latreilledor

[skywerse]

I had them for only a day, but they're the silliest ever

[aroaceleovaldez]

It's honestly wild to me that ToA went through so much trouble to emphasize the fact that Will did not magically fix all of Nico's problems and was explicitly not Nico's only doctor.

Only for TSATS to have Will fix all of Nico's problems and have Nico be entirely reliant on him the entire book and literally helpless without him and LITERALLY have Nico's problems be magically removed.

[nitw]

this is my favorite weird little thing about flynn. why man

[notquitehuman-creations]

noah loaf. noaf.

[void-tiger]

An Idea that is also admittedly OOC but wdyd is…

Kakashi actually tracking down Itachi immediately after the Uchiha Genocide ‘cause let’s face it, he’s that good of a tracker/shinobi (even if Itachi can completely kick his ass) and single-minded when in mission-mode and was clearly not one of the ANBU/Root or S-Rank jonin enlisted for this. (If he’s going rogue instead of bending the rules for a half-hearted sanctioned pursuit? Call it his Obito&Rin Guilt Complex + remaining guilt over not keeping a better eye on his “junior” when Minato literally dragged Kakashi out of that life for a time so he could recover a bit mentally.)

Anyway. Kakashi catches up to Itachi.

But instead of finding the tween prodigy hypervigilent in bloodlust and ready to engage him in a battle, he accidentally finds the kid mid-breakdown absolutely losing it in grief and guilt once Itachi presumed he was a good distance away from any Konoha or Atasuki pursuers.

And well. This is awkward. And not at all what Kakashi expected.

Does this finally knock Kakashi a bit out of his avoidant apathy to take a more active interest in Sasuke’s and Naruto’s lives? Maybe? But well, it’s a start. Only trash abandon their comrades.

[serpentface]

Is Tigran's backstory of being his aunt's bookie still a thing? I've been thinking of that one pic of him(?) playing a lyre with a nervous expression on his face but is that him anymore?

"an ex-monk" makes me wonder how things have worked out between then and now

OK so the thing is. The main focus of this setting was originally the story called Blightseed, which The White Calf was a prequel to. Tigran was one of the Whitecalf characters who shows up in Blightseed. When I started actively working on it again, I ended up being wayyyy more attached to Whitecalf and focusing on it entirely, (I've also done more to develop the setting in this single year than I have in like, the rest of the 10ish years of its existence). So a lot of that stuff from a year+ ago is tenuously canon at absolute most and should be disregarded.

I don't have the full ending ironed out beyond the major plot elements and most of the character's specific fates are undecided to the point that I'm not even sure of all their survival statuses (Janeys and Brakul are currently in a Schrodinger's Buried Gays situation where they are either both Extremely dead or Extremely alive, Faiza is like 95% dead, Palo, Tigran, and Hibrides are alive, Couya is the only fully decided main character because she ends up becoming a god-emperor and antagonist for a hypothetically existing Blightseed story).

I will say the broad strokes of that outcome are still VERY likely for Tigran. He ends up being a (mostly unwitting) accomplice to a devastatingly successful coup and will probably choose to go into hiding rather than deal with potential longterm consequences. There's a high chance of him ending up as a long haired bleach-blond with torn out piercings and gambling issues working as a bookkeeper/errandboy/musical talent at a brothel, paranoid that someone's gonna come after him and convinced that he's cursed.

[nyaskitten]

goshdang are those some lego ninjagoes??????

(please reblog!!!)

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

fun youngblood chronicle idea: patrick dies of his injuries in the phoenix music video and the only thing keeping him alive is the drugs from young volcanos/demon possessing him

[fictionadventurer]

Me: Is this Farmer Boy sequel written in 2012 really going to be able to feel like a legitimate follow-up to the style and atmosphere of the original, or is it just another modern cash-grab?

Heather Williams, on page 2: Best of all, he knew that fall meant crispy spareribs and sweet cider and hot roasted potatoes with melting butter and all the pumpkin pie he could eat.

Me: ....it looks like I can trust you. Carry on.

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[blissfulalchemist]

Aria Dawson (uncharted) // Siberite Akagane (ffxiv) // Alma Pataki (ffxvi) Tia Caro (bloodlines/va) // Clio Zandra (twc) // Sahar Mahin (m*rv*l)

Got tagged by @rhettsabbott @shellibisshe and @adelaidedrubman to use this meiker to create some ladies so have this variety pack of them!

tagging: @belorage @florbelles @unholymilf @strafethesesinners @confidentandgood

@shallow-gravy @chyrstis @jackiesarch @leviiackrman @deputyash and anyone else that wants to!

opt in tags ver. 1 and ver. 2

[catto-ohno]

If Capitano is a cryo claymore I think little freminet absolutely adored him and was completely inspired by him.

[hispanicin]

Elemental was done so dirty by its marketing. It's not a simple "Oh I'm fire you're water we're sooo different :(" it's actually a really really impactful story about an immigrant family and community, and the effects of watching your parents sacrifice so much for you to help you grow up.

[gloriousmonsters]

Mememememe I want to see

please enjoy a selection from you're on a path in the desert, chapter 2: 'The Ancient', brought about by wondering what ganondorf's motivation is and being honest and brash enough he kind of likes you and is like 'sorry, kid' while murdering you to attempt a breakout in the first chapter. narrated by Zelda, starring Link and Ganondorf.

--------

You're on a path in the desert. Or... it's more of a beach, isn't it? You can hear the sea. Small crabs scuttle and hide among rocks smoothed by eons of lapping waves; the pristine sands glitter, here and there, with old coins and jewels set in tarnished metal. Pirate treasures, as if a ship was wrecked here long ago. A lonely blue sky arches high above, unmarred by a single cloud. A path of scattered white rocks, like sun-bleached bones, lead toward the edge of the water. At the end of this path, a man with evil eyes is imprisoned. A king. You, hero, must slay him; or it will be the end of the world.

Voice of the Curious: He didn't seem that bad!

- Yeah, he wasn't as bad as she hyped him up to be.

- Bad? He was very bad! I'm completely on board with the 'slaying' thing now.

- Hang on, how are we here? Didn't we die?

> I see what you mean, but he did very much kill us. That was a thing that happened.

Voice of the Curious: I guess, but he was so... sad. He just wanted to escape. He seemed like he'd been there for a really long time.

> He did.

Excuse me, who's this? And what are you saying about dying? Please don't tell me—

Voice of the Curious : We died and we came back to life!

- More or less.

- I died and it was terrifying and now I'm me and also this other part of me and they're both me and I don't know how that works or what's going on and I'm going to start crying probably

> This isn't the first time we've been here. Your 'man with the evil eyes' was the one that killed me, not the other way around.

He's not mine, and... It wouldn't be the same, the other way around. You need to slay him, not kill him.

- I get it. I'm a human, and he's a monster.

> Semantics.

Very important ones. Listen to me, hero. I hoped that this wouldn't happen, and I didn't want to scare you with the possibility. But please believe me—we're walking a fine line, now. All is not lost, but every failure widens his chance at escape.

Voice of the Curious: Really?

I do not like how you said that. This... voice, whatever it is, it seems very young. Don't let naivety influence you, hero. One failure means he's already found a chink in your armor—it is even more imperative you keep your guard up. Whatever he said, whatever he did, put it out of your mind. Focus on this. He is evil, and he will destroy everything if he escapes. You are the hero, the only one with the power to stop him. I—everything depends on you.

Voice of the Curious : That's a lot of pressure...

- I love pressure.

- I hate pressure.

 > Are you really sure I can do this?

Yes. You’re the only one that can. 

Voice of the Curious: Wow, she sounds... so serious. I don't know if I trust her, but I think she likes you.

Ha. That's... You matter a great deal to me. By definition, of course. You’re the hero, you matter to everyone. But we don't have time to sit here and talk about our feelings, whatever they might be. Your quest is the same, hero. It's time to go forward.

> (proceed to the prison)

N: At the edge of the water, the path of rocks continue—for a little while. Soon they're fewer and farther between, and in their place are footholds of debris, half-rotted hulls of wood, old chests rammed up on some invisible sandbank below the water. There have been many wrecks here, and as you pick your way forward, you see the largest of them up ahead. Splintered and broken, its massive hull impaled on the tall and jagged rocks that rise from the hidden seabed, like towers of some sunken castle. The rest of it is remarkably intact, but it looks ancient. Weathered, by years that have sapped color from cloth and wood and leached memory from material. Every detail blurred. The figurehead is faceless, nearly formless, like the... like the image of a loved one long forgotten.

> Are you all right?

Your path ends—or rather, takes a new form—at the side of the wreck. An old rope ladder leads up the barnacle-encrusted side. The old wood creaks as you ascend, but even that sound is... muted. This ship isn't just wrecked, it's becalmed. The muting of that sound makes you acutely aware of the absence of others. No birds cry in the sky; no fish splash in the water. The land behind you is already lost in a hazy fog. This is a lonely place.

Voice of the Curious: She's making it sound so depressing. It's sad, but it's also sort of cool, right? It's like an old pirate ship! It doesn't feel like a prison, it feels like... like a hideout!

Please be quiet. It's a prison. It might look... odd, but it's a prison.

Voice of the Curious : Do you think there's treasure?

...No.

Voice of the Curious: ...You want there to be treasure too, right?

I'm not interested. We have a very important job to do. To your left, across the weathered deck, a door leads to the fo'c'sle. It's not locked, but it's encrusted with barnacles, warped in its frame. Beside it, a sword is embedded in the wall, as if left there after a battle long ago. It gleams with its own light—

Voice of the Curious: It's not glowing, though. It's just a sword.

It's not—but... Ah. Yes. Well, it doesn't need to glow, does it? It's the hero's sword. It's made to kill evildoers and monsters. It's meant for your hand, and your hand alone. Take up the sword, hero. You'll need it if you want to save us all.

- But it's not glowing. Didn't you say it was important it glowed?

- What if I don't want to save everyone?

> take up the sword

- don't take up the sword

Sword in hand, you force open the door, rusted hinges screeching as you shove your whole body's weight against it. Before you is a sheer drop, lightless, only the first few feet visible in the foggy sunlight that filters past your shoulders. A rope ladder hangs over the ledge at your feet, vanishing into shadow. The air is musty, damp, and smells of moldering spice and rotting silk, wood permeated with gunsmoke and worried by the icy teeth of the ocean over the course of centuries. If this is the prison the king's been confined in, killing him will be a mercy.

His voice echoes up from the darkness, tired but commanding.

The King: I knew you'd return. Come here, boy. Let us speak face to face.

Voice of the Curious: He remembers us! And he sounds... older. I mean, he was already older than us. But he sounds much older now. 

Of course he's old, he's been in prison for a long time. Don't dwell on it or wonder about it, the more time and thought you give him the more dangerous he is. Just get down there and accomplish your quest.

> proceed down the 'stairs'

After what feels like half an hour of nerve-wracking descent, feeling for foot and hand-holds in the darkness, light begins to bloom below you. When you come to the bottom, a few minutes later, you find yourself facing another door—this one richly carved wood, remarkably well-preserved considering the state of the ship. It's hard to make out much in the light filtering through the cracks around it, but you can see intricate, geometric patterns, and the snarling face of a boarlike beast carved huge in the very center.

Voice of the Curious: What—

You waste no time fooling around and asking questions, and open the door. Striding within, you find yourself confronted with a surprisingly lavish room, dimly lit by old oil-lamps. Rich rugs cover the floor; a huge bed stands in the back of the room, partly hidden by curtains, and a huge desk carved with intricate details dominates another side of the room. Tapestries, paintings and maps nearly cover the walls, save for a section that seems dedicated to a number of weapons—at a glance you see twin swords and a trident. Everything feels a little... oversized, as if you're a child venturing into the room of an adult. When you look closer, you can see signs of wear and age—cracking paint, books with pages puffed by soaking and drying out, scratches in the fine wood and dust on the tapestries—but the overall effect is still opulent, overwhelming. This feels right for a prison meant to confine a king; it would be suitable for an emperor, confined to his office by the new regime, allowed to keep a pretense of dignity.

But across the room from you, there's a strangely bare section of the wall, interrupted by only two things: A porthole filled more by spiderwebbing cracks than glass, showing only blank darkness, and the King, who stands tall and studies you thoughtfully with pale gold eyes.

The King: You approach me, yet again, with your blade in hand. Interesting.

He's a big man, broad and heavy, a physique that might impress as brutish or sedentary if not for the way he holds himself. Straight-backed, imperious, with a hint of a fighter's grace in the way his stance shifts as his eyes track the step you take forward. There's no gray in his hair, or deep wrinkles on his face, but something about him gives an impression of great age and greater weariness. His face is craggy, but his eyes are delicately lined with black; he wears a topaz on his brow, and fine robes that inspire ideas of entrenched and confident authority. As he seems to reach an internal resolution in his appraisal of you, his teeth bare in what is hard to determine as a mocking smile or a grimace of pain.

The King: I suppose that if you try to kill me this time, it will only be fair. But I'd rather we talk.

Voice of the Curious: Ooh, talk! Yes! I want to know what's going on! Just, um, maybe we should stay at a distance.

Remember what you're here for. Don't listen to him, or him. Please, hero. Kill him now.

- slay the king

- kill him?

- You killed me last time, I'd like an apology before we do anything else.

> All right. Let's talk.

[formulatrash]

What do you think about Daniel Ricciardo?

idk if it was the water at Enstone or whether Cyril was treating him well or whatever but his hair has never looked as good as it did when he was at Renault

[zincbot]

i gotta say, 13 hours into omori, i don't get why people call it a horror game