#OKAY THE STORY IS BACK NOW

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from chapter 84 of Underline the Black:

When they got closer to the road, Gary’s phone started buzzing relentlessly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, alarmed, and saw he had several missed calls from Faber, and a stack of text messages. The most recent one that came up on his phone simply said: ~Now’s not the time to have your phone on silent, Gary! That was from Temsen. Gary grasped Efnisien by the arm. ‘Something’s happened.’ ‘What?’ Gary wanted to open his phone and read everything, but after what they’d just been talking about, he had a horrible image of someone injured. They’d lost an omega in a cave which had nearly ended terribly, they’d had injuries on site before. They ran across the road and got through the gate, and as Gary jogged towards the head office – having to slow down so Efnisien could keep up – he almost stumbled over nothing at all when he saw the red car pulled up in front of his cottage. His blood chilled, his pheromones spiked so fast he could smell them himself. Efnisien twisted violently away, gagging and retching immediately.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: gojo x f!reader, bridgerton au. (unedited) word count: 1.29k

it seems as though lady whistledown had taken a liking to you. born out of a prestigious lineage, your name was untainted, holding no negative connotation other than the envy your perfectness shone over anything.

like a porcelain doll, as the queen has once referred to you as on your first visit.

your mother and grandmother before you married as 'pure' with little to no scandals involved, yet it was your mother in her time who caused the biggest uproar in suitors to pursue her. even today, you had grown up with maids, nannies, and people well acquainted with your mother, and your mother at times who would share details over her diamond years. 3, to be exact.

now you felt an obligation to live up to the family name, to honor the work your mother has preserved before you so that you could comfortably live a life with no shame, and you swore that you would do the same for your own children.

if, you decided to bear them.

tonight, you stand in a glorious dress, embedded with the stones your mother and trusted modist claimed to make you look radiant. yet that seemed to be the opposite for you. 4 dances have occurred in your presence and only one man approached to talk to you. the worst thing was that he was unsuitable, and your mother had to intervene, breaking apart the association and taking you to another.

"he was boring," you whisper shouted at your mother who eyed you, aware to not make a scene as you stopped by a secluded balcony. "it seemed everything I told him, he would restate it or make it obvious. it was like talking to myself! if I wanted to, I would have sought company from my mirror."

"how frustrating." you nod in agreement with your mother.

"have all good men gone to waste mama?" you ask, stress and tears welling in your eyes. "If this is the first man I encounter, I cannot bear to think what the rest of them might be like. Or is it I am just ugly?"

"hush, child." your mother holds your shoulders, then cups your cheeks. "you're not acting like yourself tonight. don't let one bad apple ruin your basket. you are young, gifted, and come from a name. you are something because you came from me. have I not taught you well?" she caresses your arm in comfort. "come, wipe those tears that are threatening to fall. you will cause a scandal on your own if you are seen crying tonight. let's find you an honorary man."

that night you only danced with two men. they remained respectful, yet not enough to provoke intrigue in you. though you would never outwardly admit that to your mother, at the end of your second dance, you went for a beverage. opting for some time for yourself.

"I couldn't help but wonder if you were running from that man after that dance, or if the conversation was that good you needed to excuse yourself for a beverage." the voice snickers, standing beside you, "he was terrible, right?"

"I wasn't, I was just dehydrated." you remark, careful with your tone as you defend your doings. as you stand beside him, you cannot see his face as he is taller than you. lifting your head up would raise even more spectacle as you saw one woman and what appeared to be her sister point at you with the mysterious man at your side.

"so do they just dehydrate fair maidens now? seems like a trick to get you to marry the first man you see,"

you don't answer him quick enough.

"lord higurama is a good choice. he has a fair name and a inheritance to obtain, however, be wary of his drinking problem. heard he leaves bars at ungodly hours of the morning with holes in his pockets."

you can't help but gasp softly, almost in disbelief as the man beside you spoke so poorly of the men you danced with. it might have been a given that you needed to get out of here after those girls pointed at you with shock on their faces. have you just ruined your reputation?

"I respectfully fail to see how that is any of your concern, sir." you state, imposing a formal limit, "I have no desire to engage in talk if it pertains to stain the reputation of others."

