noonesnothing

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[isjasz]

[Day 136]

Greyout

[ruporas]

special operatives (silly interaction beneath read more)

[ID: Digital Art in color of Trigun Maximum, characters included are Wolfwood, Elendira, and Legato in a casual meeting situation. The piece consists of orangey yellow lighting and purple shadows. Wolfwood sits on the left side, facing Elendira who’s on the right. He’s seated on a plain wooden chair with one knee up and he’s holding the strap to his Punisher in his left hand while his right sits against his thigh, He has an irritated expression as he speaks to Elendira. Elendira is sitting in a fancier seat, her right arm rests against Wolfwood’s propped up knee, her left hand holds her suitcase. She’s sitting cross legged with an amused expression. Legato can be seen in the back at the center of the image in his mobile body case, one of his eyes shown to be glaring at Wolfwood. End ID]

[ID: Sketch, uncolored comic. Elendira says to Wolfwood, “I’m not telling you to dedicate yourself to him, but just accept the situation at hand. We could get along better if we were on the same page.” Wolfwood responds, “Don’t peg me me for an optimist. I’m not dumb. But, I’m also not going to just live in resignation. Plus, I don’t have any interest in getting along with ya.” Elendira coos, “Aw, you sure? I have a wonderful shoulder to cry on when the weak people you’re trying to protect eventually dies in the coming months. Though, I guess it’s fine. Someone like you might just die before then anyway...” She snickers in her hand while Wolfwood is speechless and just glares. Legato is faintly drawn in the back, glaring at Wolfwood, muttering “worthless” repetitively. End ID]

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[treasureplcnet]

bunch of bg3 sketches :)

[discordiansamba]

back on my mer zuko au bullshit again. local fire prince just straight up doesn't go anywhere if there's not an ocean-linked body of water nearby even after he gets the ability to get legs again. when he's fire lord he mostly travels by druk because there's a difference between "why is the fire prince's hair always damp" vs "why is the fire lord's hair always damp".

(also because it's harder to have a member of the gaang be on 'bring zuko his clothes' duty as they get older. it's sokka a disproportionate amount of time.)

[runawaycatwalker]

Part 29. Jumping to Convictions

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Description below the cut

A swarm of magical ladybugs sweeps over Carapace’s body and unpetrifies him

A close-up of Carapace’s hands as he falls to the ground and lets out a ‘gasp!’

A close-up of Carapace’s eyes, dripping with tears.

Carapace: Adrien...?

Cut to a frazzled Rena Furtive, gripping her flute as her mind races.  Carapace lands on the roof behind her.

Rena Furtive: Is there any other plausible explanation for... that?  Was I just seeing things?  Could there have been some sort of doppelganger...?  Maybe Chat's been in hiding at Adrien's and borrowed the ring...?  Can I let myself believe he actually pulled off that insane plan to replace himself without anyone knowing...?

Carapace: Rena?

Rena jerks as she turns to see Carapace approach her with hand outstretched.

Rena Furtive: Carapace!  What—

Carapace: Did anyone come near me after I got hit by the akuma?

Rena Furtive: I don't know?  Not for sure.  After you fell to the ground, I couldn't really see you, and then the last few minutes of the battle were... distracting.

Carapace covers his mouth, eyes widening in horrified comprehension.

Rena Furtive: So the only one I saw remotely near you was Catwalker.  I think he stayed there a couple minutes before going after the akuma?

Carapace: Then that means...

Carapace pleads with clenched fists in front of him.

Carapace: I think we've been entirely wrong about Catwalker.  Rena, I heard... I don't think I'm even allowed to say what.  And maybe it was a trick, or a side effect of the akuma, or whatever, but...  I believe Catwalker is completely on our side.  I really do.

Carapace, with sad puppy dog eyes, gives a ‘nod’.  Rena looks down at her flute as it lets out a loud ‘BEEP!’

Rena Furtive: You really think we can fully trust him?  Then— Sorry, I'm getting a call from Ladybug.  I need to take this.

A holographic screen pops up from Rena’s flute, on which Cosmobug’s angry face appears.

Rena Furtive: Hey, La—

Cosmobug (over phone): I AM GOING TO MURDER CATWALKER IN HIS SLEEP!

Rena Furtive: Back up.  What happened?

Cosmobug (over phone): The Lucky Charm worked! It led me to Adrien!

Rena Furtive: Isn't that good news?

Cosmobug (over phone): It was until I turned my back for one minute and he vanished all over again!

Rena Furtive bewilderedly watches the screen as Cosmobug goes on a tirade.  Behind her, Carapace trembles as he puts everything into forcing down the immense urge to open his big mouth.

Cosmobug (over phone): And immediately afterward, I see that Catwalker used a space power up to follow me here!  I just know he hid Adrien away somewhere to keep me from helping him!

Cosmobug fumes and clenches her yo-yo hard enough that if it wasn’t magical, it would have broken into tiny pieces.

Cosmobug: This has to be the final straw!  Catwalker is officially the most malignant person I've ever met!  (Besides Shadowmoth!)  (And Gabriel Agreste!)  (And Mayu—!)

Rena Furtive (over phone): Ladybug!  Listen...

Rena holds out her hand and glances behind her shoulder.

Rena Furtive: I was just talking to our informant.  They now believe that Catwalker is actually safe for us to trust.

Cosmobug (over phone): You can't be serious.

Rena Furtive: Completely serious.

Carapace silently looks away, his hood hiding the expression on his face.

Cosmobug (over phone): This is still the same person who couldn't stand Catwalker, right?  What could have possibly changed their mind?

