all the way down. he could let his shiny wheels rust, and succumb to the realities of life. its what he always preaches about, anyway. he says he wants death, but more so just a reason to go on. whether there was one for him was a different question.

he sighs wearily when you bring a bowl of soup to him, only realizing how hungry he is when he can smell it wafting towards his nostrils. “thank you, darling.” he hums, not caring for the way it slightly burns his fingertips when he takes it from you.

normally, he’d call you an angel for taking care of him, and ask you to commit double suicide holding his hand. you know he’s tired when all he can manage is a thank you before he’s eating the soup like its his first meal in days. honestly, it might have been.

“how are you feeling?” you ask, sitting next to him on the bed. he almost smiles when you put hour hand against his forehead, feeling his temperature. maybe he loves your cold hands against his burning hot skin, or maybe he loves you. probably both.

he resigns to remain strong. because he doesn’t want to be an open wound. its hard to be anywhere these days when all he wants is you, but he can’t admit that. what would happen if he trusted? if he let himself be saved? who would he lose?

“i’m okay.” he says, curving his dehydrated lips into a smile.

you sigh.

his lies are a flashback in a film reel. you’ve seen them before, but they still hurt.

“don’t give me that.” you say, clutching his bandaged hands. “let me care about you, ‘samu.”

for just a moment there, his smirk falls.

he’s used to being told that all his problems are mental. he’s used to getting wasted at bars, like all his potential. he’s used to downing everything he could have been, had he not been exposed to evil at such a young age.

evil expects evil from others. dazai himself was evil. so why weren’t you?

he doesn’t know. but he knows he’s anything but okay right now.

“i’m… tired. and my head is killing me.” he whispers, setting aside his near empty bowl of soup. he looks tired.

you don’t say anything, but he does let you gently push him onto the bed. his heart flutters when he feels you tuck the blankets around him, and end with a kiss on his forehead.

“you rest.” you hum. “i’m gonna go do your groceries. you need more than just instant food, ‘samu. but you are paying me back.”

he’s too tired to protest, and maybe he loves being taken care of. this is him trying.

[ifwdominicfike]

you try to get guitarist!matt to listen to one taylor swift song since he apparently “hates” her music

── .✦. ──

“matt im telling you, one song wouldn’t hurt you. or are you just too scared you’ll like it?” you felt the chillest breeze outside and decided to play folklore on repeat because who wouldn’t? anyway, matt was fed up with hearing about “some girl complaining about her failed relationships” but you couldn’t care less.

“sweetheart, it’s literally just the same song but about a different guy. she’s too overplayed i don’t get how you like that shit” he scoffs, making his way around the couch. “everyone says that though, you’ve only heard her pop songs that why — her other songs are masterpieces. all of her lyrics are basically me.” you sarcastically say — but not really.

as he sits down on the cushion you scoot your way over to him, laying your head on his shoulder. “pleaseee just one song? i promise you’ll like it, well hopefully i dont know.” you ask with a smile, he lets out a sigh and finally agrees. “yeah sure come on, show me this song then sweetheart.”

you now have the biggest smile on your face and get up from your comfortable position, and turn to make your way to your shared room to grab headphones “wait here” you excitedly say, as if he would vanish the second you were gone.

when you came back with the black bulky headphones he was already looking your way, smiling at your excited state. “this better be good if you’re this happy about this, if i don’t like the song and its some girly girl pop shit, m’clowning your ass for it.” he jokes when putting on the headphones and adjusting them, you were a little nervous — it was obviously something he would never in a million years listen to on his own but he always shows you his music so whats the worst that can happen ?

you figured why not something from your favorite album of hers, folklore. you were going through the tracklist trying to figure out which song until you were pulled out of your thoughts by matt groaning. “come on sweetheart, m’falling asleep over here” he fakes yawns and rubs at his eyes. “shush i have the song ready, now listen its my favorite!”

you click on the song and look up at him to watch his reaction, you obviously can’t hear the music but you already know how it goes “i’ve been having a hard time adjusting, i had the shiniest wheels now they’re rusting.”

as the song continues to play you can see matt swaying a little, you smile when you notice the amusement on his face. the bridge of the song starts up and he stops all movement, listening carefully as the lyrics spew into his ears. he looks over at you in disbelief, jaw dropped as the song now fades out and he’s slipping off the headphones.

“sweetheart thats you’re favorite song?” he says sniffling “well y-yeah? why is it bad?” you ask confused “no, not at all- s’just really fucking sad” he said chuckles before pulling you into a hug “if y’think thats sad then i need to show you more”

“her music s’not that bad i guess..” he says sarcastically “matt please- you were damn near crying i don’t wanna hear it.”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i love folklore. i AM folklore. anywayyy new blurb!!! im so happyyyy i finally finished ONE of my drafts 😭😭

wait omg i forgot to tag you @bluestriips ik you like guitarist!matt !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott

[mellohd]

heres some practice harry sketches i took the pics with my sony cybershot im so giddy rn

so far here are my thoeries SPOILERS!!

I originally thought that harry killed his wife or something because i got spoiled a bit on the series but it turns out thats a diff guy(which i only found out after finding some really cute fanart where they were next to eachother and i was like oh)

I think Harry and his daughter were chosen by this devil worshipping cult (samael mentioned) for something. I think cheryll died maybe(the tape mentioning a child and a fever etc) and is trapped in that hell but im not sure about that.(before i was like 100% he killed his wife and burried in repressed memory and cheryll died at some point BOOM im so smart but then yea i saw that he wasn't blonde guy)

Harry keeps flipping between two worlds, one limbo type one and industrial hell with all the grates and rust. almost like flipping between living and dead world. I say dead because that nurse is 1000% dead I suspected it before i looked up a ref for harry and saw a meme about it and that spoiled she was dead. she was all like "I feel i should not leaveeeee... im so cold harry........." and then i went back in the room and she was gone SUSPICIOUS!

Im really excited to see if cheryll is actually living or not because shes REAAALLY suspicious and alsoo this place is messing with Harry's head, whenever he goes into hell hill hes all like i hear sirens there its like a dream. Like, maybe she died in the car crash or of an illness, or maybe in an accident at work(thats a stretch but the grates rust and windmills is really stumping me! also the tiny babies running around him at the school and stuff allll so interesting) OH OH OR MAYBE CHERYLL NEVER LIVED IN THE FIRST PLACE? DIED AS A BABY? thats why those freindly fetus's were doing 360s around harry??