"please," you hear him snort beside you and you freeze, feeling yourself slightly become smaller. "his reputation is done for. I'd be doing you a favor

"and your reputation, good sir?" you counter, but when you hear silence from him, you fear you have crossed the line. it isn't until you are pulled by mother you see this man. white hair adorns his features while stunning blue eyes decorate his face. the hold your mother has on you let's you know to stand well, and be presentable.

"Lord Gojo," your mother bows, slightly forcing you to bow with her, "what a pleasnt encounter to find you here. my condolences to you and your family after your father's passing."

"lady levington, you are too kind." he man before you bows, offering your mother a charming smile you can't help but hold back a jaw drop at his sudden charming behavior. "I assume you are enjoying your time at the final winter's ball?"

"indeed," your mother smiles charmed, "we were just enjoying our time at the ball. this is my daughter, lady levington. she is of the age to begin looking for a suitor," your mother states, "wouldn't you agree?"

"well I find it difficult to believe that your daughter will struggle to find a suitable partner given her agreeable nature," your jaw slightly clenches, "I suppose you have a large list of eligible bachelor's for your daughter?"

"oh yes," your mother smiles, "but I tell my daughter we must select carefully. it is growing rather difficult to choose an honorable man for marriage, yet modern problems always continue to arise with the passing of time. wouldn't you agree?"

"I couldn't have said it better myself," he smiles, "finding a husband has been growing to be tedious by the years, yet that is why we must be careful in selecting. london is unfortunately filled with lots of ineligible bachelors starting off with lawyers with questionable drinking and spending habits. a poor reflection on our society, wouldn't you agree?"

"it is unfortunate indeed," you mother sighs softly, "but we shall look carefully to ensure a positive outlook for the future."

"that is always a pleasure to hear," smiles gojo, offering a bow. "if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. it has been a pleasure to find you in good health, madam. and the best of my wishes to your lovely daughter as well."

after some concluding exchanges, your mother stands proudly with a smile on her face. "you will not believe who we just spoke to." she says, moving you away from the drinking station. "we must bid our farewells and leave as soon as possible."

"why?" you frown, "the dance doesn't end until-"

"-we've already met an eligible bachelor," your mother smiles, "you should've seen the look on everyone's faces. you will surely draw attention now, my dear."

the following day, you wake up to the following news from lady whistledown, having written an article about you.

"at the winter's ball, lady levington's beauty could be seen from a mile away, drawing the attention of lords. standing with such poise and grace, lady levington has proved herself to start off as an indestructible force with honor as her first name. will she perhaps be named diamond of the season? or indestructible diamond?"

[arbiterlexultionis]

Instant Eternity

Time travel involving the infinite realms is truly a bizarre thing. Sometimes it follow one set of rules, and sometimes that set of rules may as well not exist. Usually, however, it works in one of two ways, the first is when the time travel is achieved through artificial means such as clockworks portals and allows for the altering of the timeline as one would expect time travel would allow. The other type of time travel is through natural means, portals usually, and it’s just that, Natural. That portal to the past opened up in the past the same moment it did in the present. If you step into the portal in the year 2000 then you already stepped out of the portal hundreds of years ago. It’s A Thing That Already Happened. Danny himself experienced this, as while chasing Vlad through time they fought in the middle of a Roman coliseum and, whoopsy daisy, set a really big fire. A fire which Danny had learned about years before he even had his accident.

So, the infimap can take the user anywhere, anywhen. And the infimap is just that, a map. It doesn’t make new roads, it just drags you across already existing paths. So it is a natural form of time travel, if you use it to go in time to kill your grandfather in order to insure your never born your interference will result in your grandparents falling in love and your birth.

Danny realizes that anytime he needs to heal from a battle or has gone 156 hours without sleeping or eating he can use the infimap to pop back to the past for a few days and then have the map bring back to the “Present”, exactly one second after he left. A three week vacation that lasted one second. At first he’s really wary about using this, worried about accelerated aging or getting lost in the time stream and a hundred other issues. At first.

It’s been months sense the accident. Sam and Tucker have both shot up several inches. Danny, on the other hand, hasn’t grown sense the accident. At all. They fought a ghost who could rapidly age opponents, a single slap turned Tucker into a decrepit old man. The ghost wrapped his hands around Danny’s throat and spent 5 minutes trying to strangle him while Danny bought time for Sam and Tucker to pull off the plan. The sucked him into the thermos, his influence on time ceased so Tucker returned to his proper state. “Jeez it sure is lucky he didn’t try and age me, right guys? Ha ha ha”. Danny gets blasted through a natural portal while making a trip through the zone and spends years trying to get home, not aging a day.

