#ersatz abyss

[r00mmat3]

Everyone go read ersatz abyss by @katreal-fic. Like right now.

[cosmic-pindrops]

Inspired by @katreal-fic’s story Ersatz Abyss. The way Katreal writes imagery is so amazing I couldn’t help myself <3

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

Author: @katreal-fic

[calware]

my roommate is a saint because they listen to me talk about homestuck constantly. they also really like hal but don't want to read the comic itself so i had them read ersatz abyss (which they really liked) and for anyone who hasn't read the fic, equius is in it so i had to explain his whole deal with like.... his casteism, his treatment of aradia, etc.

anyways. fast forward to several months of having known about equius, i was talking to them some more about him and said something along the lines of "it's kind of uncomfortable how often the sex jokes are incorporated into his character, what with him being 13 and all" and they were like "WHAT???? HE'S 13???"

I HADN'T MENTIONED HIS AGE UNTIL THIS POINT... THEY THOUGHT HE WAS LIKE SOME 21-YEAR-OLD GREASY COLLEGE-AGED KID. and now i'm wondering what ages all of the other characters would be interpreted as if the audience didn't have an age to go off of

[conceptofjoy]

have you read ersatz abyss? it isn't a family fic but it is a dirk and hal fic so i figured you might be interested

IM FUCKIN READIN IT RN LMAOOO. i had to take a break bc it was . its just.

AUAUGAUUUUUUUUGUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[elgascreamslikehell]

So here we are

Rating g?(I'm old deal with it)

Words 3804

Remarks: I'm more depressed than they are and my autistic ass gets a hyper fixation on them anyway. And yes my sarcasm is unstoppable sorry@notsorry

Eddie is so tired of Buckley lately.

Eddie is so tired when he even sees Buck's face. With all this mimics and unreadable signs. Or there's no signs at all, it's only Eddie's mind games. Most probably it is. Buckley just makes him feel... Feelings.

Eddie doesn't like it. He doesn't like feelings. He prefers not to feel them. He just can't. Evan is everywhere!

He goes to work - there's Evan, he comes home - Evan. He could even enjoy it, apparently, if not for one thing. He feels something to Evan he definitely should not.

It shouldn't be so much of surprise but here he is. He has his toothbrush in Eddie's bathroom, his towel, his drawer with clothes and some stuff. God, most of Eddie's kitchen belongs to Buck! His son belongs to Buck. Legally.

They are best friends. You can't possibly want to kiss your friend. Or worse. It's not fine!

And still he wants. He wants Buck to be... His. That's selfish, no doubt, but he never says he's an angel. So he wants Buck to be his Buck. For real.

They have right now some really twisted friendship to be fair. Ersatz-family. They basically live together, eat together, spend most of the time together. But then Buck says 'It was nice, see you!' and flees away when Eddie wants him to stay. Like forever.

It's fucking scary to be honest. Cause neither Ana nor Marisol never felt that way. It was fun, of course, but... Eddie was fine with them leaving. Actually he was usually quite glad they left.

He is never glad Buckley leaves. Cause he feels it. Eddie hates to feel. And really, even his home is not much of a home when Buck isn't there.

Oh, yes. He fucked up.

***

Anyway their shifts matches most of the time, apparently Bobby sees them as a perfect team somehow, maybe because they share one braincell. And that's definitely Bucks braincell, Eddie just looses it near Evan every time, it's a fortune he can pretend. And a torture at the same time.

And that's exactly explain how they even end up in this situation, tied to each other and standing on the unsafe surface.

"Listen, Edds, I thought..."

Ground starts to shake a little. There was not earthquake warning but still

"Guys, can you please hurry up, it looks dangerous!"

***

When ground under their feet starts to crumble Eddie should decide one thing. Very fast. Like he is back to army. He hates it. Basically because it's so strange - and a little creepy - to answer this kind of question instantly in your head.

If something go wrong who is more expendable? Like now?

That's not really a question - Eddie answered it long time ago.

And it's not Buck.

Never him.

In any case, Diaz could not take another time seeing Buck dead, thank you very much. It still haunts him.

Every time Buckley runs into danger - Eddie freezes. Cause he has a bold picture in his eyes of dead Evan Buckley under the pouring rain.

But if he really needs to explain. How many people would be hurt in this hypothetical situation one of them died? Eddie's list is first. He has Chris.

Well, it's not a long list to be honest.

And here we have Buck's list.

From the top of his head it would be Maddie, Bobby, Athena, Jee Yun, Chris... And Eddie himself, last but not least.

He might be not so good at math as Buckley but that he gets.

Problem solved!

He cuts his safety rope before Buck even tries to say a word and slides down to the abyss seeing how the way is crushed leaving Buck on the other side.

Well, it is not really abyss, of course. Just old water collector. Not a big difference right now.

"Diaz, report! We're coming back for you, only need to reassure this thing won't demolish!"

He stands up. Ok, he's alive. A little confused - looks like a mild concussion, never killed anyone - so basically fine. Only one thing. That's a water collector. Filling up with water fast.

"I'm fine. Little concussion, bruise on the shoulder, it's nothing. Is there any rain?"

"Not here but according to the forecast it's heavy rainfall up the hill, and i suppose you're okay if you asks about the weather"

Well yes but actually no, how to bring it up.

"It could become a problem here.."

His speech is breaking a little

"I ...want to have a confession."

"Maybe you can wait till we get you out? And then you can confess anything. Right after you give me a valid excuse why the heck did you cut your safety rope AGAIN."

Well, it's possible that he has some... Issues. Or just hates harnesses of any kind!