OH or maybe cheryll died at the car crash and theyre using her soul as leverage in silent hell mode to get harry to do something? AHH SO MANY POSSIBILITIES SO EXCITED!!! I also think that harry is supposed to be the one that maybe guides everyone out of silent hill or save it or whatever. I mean thats kind of obvious with how dahlia speaks I KNOW i just find her comparing him to the hermit and thats the path he needs to follow the hermits path. the hermit, to my knowledge is associated with a lonely man who completed his journey and lends a guiding light to the poeple that are still climbing the summit, i think theres more to it than that in comparison to henry(and also the card itself can be interepreted in many ways) but i haven't thought TOOO much about it yet I just find the camparison reaallllyyyy interesting OHH OH FOLLOW THE HERMITS PATH NOT DIRECTLY CALLING HIM THE HERMIT so he needs to complete his journey to help save the others, maybe healing from trauma of some kind?(CHERYLS DEATHHHH?????)

also interesting thing i noticed when we saw her tied up on the computer screens was it looked like, at what i thought at first was a map, but looks like sigils? They line up pretty well with a sigil grid, the circles reminded me of the starter points but i think im just making useless connections(even tho there do seems to be themes relating to witchcraft & the occult?) JUST SOMETHING I NOTICED also YES I KNOW his daughter is the protaganist in another game doesnt mean that something supernatural and weird and deathy didn't happen to her smh EEEEEEEK SO EXCITED TO FINISH THE GAME!!! IM ON THE WAY TO THE LAKE RN!

[fwol-jintu]

Shen yuan as a ghost except its a sword grave and he's like the only sword intact there

So imagine this

Binghe goes on an adventure blah blah blah and he stumbles upon a huge ass graveyard except its literally all just swords that have been planted there in honor of the warriors who fell in a battle, each sword having a carving of some sort somewhere to signify who owned them

As binghe walked around and approached one of them however, he finds this sword is.. nameless, ownerless, or so it seems. No carvings, no designation, and yet its the only one intact.

Its not chipped, no scratch or break or weakness point that signified that it had been broken once, nothing. Well except for maybe a little bit of rust and dirt, but still.

He wonders if he should pull it out of the ground to inspect it more. He tries, ignoring the ever persistent screams of his own sword. It seems more agitated than usual.

Ah.. huh? For some reason, he can't pull it out. Slightly frustrated, he takes out xin mo to cut it down- and then hesitated. He's not that bad, no. He ultimately decides against cutting the sword. So be it, remain ownerless.

He inspected the other swords, did try to take them out a few times, but none slipped out. He gave up at trying and just looked around. For some reason, he came back around to the intact sword.

He looked around, and then spotted a particular sword grave. It had a flower, or rather a.. wilted flower. Seems like someone came to visit, and judging by the flower type its probably been 6 days.

He stares at the grave, at the sword. His vision allowed him to read the carved name despite the characters being small. ...Yuguo? Foolish fruit? What kind of name- he doesn't question it. Maybe thats why the owner died. They were "foolish."

He leaves the graveyard. He swears he was leaving, but for some reason he came back... with a new flower. The new flower will die anyway, what was he doing? This is stupid.

...still, he replaces the wilted with a fresh one. He doesn't know how long that one will last. Its a foolish payment, who was he even paying respects to? For all he knew, it could've been-

.... the dark clouds of his mind pester. He shouldn't be like this, he's in a graveyard goddamnit. What if the sword spirits feed on his negativity and manifest? Hah! Who will have the last laugh then, he wonders....

Uh, what the- "aww what a sweet man. Showing respect to the unreturning, are you?" A spirit in the form of a graceful woman conjured almost by wind appears before him, a wide smile and the look of amusement.

????

More start to manifest, little by little, and they all look at him, quipping comments and observations.

"Ho? And here i thought only your descendant is alive. Now who's this handsome lad visiting us unreturnees?" A spirit in the form of an old man said.

"Ooo! Is he not perhaps the new lord that your clumsy lower sheep speaks of?~" this time, the spirit that spoke was in the form of a devilish child, grinning an uncanny smile.

"Does anyone know this uhh.. dog?" "Stop referring to people as animals you one-tap imbecile!" "Hey! Why do you say that to me but not Sahuang?!" "Thats because ---------!!"

Two spirits argue out of nowhere. He did not appreciate being called a dog.

before he can tell them off and show them the title of emperor of the 3 realms, they suddenly vanish.

Like a faint memory, It was all quiet again.

Quiet?

He focused, suddenly. Quiet? Too quiet. Xin mo's voice wasn't bothering him. Before, xin mo was absolutely screaming at him to get out, now suddenly its all quiet.

He becomes slightly dazed though instead of becoming sharper and more wary of his surroudings. The lack of distraction made him suddenly realize he may or may not lacked sleep. He didn't really need sleep, but the emotional exhaustion from all these days was getting to him.

....

Thud.

"Seriously? He fell asleep?"

"Perhaps we were too fightening for the poor lamb, nyehehehe~"

"Ah, youngsters these days..."

..........

He wakes up when he feels a leaf fall onto him. Hm? A leaf? He cracked open his eyes and was immediately assaulted by light. He jolts awake. What...

....

Oh. He.. he fell asleep in a graveyard.

What the fu-

Anyways its getting too long so imma just say that he interacts with the spirits and shen yuan for a while, and then gets a child (courtesy of the Yuguo woman and everyone apparently deciding they were the child's great uncles and aunts) whom he decides to take in (cuz his new family of spirits practically begged him to take care of their only relative)

Oh also prior to his baby inquirement the spirits and him have eventually buddied up (it took weeks but they were friendly enough, even the devilish spirit Sahuang who also happened to be a softie at heart apparently)

and he talked abt his problems w them and all such, mostly shen yuan cuz he was the one usually awake since his intact sword meant his spirit could stay visible for longer

("why does the story seem familiar...?" it took an emberrassing amount of time for shen yuan to realize that was binghe. By the time he did realize, it was maybe sorta too late?)

oh also he opted to sleep at the graveyard sometimes. Most times. Because. No nightmares. Good sleep. No voices in his head telling him to kill someone immediately as he wakes up. Just peace.

(And if the wives notice his absence? Pfft, no. If they question his new kid? "I took her in. Shes adopted." and if he stays at the graveyard for a little while longer each day because they care more about him than anyone ever have? No questions asked.)

And he also got permission to move their swords. Yippai. (He proceeded to clean every one of them and put them in a big special room and if anyone asks why the big meeting room only has swords seated on the chairs and why binghe spends so much time in it, no one answers)

(He kept their brokenness though despite his own protests. They all said its now apart of them and they "cannot return" so its merely fond memories now.)

