#seafarers not the anime

[currentlylostinpoliclinico]

The stupidest group costume in the history of group costumes

[the-corvid-doctor]

"A Scout a day keeps the stress away!!"

- me whenever schoolwork....,,,

[trenchcoat-gecko]

I’m generally not a fan of live action remakes but i just finished the One Piece netflix show and it slaps

[astragatwo]

Limbus slugcats I did between uni work and owed art! Partially inspired by ari-zonia's Limbus slugcats I saw a while ago, but I also wanted to do my own take on em! Also includes iterator Dante for funsies.

I had clearer ideas for some of them than others, struggled to think of something for Hong Lu & Meursault but instantly knew what I wanted to do for Don Quixote and Sinclair. It was fun to figure out though!

All of the info/etc assumes:

All hard-mode spawns

Ascension is the goal of the campaign

Definitely not balanced, I just like numbers

Text transcription under the cut in case it's hard to read! Fair warning that it does get pretty long.

Yi Sang - The Researcher

Frail

0.8 spear damage

1.4 speed

Can craft pearls (does not contain data)

Survivor diet

Double jump at Karma 5+

Faust - The Scientist

Survivor stats

Survivor diet

Can read pearls

Can craft items

Amount of craftable things depends on # of pearls catalogued

Pearls must contain data

Has a self-made scanning drone

Don Quixote - The Valiant

2 spear damage, longer cooldown

Slide inflicts 0.6 damage

Can become stuck in walls

1.7 run speed

1.3 tunnel/pole speed

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Can maul

Ryoshu - The Artist

Special spear deals 2 damage

Reg. spear damage 1.2

Can eat grenades/cherrybombs

Otherwise, hunter diet

1.2 run speed

Cannot hibernate w/o her spear

Lost spear = game over

Increased stealth/quiet

Can maul

Meursault - The Steadfast

bulky, can tank 1-2 fatal hits

1.7 spear damage

0.8 run speed

slide deals 0.4 dmg

heavy

bodies worth 1/2 pips

Hong Lu - The Sheltered

Hunter stats

Increased chance of pearl and special spear spawns

Better swimmer + slightly extended breath timer

Survivor diet

Glows faintly (not as strongas neuron glow)

Heathcliff - The Ruffian

1.1 spear damage

Rubble deals 0.8 damage

Can throw small animals for varying amounts of damage depending on size

1.2 run speed

Hunter diet

Can maul

Can survive 1 fatal hit

Ishmael - The Seafarer

Greatly extended breath timer

Better swimmer

1.2 run speed

Otherwise survivor stats

Cold resistance, but temporarily loses resistance coming out of water however

Can craft few items (ex. 2 rubble = 1-time-use spear)

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Rodion - The Gambler

High cold resistance

Starts with slightly raised global reputation

Pearls can be eaten for a random (+), (-), (=) effect

Pearls worth 1/4 of a pip

1.2 spear damage

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Sinclair - The Apprentice

Stats alter based on karma level

Lower karma = higher stats

Higher karma = lower stats

Speed never goes lower than 1.2

Survivor diet

0.6-2 spear damage

1.2-1.7 run speed

Can maul at ≤3 karma

Quieter when crouching

Light bodyweight

Outis - The Commander

1.4 spear damage

Otherwise hunter stats

Hunter diet

Global rep more sensitive to change

befriended scavs more aggressive when threat is present

Can craft few items (ex. lantern, flashbang, 1-time use spear, etc)

Gregor - The Cermin

Survivor stats

Has slugpup companion

Can be used as a diversion

Slugpup cannot die

Can shock animals at cost of 1 pip

Used to stun, strength of infant centipede

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Can eat most things

Can survive 1 fatal hit

Dante - Twelve Chains That Bind

Cannot raise karma

Not super functional

Slugcats can bring other sinner corpses to their chamber to be revived

[writingficsanddaydreams]

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him? 

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him. 

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

[pkmnprofloblolly]

Hello! Trainer from Alola here, big fan of your work. I was wondering; is there any evidence of any legendary pokemon being related to other pokemon? For example, does Rayquaza share any DNA with other dragon pokemon? (I know it would be extremely difficult to get any rayquaza DNA fhshfjd) Or are pokemon like that entirely their own species?

the answer is, as with many things on this blog.. it depends!

"legendary pokemon" aren't really a cohesive category like, say, a type or a taxonomic group. the only common factors are that they tend to be very rare and that they have legends about them. as our examples, let's use two groups of hoenn legendary pokemon: latios and latias, and groudon, kyogre, and rayquaza.

latios and latias (like other pairs such as nidoqueen and nidoking, or volbeat and illumise, latios and latias are sexually dimorphic members of the same species) are indeed related to other pokemon- they're birds! specifically, they're in the auk family, which are a group of generally stout, seafaring birds like guillemots and puffins. this may seem strange- the latis appear to have wings and arms, and no legs, very unlike birds. however, if we take a look at their skeleton, the connection becomes much more obvious:

what we generally interpret as arms are actually the lati's legs, the thighs of which are obscured by flesh and feathers. while they use their wings to steer and for some lift, the latis generally stay aloft with their psychic powers rather than traditional flight, which is why they can hover in place. this has freed up their legs for use in manipulating objects, and they are rarely seen standing on their feet. because they mostly rely on hovering, their legs no longer have the strength to hold their large bodies up for very long.

these pokemon are indeed exceptionally rare, having very low population numbers in only a few regions, and spending most of their time over open ocean. like many pelagic seabirds, they breed on only a few small islands, like alto mare off the johto region and southern island off hoenn's south coast. their populations are on the upswing, though, in large part due to concentrated conservation efforts on those islands. point being, though, they are indeed just animals. rare, powerful animals, but animals nonetheless.

many legendary pokemon fall into this camp. articuno, zapdos, and moltres, lugia and ho-oh, heatran, and various others.

.

conversely, the so-called weather trio of hoenn: groudon, kyogre, and rayquaza. these three are even more rarely seen than the latis, only having been sighted in recent times during their clash in hoenn nearly two decades ago. despite the three's resemblance to other living pokemon, as far as we know they are entirely unrelated to any known animals, or even any other life on earth.

this is known because evidence of these pokemon have been found dating back over 3 billion years ago, that is to say over a billion years before multicellular life even existed. gigantic fragments of footprints attributed to groudon have been sighted alongside some of the earliest fossils we know of of early bacteria. modern physical samples from these pokemon- the extremely few that have ever been recovered- have never resulted in any dna evidence, and appear in structure much more similar to inorganic matter.

as it stands, it appears these pokemon arose some time early (relatively speaking) after the earth formed, being (as opposed to natural living organisms) animate representations of the forces of nature themselves. a similar condition is often assumed for some other grandiose legendary pokemon, such as dialga and palkia, though much less tangible evidence exists for their presence in prehistoric time, so this is mostly an assumption based on their infrequent appearances & legends surrounding their origins.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just finished your two Minotaur!Konig fics and I just want to say you wrote those brilliantly, that has to be one of my favorite Konig AUs now! I loved seeing Ariadne!reader try to put up her walls around this monster she's been taught to fear, only for him to break down those walls not because of how powerful he is (although he clearly has strength and animal-like senses in spades) but because of how genuine he is and the tenderness of his heart ❤️. I hope he's able to take her far away the way she dreamed Theseus would be able to (although idk if the whole kingslaying/kinslaying curse thing would hinder that). Also she should definitely give him a little shave cuz I feel like he'd be gorgeous under all that uncombed/unwashed/uncut hair 🔥🔥🔥