He can’t deny it after that, can’t ignore it. He’s immortal. He’s going to live forever. He’s going to watch his friends and family whither away and die out. He’s going to have to spend the rest of his life wandering from place to place trying not to get outed as the same 14 year old who save someone’s great great grandma 100 years ago.

After having his first middeath crisis, suddenly the only reasons he had to not spend years on end wandering the world and the past is gone, even if he loses the infimap, worst case scenario he’ll just take the long way home. Suddenly, he’s dreading the next 80 years of the “Present”. He decides that if he’s going to watch his friends and family grow old and frail he’s going to make sure it’s takes as long as it possibly could, from his perspective. By the time they’re 20 Danny’s gonna have 200 years under his belt.

He becomes a temporal tourist, hopping into the past every time the late night fights and schoolwork become to much. Spends years in every civilization imaginable, mastering every skill he can, leaving legends in his wake.

I feel like Danny and his adventures do have a lot of potential for story’s, as it’s a pretty good setup for having Danny in any type of time period or historical event for extended periods of time, fighting in the trenches of World War I, exploring the Americas during the era of colonialism, sailing the seas a swashbuckling vigilante pirate. I, however, have most of my related ideas being based around crossovers. So most of that will be in part two, so that people who like to filter out all that can still see this post.

[tangledstarlight]

wild to think that if netflix werent the worst we could have had a jatp s2, maybe even a s3, by now. like. we could have had so many new songs😔

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[anna-scribbles]

guess who stayed up all night binging one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus​

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 15

We are set to arrive on Fendaar in two cycles. As we are currently stuck on the SIIR Noxos, I have concluded that the passages of time that I am free of duties would be best spent continuing to observe the human. The human, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans in that matter, as it took me an unusually long amount of time to locate her.

As I eventually found her, she seemed to be working on one of the control panels in the main control room, so I may excuse her absence with duties she had to attend to. As she saw me, although, she seemed rather…excited (this is obviously mere speculation, as the study of the Terran so far has provided far too little evidence to prove such theories)?

As she rolled out from under the control board and sighted me, her face once again split into a wide opening revealing her horrifying amount of teeth.

"Hey! Dude!", she said, raising to her full height and stepping towards me, still baring her teeth, although I did not recoil, as I did not want to seem impolite. She raised her arms, each pointing into a different direction, away from their connection to the human's body.

"Human Quinn. How are you?"

"Me? I‘m fine, the whole 'wandering around in space' thing just made me throw up, I honestly don‘t know why they insisted on keeping me there for two whole days."

The ends of her fingers, studded with claw-like (rather short and rounded instead of sharp, perhaps they were not meant to function as claws at all, or perhaps the beings on Terra were far different from what I knew, and therefore a shape like this was far more useful to hunt) protuberances, scraped over the back of the connection between her head and her upper body. If I interpreted her facial expression correctly, she seemed to be thinking.

"Maybe I got a light concussion too, I’m not entirely sure. But it's improbable, because I’m fine now."

I decided to focus on one piece of information at a time. "Well, this "throwing up" can certainly not be a healthy nor normal process, otherwise, it would not seem so violently painful and involuntary, would it?"

"Well it‘s not…unnatural, it‘s just something that can happen. And about health, it‘s not unhealthy, it usually helps us to get rid of stuff that is bad for our bodies!", she eludicated, moving one of her arms in a rather random manner.

"The scientists have concluded that this fluid is highly acidic. If this 'stuff' is so harmful to you, wouldn‘t it just dissolve in this fluid before being able to cause any further harm?"

Quinn seemed to think about that. 

"Well, just because it gets dissolved, doesn‘t mean it‘s gone, you know? It's still in our bodies, and we have to get rid of it somehow. And if it needs to be fast, we throw up. Honestly, I‘d definitely explain this further to you, but Biology‘s never really been my strongest subject, ya know what I mean?"

I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I decided against questioning her further.

After a pause the Terran spoke up again: "So, this planet we're landing on..." "Fendaar.", I clarified. "Right. So, this planet that we‘re going to, it‘s a desert, right?" "That is correct." "So, is it a sand, an ice or, I guess you could also count rock desert? 'Cuz on my planet, we‘ve got all of those types."