Did i mention all the swords (or sword spirits) are actually transmigrators and shen yuan isnt alone in this :3

_______________

Some noble: but my lord, can't we just use that room? (Points to the room they passed by that clearly has just enough space for the rest of the other demons)

Said room is the spirit room

Binghe gets angry at the mere suggestion

"Incident" happened

No one talks abt it ever again

____________

Nyy brushing the kid's hair while watching binghe kneel on the ground infront of shen yuan bc he used his powers to choke sahuang out of frustration and sahuang was Not Happy abt it so she snitched to shen yuan (shen yuan vanished after 2.1 seconds of binghe kneeling bc how dare he scold THE protaganist. Yuguo had to take over and make both Sahuang and Binghe apologize to each other lol)

[official-saul-goodman]

This is mainly my observation as a non black person watching the reactions of other non black people and especially white people to the show Interview With The Vampire, they are a result of a fundamental misunderstanding regarding the idea of horror.

in a world of white dominated hollywood horror movies that mostly contain gore and white familial tragedy and abuse, none of which ever ever include the concept of race, misogyny and homophobia, racialised misogyny, and racialised homophobia- people cannot digest a horror tv show wherein the main character is a black man who is always and forever a victim of systematic, social, and microaggressive racism. people, specifically white people, have always been uncomfortable with being shown the extent of anti black racism in a way that isnt heavily sanitised or sympathetic to the white cause. to white people, the genre of horror simply does not include race cause they have not experienced the horrors of colonialist genocidal white supremacist anti black racism. and i highlight anti black racism because it is the subject of the show, as well as being a topic that is discussed vaguely by non black people while still being the most perpetuated form of racism from a global standpoint.

to white people especially, as the people who are responsible for the worst crimes committed against black people, anti blackness is just one of life's constants that should not be addressed directly or in detail, so to depict anti black racism so openly as a part of the genre of horror is incomprehensible to them. they dont want to be shown even a smidgen of exactly the kind of shit their ancestors and peers are responsible for, cause horror to them must just be things that they relate to and nothing regarding race at all cause it causes them to confront their comfortable positions. this is the same reason why you see white people saying jordan peele's movies are 'too hard to understand' despite being very easy to understand.

horror to people of colour is a concept that intrinsically includes racialised violence, its a constant presence like a rusted nail hovering near an open wound. and white people reject this. which is why they decided to degrade and miscontrue the purpose of iwtv and call it 'just another self important show thats racist and not worth watching'. cause to them horror is meant to be enjoyable, they want limbs chopped off not the actions of their white ancestors coming back to remind and haunt them. even though horror is a genre that is meant to fill you with... horror. horror to white people does not include the politics of racism, cause they see horror as an apolitical genre (obviously incorrect when everything and the kitchen sink is political naturally).

to the people of color, it is a moment of feeling seen, to see a main character ( a flawed man a pained man) experience the horror of all round racial discrimination, to see the horror of him being dismissed and exploited by the white people around him, the moment of witnessing yourself in the other when you see Louis and Claudia being so utterly sabotaged by so many forces, the way they are pushed to making irreversible devastating decisions cause they think they have no other choice to achieve an escape from a multitude of things they suffer through, the manipulation and abuse they had to become accustomed to. this is the horror, the horror of being immortalised against your will and lack of choices you were given, the horror of being forced to be subjected to racialised misogynistic and homophobic violence for eternity. being forced to live with all these memories and no means of forgetting. all this while enduring the way a white man belittles them for even suggesting that he might be racist while he expresses racist micro agressions (both lestat and daniel). this is real horror that hits home, horror you want to devour as a person of colour cause you want to see more of this story continue, to see what becomes of this living limbo that Louis, Claudia, and eventually Armand have to go through.

and as most white people cannot fathom this, cannot relate, they dismiss this version of horror that focuses on racism as a core element from the perspective of a black man and forever young black girl. they dismiss the show as just being tone deaf colour blind casting cause they didnt even see the trailer or try to understand this show. the white guilt is a shield they use to defend themselves against the frank and honest depiction of anti black racism from the perspective of a black man. they do not want to understand. they want sanitised, digestible depictions of racism so the horror remains fun for them.

even though this show is literally categorised as horror, and has all the hallmarks of classic horror including the camp styling, the blood, the gore, the supernatural, and the violence - the single fact that the show's core theme is based around racism from the perspective of a gay black vampire man is enough for them to declassify as horror in their minds. cause people of colour and especially black gay men must always be shown as having a good time to dissuade the guilt of white people and their responsibility is establishing the systems that oppress gay black men. speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil, and the evil is not there anymore.

i may have more thoughts on this that i'll express later but thats all i have for now.

[sirxlla]

Ink, Paper, Mud & Memories

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

Warnings: Angst

Prompt: Remembering Jason/Writing in your journal after Jason dies + "I'm alright until Im alone and lately thats all the time. Who else can I talk to? I'm lost. When you left, you took everything with you. The absence of you is everywhere I look. It's like a huge hole has been punched through my chest but in a way I'm glad. The pain is my only reminder that you were real, that you all were." <- from New Moon.

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

"I wanna compare it to the worst of the worst. Tell everyone its been hell without Jason but it's not Hell. Hell serves a purpose in punishment and its deserved. He didn't deserve to die, I didn't deserve to lose the only man I ever loved, to have Joker send me that goddamn tape...that tape. I see it in my restless hours, I hear his screams in my darkest nightmares. I smell blood in the sweet musk of his cologne, the comforting smell now tainted by what smells like rust or iron."

"To say I'm in hell without Jason would be an understatement. This isnt Hell, this is Purgetory, an endless void of nothingness. The meaning of my being having been sucked from my very soul like a- there's nothing to compare it to, everything feels like an understatement. Nothing comes close."

"I miss his smile, that warm smile that he used to give me. His eyes were bright and so full of life. I wish I could only remember those happy eyes but every time I remember his eyes I see the dead look on his face after Joker beat him to a pulp."

-"That asshole, that fuckin asshole. I'd do anything to avenge Jace. I'd do it without question if Bruce and the others wouldn't keep such an annoying watchful eye over me."

-"I wanna watch Joker burn, watch him beg for mercy as his flesh melts from his bones...Who am I kidding? He's psychotic. He wouldn't care. He'd probably piss himself laughing before he ever screamed."

"Everyone's watchful eyes are annoying but I know they mean well, they want whats best for me, what Jason would want."

-"What Jason would want? Jason would want to be alive!"-

"Jason would want me to be happy, to move on, to find someone. But who do I find? Who is even remotely comparable to such an amazing man? Who's smile brightens up a room like his? Who can make me laugh the way he did? Who's curly hair smells the way his does? Who's gonna click his pen so much I find it annoying but miss it so deeply now that it's gone? Who's him? No one's him."

"Everything feels fine until I'm alone, the pains the only reminder of him, a reminder of his short existence on this planet."

"Who am I writing to? Why am I writing this? Who will read this? Is this helping? WHY AREN'T YOU HERE?! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU JUST HAD TO GO AFTER JOKER ALONE! I HATE YOU! HOW COULD YOU EVER BE SO FUCKIN STUPID?! YOU WEREN'T STUPID SO WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO SOMETHING SO DUMB! GODDAMN IT, JASON!"

You ripped the notebook into pieces and threw it across the room. Nothing was helping, it had been two years and everyone kept telling you that you would 'heal', 'give it time', 'you're working through the stages of grief.'

You didn't wanna work through shit, if you worked through any of it then it meant he was gone. That he was truly gone and thats just something you couldn't except.

The AC turned on in Jason's room, the air kicked up the scent of him. It's so strong...'Wait? What the hell?' You turned around to see a man clad in black and red. Was that him that smelt like Jason or was it the clash of the smell of Jason and the cigarette smell that permeated off the stranger. Who is he? You blinked, rubbed your eyes and he was gone. You journal was gone and you could almost wear you heard Jason say something.