"Bobby.... It's a water collector. It takes, as i can recall, ten to twelve minutes to fill up completely. There's a strong chance you ...don't get me. You know that, i know that. Let's be ....honest."

"Don't you dare, Diaz!"

He can't help but laughs. Oh, captain, you have no idea what he dares now

"It's... fine. I'm an irresponsible ....idiot.... anyway... How's Buck?"

"I'm fine. We're coming for you!"

That's a shame he hears it. So, Edds, you are an idiot in the end.

"Yes, ...okay... Fine"

He tries so hard to his voice sounds normal. More normal then before. It is one thing that Bobby hears him. Or Chim. Or Hen. Or Ravi. Actually anyone but Buck. He is a whole different story, but here we are.

So breath in. Breath out. It's fine till you can still keep yourself together.

"Eddie, talk! Stay on the line."

"Yes...sir"

It's like a nightmare to be fair. Well 2.0. But this time there's no way out.

"Report, Eddie. Just talk to me. We need you to stay awake"

He doesn't want to. It's cold and there's water everywhere. Surprisingly, water. In the water collector. And he definitely has a not-so-mild concussion. And he will die here.

"Eddie!"

This voice again. Doesn't Buck know how hard is to listen him? And feel so much!

"I'm still...here. Just... I really need to rest...a little..."

"The hell no! Talk to me, Edds!"

He sighnes. If he maybe find a spot to rest just a little bit he can proceed searching for an exit. Cause there should be one. Otherwise it's...

"It's... like a grave. But I'm fine. Just needed a moment. I'm here.. When i stuck in the well i wasn't sure I'll survive but somehow i did, so... Sometimes i regret it..."

"Say what now?!"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Acting - A+. Take a cookie.

"There should be a hole in the ceiling... kinda. The one i fell down. It's not that high but... I'm not sure i can reach it"

Mostly because he is sure he can't. It's just a play, cause it is highly likely they can't find him in time. And then they hear him literally dying. It's bad. Bobby doesn't deserve it. Buck... Buck just should not hear it at all costs.

"We dismantled the first heap. We're coming for you. Do you copy?"

"Yes..."

He is just tired. So, - and it is totally not okay - , it would be a relief. To not have to deal with... everything.

"You know, Edds, there's a new exotic creatures exhibition. We need to go. Chris would love it!"

Oh fuck. He's so irresponsible idiot in the end, and terrible, horrible father.

"Of course... Buck. But... if anything happens... You do take Chris there anyway!"

"Nothing's gonna happen. We're close"

He is close too. Buck once said that he should not be pretending around him, yet he never said that about others. That's nice. But there's no more pretending here. The water is literally up to his mouth. That's funny how fast this old thing could fill up.

"Good... i still need to... confess...."

He exhales loudly. It is really hard to breathe right now. And he definitely needs to rest.

There's a break in a line or he somehow managed to pass out for a second. Waking up to his radio screaming

"Eddie!! Talk to me!!"

He just can't

"I... Here's... here's a thing... I...lied... I'm an awful...friend ..."

He slips down the wall and cold water wakes him up a little

"No you're not! You're my best friend, come on! We're close. I'm close!"

And yet he is an awful friend who just takes Evan Buckley for granted. No reason. Anytime he needs it - Buck's there. Nice epiphany, nice timing. So nice. If he were Buck he would hate himself. Like Eddie-self, hell that's hard.

If he can say it right now? In all that crappy movies Buck likes there's always a person who confesses on the death bed. For like half an hour straight. Really cheesy, really unrealistic. Eddie'd like to have so much time and strength but he apparently has not.

"I'm... glad...to hear... that. You... think...so...but... I'm not. I'm...i just need...to rest... For a... moment "

It's harder to proceed talking. Or keep himself above the water.

"No! Please, go on, talk, for fuck sake, Edds!"

He tries. He really does. He just closes his eyes but it's fine. It would be fine.

"Chris won't... won't be... alone. It...was..nice...to know you... guys. Like a family... really "

He hears Buck swears furiously. And...it sounds like stones are trembling around.

"There's some problem but we're coming, Diaz. Stay with us!"

"Yep. You're not gonna die there, not on my watch!"

Interesting, what that's supposed to mean, Evan.

Bobby is mad at him. Why, exactly? They are all mad at him. Not the perfect decision for them to be fair. Kinda hurt. He saved the day. If he would not have cut his rope there would be two of them drowning. Bobby won't be glad, he was devastated last time Buck was in trouble. So Edds's kinda hero actually. Again. Might get another medal. Would be fun.

"Buck...i... I need you..to know..."

"I don't want to! Don't do this! We'll talk when you're here, Eddie, just hold on! Please!"

Interesting...if Buck also feel something now? Like... A pity? Cause hell Eddie's pathetic now.

"That's... Kinda become now or.. never... moment.. you have...you have to know..."

He's panting and they hear it, definitely. And Buck hears it too. Hell he is pathetic.

"I'm... desperately guilty before.. before you Evan... I'm... I'm sorry... and... i...."

He tried to turn off the radio but can't keep it in his hands. Device touches the cold water surface same second Eddie's head slide under it. Radio chokes on screaming.

"Eddie. Eddie! Diaz! Report! Diaz!"

Silence.

***

"He can drown there, speed up!"

"Buck, easy, you're gonna hurt yourself"

Da fuck he is.

"He's there, Bobby, and his son is waiting for him home and I'm interested how would you possibly explain it to Chris if Eddie's not coming back? So let me go there! Give me the god damn rope! Eddie! Edds I'm coming down, don't you dare die there! You owe me an explanation!"