"Fendaar‘s ecosystem is mostly made up out of sandlike landscapes with rather scarce vegetation and biodiversity. Most of the planets in system 36-54 have rather extreme temperature ranges, and Fendaar is no exception.", I eludicated.

"Alright, cool.", she spoke, rolling back under the underside of the control panel she had been working on previously. She seemed to be sitting, or rather lying, on a piece of metal with four small wheels attached to it, allowing her to move it around.

"Your planet.", I initiated. 

"Yeah?", she responded, while continuing her work on the wiring.

"Am I assuming correctly that your planet has a far bigger biodiversity?"

"Oh, yeah.", there was a small spring in her voice, as if she had let out air in the middle of speaking. "Big biodiversity. We‘ve got deserts and rainforests, coral reefs and permafrost - although perhaps not for that long anymore - mountain ranges and all that stuff."

"Interesting.", I supplied, for lack of a better response. If Terra had such differences in temperature and landscapes, it was a logical conclusion that the humans had evolved to survive under such circumstances.

"Yeah."

It was unusually quiet for some time. That was, until Quinn rolled out from the underside of the control panels.

"Alright, I‘m done." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once again. Then, all of a sudden, the muscles of her face started contracting as if she was plagued by an invisible pain. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out horrifying noise, holding an arm angled in front of her nose and mouth. The noise itself was not particularly loud or long, but I recoiled either way, as a measure of safety. I could not be certain if this gesture was meant to harm me, after all.

Quinn‘s arm sank down again as her other hand rubbed at her nose. She huffed, a sound far less threatening than the one she had produced a moment ago. One of the hair patches above her visual organs raised itself, prompting the question to arise if human hair was controlled by muscles or if it had a mind of its own, although this was a question that could be further investigated later. One of the corners of her mouth raised, revealing the seemingly sharpest teeth in her mouth.

"I guess dust is an inter-galactic thing, huh?"

I did not respond. Her face muscles contracted, causing the skin above her visual organs to crease.

"Hey, you okay? You‘re looking a little spooked over there."

"Human, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, but, if I may ask, what was the purpose of the noise you just uttered?"

She did not respond for a moment, blinking with both of her eyes as she stared at me. It was quite unsettling, considering her previous explanation, that most humans preferred not being stared at. 

"I…sneezed?" The creases in the skin above her eyes deepened.

My front pliers uttered another rattling sound. "What is this 'sneezing'? What purpose does it serve?" I admit, I was quite curious. Terrans seemed much more complex than I had previously assumed.

She paused, seemingly to think of an answer. "Well, it‘s like…if something is bothering us at or in out nose, like dust, for example, it‘s kind of the natural response to that. To keep things out of our bodies that don‘t belong there."

"Human bodies seem to require a lot of defense mechanisms.", I commented.

She raised and lowered the connection of her arms to her upper body, baring her teeth once again while raising herself to her full height, using one of her arms as support.

"Y’know, it’s surprisingly hard to explain something you’re so used to to someone who’s never heard of it. I guess I still have to work on the whole 'awareness that I‘m around aliens' thing. S‘ kind of surreal."

She patted off her clothing, as if to remove non-existent filth once again. I had noticed the past few cycles that most of her clothing seemed to consist of several, usually differently-coloured, pieces of fabric. 

Her clothes usually covered her body from the connection between her arms and torso to the connection between her legs and, presumably, her feet. Her feet were usually also covered, although I could not determine the purpose it was supposed to serve in the environment we are currently in, although the theory that the conditions on Earth are vastly different compared to the ones on the SIIR Noxos is gaining more probability, based on the Terran's narrations.

The human seemed to evaluate a question she wanted to ask (this is, of course, a mere speculation based on previous observations: her face muscles were contracted to form a crease over her visual organs, which could so far most likely be interpreted as confusion, thoughtfulness or discomfort; her head was both slightly raised and tilted to one side at the same time, a gesture that was most likely supposed to convey an ongoing thought process).

Although, before she could utter a noise, V-7 informed us of a request from the Vitrichl to gather for a matter of importance.

The purpose of his summoning was to divide the crew into several smaller groups that were to be assigned with different tasks to fulfill once we sucessfully landed on Fendaar.

I was grouped with the Terran, which was unsurprising, as well as Tkzt, a member of the species that is widely known across the galaxies as Ctzas (it is to note that the Ctzas have not evolved any form of written language and communicate exclusively through clicking and chittering sounds. The written forms of, for example, names of this species, are written by other species to produce approximately the same sound as the Ctzas make when recited verbally).