"Get some sleep, Babygirl. You know you need it."

'Am I going insane? Was that real? I should sleep, I should definitely sleep. No way in hell someone got in here without alarming any of the rest of the family.'

Your head found the pillow falling with a hard and quick thump against the soft fluffy pillow. 'Was the window always open?' You thought before sleep took you in such a deep quick grasp giving you no time to exlore the thought.

In the morning you thought nothing of it, it was clearly a dream. 'The window mustve been opened earlier in the night by me.' You kept telling yourself that over and over that was until you found mud in your room. Red mud? There was no such mud around this part of Gotham and you hadn't been out of this room.

'Was it real?'

'Why'd he smell like Jason?'

'Did he smell like Jason or was it the AC?'

'No, Jason doesnt smoke.'

'The smell was stronger, it had to be him.'

'No, I was just tired, there was no one.'

'Was there?'

'He wasn't.'

'He had to be.'

-> Masterlist <-

[batboyblog]

Hey, do you have any organizing tips for rural/suburban (rust belt) areas? I keep seeing posts about how we all need to build community for the coming 4 years, but, like, how? I join what existing groups I can (including non-political things like DnD), but there’s not many considering my citys population has declined every year for like 60 years. There’s no pride group in my county, nor is there a DSA presence. I do what I can running a political group, but I’m not the most charismatic and can’t seem to get people to show up regularly. (I’ve seen you talk about canvassing and dude- mad respect. I suck at it, even though I’ve knocked doors for years)

you'll have to forgive me, I'm a little sick today, low grade fever, so if I'm a little on the fuzzy side thats why.

first off being consistent and organized is far far FAR more important than charisma when it comes to organizing and leading any kind of group

any ways right now there's a lot of phone banking to "cure" ballots, chasing people who cased provisional ballots, there are a lot of very close House and Senate races that may well come down to these ballots, everyone can check Mobilize for info on that

from there I'd say look up your state's Democratic Party and there should be county parties for every county in the state, start going volunteer for whatever needs doing you'll be amazed by how a willingness to say yes will push you up the party, I'd also look to see if there's a local PFLAG chapter, that might be a jumping off spot for organizing a local pride

I always push people to look into Run For Something you might find a candidate running in your area you can help and support, or you can make calls and help local progressives all over the place, also check out the NDTC which is focused on training, while a lot of its stuff is for candidates it also has stuff for volunteers and people helping on campaigns, I'd sign up for Swing Left, Sister District, and MoveOn.Org

hope any of that was helpful.

[zorosleftmantit101]

Bubble bath

A/N: wrote this after taking an especially nice shower.

C/W: fluff

Characters: not fucked to right them

Luffy: doesn't. Ever. Full stop.

Zoro: baths all of his swords first. They must be squeaky clean than he tucks them into bed with a little goodnight kiss, reads them a story and then wakes up from his weird ass dream by rolling off deck right into the ocean. thats all the clean he needs.

Sanji: cracks out "ALPHA SMELL" body washes proudly asks Nami if she think he smells more alpha male the next day.

Franky: baths in straight oil can't escape getting rust in his ass tho. 😔

Law: yeah he likes baths, he likes them a-lot actually, there so warm they feel like a hug he never got. A warm wave of fresh air on a cold morning A happy feeling on a sad day a- "CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN WAKE UP YOU FEEL ASLEEP AGAIN" oh yeah thats why he doesn't take baths cause Bepo always find him asleep half submerged under the water.

Kid: also bathes is straight oil not because he needs to like franky does he just wants to for the aesthetic of it.

Killer: he is a happy man in the bathtub ill tell ya that. He sits submerged in like meter height bubbles like an idiot.

Buggy: was a model for the L'oriél Paris shampoo adds. Flicks his hair around whenever he washes it like a super star.

Shanks: he sits their till his ass is wrinkly so he can go around flashing his crew mates.

Crocodile: majestic, beautiful, gorgeous gold plated bathtub lined with candles and fragrances of only the most expensive kind. Reads the news paper with his lower body submerged a cigar lit between his tight lips and the ash tray on the bath side. Actually lemme just turn that into a fic.

Mihawk: hes bored. he dosnt look bored. but now what. the waters nice ig but he likes the couch. so tedious he thinks.

Ace: running around butt booty naked while Marco chases him with a towel "ACE YOUR TAKING A BATH" "NEVER"

Sabo: no time for bath its an eat, sleep grind for this man he is batman

[mjshortformcjesus]

ok so at the time of my writing this ive listened to high noon over camelot seven times today and heres some little things i love about it (not in any real order but its kinda chronological)

the way jonny says brian when he’s introducing the hanged man. like damnn girl we know what you think about the insubordinate piece of brass but you wanna try being a little nicer?

“the hermit” ohhhhhhh its sooooo mmmmmmm. the instruments when galahad sacrifices himself >>>>> (fun fact: i was blasting that part while my dad was telling me about his childhood which was really silly)

the pendragons. woaw. theyre so

the. the chair. its a chair.

honestly just the world building in general??? its a giant space station heading towards the sun with extreme amounts of radiation and the rust turns into sand dunes and i think thats beautiful

hellfire. what more do i say. galahad ily

british people talking cowboyly. its funny to me

honestly. all of the songs are peak. lyrics, instruments, singing, they really cooked with this one (haha. cooked. on fort galfridian *i am forcibly removed from the place where you are allowed to make jokes*)

mmmmmmm tarot titles. im a sucker for everything tarot. (the way that all the tarot titles are monologue EXCEPT JUSTICE??? owaghhhh) ngl i could make a whole second post about the symbolism of the tarot but now is not the time

“for nothing went to waste amongst the saxons” oh hell yes. big fan of this personally (also. the magnus archives reference?)

listen. i love mordred sm. but why did he name himself MORDRED.

the ending

where. where did arthur go. what happened to him.

“BUT MORDREDS HEART WAS ICE. THE SOUND OF DEATH STILL RANG IN HIS EARS AND AS THE LAST HIGH NOON SOUNDED OUTSIDE MORDRED RODE HIS ROTTEN WORLD INTO THE SUN”

gosh. the end of once and future king. banger. i am in tears

just started my eighth listen and i would just like to apologize for how long this is

[gayforjuza]

reading rusted nation for the first time bc of the rerun and it's so insane?? a steampunk military dictatorship that's basically radioactive, all the rei and blade stuff, huey getting a sprite... this has to be the wildest event right???

Its definitely up there, im behind on most of the 2024 events (planning to just read them all at the end of the year when i make my 2024 video) but from the ones ive read yeah its either rusted nation or chimes of darkness OR possibly gamblers paradise

also about the huey sprite i think it is so funny that thats the only one we have, because this has resulted in people only being able to draw huey in his rusted nation outfit with the mask on 💀 so they'll draw him in some unrelated situation and its like why this boy wearing saian drip

[cozzzynook]

got any blitzbee for blitzbee week? or any ship with bee :]

So i’m a day late but the subject for day one being forbidden had art that inspired me so much.