Thanks for all of the amazing stories! Sending a virtual hug your way 🤗

Aww thank you!!! You know, I meant to write a tragic romance for these two but couldn't 🥺 (+ I guess I would now be in jail if I had done that lol)

So in my mind, they actually bathe & cuddlefuck for three days before boarding a ship that takes them to some distant Southern shores ❤️ Reader becomes an excellent weaver and local healer over the years whereas König starts to work in the docks. Seafaring gives him the opportunity to see the world and enjoy the sun & use his muscles for something else than just killing (although he does that too if someone threatens the merchants or their cargo)

The only downside is that he's very reluctant to part with his lover and wife, who is frankly quite relieved that this giant goes out to explore the world for a few months per year... That way she can have at least some respite from the constant, heated attentions of this man 🙄 She can't get any weaving done when he's around, demanding love and affection like a child! He knows she can't refuse him and still, he uses that adoring stare to make her lift her hem when she should be working...

& yes he looks absolutely gorgeous when trimmed, combed and shaved, she makes sure he doesn't squirm when getting treated by promising him she shows him a new mating position if he stays still (he barely breathes until it's done). Also imagine this Bull getting a nice bronze tint on those muscles when he gets to stay in the sun all day... He becomes annoyingly proud when he notices the effect he has on his little lady :)

[fatallyfalling]

Bitter Water 0.01 ~ ♆

“ Survive, “

{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}

{{ previous part || next part }} {{ masterlist }}

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, insinuation of forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, Finnick is a bit of an ass, thoughts/mention of death, slight food aversion, reader has a panic attack, etc.

{{ word count }} 3.1 k

{{ prompt }} Following the 67th Reaping and a tearful goodbye you board a train to the capital. There’s new faces, new rules, but you only feel more like a caged animal being hauled to slaughter.

{{ a/n }} Finnick appears at last! Granted he is a bit of an ass - but he’s a teenage boy with newfound wealth and arrogance at this point in time and Reader is understandably prickly as well considering the circumstances. This chapter is a bit longer than the prologue - enjoy!!

You weren’t sure when your ears had started ringing.

Maybe it was from the throb at your temple, or the lightning strike of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You didn't know. A wet warmth slid down the side of your face, more blood. Cold metal pressed between your shoulder blades, begrudgingly forcing your body towards the stage. The wails of your siblings above had been quickly stifled. Your father must be trying to avoid more trouble. “Good,” You thought.

“Keep them safe.”

Your jaw set as you shakily ascended the three stairs of the stone platform. The Capital escort held a too-wide, plastic smile that had your stomach twisting. People shouldn’t smile like that. The escort puts out a hand, but you don’t make any effort to reach out, invoking an irritated scoff and a forceful twist of your wrist above your head as if you had won something. You didn’t feel like you’d gained anything at all.

“Our female Tribute!”

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as the horror continued, not quite setting in. Your hand is dropped after a mechanical camera flash temporarily obscures your vision. You don’t notice the disgust on the escort's face as they notice the blood now coating the palm of their expensive glove. Your gaze had moved to stare down at the concrete before you. You didn’t dare look up as a Capital camera flashed again, making you flinch with a scrunch of your nose.

“Now, we’ll select our male Tribute.”

The escort plucks a handkerchief from their breast pocket to wipe their glove. The pale fabric stains red as they move to the pristine crystal bowl on the left side of the stage. Your eyebrows knit together as you see the gesture from your peripheral, thinking it would have been easier to remove the glove.

But the Capital doesn’t touch district hands without protection.

Another show is made of swimming their fingers through the slips of paper, and a dramatic selection brings the stocky-built escort back to center stage once more. The phlegmy cough of the escort earns another scrunch from your nose. “Ahem,” Their voice has a slight gravel in their drawl. Blood smears on the white paper as the identical black seal is peeled away and unfolded to present the name. Your stomach twists again.

A boy’s name is called. You don’t know him. He must be from one of the southern ports by the looks of his tanned skin. The large auditorium remains silent as the Reaping is concluded. The two tributes are presented once more to the population of the seafaring district. Automated cameras snap pictures in bright flashes. You can’t help wishing one of those flashes was a gun.

The barrel of a Peacekeeper’s gun presses behind you once more as you’re turned away from the audience and led off the stage to be paraded down the center aisle as if you were a prize-winning salmon. You wanted to scream.

The heavy double doors of the hall slam shut behind your small procession, earning another flinch and your eyes to squeeze shut. This was happening.

This was happening and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You're aggressively pushed and prodded down another series of hallways before being led into what appears to be an office and left to your own devices. A muffled shuffling outside the closed door indicates you've been confined to the room with Peacekeepers just outside. The office was professional in appearance. Large mahogany bookcases lined one of the pale blue walls, and a large, matching wooden desk posed in the center of the space with an inky leather chair behind it. There was an array of potted, district-native plants and a miscellaneous collection of knick-knacks and other capital paraphernalia. Two deep blue velvet loveseats sat against the opposite wall with intricate wood trimmings on the polished hardwood floor. Lastly, on the wall parallel to the bookshelves, hung a large portrait painting of the President of Panem.

Coriolanus Snow.

It felt like the wind was sucked from your lungs as your flightless eyes held the tyrant's stare of icy blue. Clenching your jaw, it was all you could do not to lash out and scream at the canvas. You debated tearing it from the wall and shredding the intricate brushwork, but you had no idea who was watching or if the consequences would be deterred on your family once you left. You hated the snowy-haired man. Every fiber of your being burned with a bitter hatred, but that hatred quickly died as the reality of your situation once more weighed heavy on your conscience. You had no clue how you were going to survive. Your mind began to reel with "What ifs" surrounding your fate.

Tears began rolling down your cheeks like clockwork as reality finally set in.

Furiously, you smeared the salty liquid from your eyes with the back of your hands. Silently cursing yourself for cracking like this. You had to stay strong. You wouldn’t dare cry in front of the younglings. You couldn’t bear the thought. Inhaling deeply, you tried to ground yourself. There wasn’t any room to crumble. You just had to get through this one goodbye.

Goodbye.

The idea of farewell brought more tears surging from your eyes. A choked sob racked through your chest as your face fell into your bloody hands. The marks from your fingernails had clotted by now, irritating your tear-streaked skin. How would you ever get through this? You couldn’t die. You couldn’t abandon your life here for the twisted pleasures of the Capital.

“You have three minutes.”

Surprise punches through your senses, bloody hands leaving your face as the office door opens and a Peacekeeper barks just as two heads of matching hair break into the room making a beeline for your legs. You crouch to meet the younglings, hugging the bleary-eyed twins close. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” you coo as the twins spew questions in quick succession to one another. Your father loomed in front of the door, his eyes had a faraway gaze. You spared a troubled glance his way while trying to soothe your siblings.

“Why are they taking you away?”

The nickname you’d had since the pair learned to speak came out in a choked sob. It broke your heart to witness them so distraught and upset, petting their hair and holding the boys close. “I-I just have to go away for a while. I know. I-I know, I said only a few minutes, but it’s going to be longer than that now.” you stumble over your words as you try to keep yourself together. You couldn't crack in front of them, not like this. Your heart squeezes to the point you feel suffocated as you lie through your teeth. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

There was no way for you to keep that promise in the end. It was a foolish idea, really.