Tkzt, as a member of the unit controlling supply chains and keeping a list of the stock of the SIIR Noxos, would make a helpful addition in our task of seeking out the nearest settlement in order to stock up on supplies.

After all matters of importance were settled, the crew dissipated, continuing their respective tasks. The Terran was ordered to stay and to assist the Vitrichl in another matter, which is the reason I did not cross paths with the human again for the rest of this cycle.

Despite this, I am positive that accompanying the human on an foreign planet will give me a further insight into the species' mannerisms and interaction manners with foreign species, which will prove to be helpful further on in studying the human.

[gearbroth]

[concept-dump] Space-au - (main(?) Antagonist) Skal, enemy of sun and mentor to iron

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I would say that, considering his history, he's not that wrong, but even I have doubts as to whether that would be right. But at the end of the day, this is just a joke that's been in my head for a while, sooooo…eh.

Oh hey, an attempt at a comic? Made by me? That I didn't give up during the process or lost all motivation? What was my only attempt at this, 2019? Damn, it's been a long time.

I thought about leaving this here without editing or any colors, just the natural ones from the paper and pencil. But something in my head said "HAHAHA, no" so I went back to work. I had to put this idea down on paper this time (literally). If another year passes without me being able to execute this idea, I would lose my mind.

This scenario was inspired by this video by Jehtt, inspired by the original meme by Windii. Credits to both of them.

For a long time I wanted to joke - especially on the anniversary - that I wanted Sammy to only have less than 5 seconds in the next game (or in other words, take his screen time in DR, and shorten it even more). You know, just for the funnies (unless..?) But,thanks to the news released at the beginning of January this year about The Cage, I legally can't do this joke anymore…this year. Don't worry, after that comes out (and finally gives Sam the screen time he wants,hopefully) and we start to crawl into the Bendy 3 production era, I'll make this joke when I can.

Anyway, happy birthday Sammy Lawrence. You may not be my favorite character in this franchise, but there are some things I can actually appreciate about you. Plus, you made me laugh a few moments before (you know what I'm talking about) so there's that.

And happy 7 years to Chapter 2, and by extension, Susie, Norman, Alice, the Searchers, (Johnny????), and Beta Ink Bendy. (I would mention Jack too, but he was only introduced with the release of CH4, so technically it's not his birthday yet, but I'll consider him here).

And now? May I be able to do something for CH4's anniversary. Wish me luck,cus I'll need it.

(it might be really late now, but it's still the 18th where I live, so it's still his birthday, so I still won)

[dekusleftsock]

Turning tragedy into hope-Let him lose those arms

I’ve tried making this post three times so let’s hope that third times the charm y’all.

I’m just gonna come out and say it but when I saw that panel where Izuku doesn’t have any hands I literally got so excited.

AND ITS NOT BECAUSE I LIKE MY FAVORITE CHARACTER GETTING BRUTALIZED (well? I do think it’s a little funny but shhh)

But it’s because this has been foreshadowed almost as much as the handhold itself between Izuku and Katsuki. And it’s wonderfully tragic in the best of ways. Literally half of the commentary surrounding it when it came out in the leaks was “omg I thought of that!” Because literally everyone and their mother KNEW this was coming in some form. Izuku was going to lose an arm, and that would be the case.

Hell, even outside of the story the amount of official art and AU’s Horikoshi drew that had Izuku without an arm is astounding. Like it’s so painfully obvious that this was coming, and so he upped the shock when he made Izuku lose them both.

Izuku is even doing his white eye thing, he isn’t shocked, he’s angry. My dude is pissed. Clearly, to me at least, the loss of his hands is less of a shock to him and more so that he’s angry that afo took away the reason he lost them in the first place—Tenko.

Y’all gotta remember who Izuku is, he’s the stubborn motherfucker that refused time and time again to give up on his dreams, he’s the one that illegally saved Iida and Katsuki, he’s the one that refused to let go of Tenko’s hands because when he was in his time of need, it comforted him.

Izuku has been told by his doctors for over a year atp that he was going to eventually either lose his hands, or lose the function within them. He’s accepted that. He can try to stop it, hold it off through equipment and treatment, but at the end of the day, everything breaks eventually. He knows that. We know that.