I loved it.

Bee sneaking Blitzwing out who was kept in the lowest parts of autobot territory after being tortured.

He was physically tortured and it shows with how much energon he’s leaking and how much of his frame is missing. There’s a small pool of energon on the floor, his insignia has been ripped off. His wings were damaged but he could still fly. They badly damaged the treads of his tank alt mode and Bee winces at how heavy the chains are around his secret conjunxs neck cables and servos and pedes are.

They have to keep someone like Blitzwing in stasis cuffs and so the chains act as a numbing agent and keep him immobile. Bee sees all this even if his team tried to keep him from seeing it because they believed he was traumatized during his capture and thats why he won’t speak.

It wasn’t that though.

He and Blitzwing had known each other for millions of stellar cycles. Their courting was long, shy and done before the war actually broke out.

Bee was far older than they thought he was. Yeah he was still a young bot but he was emerged before the great wars really kicked off about a hundred years approximately. He’s only ever known war and it was during the war he met Blitzwing.

He was a young mech that got caught in a blast running to safety. He was relatively fine but the young seeker next to him was not.

Bee doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to bring the large lanky seeker into a destroyed shelter and patching him up the best he could.

Of course he recognized the decepticon insignia after helping him but at that time Bee knew the decepticons were right in fighting for freedom. This was before things became twisted and when Megatron wasn’t a warlord.

It was a couple days later before Blitzwing onlined. The mech was in a daze and couldn’t hold his own helm up. Bee managed to find some energon that wasn’t enough to quench even his thirst but he gave it to the large mech who greedily drank it before rushing to sit up with a wince.

Of course Bee was on guard and scurried back. He wasn’t stupid, a bleeding spark yes but not stupid, he knew he couldn’t take on any bot fighting in the war let alone a con as tall as this one.

But the con didn’t seem at all willing to hurt him in fact the con looked at him like he hung the stars covered by smog and smoke.

Bee can admit he was love struck looking into those optics the first time he truly saw them.

Its why he took the lanky mechs servo in his own and never looked back as he was led to a tent on an old and tribal looking base camp where many cons and those looking for change and safety wandered.

They initially were strangers who felt their spark soar every moment they were near another. Bee knew the mech when his designation was Frostwing.

Sharing soft touches, making sure their tent was clean and warm by the time the mech came back. Making energon for them and others who were injured, helping patch wounds under medics guided servos so he could be of use and not feel like a rusted bag of spare parts.

Before autobots became too underhanded bots were still emerging sparklings and even having them. He would help take care of them and help around the tents so the carriers wouldn’t have to clean and could rest.

He remembers the early days of being with the decepticons off battlefield. They were damaged, broken and hurt. But warm, kind and caring in ways he didn’t associate with autobots.

Frostwing as well.

Especially Frostwing.

Bots wouldn’t believe him if he said the mech who became a triple changer and cannibal once brought him sweet energon every week in the roughest of war zones because he believed he was worth it. This same mech who made sure he was cuddled close to his chassis, rubbing his helm to lull him into recharge with the help of his spark was the same mech who later was injured so badly in the middle of the war they used the triple changer project to bring him back.

Changing him painfully without consent with manipulation and no care for his well being.

Bee knew better than to say something. He didn’t want to risk either of them being offlined. Its was then he knew the decepticons had changed but it was too late.

Frostwing was now a valuable weapon and Bee was far too indebted to them to leave. Not to mention he was the sparkbond and conjunx of Frostwing now named Blitzwing.

His love was given two additional face plates and a fractured processor and frame that left him aching and in pain for what felt like stellar cycles.

Bee stayed up every night with him keeping his frame from over heating and administering pain lines to ease his torment.

He was afraid his love had changed drastically and wouldn’t love him anymore. Wouldn’t be able to live in a frame with a mind so altered and so suddenly after a near death experience.

Bee knew the moment he saw his beloved changed he would stay by his side no matter what. He just feared Blitzwing would not want him.

But his fears were for nothing.

His love, his spark and beautiful conjunx still took one look at him and reached out his servo to wipe away his tears. Blitzwing looked at him like the day they first met.

His mech was still so love with him and Bee couldn’t have been happier.

He felt he jinxed their happiness because it wasn’t long before they were nearing the end of the war that a deadly raid took place.

Carriers were kidnapped, sparklings were offlined, mechs were losing their processors at the loss of their families and the extricating cut off of their bonds.

He knew Megatron still had a spark somewhere left in there because he ordered a retreat and took to the front lines and was the last to board the ship. Whoever he could take he did.

But by then it was too late.

Majority of the sparklings were gone.

The carriers were all offline from the loss of their sparklings or being killed. Sires sparks had given out due to the pain and he was held by high command kept in a tight grip assumed to be a prisoner made to do servant labor.

He remembers the feeling of his spark flickering at watching the ship leave and the battles to come. Blitzwing was his worst trying to get to him. Find any clue of him before being declared too dangerous and wild by Megatron of all bots.

They would send small search parties for him but eventually after the all spark was launched, they stopped.

And Bee was left to autobot command.

Where they eventually put him with a new designation and in bot camp.

Sure he met Bulkhead and they became friends but it wasn’t…life was not the same. Not without his conjunx.

He missed him.

Terribly, every day.

The others knew something was up but not what.

They figured he was too young to have experienced any real pain in life and he hated it. But he didn’t want to expose himself when the elite guard specifically threatened that his former identity not be known.

So he kept his dermas shut, not that his team could tell with his happy go lucky personality, he played his role and part and would then go off looking to the stars hoping for his spark to be out there, alive and well.

He got his wish in the form of two craters in the city of Detroit.

One he remembers being Lugnut who immediately recognized him and thankfully kept quiet and the other, his spark.

Who thankfully sprung into action taking him far from the fight as Lugnut easily handled the others and kept them around him to give the two of them time as Blitzwing soared to the sky shouting incoherent words between all three of his faces while Bee cried tears of joy and screams of pain, relief, agony at being apart for so long and pure happiness at feeling the thrum of his conjunx’s spark swirling in tandem before plunging into his.

His spark soared the skies in a mating dance he readily accepted and trusted without a second thought.

Chirping and cooing with a rev of his engine to a pop of his door wings revealing them in a wing dance of acceptance that made Blitzwing plunge dive. It left Bee a squealing mess of laughter and carefree excitement he hadn’t felt since the day he last raced his love back on their home planet.

They both knew their time was limited.

Bee rushed to kiss his conjunx telling him the words he so desperately needed to say, “I love you,” before his audials heard the most beautiful voice box say it back.

“And I, love you,” his spark always knew how to touch him with words alone.

So long apart yet this wasn’t a stranger before him.

The same Blitzwing he met on the battlefield all those stellar cycles ago. The same Blitzwing who became a triple changer and would try to comfort him even though Bee wasn’t the one in pain. This very same mech who would hand feed him in his lap just because he wanted to take care of him. This very same mech who wanted to shield him from the horrors the best he could during the war. This mech, his mech, whose spark sang for him as they touched helms and became one so easily, after all this time.