Bobby exhales. Yes, explaining that to Chris would be a nightmare. But the worst nightmare would be seeing Buck. Every day. With these eyes full of pain and something else he doesn't want to know. Buck's so obvious now.

***

Cold water is actually more refreshing then he could even imagine. Or it's the legendary 'second breath' or he just so humiliated by now that even dying would be too good - Eddie is not sure. There's still not enough oxygen to breathe normally but who cares. He can't just die here making Buck hear it.

Radio is obviously dead but he is obviously not. And he definitely hears screams.

"Eddie! For fuck sake where are you?! I'm coming!"

He even see the light. And surprisingly not that light like afterlife, it's a flashlight

"Here... I'm still here!"

It's all messed up in his head and he watches it from aside. Buck buckle him up to the rope, pulling out from the water, dragging him to the fresh air and putting on the mask.

It's overwhelming, too much - Eddie coughs profusely. And Buckley is obviously teared up.

"Hey Eddie. It was close. You should not do that kind of stuff. You have the order, you execute it, no messing around!"

"Cut it, Bobby. Give him some time! We're heading to the ER"

Eddie takes off his oxygen mask

"Thanks. I was pretty sure I'll die there this time"

And that somehow drives Evan insane

"I KNOW! I HEAR IT ALL ALONG, YOU JUST TALKING NONSENSE AND PANTING AND THEN YOU FELL SILENT I THOUGHT MY HEART IS GONNA COLLAPSE! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU DO THIS?!"

Is it normal that Eddie's somehow flattered by this? He sure knows Buckley was worried but not like that?

"Sorry? I can.. explain. Just need to rest for a moment."

He feels dizzy. And yet he is kinda calm slipping off, away from feelings.

"Eddie?!"

***

"He needs some rest. We discharge him tomorrow, for now he's just staying here for observation. And then he can go home and proceed resting"

"Thanks, doc. Give me a call when we can take him home"

"No. I'll take him. Anyway I'll be with Chris. Oh, and now you wake up. Don't you maybe wanna talk?!"

Buck is mad as hell. Actually Eddie is not sure he ever saw Buck that mad.

"No? I'm fine, thanks"

"Diaz. You are so troubled we definitely need to discuss your behaviour, i thought i have only one child in the team. Apparently i was wrong. But it can wait. Get better."

Okay, Bobby is also mad. Da fuck are they all mad? Nobody died! It would be so much easier.

Bobby left the room, leaving this two alone.

"I'm gonna go home, Chris must be worried as hell. Give me a call when they push you out, you still owe me an explanation."

And then he just go away. Like so.

Eddie is a mess. So much feelings he just can't process right now. Does Evan even think when he speaks? He goes home. But it should be Eddie's home? Maybe it is just short way to call it? Man how did he get here. He was married! He dated girls. Ana. And this... God, how come he forgets her name every time.

Buck also had girlfriends. It didn't go well, but still.

And does he actually need to explain himself? Fuck this.

***

Of course they discharge him unexpectedly. Well, or he just convinced them that he is totally fine. Who cares. Of course he decided not to call anyone. Of course he's now standing in front of his own house and of course he is clearly afraid to come in. What the actual hell. It's his house!

It's quite, as expected. It's six in the morning. Chris should be sleeping. Eddie, trying to be as quiet as he can, rushes to kid's room. Yes. He's sleeping. Eddie kisses him on the forehead. Man, he was ready to leave him.

Ok, but where's Buck? Did he return to the loft? Eddie should maybe send him a message. He's gonna do it, just after he takes a shower.

Or not. That's a surprise.

Buck's here. In Eddie's bed to be specific. And he is awake, curled up on Eddie's pillow and silently sobbing.

"Erm.. good morning?"

Ok, now he is unexpected guest in his own house, judging by Evan's reaction.

"What the hell are you doing here? You should be in hospital!"

"You'll be surprised. But i live here. Surprise."

If this isn't the first time - that's probably why his bedsheets sometimes smell like Buck. Not that he's complaining, just observation.

"I know. I mean... You know what i mean!"

Observation two. Buck is somehow still mad.

"Not really, but let's leave it aside. If you're asking how did i get here - i took an uber. And i didn't want to wake you up, sleep. I just take my towel"

"And then you'll be back here."

No, he's not

"I'm well rested, so no, i don't want to bother your sleep. And i still have a couch if i need, you know?"

He's lying again. He lives the life full of lies.

"It wasn't a question if you missed it."

Buck is mad mad, it's so not him it is scary.

"Okay. Buck... Did you cry?"

"Doesn't matter! Just take a shower already!"

Well that was the fastest shower he has ever had and no he didn't rush. He just likes it that way. Life full of lies!

Buck is sitting in his bed teasing a pillow and waiting. And he is... He is so... You can't want to kiss your friend but can you at least hug him?

"Hi?"

"Eddie. Who do you think you are?"

That's new.

"What do you mean right now?"

Buck is... blushing?!

"Who do you think you are for me?"

He knows the answer. Kinda

"Well, i recall you saying we are best friends, so I'll go with that. What's your point?"

"... That's all?"

It's obviously not but how could he even think about telling so? How would it sound?

"I don't really get where are you going with that."

Buck exhales

"Fine. Fine. As you wish. I just..."

"Buck, stop. You just what?"

"I kinda thought... about things"

"And didn't like it? You'll get used to the process"

"Oh, shut up, Eddie! I thought about my life, you know. Without you"

The more you know, really. Eddie doesn't need to think about it. He lived it. All the time Buckley was to ICU after lightning. Plus three fucking minutes and seventeen fucking seconds he really had to live without him. He hates it. Every moment of it.

"And? Your life would be so much better that now you feel low key sorry for saving me?"

"O my god Eddie! Can you please stop it? I try to say something really important here, why do you hate me?!"

"I don't. Really. It's more the opposite. I love you"

So, he said that. It wasn't that bad! Well, but now Buckley's gonna try to say something in return, it's gonna be awkward, and that would be how he lost his best friend. Maybe he really should have died there.

Frank definitely would say that he is depressed if he really thinks that death is a valid option. Who cares!

Buck meanwhile keeps silent. And cry. Why the hell is he crying now? Is it so awful to be loved by Eddie Diaz? Well, most probably yes.

"Buck?!"

"Sorry. I'm sorry. It's fine, i just... You said that you're an awful friend but you're not. And... You love me. As a good friend should."

"Evan. I didn't say i love you as a friend, thanks for noticing. I said that I'm an awful friend cause i love you not as a friend. I love you like you are the meaning of my life love you. I'm in love with you."

"Why?"

Who knew Evan Buckley is a philosopher now?

"Cause you.. it's you, o my god, that is the silliest question i ever refused to answer!"

Buck loudly inhales, like he's gonna jump into the deep water

"You are my best friend, Edmundo. But that's the top of the iceberg. You are, basically, all my life. I love you so fucking much and yesterday you tried to kill yourself in front of me. Are you insane?"

Eddie blinks, feels...oh, he has no idea, what exactly he feels right now. Everything

"Say what now?"

"I asked, are you insane."

"Before that!"

"Keep it low. You'll wake up Chris! I said i love you. Why are you acting so strange, didn't you know that? I was sure I'm obvious"

"You're not... I did not... Hell no. So you tell me... What the hell, Buck?!"

Ok, but now you certainly can kiss your friend. It would be appropriate. And, presumably, highly appreciated. Buck looks like a stray dog right now. Like he was rejected. But he so much wasn't. He even speaks sad!

"I don't know"

"I know. And, as long as you're still in my bed - or should i start calling it our bed? - I'm gonna lie down. But first - I'm gonna kiss you. If you have something against it - speak now or hold your peace"

Now Buck's definitely blushing. It fits him. Anything fits him.

"How could i possibly decline your offer? I mean... If it is fine with you, cause i don't want you to feel like I'm pressing you, just if you want..."

Eddie definitely can't wait any longer. He's actually proud of himself that he waited for this long. And somehow disappointed, like so much time wasted. Anyway..

Is it strange to think that Evans face is perfectly fits to his palms?

Not that Diaz is very experienced in kissing boys, not that there's so much difference but there is. Or, probably, there's one major difference. It's Evan.

He feels Bucks hands clinging to his back, biting Bucks lower lip and then there's the sound. Muffled moaning, running down Eddies spine.

"Mierda, Evan!"

He's old. Well, fine, at least he's adult. Should be responsible and reasonable. What should he not certainly be doing right now is pulling Bucks shirt off, literally reaping off the buttons with his shaking fingers and yet there heis.

"Eddie... "

He's not going to stop anyway just because, to be fair, he just physically can't stop right now. And based on Buckleys reaction he should not stop. Still

"Eddie, Chris is sleeping! We need... O my god"

Hickey on the neck also fits Buck perfectly. Noted

"I closed the door and he is a heavy sleeper. I've checked"

"You... You just ran from hospital. You could die yesterday... Geez, Edds, give me that!"

Give him what? His heart, soul and everything? He gave it so long ago it's hard to remember specific day

"Your stupid t-shirt why did you ever bother to put it on?!"

***

Bobby woke up from the message. It's Chris. That's strange, something with Eddie? In that case Buck should have called first.

He looked on the screen and

"Bobby, your laugh is sweet but if you didn't notice i was sleeping, what could be so funny that..."

Athena is not a morning person, definitely, so instead of answer Bobby just shows her his phone. With a picture on the screen

"Is that... Finally!"

"That's what i said. It's been... how long? Anyway, strict conversation is waiting for them both. After."

"Of course. Do you know you act like a proud father right now? It's kinda... Spicy. Come here!"

[scary-senpai]

Headcanon: Garou gets super into Christmas decorations (mostly like 'uncanny valley' / 'so-cute-it's-actually-kinda-violent' territory).

This causes considerable distress for Saitama, who is afraid of elves.

From last year's @wanpanmas fic:

When Saitama returned home from grocery shopping, he found his front yard looking significantly different from the way he had left it.

Amidst the freshly shoveled snow (which had been falling relentlessly all week, and was expected to continue well past Christmas), an elaborate display had sprung up: half a herd of reindeer (internally illuminated by soft, white lights), a telltale sleigh, and St. Nicholas himself — a mechanical wonder which waved and bellowed out, at regular intervals, “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” with such enthusiasm that it vaguely resembled a threat.

The elves, too, frolicked menacingly amidst the snowdrifts — rather, the elves themselves weren’t frolicking, they were mere toys; their thoughtful positioning and lifelike smiles granted the illusion of movement. (At least, Saitama hoped it was an illusion. By and large, he distrusted elves.)

Saitama disliked this sudden, suspicious upwelling of Christmas spirit. He squinted at the self-propelled St. Nicholas (whom he pegged as the ringleader). St. Nicholas responded with an automated wink, and Saitama’s blood ran cold.

A suspicious amount of Christmas spirit, indeed.

Someone had cleared a path from the driveway to the front door, but this was, unfortunately, where the elves had concentrated their frolicking operations—this made Saitama’s intended route less than ideal. So unsettling were these elves that Saitama bypassed the footpath entirely, wading through the yard and around the offending Christmas frippary, even though it required an arduous trek across blankets of snow.