Rena Furtive: I'm not sure.  They didn't think they could tell me their reasons.

Cosmobug (over phone): If they're telling you that, then they were probably blackmailed into claiming Catwalker's all sunshine and roses, so we can't trust—

Rena Furtive: I saw something too.

Rena looks out towards the city from atop the roof.

Rena Furtive: I don't think it was the same thing my informant heard.  And maybe I can't quite rule out the possibility that Catwalker tried to bamboozle us both while we believed he didn't know we were observing him.  But if even part of what we witnessed was real?  Catwalker is a far better person than any of us have given him credit for.

Rena holds up a finger thoughtfully.  In the background, Carapace looks on in bewildered ‘???’, an expression that reads ‘What on earth do you know about my best friend that I don’t???’

Cosmobug (over phone): Is this about his secret identity?  Did you recognize his face after seeing him detransform?

Rena Furtive: No, nothing like that.  I don't have a clue what his real name is.  But... I think I know a... pseudonym he used in the Ladyblog community at one point?

Cosmobug pokes toward her yo-yo screen, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Cosmobug: Just because he acts one way online, that doesn't mean it's who he really is.

Rena Furtive (over phone): You trust Chat Noir despite knowing nothing about the life he lives outside of the mask.

Cosmobug: That's different.

Rena Furtive (over phone): It's close enough.

Rena Furtive (over phone): Close enough that I think you should give him another chance.

Cosmobug looks away, biting her thumb nervously.

Cosmobug: I don't know... there are so many unknowns... I don't think I can work with Catwalker if I have any lingering doubts about him.  It's not that I don't trust you, it's just hard to trust at all.  This all was so much easier when it was just me and Chat, and I never had to question him on anything.  I just knew.

Rena Furtive (over phone): Then talk to him.

Rena looks at her screen with optimism and encouragement.

Cosmobug (over phone): What???  I can't just 'talk to' Chat Noir!

Rena Furtive: Sure you can!  You could meet up with Chat Noir in secret!  You always do better when you have his support, so why not let him support you?  He might even have answers!

Cosmobug (over phone): But I don't have a clue where he is or how to contact him!

Rena Furtive: Didn't Catwalker tell you that he could bring Chat Noir back safely?

Cosmobug (over phone): That doesn't mean I believed him!

Rena Furtive: If anything, we've proven that Catwalker can do things without anyone noticing.

Cosmobug (over phone): Mayura noticing isn't the problem—it's Catwalker.  What he'll do to Chat Noir without anyone knowing...

Rena smiles and waves away any doubts.

Rena Furtive: I'm not saying you have to trust Catwalker without taking any precautions.  I'll stake it all out and make sure everything's safe and that no one intervenes!  All you'd need to do is make sure that the Chat Noir who shows up isn't his evil twin or something!

Cosmobug looks away in thought.

Rena Furtive (over phone): I know it seems risky, but it's worth the risk, Ladybug.  You need to see the boy who used to be your partner again.  And I'd bet anything that Chat needs to talk to you too.

Cut to Cosmobug flying towards the Eiffel Tower, from the top of a long, thin, silver rod protrudes out to the side.  At the end the rod is a black, gray, and green blob.

Catwalker is lies on the end of his baton, his belt tying his body to the rod with his arms bound behind his back.  Cosmobug hovers a few feet away from him.

Catwalker: You didn't find Adrien, I take it?

Cosmobug: No.

Catwalker: I'm sorry.  Can we talk?

Cosmobug: No.

Catwalker looks up towards her uneasily.

Catwalker: Have you decided what you're going to do with me?

Cosmobug: Send Chat Noir back.

Cosmobug, eyes shrouded, makes her demand.

Cosmobug: Midnight tonight, on the rooftop where I first told him I had feelings for another boy.  I need to talk to him in private before I decide your fate.  He'll come alone.  Tell him to not be seen.

Catwalker’s eyes shine as he tries to contain his excitement.

Catwalker: Of course.  He'll be there.

Below is the same image as above, only without text:

[marumicore]

Producer 08 by Dedf1sh (©℗ 2013 goodlooking)

[murdleandmarot]

Gets bored. Posts old tugger design. You know how it is

[winepresswrath]

Armand's simpering little "and I never have" has taken on new dimensions for me. Technicality king and also I think very in keeping with his whole malign fairy creature deal. You can tell him not to hurt the bae, but you should really specify what "hurt" entails. Is chopping someone's hands off really hurting them? If they have annoyed you very much I mean.

-questions Armand might pose to Lestat that inspire him to leave the country

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment

[regicidal-defenestration]

The language part (ie the Main Actual Game) of Chants of Sennaar is very fun don't get me wrong - figuring out when a radical means person, or signifies a verb, etc etc - but the number system is absolutely fascinating

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hey so uh about your boyfriend. yeah i accidentally whumped him too hard and he regenerated. sorry

[daylighteclipsed]

Remember how ReCoded just casually drops the fact that this is a “true memory” from the heart of Destiny Islands even though we literally see Riku get swallowed up by darkness in KH1, we watch it happen with Sora before the islands get totally wrecked like this, so how could Riku also leave through this portal afterwards

[waddles-ex-machina]

also hey what the HELL is this place and - is that David and his shovel

[inamindfarfaraway]

How Hermes talks about Luke to others: (the most adoring, protective, forgiving father you've ever met, full of praise and admiration, refuses to give up on him no matter what crimes he commits, defends him to the heroes and begs them to show him mercy, utterly crushed by regret for his own failures)

How Hermes talks to Luke: