#v4 - Modern

[temporary-tats]

Here's a ko-fi roulette request from @notoftheskaal of the Bees on Bumblebee!

This one was super fun to do! Thank you for your the support <3

As usual, please do not reupload without credit/permission. Thank you folks!

(My Ko-fi, should you wish!)

[monogatcri]

━━ ˟ ⊰🍁DESOLATE . DILAPITATED. RUINED. GONE. FORGOTTEN. what words one can use to describe somewhere so filled with life, a beacon of prosperity ; a surface of joy ; a community of others so willing to take it upon themselves to extend a hand for one another. it's quiet here, sullenly so, and, by some account of miracle there were no people here to interview him ; it's by this extension of delight that he can wander about the streets he used to know like the back of his hand alone. tap tap tapping of geta as they maneuvered one after the other, down beyond the doctor's home, elderly woman always woven with bags beneath her eyes. by sheer force of will does he not turn his head, determined to keep moving. tap tap tap. a broken bicycle on the side of the path, its wheels rotting away while the chain that once moved it now held hands with rust. tap tap tap. a wooden sign folded over on the street, loose cord nailed to back weakly splayed out, whose words were easy to picture in his mind's eye, vivid and written to help others know:

        THE NIWA RESIDENCE !

        progress halted suddenly, apt for the constant push and pull of his mind's health. home. this was his home. was. a suffocating term that wrapped its hands tightly 'round his throat and threatened to squeeze the life from him ; it wanted him to acknowledge its painful revelations -- that he didn't really belong back home. niwa would never really belong anywhere, would he? that's the crux of every issue he's faced: too stuck in one place, too incapable of pulling one foot from the ground and placing it forward, too afraid of losing what he once held dear...what he did hold dear.

        the burning in his lungs reminded him to breathe. ripping those hands from his throat felt easier said than done, tragedy would always find him, it seemed, but with enough force does he yank those tiresome appendages from around his neck, thrusting them aside. home. this...home...is nothing more than a burial mound. to those that peer upon it, they will see what once held life and, the unfortunate fact of the matter, is that niwa should begin to see this, also. this place no longer held his family's bodies, this place no longer held the laughter it once had, this place was sickeningly vacant.

        bending down, he picks up the wooden sign and stared at it, finger pads tracing over the characters, watching the dirt and dust trapped atop it peel away on to interloping skin. home... this was no longer his home.

        inhaling, however, he places the sign back upon the wall, a smile pulling his lips upward, tired gaze watching as it swayed in gentle morning breeze, dew droplets leaking down the sides to assist in the cleaning -- a passionate reminder that his presence here wasn't needed for life to eventually go on.

        his head tilted back, glistening gaze staring toward the doorway, the collapsed interior only invisible in his mind, but...this was a start. he could not enter yet, but...this had been enough for the last surviving niwa today ; he would try again to enter his old home...

        ...tomorrow...

[decoysouled]

unprompted asks // always accepting. anonymous // Arakan, what were your thoughts when your mother died? Where were you, how did you feel? What was your grieving process like? (dsc. modern)

THE DAY THEIR MOTHER HAD DIED, it was as if the sun had gone out — Makoto, to Arakan, had always been so full of life & even though her care had never been extended to her children, it was hard to see her as anything other than bright & alive & loved by those around her. Even they had cared deeply for her, despite how little of their childhood she had been around for, & that enough had left them with a deep agony in their chest.

( their brother had always been more of a parent than her. )

The day their mother had died, it was like closing a book for the last time; one that they would never read the ending to. It was like watching the pages fall into puddles, slowly becoming unreadable, the ink blurring alongside their tears — it was that day which set in motion their current life, one of isolation & the desperate need to convince themself that they do not need people in their life. That they do not need to be cared for & wanted & loved.

( no matter how they craved those things, they were never Arakan's to start with. )

The day their mother had died, it was like being set adrift on a raft in the seas, forced to weather the most violent of storms alone. By the time they had realised just how much they were drowning in their grief, in things they could never have, desires that would never come true, Arakan was already alone — Ren no longer spoke to them, albeit they did not reach out either, & Kaminari had left them behind & gotten into trouble & they hated it, how long it took them to realise that no one could be trusted to stay.