Saitama clutched his groceries protectively, cautiously creeping through this utter minefield of holiday cheer. But he was not nearly cautious enough — one errant footstep triggered something like a literal landmine.

“What the heck — “

A large, inflatable penguin (several heads taller than Saitama) burst forth from a snowbank, clutching an ersatz salmon and chittering wildly.

Saitama and his groceries were cornered: behind him, Santa’s sleigh blocked his escape route and the elves — oh god, the elves — were watching his every move…

The behemoth seabird tilted forward, looming menacingly over Saitama. Doing his best not to panic, he reminded himself that this was just some stupid decoration, that he was mere meters away from his front door — still, he could feel his heart pounding relentlessly. With its deranged expression and hysterical chirping, this was no mere waterfowl but a mammoth Eldritch horror — straight from the Mountains of Madness, waddling forth in search of unfortunate souls to drag back to some awful Antarctic abyss…

Saitama closed his eyes and hugged his groceries close. Extending one hand forward, he charged past the penguin with all the zeal and urgency of a quarterback charging into the end zone.

When Saitama reached the front door, it triggered the motion-activated lights strewn about the eaves and alcoves — hitherto hidden (and turned off), they now glowed bright enough for Saitama to see even through closed eyelids. The lights blinkered harshly, a dizzying blitzkrieg of reds and greens.

Saitama reached up and grabbed a handful, snapping them free of their sockets. The bulbs were dull and dead within an instant.

There could only be one explanation.

“Dammit, Garou!” Saitama cried, throwing open the front door. “These had better not be attached to Genos.”

“And what?” Garou asked. Long limbs sprawled out on the couch, he barely looked up from his newspaper. “Triple the electricity bill?”

“Oh.” Saitama stared down at the tangled wires in his fist, contemplating this. He looked up at Garou, frowning. “You’re right, actually.”

There is more on ao3

[magpiejay1234]

For Dragon Magic, we have to look at the existing cards’ Kanji:

The Kanji Ryuma is used in:

**King Dragun, and Queen Dragun Djinn, whose title is Ryumajin, Dragon Djinn.

**Dracoverlord, whose archetype name, Ryumao, Dragon Demon King, contains it.

**Keeper of Dragon Magic, whose name is a homage to the concept from the manga.

**Recent Gaia Fusion, and Gaia the Dragon Champion/Dark Magician Fusion, who both use it as a homage original Bandai card of Gaia the Dragon Champion.

...

The Inverse Kanji, Maryu (Demon Dragon) is used:

**Cards associated with Red Dragon Archfiend, and his manga versions.

**Taotie, Shadow of the Yang Zing, whose kanji title is Maryusei (Demon Dragon Star), ryusei is the Japanese archetype of Yang Zing.

**Archfiend Black Skull Dragon, who is the inspiration for Red Dragon Archfiend.

**Recent V-Jump promo Diabolica.

****

The Kanji when used in seperation is used in, in addition to those above:

**Some demonic dragons, like Dark Blade the Dragon Knight, and Wicked Dragon with the Ersatz Head.

**Dragon associated Pendulum Magicians.

**Red-Eyes Dark Dragoon, and Curse of Dragon Fusion retrain.

**Magikey Dragon - Andrabime.

(And technically, Abyss Script - Fire Dragon’s Lair. Abyss Actors use the same Kanji for Underworld, Makai, as the Dark Blade, and King of Yamimakai.)

Overwhelming majority of these cards are Dragon-Type, so if this type is introduced, it will largely cut off from Dragons, much like Wyrms did in ARC-V.

[katreal-fic]

Ersatz Abyss Update

Summary: The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled.

One day he wakes up; Dirk nowhere to be found. What’s the point in getting what you want, if you can’t show off a little?

Based on the Haltier!AU by @striding-feather

Chapter 39/?? - [Link]  

[Discord Server]

[the-ironic-monster]

Winged Equidashsprite cuz How DARE i take any iteration of Rainbow Dash’s wing away????

From Ersatz Abyss Fanfic

[dedicatedfollower467]

That’s Not You Screaming

Some fanart for the wonderful fanfic Ersatz Abyss by @katreal-fic. Tumblr obviously hates links, so unfortunately I can’t link - but if you go to her page there are quite a few links there!

This scene from Chapter 27 really struck me, and I absolutely had to draw it.

[turntechgodbeheaded]

Katreal if you posted your sona I think tumblr might have ate it 🤡 anyway in honor of me reading ersatz, @chaton-katreal @striding-feather

[lu-is-not-ok]

Draw a scene from the last fanfic you read.

He SPIIIIIIINS. 

Also go read Ersatz Abyss, it’s fucking good and I’m beta reading it.

[calware]

i'm getting my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read ersatz abyss

[solitaria-fantasma]

The Zoo, part 2!

Honk the Goose has a ‘Honk’ ability that works like the move “Roar” in Pokemon.

Literally everyone passed the save except for Koira.

While Frightened by Honk’s mighty screech, Koira tried to run and hide behind Dynamite, who was already charging at a zombie.

Nosca’s crisis is ongoing.

“It’s a strange battle-cry, but HONK it is!”

Honk can attack five goddamn times in a ROW because of how he multi-classed - imagine a regular-ass goose just wailing on a zombie for three minutes.

The zombie went down after the first hit, by the way. Honk just continued to beat on the corpse for a while.

I had Koira smack the corpse, too, once she was no longer Frightened. It was very stress-relieving.

The second zombie also went down after Dynamite’s first attack, but she kicked him again anyway, just Because.

Due to the fact that the homepage for the home-brew dog race I’m using for Koira doesn’t explicitly say she has Darkvision, she is basically blind in all this darkness, so Nosca, our Artificer, whipped her up a pair of doggy night-vision goggles from random stuff found in her pack.