Nobody ever really came back from the Games.

“I’ll bring home the seaweed buns you both like, okay? The ones shaped like little fish.” You try to reassure them while simultaneously wiping the toddler’s eyes. The pair sniffle but allow small nods as you look into one another’s eyes. “You two need to look out for one another while I’m gone, okay? Take care of Dad as well. Promise me that, okay?” You let go of the boys and hold out your pinkie fingers, each twin lacing their own with yours and giving a tight squeeze.

“Pinky promise,”

“Good,” you nod, mustering a weak smile and kissing each of their foreheads before rising to meet your father by the door. “They can’t be neglected. Teach them to help or ask Marjorie to teach them to weave. I- I know things are going to be hard without me, but you’ll manage. Ask for help if it’s needed. There should be some money in a jar behind my dresser that I saved in case this happened. Utilize the underground trade a-and-“

Your rushed instructions are cut short as the office door opens once more. Your broken heart lurches into your throat as the guard tells you your time is up. The air feels like it’s been ripped from your lungs all over again as you startle forward and cling to your father. His good arm wraps around your shoulders, and the younglings wrap themselves around the both of you. You almost don’t catch the gruff whisper through your father’s whiskers.

“Survive..”

A cold encapsulates your form as stark white Peacekeepers move to tear your family from your embrace. The twins shriek, calling out for you as they’re all but dragged from the room. You call back for them in an equally broken sob. A Peacekeeper barricades the doorway of the office with their body. Your father’s words hang in the air like lead, an order in the form of a match to strike the inferno of that bitter promise you’d made during the reaping.

You will not die.

No more tears spill as Peacekeepers surround you once more. The extra security is a tad, daunting, if not oversaturated, as you’re led away from the judicial complex through a dimly lit garage. You’re loaded into a steel armored vehicle with your District Partner and two guards to ensure nothing gets prickly on the trip to the train station.

The ride couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, albeit bumpy on the cobblestone roads. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the glaring sunlight after only being in dimly lit spaces following the Reaping. The thrum in your temple has gotten exponentially worse thanks to the hydration in your body escaping through tears. The cold metal barrel of a Peacekeeper’s gun meets your shoulder blades as you hop down from the armored truck and are pushed towards the sleek grey metal locomotive destined for the capital. The short escort from the Reaping is there, providing a stiff wave as the two Tributes of District 4 get close.

“Welcome, welcome! My name is Thatcher Bellstone, and I shall be accompanying you both to our glorious capital and help prepare you to take your first steps into the arena!”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, settling with a flutter of muscle in your jaw instead. You already weren't taking kindly to them.

“Now, we’re on a very, very tight schedule. Some faces need introducing!” Thatcher claims with a clap of their gloved hands. The fabric is a different color now, most likely swapped post-reaping to cleanse the Capital elite of your blood. If their accent and tone weren’t so snobby or irritating, you might have felt a tinge of guilt for the soiled garment. Regardless of your qualms, you’re shoved forward to the edge of the train platform and almost trip before catching yourself on a small railing over the threshold of the sliding door.

A silent curse crosses your mind as a coy chuckle fills your senses. Your brows knit together in aggravation as your gaze drags up to lock on sea-green irises. The last thing you needed on top of everything was humiliation.

“Careful now~ being clumsy won’t save you in the arena,”

The bronze-haired boy’s voice is all but a cocky purr. A cheshire smirk is plastered on his face sending your blood boiling as you straighten up with a huff. “I can handle myself just fine.” You quip, smoothing the hiked fabric in your clothes and swiftly crossing paths to get away from the victor.

Finnick Odair. Capital’s Darling, Golden Boy of District 4, youngest victor in the history of the Games, and whatever else the upper class decided to call him depending on the day.

You knew vague intel on who the 65th victor of the Hunger Games was. Finnick hailed from one of the southern ports much like your District Partner and had earned his fame and glory by using handmade nets and a trident gifted by a generous (more like bloodthirsty) sponsor to snare other Tributes and take them out. But other than what you witnessed during the mandatory viewing of the Games, you only saw an egotistical Peacock flaunting his wealth earned in the blood of children.

You didn’t bother with more conversational pleasantries as you found yourself in what seemed to be a dining car. The train car looked more like a luxurious house than a mode of transportation, in your opinion. Everything in the space was ornate. Deeply curved royal blue velvet chairs, dark wooden accents, side tables, and more. Crystal wine glasses and fine cutlery donned an ivory silk-covered dining table. The extravagance of just a simple train car made you uneasy. If this was a train, how ostentatious was the rest of the Capital?

“Come, come, let us be seated.” Thatcher piped up to break the tension, clapping their hands again. You share a fleeting, awkward glance with your fellow Tribute before hesitantly moving towards the long dining table. Every plate had a name card. You would have found them holding the knowledge of your name a bit creepy if it was any other occasion. This was the Capital of Panem. You found your place on the left side of the table next to the head chair where an older woman whose card read “Mags” was already sitting. You felt the anxious tremble in your fingertips returning as everyone was seated. Much to your dismay, Finnick slid into the seat across from you, his cheshire smirk only widening. Your pointed glare in his direction grew more menacing in return.

You didn’t appreciate the boy’s demeanor. Or his showboating attitude. Apparently neither did the older woman beside you, Mags, who gave the victor a small thwack to his shoulder with a pointed look, and Finnick sheepishly dropped his gaze, murmuring a sincere apology to the mentor.

“Interesting,” you thought, your eyes dancing between the pair before Thatcher offered a signature phlegmy cough, and your attention was averted toward the other end of the table. Your District Partner sat alongside you, with whom you assumed to be his mentor at the other head of the long table. Thatcher sat on Finnick’s right.

“There is much to be discussed before we arrive in the Capital tomorrow evening. Let’s try to get there all in one piece.” Thatcher explained, glancing your way about your trip earlier at the last part. You simply avert your eyes down to the plate before you. There was a fair amount of steaming food, some of which you’d only read about. There was a piece of grilled fish with what smelled like a citrus glaze, a small bed of rice, fragrant roasted asparagus with a delectable seasoning mixture, and a small bowl of seasonal fruit to the side. You weren’t sure how to approach the plate, let alone if you could stomach finishing it.

Thatcher soon launched into an extended spiel about manners, expectations, and rules while on the train, off the train, entering the Capital, etc. You didn’t understand why there were so many rules, nor why it mattered how you sit or stand or breathe, as a matter of fact. You felt like an animal snared in a net to be hauled off to slaughter. Your mind started to feel like mush as you only pushed bits of food around your plate. You hadn’t taken a single bite. Meanwhile, everyone else had practically finished eating. It was hard to absorb any of the escort’s blabbering. The anxiety crushing your chest started to become unbearable as your gaze turned to tunnels that bore into your plate. The food suddenly appeared very unappetizing. Honestly, you were beginning to feel a bit sick.

“I-I need to be excused..”

You’re barely able to utter the words as the acidic taste of bile starts to rise in your throat again. Abruptly standing, you all but run from the dining table and through a door to the connecting cars. You didn’t stay long enough to catch the annoyed scoff that left Thatcher’s glossed lips or the crease that appeared between Finnick’s brows as he shared a look of mild concern with Mags. You didn’t know where you were going, let alone where your personal room was, but you knew you had to get away from the sick “normalcy” of that table.