This was the same mech he would risk life and limb for without a moments hesitation.

Their many late night meetings on Earth, before the decepticons were captured and brought back to Cybertron, raced through his mind as he snuck into the lower deck of the ship and waited until the coast was clear.

Tears in his optics, servos shaking and spark breaking at the sight of his love who sneered.

So big and strong, even while in so much pain.

He couldn’t help but sniffle and try to silence it before stepping to into the dim flickering light that made red optics more beautiful than they should be in this moment.

“Mein hummel.”

Those optics always beheld the stars when looking at him and he could only hope to do them justice.

“We’re getting out of here,” he kissed, pressing his helm to his beloveds. Servo transforming into a blade Bee cut through the chains as quickly and quietly as he could. Watching his conjunx flick his wings and stretch his frame before scooping him up and making quick work to take the corridors Bee used to sneak inside.

They were halfway free when the alarm rang but by then, it was too late.

“I came prepared,” Bee smiled.

Blurr stood with Shockwave at his side, the one optic con holding most of Blurrs weight as the healing former agent nodded towards them and motioned for them to leave.

Shockwave carried the mech as he ran for it. Blitzwing did the same and Bee made sure to use his arm canon, his original weapon given by his love, to cave in the doorways they passed.

All too soon they were outside making their way into a ship that was rushed to the skies and dodging blaster fire.

Bee could see his former team watching the ship fly away in betrayal and hurt before looking away.

He would never pick them over his spark but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

A servo on his shoulder and he looked to see Blurr shaking his helm.

“Don’t linger, it’ll make it worse.”

Nothing else was said after that.

For once Blurr didn’t talk at the speed of light and Bee had nothing to say.

He burrowed into his spark mate who gripped him tight covering his frame and in return Bee shielded Blitzwing’s spark.

Laying his helm over the shielded thrumming orb of life, he pressed a kiss to it.

And his love helped hide him from the world just as he needed.

-

I love this ship.

If you have any asks about them go ahead my inbox is always open. Hope everyone enjoys this.

This post inspired me

[with-my-calamitous-love]

THINKIN’ ALL LOVE EVER DOES IS BREAK, AND BURN, AND END… ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

eijiro kirishima x reader

after possibly the worst heartbreak of your entire life, you finally get to begin again with a certain redhead. for his birthday <3

for @satirediary who said i remind them of kirishima 🤍

inspired by begin again

you take a deep breath in the mirror.

after adjusting your outfit for what feels like the millionth time, the anxiety sets in. you wonder if this guy, who you’ve never met before, is gonna like your outfit. the last guy sure didn’t, especially those high heels. but you do, and thats what should matter. right?

when you get to the cafe, you honestly expect him to be late. but to your surprise, he’s early, waving at you and pulling out your chair. you thank him, but he’s a gentleman at heart. “you look nice.” he says, his sharp toothy grin being just odd enough to be cute. you smile, brushing off your shirt and trying not to make the blush on your face so obvious. this is your first actual date since your previous relationship, after all.

you and monoma went down in flames. for a minute there, he ruined you for every other guy. he left you so sad and so heartbroken you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to love someone else. but after mina’s third insistence on meeting this great guy, you finally go.

“mina’s told me a lot about you.” you smile, watching as the redhead nods, urging you to go own. you list off all the great things she’s said about him, leaving out the comments on his hot body and his apparently large package.

he honestly doesn’t know why you’re coming off shy as you share stories. at one point, he just watches you talk, loving your your rambles and anecdotes. his friends told him that first dates are awkward, but you two talk like old friends. no rust on telephones or reservations on jokes. he doesn’t get how someone as pretty and as kind as you would ever be nervous telling jokes or stories. but you do.

this guy isn’t your ex boyfriend, evident by his genuine interest in you. he laughs along with you, listening to everything you say. you can tell by his red eyes on yours, actually answering your questions and asking you follow ups. seemingly, he cares about what you have to say. he doesn’t know how nice that is, but you do.

“i saw you on tv once.” you giggle, on your second cup of coffee. neither of you wanna leave each other’s presences right now. “it was years ago, when your class was at that forest training camp.”

“oh yeah? did i look good?” he says, playfully flexing his arm muscles because he loves that pink blush on your face. god, he’s built like he was sculpted. but you’re not gonna let him know that, even though you subconsciously place your hand on his bicep, feeling the firmness of his muscles.

“you know, anabolic steroids are terrible for you.” you quip as he feigns offence. its the first time you’ve genuinely laughed in months. theres probably smile lines on your face now.

he throws his head back laughing like a little kid. its honestly strange to you how funny he finds you- you never really thought you were before. you’ve spent the last 8 months questioning your self worth, wondering if all love ever does is break your heart. but now, in some cafe you can’t remember, with a guy your best friend set you up with, you get to begin again.

the date evolves into walking down the block. you do a mental backflip when he finally works up the courage to hold your hand, the chilled autumn air no match for his big, warm hands. his fingers intertwine with yours lime they’re meant to be there. funny how monoma’s hands never did that.

just at that thought, you almost bring him up. the thought of him now still makes that feeling in your chest arise. how he never liked your heels, how he never found you funny, and how he’d never walk you to your car like kirishima was doing now.

either he senses your anxiety, or is just a ray of sunshine, but he eases your worries with a squeeze to your hand and a continuing of his anecdotes from earlier. “my family watches spirited away every christmas, because its my moms favourite movie. without fail.”

its a minute detail, but you wonder if he brought that up because he remembered you mentioning studio ghibli hours ago. its enough to ease your worries.

“i love that movie.” you utter, heart still racing from the close contact. “oh, i- uh, said that already. sorry.”

but he doesn’t hold it to you for reusing that fact. “don’t apologize, i think its cute.”

and for the first time, you wanna hear what he says. you hope he tells you about the movies his family watches, about his hot-headed best friend and the hero agency he works at. you urge him on as he rambles about the weed brownies denki makes, or the time he almost got expelled from UA. they’re dumb anecdotes, but it feels more genuine than anything else you’ve ever felt.

picturing a future with kirishima, no matter how naive or wishful it may be, brings a smile to your face. for the first time, maybe ever, its something you want. he’s effortless, his affection towards you easy for him. maybe you were never hard to love after all. maybe you just had to wait for the right guy.

when you reach your car, you almost don’t want the date to end. “i had a nice time.” you smile. though its what you always say at the end of a date, this time you mean it.

“me too.” he the redhead says, still holding your hand. “next time i’ll come pick you up. it’ll be easier for both of us.”

there, you blush again, a fond smile on your lips. “next time?”

now, he’s the one flustered, realizing his slip up. he rambles out apologies for assuming, his cheeks matching the red of his hair. after all, he’s just a person to. he’s experienced heartbreak like you have. this is likely a new beginning for him, as well.

you stay silent, but you do press a kiss to his cheek before letting go and heading into your car. he pretends the little happy dance you do before starting up and driving back home.

he’ll definitely tease you for that next date.