So if he was going to lose his arms in some way, it’d be through this: saving someone, holding their hands, never letting go, comforting them.

It’s tragic and sacrificial, but Aizawa’s the same. Did we make theories about how Eri is gonna heal him from being an amputee? Did the story say “actually due to this cool magical illusion/quirk it was all a mirage/eri could heal it”? No, it didn’t. Did Mirko somehow get her arms and legs back because they’re tied to how she views her strength? No, she didn’t.

And there’s a reason they didn’t. Multiple reasons they didn’t. They’re heroes, their scars tell their stories.

Not even mentioning how that’s such a trope (“everyone else keeps their long term injuries except for the main character because he’s special and gets main character powers, like not getting a disability from a dangerous job! :)”), but why should eri, a little girl, be responsible for everyone’s injuries? She doesn’t even have full control yet, she’s playing it by day. (People LOVE to talk about how all the 1-A kids are just kids fighting in a war, except when it comes to a little girl being responsible for everyone’s injuries, somehow)

The reason eri was shown wasn’t because she was going to somehow save the day, but because she wasn’t. It was supposed to stop those theories from having actual merit, because eri doesn’t actually have the built up strength to help.

So, with that out of the way, I wanted to say how this is so fucking beautiful. It’s tragic yes, Izuku and Katsuki never got to hold hands, not properly, but maybe the measure of their trust is beyond that. Maybe, an embrace could suffice—this would go back to Izuku’s vigilante arc. Where, instead of holding hands, Katsuki caught him when he needed to. And he’s going to do it, again and again.

Maybe holding a robot or silicone arm won’t feel the same, but it’s the feelings surrounding it that matters, not the act itself. The hand hold is still there, the hands still haunt the narrative like a mouse within the walls. It bites at cords like their own emotional walls.

Katsuki missed his chance, over and over again, and he’s going to have to come to terms with that. But that’s not to say that the story won’t let this aspect haunt the narrative like it always has. It’s still THERE, and I believe in Horikoshi to continue to write a story about hands while the main character doesn’t even have them.

Izuku’s hands are tied to his strength, physically and emotionally. He views them has the glue that ties his heroics to himself. His hands have always reached out to others, his hands have always punched those who were wrong, and even when he had to switch fighting styles he still saw them as the reason he was able to fight at all. They represent OFA, his love, his anger, his weakness, his strength. They represent his sense of self, and yet he’s more outraged than hurt that he lost them for Tenko to be free—only for AFO to take away that freedom all over again.

THATS why the loss had to happen. THIS. He lost something so incredibly valuable to himself, but he lost them of his own accord. He could have let go of Tenko at any moment, yet he didn’t because he wanted Tenko to know comfort and freedom. He wanted him to be free.

You could say that Tenko was telling Izuku to let go because he was breaking down his emotional resolve, and I believe you could also say that he was telling Izuku to let go so he doesn’t hurt someone who tried to help him all over again. You could say it’s both. It’s selfish and selfless, like everything in this story is. But Izuku refused to, and that was a choice Tenko could never take away from him.

So, that’s how I’ll turn this tragedy to hope, because this was done out of Izuku’s love, why take away that meaning?

Why put them back?

Why take away those scars?

Scars tell stories, they tell you how we became the greatest heroes.

[seaweedstarshine]

[just after having helped River make a getaway from a heist of an astatine lace shawl — the rarest substance in the universe — without her even needing to ask beyond a simple “hello sweetie” scrawl in the sky] [Eleventh Doctor] “I can see its worth — but Alice is right! What’s so special about a lace shawl?” [River] “Ah, well, lace, you see, is the traditional gift for a thirteenth wedding anniversary…” [Eleventh Doctor] “Wedding anniversary? Whose wedding anniversary?” [River] “Spoilers…!” *winks* [Thirteenth Doctor, reminiscing] “I love River.”

HAPPY THIRTEENTH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TO THE DOCTOR AND RIVER SONG!