A hand claps to cover your mouth as you stumble into an empty room, finding the nearest waste basket and dropping to the ground to heave what little substance had been left in your stomach into it. Your throat burned as you hurled again, a choked sob raking your shoulders as you felt yourself start to crumble full force. As the acid churning in your stomach subsides, you scramble for a tissue to wipe your mouth before curling into a heap beside the sullied waste basket. Your cries come in waves, harsh enough to shake your shoulders and squeeze your chest painfully tight. Panic surges in a suffocating hold, your eyes screwed shut as your hands threaded through your hair.

You fell apart completely.

The small lifeboat holding your sanity wasn’t any match for the hurricane inside your mind. Constricted breaths came out in hiccuping sobs. Your throat felt as if it were closing. With your eyes shut so tightly and your thundering heartbeat overwhelming your senses, you didn’t notice the sound of the door sliding open and shut. Your awful attempts at gasping for air failed to fill your burning lungs, making things worse. You needed to breathe. You couldn't open your eyes either as the fear kept you in a chokehold.

It took a minute for the chaos in your thoughts to register the soothing thumbs moving on your cheeks as human contact that wasn't your own doing. Someone was kneeling in front of you, witnessing your breakdown, and for once, there wasn't any violence or harsh words. The shrieking storm inside your chest slowly started to ebb away as a soft pressure met your forehead. Soft circles traced your flushed skin, wiping away the tears and slowly the pain clouding your senses. Minutes pass before you're able to open your eyes.

It's Mags.

Her touch is soothing, drawing your consciousness out of the fog and into her hands. Tears are still flowing freely down your cheeks but you manage to take a gasping breath of air. The older woman's scent is like sea salt and wildflowers with a hint of cracked peppercorn. It's comforting. Mags' forehead gently rests against yours, looking into your ears as she helps guide your breathing. There isn't a word spoken but you feel as if you're an open book in her palms. You feel safe.

You can't remember the last time you felt safe.

Safe.

{{ taglist }}

@emerald-09 @reader-bookling123 @finnickodaddy @thehairington86 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts

[currentlylostinpoliclinico]

Quickly tried out @ratpunksdraw’s tutorial! It’s very good pls try it, I can color outside the lines and it doesn’t matter :D

Feat. My new favorite squad dynamic and the chaotic duo.

Procreate doesn’t have a ripple option but turns out using noise is not that far as a result- or at least I like it! :D

Paper texture @/bashcorpo on deviantart

[roxygen22]

First Day of School

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

A/N: Reader inserts are minimal in this one. Reader stayed home with Baby Charlotte (aka Charlie) so Willy and Ben/Bean could have some 1:1 time before his first day of school.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Are you excited about your first day of school, Bean?" Willy asked as he walked through the park with his son. He took the day off to spend some quality time with the boy before he started kindergarten the next day.

Ben was slow to respond and fell behind Willy's pace. He stopped and looked back at the small boy. "Bean?"

Ben looked up at Willy, worry clearly etched in his features. He knelt down and rubbed Ben's arm in reassurance. Willy had anticipated some reticence since Ben had never spent a full day away from you or him.

"Papa," he said in a small voice. "Were you nervous on your first day of school?" The boy's lip trembled.

Willy carded a hand through Ben's curly hair, then rested it on his cheek. "Well, Bean, I didn't get to go to school. But, I have had other firsts. And yes, I was nervous every time."

"Like when?" Ben implored as if he could not imagine his papa being scared of anything.

Willy stood and paused to think. "Like my first day as a sailor. I lived on a boat as a child, sure, but that was on a calm river, not the open ocean. I remember standing on the dock staring up at the huge ship, knowing my life was about to change. I hadn't even climbed on board and I was already seasick just thinking about it." They started slowly ambling down the path again. "But, I did it anyway. After some time, I became a tip-top sailor, like I had been doing it all of my life, and got to see places that most people only dream of."

By that point, the pair had wandered to the base of their favorite hill in the park. Willy could see that Ben was still lost in thought. He needed to lighten the mood somehow.

"Hey, Bean?" he asked to get the boy's attention. Ben looked up solemnly. "Race ya!" Willy shouted gleefully and took off running up the hill. Temporarily stunned, Ben stared at him with wide eyes before chasing after him in a fit of giggles.

Winded, they lay in the grass at the summit to catch their breath and watch the clouds lazily drift by. The two took turns pointing out shapes of animals. After a bit, Willy continued his earlier lecture.

"It's perfectly normal to feel those nervous butterflies in your tummy on the eve of change."

"But I don't want anything to change," Ben lamented. "I won't get to play with Mamma and Charlie. I won't get to help you make new chocolate or candies."

"I know it will be different, but you can still come to the factory or shop after school or on the weekends. Your mother and Charlie will still be eager to play with you when you get home. I bet you'll even make new friends to play with at school. You'll find a new normal. Besides, life would be boring if nothing ever changed."

They turned their heads to look at each other. Willy booped him on the nose with his index finger and smiled. "You probably wouldn't be here if I hadn't gotten on that boat."

"Huh?"

"Well, seafaring allowed me to gather lots of exotic ingredients to make magical concoctions that set my chocolate apart from the rest. Without my shop, I wouldn't have met your mother, and we wouldn't have you, my little cocoa bean. And I'll let you in on a little secret," Willy lowered his voice to a whisper at the end. "I was nervous when I found out about you."

"You were?" Ben pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at Willy's face.

"Mmhmm. You made me a papa, Bean. I had never been a father, nor did I have one growing up. I'm learning how to be one every day. It's been my grandest adventure yet."

Ben smiled, then fell onto his back once more to watch the clouds float by.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you did it anyway. Got on the boat, I mean, even though you were scared."

"Me, too, Bean. Me, too." Willy sighed contentedly.

A few beats passed.

"Papa?"

"Can we go get ice cream?"

Willy chuckled. "Ice cream sounds like the best idea ever."

☆☆☆☆☆

-next day-

You, Charlotte, and Willy walked Ben to school. Ben was bouncy and talkative, asking questions about your memories of your own first day of classes. The boy grew quieter, though, as the building came into view. He shrank behind Willy's leg as more parents and children gathered at the fence, waiting for the school to open.

Willy offered him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then dropped to one knee to make eye contact. "Don't be shy. It's alright if you feel a little trepidation."

"But do it anyway," Ben parroted from the conversation the day before.

Willy smiled and wrapped the boy in a hug, "That's right, Bean. Do it anyway."

Ben then gave you and Charlotte hugs and kisses, gathered his bag, and started toward the door. He stopped at the bottom step to turn back and wave at you all. Willy blew a kiss and waved as you grabbed Charlotte's chubby little hand to help her wave back. Tears came to your eyes when you saw Ben turn back to the door, pull his shoulders back and head up with confidence, and walk inside.

Still so small, yet so big, so fast, you thought to yourself. You looked to Willy as he wiped fat tears from his cheeks with his silk scarf. He barely maintained his composure until Ben was out of sight.

"I'm going to miss having him around during the day," Willy said with a sniffle.

"As will I, love. As will I," you replied softly.

Charlotte broke the melancholy with a coo. Willy chuckled and reached out to pluck her from her perch on your hip. "You, missy, aren't allowed to grow up that fast, understood?"

::raspberry::

"I'm glad we're in agreement."

☆☆☆☆☆

Masterlist

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 5

Introducing...PERONA! I love this pink haired princess. I hope you enjoy the switch ups I've done here! I wanted to try and give a little insight to everyone. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings! None this time!

It's only been four days, and Dracule already longs to be back on your quiet island in the middle of nowhere. Just the two of you and quiet Hank, and not the loud mouth ghost girl who had shown up at his castle and just never left. He feels a sigh bubble up and spill over for the umpteenth time today when he hears Perona screech again about…something?

He ignores her shrill voice and focuses back on the task at hand, finding his Darling the books that she wanted. Dracule has already found the seafaring and ship books he wants to give her; his home is filled to the brim with anything he may want, after all. He already knows you enjoy Botany, so he supposes he would search for those next.

Mihawk is pulled from his musing when he notices that it has gone oddly quiet. He cuts his eyes to the floating girl under his care and finds her far too close for comfort. He glares at her, face falling from whatever expression he'd been making, “What, Perona?” He demands.

The pink haired girl narrows her eyes right back at him and floats closer despite the obvious annoyance that colors his tone.

“You are what, Mihawk,” Perona squawks in his face. She glances down at the books that lay across his massive desk, “Since when do you need books about sailing? And you've been,” she grimaces, “Smiley lately. What's that about?”

Dracule's expression closes off, mouth dropping in a sneer, “I suggest you mind your own business, today, Ghost Girl,” he snaps at her and casually tucks his gifts away under his desk. He absolutely does not want Perona of all people to know about his hidden oasis away from the world. You didn't need that kind of attention.

Perona sticks her tongue out at him, “Ugh, so you are hiding something! Why don't you just tell me? Who else will I tell? It's not like Zoro is here anymore.” She laments dramatically. He watches her float up and around the room, her odd stuffed animals watching nervously from the doorway of his study.

“My business is my business,” Dracule quips and reaches for the glass of wine he'd left to air, and then takes a delicate sip. His mind wanders back to you, and he makes a mental note to bring along his favorite wine for you to try next time he shows himself.

The thought of you flushed and giggly with alcohol has him shifting in his seat.While he would never take advantage of you, he can picture you clinging to him, thick tongued as he whispered all the things he wanted from you. You listened to him so well, trusting that he would not lead you astray. Unwarranted, a smirk begins to curl his lips, and his nice day dream is shattered by the triumphant sound that Perona makes.

“See! There you are again! You don't just smile like that! It's creepy,” she makes a face at him, and Dracule can feel the vein in his forehead pulse in pure frustration.

“Get out of here before I toss you in the sea, Perona,” Dracule snaps at her, and the pink haired girl huffs in obvious disdain even as she flips herself around to float out of his study.

“Fine, Dracy. Be that way to your only friend,” Perona snips, and thankfully, one of the stitched stuffies shuts the door behind them.

Mihawk swipes a hand through his hair. He's more annoyed about himself for getting so lost in thought over some woman on a lost island. He doesn't understand why you've become so…special to him so quickly, but he's learned long ago that one shouldn't question why one wants something. You were a unique specimen, one that he wanted to know everything about. These small glimpses into your life he has gotten so far are not enough, not for one as selfish as he.

Dracule huffs to himself, “Acting like a fool,” he grumbled and sipped his wine in contemplative silence until his glass was empty. He stands from his plush seat, mind already occupied with mentally pursuing his collection of books and the ones he wanted to give to you.

-----

Perona catches Mihawk twice more smiling to himself and calls him out each time the next couple of days. She doesn't know what's gotten into Mihawk, but the usual stoic warlord was far more…pleasant than usual. As long as she didn't point out the way he was smiling to himself, that is.

She looks through the odd arrangement of books on his desk when he is gone, frowning to herself at the array of sailing and Botany books. There is even one about the many species of animal that make the Grand Line their home. These aren't the kind of tomes that Perona sees him reading, and it has made her very suspicious.

She drops the books with a wrinkled nose and floats back in the air, “What are you hiding, Dracy,” she hisses to herself and glares at his desk as if had all the answers in the world.

Perona sighs and then fixes the desk, hiding the books from sight and leaving before she is caught by the owner of the castle. She'd hate to see if he actually went through with his threat.

-----

The weeks that you are alone on your island are long. Longer than long, you think. It's been nineteen days since Mihawk left, you know, because you keep careful track of when to rotate your drying racks for your herbs, and the departure has left you more…despondent lately. You try your best to ignore the cold that constantly surrounds you without your mysterious friend.

Were the two of you friends? You didn't really know. You've never been involved with someone before, especially not with someone so unique and interesting as Dracule. It's rare that someone washed up on your tiny island, and when they did, they usually tried to rob you after you tried to help them.

You sigh and sit up in the sands of the shore that faces west, the way Hawkeye had gone when he left. You wonder when he'll come back, and you blush when you think of all the things he might want to do with you next. That kiss the morning before he set sail had been mind-numbing. You liked the way he took control of your life, enjoyed it when he looked at you with those piercing eyes, and ordered you.

A big shaggy body shoves between your arms suddenly, and you snicker as Hank tackles you back down. Even with the distraction of your shaggy pup, your thoughts still linger on the yellow eyed man.

“Look at me, Hank!” You bury your face in his fur, “All I can think about is him kissing me!” You whail and your thoughts instantly turn to the way his tongue had slid in your mouth, headless of you just waking, “I sound like someone from one of those books,” You huff in frustration and rise, wiping hair away from your face when the wind suddenly whips around you.

Something shadow's you from the warm sun, and you squint up to see what had interrupted your rant to Hank. Your mouth runs dry when you see none other than the man your brain hasn't been able to keep quiet about.

Dracule smirks down at his sweet oasis, who stares up at him with big eyes and lips caught in her teeth as if afraid to speak up. He reaches out for her, warm hand sliding along her jaw, and thumb tapping the lip between her teeth. You open your mouth, and Mihawk smooths the pad of his thumb over the abused flesh.

“I believe I heard you saying something about a kiss?” Dracule questions, and you are caught in his ring-eyed gaze. He raises a brow when you nod, and you remember the last time this happened.

“I was, maybe thinking about the kiss from that morning,” you say, voice rough in embarrassment as you try to look anywhere but at Mihawk. His grip tightens, and your cheeks burn as Dracule forces you to look at him, proving any attempts mute.

The warlord chuckles, a dark rumble deep in his chest that has your toes curling in anticipation, “Well then, Dear One. I'm here now. There is nothing stopping you from taking what you want.”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff

[cypherdecypher]

Animal of the Day!

Great Auk (Pinguinus impennis)

(Photo from the Cincinnati Museum Center)

Extinction Date- 1844

Habitat- Northern Atlantic Ocean

Size (Weight/Length)- 75 cm

Diet- Fish; Crustaceans

Cool Facts- The great auk, while looking like a penguin, is nowhere close to being related to them. These seafaring birds were the only auk species to survive to the modern era, numbering in the millions during the Pleistocene. They were extremely powerful swimmers and the abundance of fish in the Northern Atlantic provided greatly. The great auk was held in high importance to Neolithic peoples due to their depiction in cave art and jewelry made of their bones. Unfortunately, great auks were easy to hunt and resulted in their extinction. Their feathers were used in pillows and their eggs were seen as a delicacy. The last pair of great auks were strangled to death and their egg was smashed in 1844. Today, the great auk’s closest relative is the razorbill. Luckily, the razorbill is of least concern with an increasing population due to protections placed on their fishing grounds.

Rating- 12/10 (In the genus Pinguinus, which penguins were later named after.)

[fatehbaz]

In one of the oldest poems in English literature, [...] The Seafarer not only provides us with one of our first ornithological references in the English language, but also [...] written description of birds evoking place, being associated with a distinct landscape. This poem is not alone, however, in suggesting to us how birds could inspire a feeling for place more than 1,000 years ago. [...] Hidden in the names of towns and villages are the ghostly traces of birds conjuring powerful identities for people in the landscapes and settlements of early medieval England. [...]

Among this rich repository of names [in Britain], birds rank in their many hundreds as vitalising elements and markers of medieval places – more than any other class of wild animal [...]. Among the cranes and crows, eagles and pigeons and geese (to mention some of the more commonly named birds), there are also less expected species. Who would imagine the mulch-and-mud snipe secretly probing the worm house as place markers in Snitterfield (Warwickshire), or fairy-flitting titmice roving through trees as the spirits of Masongill (Yorkshire), or yellowhammers like fireside embers in the winter hedgerows in Amberley (Sussex)? [...] What was it about birds that so caught people’s place-imaginations?

---

One avian order that demonstrates birds’ place-shaping potential especially well is the owls. [...] [T]he tiny village of Ulcombe [is] nestled in a gentle fold of the North Downs. Its name is listed in the Domesday Book (1086 CE), and it means ‘the owl’s valley’. [...] [O]ur word for this order of birds descends from one of just two Old English words for all owls: ule, pronounced ‘oooo-l’ (the other is uf, of which there are very few records.) Ule is a very ancient [...] utterance. [...] The onomatopoeic potency of ule implies not only how owls themselves materialised and existed as sound [...], but that this also affected how people experienced the places in which they heard these sounds. On some level, those places named after owls (Ulgham, Outchester, Oldberrow, Ullenhall, Ullenwood) were identified as soundscapes as much as landscapes [...].

---

Other ‘sound birds’ appearing in place names besides owls, however, suggest [...] bioacoustics as [...] distinguishing properties of a place’s atmosphere. Take bitterns, for instance, those specialists of reed-bed living, who have perfected invisibility [...]. We know bitterns best by the eerie, sonorous booming of male bitterns that ‘bombleth in the myre’, as Geoffrey Chaucer describes it in ‘The Wife of Bath’s Tale’. In names like Purleigh (pūr + lēah = ‘bittern clearing’), then, we are confronted again by places defined according to a particular, evocative sound. Even in the 18th century, when the draining of much of the old Fens surrounding the Ouse Washes was already well underway, Daniel Defoe is drawn to ‘the uncouth Music of the Bittern … so loud that it is heard two or three Miles Distance’ [...].

---

Like the tawny owl, of course, [the cuckoo] has a very distinctive song. Its famous call (immortalised in the medieval song ‘Sumer Is Icumen In’) is equally matched by the bird’s reputation as a herald of summer. Species such as cuckoos and swallows are only present for part of the year in Britain, meaning they were mostly absent from those places that came to bear their names. How was it, then, that they still came to imbue locations such as Swallowcliffe or Yaxley (the Old English for cuckoo is geac, pronounced ‘yay-ack’) with such defining and enduring resonance? These summer birds bring a place to life, as it were. [...] Cuckoos, like so many British birds that are threatened or extinct, would have been much more abundant in the Middle Ages. Yaxley, on the edge of surviving cuckoo strongholds in the former Fens, would have thronged to their calls. Now these places, and many like them where the birds of their names are absent, are solemnly displaced, the names creaking in the wind like dilapidated pub signs [...]. We can sense that displacement in the sprawl of modern suburban environments too, which [...] assign bird nomenclatures to roads and residential spaces (Sandpiper Drive, Nightingale Way, Lark Rise, Goldcrest Mews…) where the species named are nowhere to be seen [...].

[B]ird place names [...] alert us [...] [to] the rich forms and possibilities of ecological dwelling, which shaped how people perceived and responded to the local worlds around them. [...] We need these spirits of place.

---

All text above by: Michael J. Warren. “Home and the birdsong.” Aeon. 12 December 2022. Essay edited by Sam Haselby. [In this post, bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.] Essay published by Aeon at: [aeon.co/essays/british-place-names-resonate-with-the-song-of-missing-birds]

[minkyungseokie]

Anime

No Game No Life

Sora and Shiro are two hikikomori stepsiblings who are known in the online gaming world as Blank, an undefeated group of gamers. One day, they are challenged to a game of chess by Tet, a god from another reality. The two are victorious and are offered to live in a world that centers around games.

Blue Exorcist

After discovering that he's the son of Satan, a young man must join the True Cross Academy in order to master his abilities and defeat Satan himself

Naruto

It tells the story of Naruto Uzumaki, a young ninja who seeks recognition from his peers and dreams of becoming the Hokage, the leader of his village.

One Piece

In a seafaring world, a young pirate captain sets out with his crew to attain the title of Pirate King, and to discover the mythical treasure known as 'One Piece.'

Twin Star Exorcist

The story revolves around Rokuro Enmado and Benio Adashino, a pair of young and talented exorcists, who (according to a prophecy) are destined to marry and have a child that will be the ultimate exorcist.

Jujustu Kaisen

Yuji Itadori, a kind-hearted teenager, joins his school's Occult Club for fun, but discovers that its members are actual sorcerers who can manipulate the energy between beings for their own use. He hears about a cursed talisman - the finger of Sukuna, a demon - and its being targeted by other cursed beings.

Fairy Tail

The series follows the adventures of Natsu Dragneel, a member of the Fairy Tail wizards' guild who is searching for the dragon Igneel, and partners with Lucy Heartfilia, a celestial wizard. 

Play it cool, Guys

A look into the daily lives of four guys who walk the line between unapproachably cool and undeniably clumsy on a regular basis.

Black Butler

Ciel has formed a contract with demon Sebastian Michaelis, who disguises himself as his butler, to seek revenge on those who tortured him and murdered his parents. In exchange for his services, Sebastian will be allowed to consume Ciel's soul.

Uramichi Oniisan

Being an adult is hard. For 31-year-old Uramichi Omota, that depressing truth weighs on him. While on TV, he's an upbeat exercise instructor for a children's show, but sometimes he can't keep his sardonic comments to himself.

Overtake

Freelance photographer Kôya Madoka finds himself in a slump due to a certain reason. He goes to Fuji International Speedway to work on a story, and he meets the highschool F4 racer Haruka Asahina. He suddenly finds his heart racing after not feeling much for a long time.

March Comes in Like a Lion

 It features the life of Rei Kiriyama, an introvert and professional shogi player, who gradually develops both his play and his relationship with others.

The Devil is a Part-Timer

 Hilarity and fun ensues when Satan ends up in modern day Japan without any magic to return, and starts working part time in a fast food joint.

Yowamushi Pedal

Onoda is a cheerful otaku looking to join his new school's anime club, eager to finally make some friends. Unfortunately, the club has been disbanded and somehow he stumbled into the bicycle club.

Tokyo Revengers

Hanagaki Takemichi lives an unsatisfying life right up until his death. Waking up 12 years in the past, he reckons with the eventual fate of his friends and tries to prevent an unfortunate future.

Ouran High School Host Club

One day, Haruhi, a scholarship student at exclusive Ouran High School, breaks an $80,000 vase that belongs to the "Host Club," a mysterious campus group consisting of six super-rich (and gorgeous) guys. To pay back the damages, she is forced to work for the club, and it's there that she discovers just how wealthy the boys are and how different they are from everybody else.

Mashle: Magic and Muscles

The story follows Mash Burnedead, a magic-less kid who enrolls at Easton and aims to fool everyone into thinking he's top of the class

IDOLiSH7

An idol group is named "Idolish7," and consists of seven male singers, each with their own unique personality and background. Tsumugi must train and turn all of them into the famous idols, all the while struggling against the hardships of the entertainment industry

Tokyo Ghoul

Set in a world where humans live in constant fear of ghouls - superpowered humanoid beings who feed on human flesh to survive, a shy college student named Kaneki Ken, who is nearly killed in an attack by one of these monsters, becomes a half-ghoul himself after receiving an organ transplant from the ghoul.

Obey Me

The main character is transported to Devildom by a summoning ritual to attend Devildom Academy as a exchange student for one year. The main character will be greeted by seven gorgeous men that are avatars of the deadly sins.

Buddy Daddies

Kazuki Kurusu and Rei Suwa, assassins who live under one roof; and Miri, the daughter of Kazuki and Rei's assassination target who ended up being picked up by Kazuki, who she thinks is her biological father.

SpyxFamily

The story follows a spy who has to "build a family" to execute a mission, not realizing that his adopted daughter is a telepath, and the woman he agrees to marry is a skilled assassin

Haikyuu

Junior high school student, Shoyo Hinata, becomes obsessed with volleyball after catching a glimpse of Karasuno High School playing in the Nationals on TV.

Food Wars

Teenager Soma Yukihira aspires to become a full-time chef in his father Joichiro's family restaurant, "Restaurant Yukihira", and to surpass his father's culinary skills.

My Hero Academia

Born without special powers in a world where 80% of the population has them, Izuku Midoriya still dreams of becoming a hero.

Black Clover

The story follows Asta, a young boy born without any magic power who is given a rare grimoire that grants him anti-magic abilities. With his fellow mages from the Black Bulls, Asta plans to become the next Wizard King.

The Daily Life of the Immortal King

A boy with extraordinary magical powers tries to pass for average at his new high school, where the students learn to cultivate their spiritual force.

Demon Slayer

 A family is attacked by demons and only two members survive - Tanjiro and his sister Nezuko, who is turning into a demon slowly. 

[mmoodd-jobutupaki]

*takes a deep breath* AHHHHHDKAJFKSJA

I JUST WATCHED BOY AND THE HERON AND I LOVE IT SM AND IT'S SO GOOD.

So obvs, it's studio ghibli, it's gna be some of the prettiest stuff you've ever seen. So many scenery frames made me think "I'm gna scour the internet for them and repaint them as art practice. It resembles smudgy oil paintings rather than studio ghibli's gouache style (see spirited away, Totoro) but it's honestly beautiful nonetheless, and seeing it on the big screen made me feel like I was in the movie. There's even a stone passage that looks like the one from Coraline. The animation works so smoothly to make the film an overall wonderful immersive experience.

The character design was so good. You have your classic ghibli, countryside, apron wearing girl. Your boy with spiky hair. And probably the best addition of a butch seafarer, Kiriko, dubbed by Florence Pugh (oh my goodness I am too gay for this). The grannies were so inexplicably lovely and visually distinct I just want a hug from them. The wizard (Mark Hamill having this otherworldly yet grounded design and amazing hair. The heron was oddly grotesque without being scary (this is such a gift only japanese have.) and his various designs fluctuate along with the story. I was surprisingly intrigued by the fact that even in crane form, he had human teeth. And ofc THE WARAWARA.

GOSH THEY ARE ADORABLE I LOVE THESE DAMN TAPIOCA PEARL LOOKING THINGS THEY HAD ME SQUEALING IN THE THEATRE EITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE.

The score is beautiful and I dare say that it's on par, maybe even better than the Spiderverse score (and that's REALLY HIGH praise coming from me, I love the Spiderverse score to the point where it's on my Spotify wrapped.) I loved how the use of motifs, especially in relation to magic in the film. And definitely need to go give it more listens. 11/10 would recommend listening to it even outside of the film, it's just that great, give it a Grammy or smth.

Humor in this film is hilarious without being corny. It's very on the nose, what's currently happening in the scene humor. Characters (won't say who) also have amazing dynamics that supply a lot of humor for the film. Obviously we have that last snippet from the trailer and I'll give you this out of context "Mahito's turned into a parakeet"

The story is very easy to follow. The first half of the story is very grounded. And even in the second fantastical half, the visuals and little sprinkles of just the right amount of information help to guide us through the amazing fantastical world. Nothing ever feels too spoonfed to the audience or too overwhelming.

Spoilers below the cut

Character was great too. The main cast each have a very touching emotional aspect and nothing is what it seems, not from the trailers and not even within the show. Characters go on journeys you never could've expected from the beginning of the show. Such as the heron, who I genuinely thought from trailers was gna be the bad guy but turned into a genuine, squat goblin companion. And the parakeet king goddamn I thought he was gna be a good guy with his "we must protect this world" gig, not some giant cannibalistic parakeet with a surprising penchant for sneaking. Anyway, I especially loved how we meet characters almost multiple times with how we're introduced to different versions of them. Kiriko>>>

The moral of this story had me confused ngl, but I'm fcking dumb and need to go read some analysis so ignore this. The main message I got was that "Life is shit. But it's worth living and I can make it better for myself. Through friends, I don't have to be alone through it all" which made me tear up ngl since I've been struggling with life this year and seeing how our boy Mahito went from being a closed off lil squat to that *cries*. Personally I interpreted the great granduncle and his blocks as seeing what's wrong with the system the older generation has built, and demanding more from it/straight up turning away from it. Also Mahito learning to let go of his mom. The pelicans wanting the best for their children and not always liking what they have to do for survival as a link to war soldiers @hamable . I also read from @simplysparrow14 and @rockpaperimpala the film is also Miyazaki coming to the realisation that 'studio ghibli will be his legacy and it will be put to rest, it won't be the same if continued without him and that's okay' and ow I just got hit in the feels.

To summarize the boy and the heron excelled, slaps, is show stopping, brilliant, awesome, a true work of art and soul and 11000/10 go watch it ON THE BIG SCREEN I am not joking.

[eywaseclipse]

A Taste of Heaven*

Characters: Original character Tanywral, Dad!Jake, Tonowari (made him a widow again lol) 

Synopsis: During the celebration of Aonung’s Iknimaya Tonowari and Jake get drunk, and talk about how lucky he is to have a mate like you, Tonowari tells Jake how he’s missed the touch of a woman since his mate died, and Jake gets an idea

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, aggressive behavior while drunk, complete loss of inhibitions lol 18+ only!