[vanitywoo]

ronin drabble ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

notes; cw for brief mentions of gore and blood i guess. i think thats all? ronins name is never really mentioned LOL who wants to name that RAT /j i wrote this at 3am btw its kinda ass

you hate rotten things.

they have no use, and they take up space that could be used for something much more useful, dont you agree? why keep something so disgusting in the world if youre able to get rid of it before it gets rid of you? rot ruins things. it takes them over slowly, and the victim is unaware until its too late. they dont think this is a bad thing, though. they feast on all that is rotten and share it with others just like them. its in the back of their mind at all times- a voice youre unable to get rid of no matter how hard you try. smash your head into a wall, make yourself slowly into nothing, and that filth will stay in the back of your mind at all times. theres no getting rid of it.

you've never met a person thats the definition of rot. people are filthy on the inside, hiding it away, but youve never seen someone publicly flaunt the fact theyre fucked up and everything like that. youve never seen a person sink and drown themselves in the fact theyre an insane and digusting being. but youve seen them now. he bathes in the fact he is everything wrong in this world. he feasts and eats on insanity and making things his. he molds and 'fixes' things into the filth hes learned to know and love. youve had the misfortune of being something hes toyed with. you don't know if it was really worth it, but does it matter?

he wants to meet you. wants to see the person hes broken to the ground and built back up in his own pathetic and selfish way. you agree. seeing him in his disgusting alleyway, blood splattered everywhere because of him. all you smell is rust and iron and its scent is everywhere. its all you can smell, something you cant forget. he taunts you with a knife, putting the end of it under your chin so you can look at him. hes oddly gentle, but it isnt how he usually kills people. you know he won't kill you. he laughs. all you can hear is his laugh, and all you can smell is blood. you wonder if this is what the rest of your life looks like. he mocks you— pities you. and he has that filthy smirk on his face. you have a choice. you decide to kiss him. you cradle his face, cradle the filth and rot and everything hes made of. the darkness and all that he is.

you wonder if hes messed you up enough, or if theres still damage waiting to be done. hes ruined you. will he take you apart? maybe he'll rip your ribs open and crawl in, hiding away in something he might be able to call a safe space for once. will he carve out your aorta? maybe he'll keep it with him— display it publicly and love it everyday he lives. you wonder if he'll kill you later on. he thinks its the most romantic thing ever, and you know it. you can tell just by looking at him. you open your eyes and part from the kiss, staring at him. you stare into nothingness. his eyes are pitch black, and you sink into it, drowning in it. you learn why people are so rotten. you give him another kiss. he laughs. you soak it in. hes filth ridden and made of rot. hes rotten. thats all he is. murder and blood are etched into him.

you hate rotten things. but you understand them now.

[kelocitta]

What why??

Theres a few reasons! I do want to clarify that I do like Saint and their campaign in a bubble, and still like downpour as a whole, they're just the most 'off' in terms of overall.

This is going to be very messy, and I haven't fully yet made up my mind on a lot of things

For starters Saint themselves... Downpour is for-sure less grounded in naturalistic biology than RW vanilla- and thats fine. The base game slugcats are all relatively mundane for a reason, but that also means their overall variety is limited- so downpour mixes that up with a bit of a fantastical slant and then tries its best to re-ground it various ways (Spearmaster is genetically modified, Gourmand is just very smart and very big, Artificer is implied to have been mutated by a toxic environment, rivulet is just fast and evolved for increased flooding). The issue with Saint here is that they are, by far, the most ungrounded in any sort of reality and a bit more 'magical'- but that aspect isn't really explained past maybe a short nod in the general direction of something. This isn't exactly a flaw in itself, but it does mean we have something immensely powerful in a way that's very... contradicting to the general vibe of the world. Especially as a little animal. Something like that can work, but its hard to make work, especially in a world set up like RW is. And then the campaign itself... for starters, I think its one that naturally going to be very polarizing depending on the way you read various things about RW- the characters in it, the things it touches on, and your own personal outlook on life. I'm a nerd for evolution and 'life finds a way' type stuff, and for me Saint goes a little too far in direction I don't really vibe with. Its really hard to explain here, but I'll try. For probably the most minor thing, the environment. There's a sort of undercurrent that the frozen over tundra of world as is a 'dying' environment. The undergrowth echo does add a counter to this mindset (By pointing out there is still life and beautiful blooming in a increasingly barren world) so its not the biggest thing, but its a outlook a lot of people tend to hold to begin with, so the ways it reinforces this is a little... sour? I suppose. Deserts and tundras and areas of low life are not dead or dying environments- they are their own ecosystems. They exist and are needed. Many things can not survive them. Many things can. Worlds and ecosystems are naturally always shifting and changing, and ecosystems like deserts and arctics stand equal to rainforests and coral reefs. We see some creatures have failed to adapt and died off, but so many others have begun to carve out their niches and are changing with the world- I think a tundra is a great metaphorical 'the world is shifting away from its old self' type thing. Everything being broken down and changed once more and a lot of things aren't surviving, some are, but changed. Metaphorically that is great. But Saint is there as a big, literal kill switch on the world (Small aside that yes, kill is an inaccurate descriptor. Ascension is by nature 'something else' than dying.) Its just a little... wrong, that the implied shift in what the world is- the last stains of the Ancient's being washed away into something new and independent, is being done with the literal removal of those remains rather than the natural clockwork of the world. Even without Saint there things would die and shift, iterators would crumple into nothing, buildings would break and become dust and rust- and from all that things would still claw their way to the next day. Their offspring and offspring's offspring would grow ever more different from them, until they hardly match. Something new would be borne from the dusts of an old one forgotten. Tundras would freeze over into something else, a change in the atmosphere would trigger a shift, and ice would melt into water once more. Thats another great big thing everything is a small part of. (For some reason if this space isn't here this whole post breaks?)

Its sad, but theres a beauty in the way things lead into each other- erased in anyway meaningful way but their ghosts still etched imprinted into the shell of the new. Both insignificant and yet strangely important. I don't think Saint is implied to 'succeed' at all, of course. I think its very much hinted at that they'll be at whatever mission they have forever. But is also feels implied that this mission is supposed to be the intended end of the Ancients' 'era', pieces bit by bit ascended, finally removed from this cycle they can't perceive themselves as even a part of- and that even with this there will still be something new that takes their place. Their whole goal is ascension, so it makes sense ultimately. But it just feels... something is off about it, and maybe thats entirely on me. There's something I just don't like about it. A long time ago I was asked about Saint and the void worms (you can read that here, although note this was pretty early into DP's release) and I do think at least part of that is the idea that Saint pulls control from things. The worms, buried deep in the void sea, the last step to ascension... Crossing yourself out feels like a weighty choice, but one you have to seek. So a sort of mobile ascension that does it for you, these lizards and bugs that couldn't possibly comprehend what ascension is, creatures that mostly just know survival and all its ills... it feels like it skips all that weight behind that choice. The underground Ancient, stuck midway, says it was never something they really wanted anyway, seemly contended to be in the in-between. An outlier for sure, but an outlier none the less- one that makes it clear that things can comprehend the weight of ascension and what it offers and understand the world and its ills and still want to be a part of it. What does that mean of Saint, a system that brings that to you, without say? Sure most of the creatures they ascend are simple things, the others are iterators- Beings designed to seek that solution and even want it for themselves but to barred from being able to achieve it. These are all things that it should feel good to grant the blessings of ascension too, that final peace that is neither living nor dying, but I just think about that echo and the way it makes it clear that many, if given the choice, would not want to be crossed out. I like it in a bubble, removed from those things, but I don't know how I feel about it in the greater scheme of things, as a sort of end to rain world. If there is one thing I do like a lot though, its the finale- with the worm. It gives Saint's place in the world a distinct sense of wrongness, something capped at the void worms. The void worms are just... still at the center. Something ancient and unbreakable. A rule of existence Saint doesn't- can't, bypass.

[graceful-not]

SORRY IM INSANE??????? WHAJT THE FUCK??? I CANT EVEN FOCUS ON WHATEVE NYA AND JAY ARE DOING RIGHT NOW THERE'S ANOTHER FUCKING ZANE???? MY BOY???? EXHO???? DI WE EVER SEE HIM AGAIN??? ISTG IF THEY JUST LEAVE HIM IN THIS LIGHTHOUSE AFTER THIS WHY ARE THEY NOT FREAKING OUT?!?????? HE WAS STUCK HERE THIS WHOLE TIME?? WHY DID DR JULIEN NOT SAY ANYTHING IM INSANE?!?!?? HES SO RUSTED IM. I. ok I actually really like the steampunk vibes VS zanes more modern ones but HUH???? JULIEN JUST LEFT HIM HERE?!?!??? ok good they're fixinyg him up but ????? WHYAT???? I LITERALLY. HUH. HUH SO DOES ZANE HAVE ABROTHER THEN??? IVR NEVRR HEARD OF TJIS GUY WHICH MEANS HE ISNT RLLY IMPORTANT BUT I. THERE ARE SO MABY GODDAMN IMPLICATIONS THIS SHOULD BE SO IMPORTANT I. WHY ARE THEY BRUSHING THIS OFF??? I UUST GOOGLED IT AJD HE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE AN ARC BUT IT WAS TOO COMPLIXATED SO THEY CUT IT??? WHY ADD HIM??? THE ROLE COULD BE FULFILLED BY TAI-D WHY WOULD YOU GIVE ME TJIS AND THEM RIP IT AWAY FRO ME. IM SO WORKED UP IM DOING THE FLAPPY HAND STIM AND I /NEVER/ DO THE FLAPPY HAND STIM. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK. IM INSANE ABOUT ECJO?? AND THEN THEY JUST LEAVE HIM??? I DJONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT NADAKHAN WHRE IS MY BOY? MY SON?? WAS HE JUST IN THE SECRET BASEMENT WHILE JULIEN GREETED THE OG ZANE?!?????? I CAN'T DO THID WHAT THE FUCK. THIS IS SO TRAGIC. WHERE IS HE GIVE HIM BACK TO.ME. WHY WERE THEY ACTING LIKE HES JUST SOME CONVENIENT WEAPON OR TOOL HES A WHOLE ASS PERSON?? LIKE THEYRE SO NONCHALANT ABOUT IT ALL "aww awesome we have another Zane at our disposal!" HES A WHOLR PERSON. HE HAS FEEKINGS??? LIKE HE FEELS THINGS HES NOT JUST A COOL WEAPON??? IF THAT WAS A HUMAN CHILD THEYD HAVE BROUGHT HIM WITH THEM???? I CANT DO THIS WHAT THE FUCK

ECHO ECHO ECHO MY SON IS BACK MY BOY MY SON MY DARLING MY SWEETHEAR COME HERE I NEED TO PICK YOU UP AND KISSYS YOU. he seems. okay with being in there??? has he ever left the lighthouse??????? does he KNOW what's out there??? HE CANT HAVE UNTIL JULIEN LEFT BC OF THE KRAKEN THING SO??? HAS HE EXPLORED SINCE THEN IS THAT WHY HE SEEMS SO CONTENT THERE??? HE DOESNT MIND BEING LEFT THERE?!???? I DONT UNDERTSTAND. HES JUST CHILL. LIKE *salutes* yessir! NO ECHO!! ASJ QUESTIONS!! I LOVE YOU BUT RHAT WHOLE SEQUENCE WAS FOR NO REASON HE ADDS NOTHING TO THE REPLACEMENT NINJA TEAMM. WHY DID THEY GIVE ME THIS WHOLE ASS CHARACTER WITH 300000 IMPLICATIONS AND THEN JUST NOT MAKE HIM RELEVANT AT ALL!! HE DIDNT EVER NEED TO BE THERE I HONESTLY WISH HE DIDNT EXIST BC NOW IM GONNA BE THINKING ABT HIM FOREVER!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! ZANE WHY ARE YOU CHILL ABOUT HIS EXISTENCE "I see you brought some friends" YOU SHOULD BE FREAKING YOUR SHIT RIGHT NOW!!!! WHAT THE FUCK???? YOUR DAD BUILT THAT DUDE THATS SO FUCKED UP. TJATS UR BROTHER. THATSUR FUCKING BROHTER. AND THEN THEY JUST RESET TIME???? SO HES STILL IN THAT GODDAMN LIGHTHOUSE IM INSANE??? HES STILL IN THERE IS HE FUCKING ALIVE??!???? WHAT??? IS HE OKAY??? IM INSANE IM LITERALLY INSANE. AND UR TELLING ME TJEY NEVER MENTION OR DO ANYTHING WITH HIM AGAIN?!??? IM INSANE ABOUT THIS. IM INSANE. I CANT DO THIS WHAT THEFUCKN????? AUUAUAUAU. WHAT? HUH. WHATA???I need to find contebt of him right nowwhy is it all just shipping with Morro. good for them I guess but I don't CARE about the gay ghost what the FUCK is echos DEAL!!! WHAT IS UP WITH HIM???? ITS LITERALY ALL CITRUSSHIPPING ART WHERE IS ANY SPECULATIVE LORE??? WHAT ABOUT HIM AND ZANE WHATS THEYRE DEAL WHAT IF THEY METM WOULD TJEY BE BROTHERS?? IM HAVING SO MANY THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW. Zane deserves a little bro dude... another one I mean. falcon and Tai-D can be bestfriends. I'm insane I'm fucking insane. I love Morro and all but goddamn that's really all there is here shdbsjdb. it's cute and all but very "what if errytjung was ok and they were alive and we didn't have to worry about canon" but WHAT ABOUT THE OTHERS??? DO JAY ABD NYA JUST NEVER TELL ANYONE?!?!?? THATS A WHOLE ASS SAPIENT BEING??? HES LITERALY CONSCIOUS??? WHAT THE FUCK. YOU LEFT A WHOLE ASS PERSON BEHIND THATS SO FUCKED UP. IM INSANE.