Honk: *tries to blatantly steal a tool off of Nosca’s belt*

Nosca: *grabs Honk by the neck with one hand* “Don’t. Touch. The Tools.”

Honk: Honk! (apologetic)

Honk’s PC: “Oh, you want Intelligence? Oh no. I am not a smart goose. Not at all.” *rolls a four* Yeah okay so I honk back at the party.

I attempted to utilize Koira’s racial ability to roll with advantage on scent-based Perception checks….but then I rolled two 1’s in a row and had a sneezing fit, instead.

We found a secret room with a few mysterious crates, and Nosca tried to open them carefully.

She found a bag of dried mango slices, and passed them out to the party. Koira took one to hold. 

Dynamite decided this method was too slow, and smashed open the nearest crate with her axe, instead, shattering the mysterious potion inside.

Koira licked the spilled potion, as it was now on the floor and therefore Hers, and gained one extra hit point.

Honk splashed about in the puddle as well, but it had no visible effect.

“The goose found two silver and immediately ate it.”

We found more storage shelves and crates in the next hallway, and this time, Koira succeeded in her searching, and found a whole bag of mango slices. She traded her singular slice for the bag.

After another successful scent roll, Koira found a mysterious stash of herbs behind another shelf. Having no thumbs, she struck a pointing pose, and waited for someone else to move the shelf.

Nosca moved the shelf, and found the herbs. It was weed.

Koira has not spoken in-game yet, so as far as Nosca knows, she’s just a regular dog wearing a cape.

If we haven’t guessed by now, Honk is basically the Goose from Untitled Goose Game.

Honk can speak Abyssal, apparently, and ONLY Abyssal.

DM: “Koira….does a 19 hit you?”

Me: “Um…I’m going to stall for time by pretending to look at my armor class….yes. Yes it does.”

The zombie I was attacking flailed at me for two damage. Koira yelped, and the zombie looked very upset.

Honk - once again - one hit a zombie and killed it on the first hit. Dynamite watched him beat the corpse until the skin peeled off, looking utterly crest-fallen, before turning to the remaining zombie and kicking his knee backwards.

Honk’s PC: “Is it good nesting material?”

DM: “The skin???”

Honk found a dried mango slice on one of the zombies, and chased Nosca around attempting to shove it between the plates of her armor.

Dried mango slices appear to be a staple snack in this area.

Nosca found another hidden storeroom off the next hallway, and scavenged an Immovable Rod and an Ersatz Eye.

Koira found Good Chewing Bones and some actual beef jerky.

Honk successfully stole my pouch of holding while I was trying to stuff the bones into it, so Koira began chasing him around the shelves, barking loudly.

Dynamite, incensed by all the noise, tried to bonk Honk off of the shelves he landed on to shut Koira up.

All: “BONK THE HONK!”

Unsuccessful in waving her axe, Dynamite instead climbed up the shelves to kick Honk off the shelves 300 style. 

In doing so, she spilled a bunch of jars that broke and began leaking some sickly lavender scent, which shut Koira up by sending her into another sneezing fit.

Poor Nosca is just trying to Exist while her three animal cohorts are causing some Loony Toons-style chaos in this tiny, tiny storage room.

Koira only narrowly avoided getting crushed when Dynamite brought all the shelves down in her rampage, and spoke for the first time to ask if the party was okay.

Honk also survived disaster, and returned Koira’s pouch of holding as an olive branch.

Nosca took the talking dog surprisingly in stride, but when we found a keg in the next room, she ran straight for it.

“It is the tastiest grape juice you’ve ever tried.”

Nosca and Dynamite tried to get drunk, but the grape juice was barely alcoholic at all, so they gave up and we moved on to the next hallway, where we found four more zombies.

“The zombie looks at you with these big, soft eyes, as if to say “Oh my god, there’s a DOG!”…and then you growl, and its expression becomes more “oh my god there’s a DOG-“.”

It took three combat sessions and an intense stare down with the above zombie, but Koira finally rolled high enough on Perception to realize that the zombies weren’t actively trying to harm them.

The zombies kept rolling high on an ability that basically brought them back to undeath, so a planned-to-be-one-round combat encounter turned into three.

Surprisingly, the rest of the party left the non-aggressive one…uh…alive…and we re-entered the first room to go up the stairs this time.

Dynamite thumps when angry.

Koira sniffed out more potential zombies behind a door, and even though Dynamite literally kicked it down in one go, Nosca and Honk rolled the highest by far in the initiative, leaving Koira and Dynamite out in the hall.

The room we found was a small library, with two more non-hostile zombies peacefully reading inside. One of them waved at Nosca.

Koira had trouble getting into the room, as she would not put down her quarterstaff.

Dynamite leapt over Koira’s staff to get into the room and beheaded one of the zombies. When it died in one hit, she screamed in frustration, and stormed out of the room.

Koira picked a book off the shelf to read, and her god thought it was sO CUTE that their doggo paladin was reading that they let her learn the spell ‘Color Spray’.

Honk blatantly stole the romance novel out of the reading (and beheaded) zombie’s hands. The zombie’s head watched sadly from the floor as the goose walked off with his book.

The only zombie Dynamite respects in this whole damn place is the librarian, purely because she used to be the protector of an ancient library.

“Arguably, we haven’t killed anybody, since the zombies are already dead.”

Honk started pulling books off the shelf like the gremlin he is, Dynamite tried to drag him out by the neck, Koira tried to help the distressed zombie librarian picked up all the fallen books, and Nosca’s just standing there, arms full of books and rethinking her life choices.