Sources: Diary of River Song: The Furies, Diary of River Song: The Lady in the Lake, The Day of the Moon, Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition #33, The Wedding of River Song, The Big Bang, The Angels Take Manhattan, The Many Lives of Doctor Who: Without a Paddle, The Time of the Doctor, Forest of the Dead, Let's Kill Hitler, Diary of River Song: The Wife of River Song, Eleventh Doctor Year Two: Physician Heal Thyself, A Good Man Goes to War, Eleventh Doctor Chronicles: Broken Hearts, The Husbands of River Song, Doctor Who Confidential: When Time Froze

[theosconfessions]

@ohsosims

if youd like to read the stephens from the beginning you can over here :)

if youd like to read the stephens continued you can over here:)

Theo- Sugartits! good coffee date with marlee? Dustin- DUDE!!! dude.. i thought our problems were big? move over [kicks theo in the back a little] Theo- OW? im old and feeble. Dustin- fuck yourself. move over. Theo- [laughs] okay shit! what happened?? not like im arguing here but what was that for? Dustin- just happy to be away from the drama. Theo-okay but im me. im always drama. Dustin- [scoffs] you know what i mean . Theo- i dont because you havent told robin and i shit. Dustin- i mean. just the jami thing. we just so happened to be somewhere at the same time as jami and his new girlfriend and DUDE. the jealousy coming from her? Robin- Seriously? she totally knew he was going to be there. Dustin- I dont know, bobbi. Robin- NO. theo pulled that shit on you after he left and he was trying to come back. he would show up everywhere youd normally go. Theo- well dad and i own a bar. so. Robin- you know what i mean. Theo- yeah i know what you mean. and i was doing that. sort of. like i said we had to see eachother either way. BUT the thing with marlee and jami is drastically different because for one i never once called dustin stepmom unless he was into it that night. Robin- im going to vomit. seriously this is what i get for trying to bond with you,theo. last time. Theo-win!

[sophieswundergarten]

I was thinking about how people always say that "execution is everything" with telling a story.

And it's true

If you come at your story sly and malicious, hacking at with a butcher's knife until it's a bloody mess that you then lay proudly at the feet of your audience as the spoils of a kill, it isn't likely to be any good

The bits are mixed around, the bones shattered and fragmented. There is certainly blood everywhere, staining your clothes and dripping from your hands as you try and cajole people into stopping by and taking a look

It doesn't quite work

But, if you look at your story, and understand the grace and fluidity of its life, then you may execute it elegantly

Because it is still a death. It is still a sacrifice, to have your story out of your hands and no longer living and growing and changing according to your whims

Because, when the tree is felled and the pulp is bleached and the ink has dried and the binding set, you can't control it anymore. The story is now in the hands of your audience, and it's up to them what happens to it

A properly executed story is laid to rest in the peace of the wild, left to allow the ecosystem to explore and reclaim it as their own with moss and lichen and mushrooms and carrion eaters and leaf-litter dwellers

That is the only way a story is properly executed; dead by your hands, yes, but constantly feeding the life of others and fueling their own stories

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

If you want to, Pep, you can imagine the clouds as different shapes! That always helps me pass the time when I’m outside. (Also your art is great and is one of the major fuel sources for my Pizza Tower HYPERFIXATION)

Pep: "Rewot eht ni saw siht ekil gnihton... Em ot wen etiuq llits lla si ti. Sduolc eht... Yks eht..."

Pep: "Sgniht tnereffid hcus ees tey dna, yks emas eht ot pu kool llams dna taerg serutaerc lla... Tnatsnoc syawla tub ,gnignahc reverof ti si woh. Sruoloc ynam os dloh ti seod woh. Thgin eht nees evah I. Yad eht nees evah I."

Pep: "..."

Pep: "Azzip fo ecils a ekil skool eno taht...?"

Pep: "...!"

Brick: "...?!"

Pep: "Kcirb, yrros, ho..."

Pep: "..."

Pep: "Oot ti nees evah dluoc yeht hsiw I. Ecin s'ti... Ssarg eht ekil I..."

Pep: "Mrp?"

Pep: "Won retteb leef od I. Sdneirf eizarg, heh."

[broken-clover]

It's eternally a little funny whenever I see someone say something along the lines of 'everyone in Strive is so happy now! Everyone's stories are getting resolved! It'll be hard to make a new game when everyone's retired and living peacefully and resolved their problems' and then there's a haunted semi-sentient mecha corpse in the corner constantly screaming from being trapped in limbo

[clockworkbee]

Historical romances, stories of young, innocent love, clandestine meetings, that longing for a kiss, then parting of ways, that train taking one of them far away, writing letters and waiting for them, letters lost or left unread, a lover holding the other as a brutal wave makes them lose their balance, sticking together through the best and the worst of it—stories that break your heart but leave you smiling through the tears.