( it was funny, really, how of a family of four, three people had left. Kaminari, their mother, their father... had all abandoned them & they did not know why. did not understand the reasons. only that they were alone & alone they would stay. )

The day their brother had left, it was like waking up from a long dream, one they had not been aware they were trapped within. It was a slow awakening, the type that left one with exhaustion set deep within their bones & a sadness aching within their heart & everything had been hit with hurt all at once. A wall they could not climb over, a pain they could drown in. It had been the deepest grief they had ever felt, the realisation that no one wished to stay.

Even this tied back to the day their mother died, like some cosmic joke. Like some cruel trick.

❝I wished I had known her better.❞ Arakan speaks, voice quiet, in lieu of voicing any of their previous thoughts — there was no need, in the end, to speak of the ways their heart had been shattered like a glass dropped on hardwood floors. There was no need, in the end, to allow themself the vulnerability to answer such a question when there was no true care given. It is simply another struggle, another thing to think about that they wish they didn't have to.

Simply another pouring of salt in old wounds that had never quite healed right.

❝I let myself drift away from the world for a long time, but I don't remember much of it. I went through the motions, I lived my life on autopilot until the day Kaminari decided to leave, too.❞ As if they had never mattered at all. As if they had never been loved at all. As if they had never been wanted at all. They had never held him at fault for that, neither his reaction to the death of their mother nor the way he had abandoned Arakan in his own grief.

They had been used to it by then.

❝When I found out, my only thought was... I wondered whether she had loved us, when she died. Whether she had thought about me or Kaminari in her last moments, or if we never mattered to her at all.❞ It had been a selfish set of thoughts, one they had never dared to verbalise. ❝Mostly... I wish people would let me leave her in the past. I've done my mourning & I'm tired of it.❞

They wish everyone would let her memory rest, if only so Arakan could finally begin to let go & forget about everything she had ever done. It wouldn't happen, not with the way that funeral director acted or the way Kaminari asked them to visit her grave with him & Arakan had never found it in themself to say no. After all, he had been there for them for the longest time & it was only right to return such a favour.

( i just want to forget her. i want to forget everything that hurts me. )

[ofdemonessence]

.: Delia's Verses :.

side note- all verses can be changed, altered and details specified with plotting *****

V0; Main Verse: Seductive Whispers: Delia's Journey as a Dream-Weaver

By day, Delia dons the role of a dream-interpreting therapist. Drawing upon her intimate knowledge of the ethereal realm, she guides her clients through the enigmatic landscapes of their subconscious minds. With a keen intuition and a deep understanding of the human psyche, Delia helps unravel the symbolism and hidden messages within her patients' dreams, offering insights and guidance for their waking lives.In her downtime, Delia indulges her passion for writing. She pours her vivid imagination onto the pages of fantasy novels, weaving intricate tales of magic, adventure, and romance. Through her writing, she brings forth worlds of wonder and escapism, providing solace and inspiration to readers who yearn for enchantment.Despite her demonic nature, Delia harbors a profound empathy for humanity. She has chosen to use her powers not to exploit or manipulate, but to offer solace and understanding to those who seek her guidance. Through her therapy sessions and her stories, she strives to illuminate the depths of the human experience and explore the complexities of the human heart.

V1; Ethereal Veil: Delia's Dance between Vanity and Shadows: Delia, the Daughter of Vanity and Gnarled Horns, emerges from a realm where beauty and darkness intertwine. Born to ethereal beings representing contrasting forces, Delia inherits a unique blend of allure and mystique. With her striking appearance and an air of enigma, she possesses an innate charm that captivates those around her. However, beneath her enchanting facade lies a complex nature, torn between the desire for superficial glamour and the yearning for authenticity. Delia's journey becomes a quest to strike a delicate balance between vanity and embracing her true self, ultimately discovering that true beauty lies within.