“Feeding copper pieces to a goose until it throws up all the floor money it ate that day.”

Dynamite: “I fed Honk 20 copper pieces.”

Nosca: “You did WHAT-“

The next room we found was a sort of break room for the zombies with a bunch more crates at the back.

Nosca politely asked to look through the boxes, and Dynamite accidentally intimidated the zombies into saying ‘yes’.

Koira found a zombie with intact hands and successfully conned them into petting her, at which point, I decided that she needed to speak more and had her launch into a rant about how no-one in the party gives good pets because they think it’s ‘weird’ to pet a sentient creature, even when she asks politely.

The zombie was quite startled when the dog began to talk, but quickly resumed petting her.

Nosca, holding a Potion of Greater Healing: “Do you know what this is?”

Koira, nodding solemnly: “Liquid.”

“A dog’s gotta have some affection every now and then!”

Before the party left the room, the zombie who gave good pets gave Koira a second, smaller stick as a gift.

Honk, after walking up to the zombie and acting like he wants pets, too: “As the zombie reaches out, I throw up a coin into his hand.”

After Honk harassed an armless zombie by stealing his pen, Dynamite yanked out one of his tail feathers to replace it.

We found another room with two large shelves, and Koira found a bottle of the BLUEST water she’s ever seen that also smells like her patron and formed a face long enough to wink at her.

This could either be really, really bad or really, really cool.

Nosca found a Philter of Love on the shelves, and tried to break it by throwing it against the wall. 

It didn’t break, and Honk picked it up. 

Koira, also, has never seen this shade of light pink before, and wants the potion purely for it’s color.

Cue the to-be-continued meme music.

[claudehenrion]

De quoi Zemmour est-il le nom ?

  Encore un sujet dont j'aurais bien aimé ne pas parler... Alors que c'est encore un vrai non-candidat (et donc.. rien d'intéressant à en dire), le microcosme s'affole, la médiasphère s’exaspère et les dîners-en-ville n'arrivent pas à parler d'autre chose : même le répugnant covid passe au second plan, c'est tout dire ! Eric Zemmour, officiellement absent de la course à l’Elysée, est devenu l’Arlésienne : on ne parle que de lui. Depuis que les nuls l'ont viré de C8 pour le faire taire, il enchaîne émissions à succès, matinales et débats, et il fait les ''unes'', de Challenges à Marianne. De kiosques en affiches collées par son Fan-Club, on ne voit que lui. Mais de là à me faire écrire un ''billet''... il y a ce qui sépare l'envie du devoir !

D'un autre côté, comment ne pas parler de ce sujet hyper-brûlant ? Eric Zemmour affole les chiffres : ceux des ventes –près de 100 000 exemplaires de son dernier bouquin vendus en une courte semaine– et ceux des audiences. Même pas encore candidat à la présidentielle, Eric Zemmour est déjà le roi de l’audimat, comme il l'a démontré jeudi dernier, lors du débat tellement commenté  avec JL. Mélenchon, sur BFMTV. Cet improbable mais excellent non-dialogue ''à deux fois un'', fertile en invectives et en belles envolées de part et d’autre, a réuni, selon les heures, entre 3,8 et 4,2 millions de téléspectateurs (pdm entre 18,7 et 20 %, et d'avantage pour les moins de 50 ans : la politique peut donc intéresser les jeunes). Face à ces chiffres-record pour BFMTV, une contre-performance pour France 2 où, au même instant, Valérie Pécresse, en course pour représenter la droite à la présidentielle, débattait avec Gérald Darmanin. Ces 2 ex-stars ex-confirmées ont à peine réuni 1,05 million de téléspectateurs (un petit 5,1 % de ''pdm''). Sic transit gloria mundi !

Ce succès n’a rien d’étonnant : le ''profil'' de Zemmour secoue la France endormie, anesthésiée par cinq ans d’un macronisme délétère aggravé par le traitement de la pandémie. Il occupe la place… que trop d’hommes politiques lui ont laissée par leur inconsistance, leur silence, leur suivisme aux (mauvaises) idées du moment, et leurs contradictions permanentes. Ceux qui se plaignent de son omniprésence sont bien en peine de lui opposer quoi que ce soit, gens ou idées. Or la politique, tout comme la nature, a horreur du vide. Il y a bien quelques ectoplasmes qui essaient de croire qu’une candidature sur l’ex-espace des Républicains aurait un sens : on pense à un Michel Barnier, à une Valérie Pécresse et à son clone masculin Xavier Bertrand, et même à Eric Ciotti, plus original : tous, perdus dans le brouillard, ne survivent qu’en singeant ''l’éditorialiste-très-controversé'' (alternatives : ''polémiste, conservateur, contesté, populiste, raciste'' --Un juif raciste ! Ah ! les cons !)...

 Que Zemmour soit l'un, l'autre, ou tout à la fois, au Grand Jury RTL-LCI-Le Figaro, Xavier Bertrand n’a pu que se positionner par rapport à lui, et n’a pu imposer sa personnalité --si tant est qu'il en ait une : il réagit, il nuance, il dit qu'il refuse les ''amalgames du polémiste'' (dont ils parlent tous, sans pouvoir en citer un seul)… pour finir par faire croire qu'il se ralliait à l'idée du risque de guerre civile en France. Quant à Valérie Pécresse, elle n’en finit pas de courir après ce qu'elle croit être ''une droite'' qui n'est que suivisme et fantasmes, tout en faisant croire qu’elle ‘’se méfie de l’Europe et de l’immigration’’... C’est une nouveauté, dans son discours, qui ne réussira pas à faire oublier qu’elle a couru se mettre en avant à la fête de l’Huma mais qu’elle a refusé d’apparaître, hier, à la ‘’Journée des Conservateurs’’. Espérons que les électeurs tireront les conséquences de ce positionnement !

Du côté du Rassemblement national en revanche, les choses sont assez claires, en le devenant de moins en moins. Les interventions médiatiques des membres du Parti se succèdent, et entérinent une utilisation de plus en plus systématique de la langue de bois journalistique et de la vaine recherche d'un équilibrisme idéologique sans substance. La communication de Marine Le Pen durant ces derniers jours a été occupée par la privatisation de l’audiovisuel et la nationalisation des autoroutes ou par la maladie d’Alzheimer. De la ruralité à l'énergie, elle tire dans toutes les directions pour être sûre de cocher toutes les cases, de visiter toutes les niches. Mais sans une ''vision'' (qu'avait son Père), ces questions restent des détails de l’histoire, osé-je dire sans jeu de mots. C'est simple : aux énormes saupoudrages irresponsables à coups de millions et de milliards près, on dirait du Macron ! La campagne présidentielle n’a pas encore vraiment pris son envol, et les gens sensés frémissent d'avance devant les promesses ravageuses qui vont déferler dès qu'elle aura commencé. Pour le moment, elle piétine, cantonnée dans les limites étroites de la médiocrité des candidats déclarés qui ne rêvent que de se construire un ersatz de destinée et de gloriole, sur le dos de la France et des français. Il est temps de reprendre de la hauteur, et Eric Zemmour l’a compris. C’est pour cela sans doute qu’il suscite un tel engouement, provoque un tel rejet (pas des mêmes) et est menacé de mort.  Pour cela et parce qu'il a déjà gagné une bataille, pour le moment : c'est lui et lui seul qui fixe les agendas et qui dit de quoi on va parler (fut-ce pour que ses adversaires de Gauche, étonnés que quelqu'un ose dire leur quatre vérités... après des décennies où on les a laissé dérouler le tapis rouge-sang de leur nullité, de leur prétention et de leurs idées perverses, se déchaînent contre ce perturbateur qui ose dire ''il existe une Droite qui n'est pas ''de Gauche'' !

Quant au microcosme médiatique, il ne sait que réagir stupidement, en contrant avec des chiffres pipés et l'aide d'Hervé Lebras (c'est tout dire !) chaque affirmation de Zemmour, comme ils ont pris la très mauvaise habitude, pendant la crise dite ''du covid'', de raconter n'importe quel bobard en le présentant comme scientifique, puisque contre-signé par des prébendiers dont la crédibilité a disparu depuis longtemps. On peut dire : chapitre ''contre-productivité, difficile de tomber plus bas. Car si on sait depuis Renan que toute grande nation est un mélange de races, on sait aussi que l’unité d’une nation repose sur un ensemble d’éléments mis en commun : une histoire, des mœurs, une culture... et une religion dominante (c'est même la seule définition d'une civilisation !)... et la volonté de les perpétuer.... 

C'est tout ça, dans le fond, qu'on reproche à Zemmour, en parlant d'autres choses hors-sujet (sa manière d'être, ou de dire, ou de taire, etc...). Quand on les pousse dans leurs retranchements, les sophistes fabriquent des ''distinguos'' farfelus entre l’est de l’Europe, où c'est la nation qui aurait créé l’État, et l’ouest de l’Europe, et surtout la France, où c’est l’État qui a fondé la nation : les vingt rois qui ont fait la France, puis la République, ont ''accouché'' d’un peuple de citoyens. Ces raccourcis manichéens mériteraient d’être nuancés, mais ils ne sont pas faux sur le dernier point. C’est précisément là et pour ça que la France se trouve en grand danger.

Depuis une quarantaine d’années, la communauté de citoyens se désagrège au profit (?) d'une ''société des individus'' qui ne veulent connaître et reconnaître que leurs droits, et aucun devoir. Ils ne voient l’État que comme un distributeur de services et de lois pour satisfaire leurs moindres caprices d'individus sans racines et sans histoire, qui se rêvent ''citoyens du monde'' détachés de tout ancrage national. Ils ne connaissent ni territoire ni peuple, ils se côtoient sans se fondre dans un ensemble unifié et cohérent, et ils ont le culot d'appeler ''république'' une juxtaposition d'individus qui n’a rien à voir avec la République des citoyens. C’est dans ce vide abyssal que sont venues se loger des diasporas islamiques de plus en plus nombreuses, liées par les notions archaïques de famille, de clan, de religion, et qui importent ces archaïsmes au sein d’une postmodernité aveugle qui veut ne voir en eux que des individus isolés. Les plus habiles représentants de ces diasporas ont bien compris l’usage qu’ils pouvaient faire de notre libéralisme pour dynamiter les restes de l’État-nation et de la République, s’émanciper de feu-leur tutelle, et imposer dans des enclaves devenues étrangères sur notre sol, la ‘’Charia’a’’.

''Zemmour'', en fin de compte, pourrait n’être que le nom d'une manière de voir et de prévoir le futur qui ne tient aucun compte des mensonges mille fois répétés, ressassés jusqu'à nous rendre aveugles, sourds... et même muets (de lassitude) devant une menace démographique et civilisationnelle qui est assez probable pour qu'on ne passe pas à côté d'elle sans la voir, et sur qui devrait concentrer toute notre attention... même si --ce que j'admets volontiers-- le pire n'est jamais la seule issue (les myopes-par-système appellent cette métonymie synecdotique : ''un amalgame'', ce qu'elle n'est pas.). On en reparle bientôt : on n’y échappera pas ! 

H-Cl.