V2; Modern Day Chemistry Teacher: In the realm of academia, Delia takes on the role of a modern-day chemistry teacher. Armed with a brilliant mind and a passion for scientific discovery, she guides her students through the wonders of the molecular world. Delia's classroom becomes a place of fascination and inspiration, where she fosters a love for knowledge and encourages her students to question the boundaries of scientific understanding. Beyond the confines of the lecture halls, Delia's own life intertwines with the chemistry she teaches, navigating the complexities of relationships, unraveling the mysteries of her own heart, and finding that sometimes the most profound reactions are the ones that occur outside the laboratory.

V3; DC Verse, Those Years in Themyscira: Delia's journey takes a turn into the realm of DC Comics as she becomes entwined in the mythos of Themyscira, the hidden island of the Amazons. Raised among the fierce warriors, Delia grows into a formidable force herself, honing her combat skills, and embracing the ideals of justice and truth. As she trains alongside Amazonian legends, she grapples with her own identity and purpose in a world where gods and mortals collide. Delia's story intertwines with the likes of Wonder Woman and other iconic DC characters, as she discovers her place in the rich tapestry of Themyscira and the greater DC Universe.

V4; Lady of Poisons & Venom: In an ancient realm shrouded in shadows and secrecy, Delia ascends to the throne as the Queen of Poisons and Venom. With an intricate knowledge of lethal concoctions and deadly toxins, she works in a clandestine realm where intrigue and treachery abound. Delia becomes a master of manipulation, her words laced with subtle venom and her actions calculated to achieve her ambitions. Yet, beneath her seemingly sinister exterior, she harbors a complex heart, torn between her regal responsibilities and the desire for a different path. Delia's story becomes a dance of power, as she navigates the treacherous realm of political machinations and grapples with the consequences of her choices.

[darkhearthorns]

Verse Pages to be added soon:

v1; main || dragon fae prince

v2; modern || biopharmaceuticals

v3; celestials || dark angel

v4; medieval || ruthless tyrant

[parasitoidism]

someone tell bandai namco i don't want classic tamagotchi remakes i want my connection series remakes and i want tama town back! fuckers!!!!!!

[p65net]

MyBB Modern V4 Teması (Ücretsiz indir) (Test Edildi) 2024

MyBB Modern V4 Teması, forumunuza şık bir görünüm kazandırmak isteyenler için mükemmel bir seçenektir. Modern ve güzel tasarımı, SEO uyumluluğu ve responsive (mobil uyumlu) yapısı sayesinde en güzel mybb temaları içerisinde yer alıyor.Hem kullanıcılarınızın hem de arama motorlarının gözdesi olacak. Ayrıca, temanın bir diğer dikkat çekici özelliği, anlık olarak döviz kurlarını gösterebilmesi. Bu…

[fatesown]

LADY SCHALA -> TALES OF SYMPHONIA

House Zeal is a small but influential noble family of loyal elves in pre-Kharlan War Tethe'alla. They are especially well-regarded for their participation in magical research and education.

When Schala's mother inherits the family title, commoners under her charge begin to languish as she takes funds once meant to aid them and instead redoubles the research efforts.

Specifically, she becomes obsessed with studying immortality and how to achieve it. Her fascination leads her to try to harness Origin's powers without forming a proper pact with him. Origin, naturally, finds this laughable, and as punishment for her hubris, destroys House Zeal, casting Lady Zeal, Schala, and Janus into time.

The members of the House are considered missing in the wake of the accident, as nobody remaining knows the full truth of what Lady Zeal was up to in her search for immortality. Of course, they are never found, and House Zeal's holdings are divvied up between other nobility.

Schala is instrumental in the research, as her magical aptitude from birth has been very strong and Lady Zeal hoped to amplify that to overcome Origin. (It doesn't work. It was NEVER going to work.)

Schala spends almost all of her free time looking after her brother, wanting to give him the loving upbringing she had before her mother inherited.

The rest of Schala's free time is spent with the commoners her mother has abandoned, offering them aid when she can and compassion when she cannot.

[tartagla-archived]

*slams the visor of his helmet shut and hides her face* / modern v lumi bye

ㅤㅤhe's laughing out loud as his visor is slammed shut , of course it's muffled but he doesn't care - he didn't expect her to have that kind of reaction to his flirting . she should really know by now that he's the absolute worst when he gets to tease her .

ㅤㅤ❛❛ oh come on , sweetheart . did i really deserve that ? ❜❜

ㅤㅤhe sits up , reaching out to place his arms around her waist and tug her forward , tilting his head back to smile at her .

[vietproit]

Redress10 V4 Beta 1 – Modern Windows 10 Mod build 19045.2006

Redress10 V4 Beta 1 – Modern Windows 10 Mod build 19045.2006 Tải xuống Redress10 V4 Beta 1 – Modern Windows 10 Mod build 19045.2006 là bản dựng Windows 10 build 19045.2006 được Mod giao diện Modern, bản dựng được tuỳ biến loại bỏ các ứng dụng UWP mặc định và các dịch vụ không cần thiết. Redress10 Is a mod that makes windows 10 fluent and modern I put tons of effort on it, so please check out :…

[analog-mothman]

Jamila Hair Set; or, Yes, I Do Need 26 Bandana Textures

binned and familied; 1024x1024 textures for hair and 512x256 textures for bandanas with RGB normal maps; six natural colors, two grey swatches for elders binned to red; smooth bones; compressed and tooltipped; bandana hairs come in two white swatches + two colors from @vintagesimstress' Iron Age Palette + two floral patterns from Freepik per swatch per mesh

Download: SFS | MF

The original hair reminded me of a hair from the cottage core pack for TS4 and one thing led to another and now I'm going to have to reuse that bandana to justify the effort I put into this. More info + full swatch below the cut!

All of the hairs are repo'd to V1, so that's required for for them all. Normal maps are with the mesh file. The bandana textures are in a separate package to make it easier to edit the swatches if you so desire.

All the swatches include a white and less white bandana because I felt like that's the most generally useful for historical gameplay. The floral prints are obviously the most "modern" but this hair feels pretty flexible for all eras so why not?

Jamila V3 Swatch

Jamila V4 Swatch

Elders take the same swatches as the red hairs.

The bandana textures were baked in blender, so there might be an occasional seam in the patterns because I was too lazy to edit them seamless before slapping the pattern in the material.

Credits to Paradox for Crusader Kings 3, EAxis for the bandana mesh, Vintage Simstress for her Iron Age Palette, and Freepik for the patterns

[monogatcri]

━━ ˟ ⊰🍁THE CREAKING OF THE SWING paired excellently with the void wind's curtain, the sounds of distant play a forgotten melody in this park's state. The rusted merry-go-round, the swings that had only two remaining in function, the unmoving spring riders that had turned from a jovial sight into a haunting display, the teeter totter condemned nearby.

        It's empty here.

       None come to visit or to play because they enjoy this place, they come here to be alone or to write obscenities upon the rotted wood of the picnic tables. Its beauty had outlived its usefulness, left to die and run an obsolete course as the introduction of other, more entertaining, concepts shifted into view. No one cared about this place because they didn't have to care about it ; what memories were held here don't amount to anything because this wasn't their home, this wasn't their happiest place on earth, this wasn't their entire world...

        Swing's motion stops, head tilted down to stare at phone, dreading each message that passes the screen. What once was a man who would happily run amok with the others now wanted no one near him ; he desired nothing, hated the idea of being touched, wanted to disappear into the obscurity of this diseased park and crumble into nothingness.

        You're not alone, Niwa.

        Foot kicked harshly at the dirt, sending an abundance of dirt flung into the air. A thousand people could scream his name right now and he'd feel alone, he's coming to realize. Why is that? Why is that? Because a thousand people amount to only a skin deep view of who he was as a person. Chains had started to leave imprint on his hands as pale skin turned paper white against his grip. 507 names were what mattered and now they were forever silenced, four names were especially important and now they could never say his name again, and now...it's just Niwa.

        It's just Niwa Hisahide.

        The more he awakens into this modern world, the more he's coming to realize how utterly alone he's feeling. This world isn't his world. This world isn't his world. This world ISN'T HIS WORLD! He doesn't understand it, he can't... Every time he enters a conversation, he feels himself slip down, as though he climbs a mountain made entirely of soap while he's drenched in water.

        Eyes watch his phone light up, dull expression worn like a glove today. Just push through it... A few more hours, just a few, push through it...and then... Head hits against chain, pressing palm further into rigid surface, though by now it's numbed to the pinch. And then what? What would happen?

        Another harsh kick to the dirt, geta striking rock that stopped foot in place, a deep sigh purged from him as he stood from the swing to bend down to pick it up, staring... ❝ I can never return home. ❞ Tatarasuna is gone. His older brother and his sister-in-law were gone. This new world feels hollow. For the first time, he's feeling completely alone and he doubts anyone can comprehend it, understand it, know how that actually feels.

        The only world he knew taken from him so suddenly, the broken hearts that he could have mourned with already moving on with their lives in someplace he cannot find, his chance to find his family gone because he wasn't awake, all because of a stupid heart that wasn't worth all the effort they put into it. The heart that survived when everyone else perished -- the heart that should have given out yet refused to. When he awakened, the media swarmed him the second his wheelchair had exited that hospital, his mind and body reeling in anguish as they bombarded him with questions, flashes blinding this eyes, throwing around facts he barely had time to comprehend inside the walls of privacy -- to say he broke down into tears would be an understatement ; the media shamed him, called him weak, elaborated on this further to say he wasn't fit to take over Tatarasuna in place of his father and that he'd sell the land...yet the parcels that continued to fill his mailbox and consistently shove forth their demands went unanswered, man unable to acknowledge that they were probably right, afraid to prove them right -- that he's too weak...that the land that was granted to him by his family should be sold off...

        The home he lives in was a mockery of what he once loved. The electricity, the modern devices, the way he feels fear every time he awakens. With a pained scream, he throws the rock, hard, the resounding and thunderous CLANG as it strikes the fox shaped spring rider as hollow yet verbose as he feels. ❝ Why couldn't it have just been me?! Why did it have to be everyone else?! WHY?! ❞ 509 lives should still be here -- 509 lives...when it could -- no, should have been one.

        It's a menagerie inside himself, emotions bubbling like tar to encase whatever falls inside it, preserving it for others to witness in full view. Meaningless and meaningful, rational and irrational. If only this wasn't so complicated, linked to so many problems coursing around him at once, then he could untangle it himself, yet deep down, he knows Diluc is right, which hurts worse than he'd like to admit: he needs a professional to deal with this mess ; one person, not even every person he knew, could reach him at this far down of a hole dug.

        Legs collapse beneath him, buckling knees striking dirt first with hands to follow, head lowered to stare blankly at nothing but dirt, what he'd become king of. From there, he does not move.

[decoysouled]

JOURNAL ENTRY // AETHER.

Date: 12th August Mood: 2/10. Daily Goal: Get tea with friends. Find the energy to make something to eat. Tea isn't happening anymore.

I need to learn to hide my feelings better. If someone as oblivious as Zhongli can pick up on the fact I've been sad, I must be showing it. I wonder if he asked because he cares or because it was annoying. I think it was the latter. I don't see why anyone would care about my feelings. I don't think he and Venti are getting along right now, considering he said he wouldn't get tea with us. I didn't even ask Venti after that. I didn't see a point.

I just wanted to spend time with my friends & forget about Lumine & my parents & everything else for just one hour. It was stupid of me to ask at all.

Before he started asking me things, Zhongli was talking about biodegradable urns being a scam... I wonder when I die, what would someone do with my body? I think I'd want my ashes to be scattered by the sea. I don't think anyone would care to do that or give me a funeral, really. Those are for people who are loved. Would anyone even show up if I had one? Would anyone even visit my grave? Although, it was a bit of an odd topic for a casual conversation... I wonder why he chose it, of all things.

Maybe it's a sign.

I think that I should make something to eat and then go to bed... People always tell me writing my feelings down helps, but I don't think it does. I feel worse than I did earlier. I feel hollow, like I'm not a person. I'm not enough of a person for anyone to want around, at least. Maybe I'll make some toast. This is just a hard time, it'll pass eventually. One day I'll stop dwelling on the things that hurt me.

Tomorrow will be better. Aether of the future will be happier, I just know it!

[nynaevedesign]

Kaya Dining Room This contemporary dining room resembles a modern hangout zone, perfect for grabbing a bite with friends or simply chilling with a good book. A sleek wooden table dominates the scene, accompanied by comfortable chairs upholstered in neutral tones. Overhead, a trio of pendant lights bathe the space in a warm glow. A woven rug with a subtle geometric pattern ties the space together, while a brushed metal bowl overflowing with lemons and oranges adds a burst of citrusy sunshine and conversation-starting pops of color. Furniture Dining Table 1x1 | Dining Table 2x2 | Dining Table 2x1 | Dining Table 3x1 | Dining Chair | Pendant Light V1 | Pendant Light V2 | Pendant Light V3 | Pendant Light V4 Decor Plates| Table Napkin | Bowl | Lemon | Orange | Wall Art | Rug Game-ready low poly, optimized for low-end computers. Base game compatible. Download: ModCollective.gg

[mepostdcfanartshere]

Hi!Since “Plastic Man NO More！”is out,I decide to share some of my thoughts on the latest comics and other Plastic Man related topics.

The relationship between Plastic Man and his children is one of the aspects that initially attracted me to this character, and it is also an important part of his character development in modern DC comics. In "Plastic Man No More!" when Plastic Man was left with lasting damage in an action, he discovered that his body was disintegrating, and his death was imminent. He realized that the same thing will happen to his son, Luke, who is superhero Offspring.He needed to find a way to reverse this before it was too late.

Regarding the portrayal of his relationship with his children in various versions, it can generally be categorized into three types, although these descriptions are not mutually exclusive and may vary depending on the writer's understanding of Plastic Man's character (which can sometimes be disruptive to the continuity of the character's development).

1. A caring parent who loves his children, whether they are biological or adopted in any way, and loves them in his own peculiar way.

   [👍👍👍 (V2/The Kingdom: Offspring/V4/V5, in Jack Cole's version, he did not have children, but he really enjoyed being with kids!)]

2. A parent who is often absent due to the responsibilities of being a superhero or for other reasons (sometimes not by voluntary choice).

   [A bit sad, but there is potential for development in a positive direction (“The Terrifics” and "Injustice," these two comics actually portray Plastic Man and Luke's relationship very well.)]

3. A former partner/deadbeat dad who avoids family responsibilities

   [(JLA *65/Count Down to Mystery) Although such a scenario usually implies that their relationship has room for improvement, just seeing this portrayal makes me feel like I'm going to be in pain for the rest of my life.]

The new comic's portrayal of Plastic Man and Luke's relationship clearly emphasizes the second and third types—this is something that concerns me.（even though what Plas is actually doing is,trying to save his son. ）Although this comic is a black label comic set independently of the main DC storyline, it will still affect how people and subsequent writers view this character. In fact, this comic, despite only having released the first issue so far, has already did his origin wrong in many ways,this is something I will discuss in more detail later.

*PS：English is not my mother tongue so my wording may not really match the meanings*

[sparklecarehospital]

I'm not sure if you still accept these but I found out about the comic through a tumblr blog that posts daily mice/rat characters which i repost onto my main friend group's discord server because I get bored where one day the blog posted Doom and my repost caught the attention of one of my friends who recommended I read the comic and I've been hooked since. I got in after v3 finished up but before 4 started

so you were here for v4's launch!!! that's so cool, i know a lot of modern readers saw v4 as their first volume debut because a lot of people started reading during/after v3. i'm glad you enjoyed reading!!!