Word Count: 2k

Your people have suffered more loss than you could even physically fathom, the pain in your chest heavy like stones. When you and your family arrived at Awa’atlu seeking Uturu, your mate Toruk Makto left behind his old life. You all had. No longer at war, you knew your sacrifices were to keep your children safe. Several months had gone by since your arrival and you found your kids adjusting better than you could’ve imagined. Neteyam and Lo’ak became excellent free divers and hunters of the reef, Tuk and Kiri free diving took a liking to Ilus and began training young Metkayina children how to bond with the animals. You being a mighty warrior yourself took a liking to spears and tridents although struggling at first, you got the hang of these foreign weapons. As the tsakarem of your own clan you were in tune with healing practices and naturally thrived among the new clan, weaving baskets, collecting shells, making medicinal herbs and healing the wounded. Your mate Jake spent most of his time with the Metkayina Olo’eyktan, Tonowari. Learning the hunting ways of the tribe. You and Jake spent most of your nights with your children in the maruis after long days of training and earning your keep. 

The day came for celebrating Ao’nung’s rite of passages being completed, his place among the people being solidified as a true man. The preparations for tonight all distributed among members of the tribe, yourself and husband included. You spent your day picking fruits, and collecting seafare for tonight’s feast. Excitement burns in your belly knowing you’re wearing your special festival outfit you spent time working on with the chief’s daughter. You and Jake haven’t had much time by yourself since your arrival, tonight would be a time to celebrate, relax and enjoy the festivities of the evening. The children already off with the new friends they made, had your tent feeling empty. You anticipated Jake’s arrival after his day of preparations, butterflies rising in your stomach. You finish the final touches of your shell adorned outfit, turning in the mirror gazing at your taunt figure. You smile to yourself knowing you hand crafted everything from the sea pearls, beautiful abalone, sea moss, and blue cloth. Your ears perk up at the sound of your tent flap opening, head whipping to the source. Your mate entering the tent smiles at your appearance. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He says putting his hunting gear down. You chuckle at his flirtation and make your way over to your husband. You wrap your arms around him and kiss his lips passionately. “Hi Paskalin honey.” You whisper in a smile. Your tail flicks with contentment, Jake’s whipping your thigh. He turns to wash up from the day to your table, as you assist him. “I like that outfit, did you make it?” He says taking a cloth into the bucket of water. You observe your mate cleaning himself as you nod lightly. “Yes, I spent several months on it with Tsireya for this night.” As he finishes cleaning his skin, he smiles at you lightly. Appreciating the rare moment you two have alone together. “Jake, I made you something as well.” You announce. You make your way to your bowl of belongings pulling the shell necklace you spent making for him. You bring it to his face, as he grins with pride. “It’s beautiful, just like you.” You giggle at his compliment walking to his back to put the necklace on, moving his locs. “There, now we both look like we fit in here.” You speak softly. He turns his head to you, embracing the now comfortable silence. With eclipse approaching, the celebration is coming soon. He brings his thumb to your jaw stroking it gently, closing the space between you two. Your lips slowly touch, melting into each other. This is the first time he’s kissed you since your arrival at the reef village. Your intimate moment suddenly broken with the sudden opening of the tent flap. “Hey mom have you seen my-Oh!” Neteyam immediately sees the moment he interrupted. You and Jake break the kiss, whipping to your son. Jake chuckles at the sick joke he calls parenthood as you laugh with him, squeezing his arm. “What is it my son?” As you walk to your eldest. 

With the celebration now in full swing you sit among the beach, the cool air lightly caressing your skin, torches along the sand with a buffet of food that you helped gather. Exotic fruits, seafood, grilled banana leaves stuffed with rice and fish, fermented juice. All celebrating the chief’s son. You sit with your mate as you watch your children dance with the people now adapting to the dance of such a celebration. With several cups of alcohol flowing in your veins you feel warmth radiating through your body. You lean to your husband as the music vibrates through the sand. Suddenly being pulled off your feet, Tsireya beckons you to do. “Tanywral, you must! It is the way!” She giggles. Who are you to say no to the chief’s daughter? You awkwardly move to the crowd of people moving their bodies fluid like ocean water. Your own moves still not quite perfected, but none the less your body finds the rhythm of the drums and horns weaving into the air. Jake watches you attentively, as your hips sway to the beat of the music. You roll your head back, arms spinning in the air. Your laughter fills his ears like the sweetest song. His loincloth tightening at the sight of his enticing mate. Suddenly he sees Tonowari sit beside him on the log. He sighs a breathy sigh taking a sip from his own drink. “What’s that sigh for?” He inquires to his good friend. Tonowari turns to Jake, “Just a few moon cycles ago, we were celebrating the return of the Tulkun. My mate being among us. This is just an adjustment that’s all.” Jake feels sorry for the chief. Not understanding the unbearable pain of losing a mate, he does empathize for this man. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.” He responds to the chief. Tonowari sighs, “Keep your mate close, appreciate her, even when you disagree, always understand how lucky you are to be blessed with such a union, and beautiful woman.” He speaks softly staring right at your moving body. Jake looks to where Tonowari’s gaze is locked to you dancing in the crowd. At first jealously pools in his stomach, then a fleeting thought enters his mind, treading along a borderline insane idea. With alcohol flowing through his veins, he lets the fermented juice do the talking. “You know, Tanywral and I haven’t had anytime to even be intimate since we got here.” Tonowari’s ears immediately perk up with intrigue. “Can’t seem to get a damn moment of peace and quiet these days.” He chuckles. Tonowari looks to you, then to Jake again. Is he? Is he taunting me? He thinks to himself. Jake senses Tonowari’s curiosity and continues, “Sometimes I think we need something to spice it up.” Your dancing figure comes into line of sight running to Jake. Breathlessly, you lean over the two men realizing you’re interrupting a private conversation, “Jake! I-oh!” You bring your hand to cover your laugh. “Sorry I didn’t realize I was interrupting something.” Jake smiles at your drunk state, “It’s okay princess, Tonowari and I were just talking about how lucky I am to have you as my mate.” Your cheeks immediately flush with his boldness. You look to Jake, then Tonowari who’s reaction you can’t read. “Oh is that so? Tonowari what do you think about me?” You say cooing to him. His eyes light up with shock, now flustered with your cheekiness. “I- was explaining to Jake the importance of savoring one’s mate.” He says chest now heaving with tension. You look to Jake, sharing a silent agreement. “Maybe, I can show you how to savor that, ‘Wari, would you like that?” Is she being serious, this cannot be. He thinks in shock.

He slowly turns his head to Jake, with eyes hooded with lust, practically salivating over his mate. You bring your hand to Tonowari’s flushed cheek, “Wari bring us somewhere private where we can be together.” His eyes now wide in shock, he looks to where his people are singing and dancing oblivious, all drunk on the fermented juice like you three. He lets his liquid courage guide his actions. Slowly rising up, he nods, and leads the way to the mangrove forest. You and Jake’s hands intertwined walking in happy drunken strides following your leader. Eyes and body heavy with lust your belly burns with passion. Tonowari leads you to a forest clearing with moss and lush grass lit by the moonlight. Jake brings you close to him, crashing his lips to yours passionately. With you moaning into his mouth, Tonowari stares at the two of you igniting a fire within him. You break your kiss, slowly turning to the tall teal man. You reach out to him, his hand intertwining with yours. Your soft smile melting him to his core. “Wari let me make you feel good. We can make you feel again. Would you like that?” You whisper in his ear. Shivers sent down to his spine he feels his loincloth tighten with excitement. You chuckle at his reaction. “I would, my flower.” He breathlessly replies. Jake nods to him, ensuring he’s on board. Then you slowly bring your lips to his, causing a light moan to escape his mouth. You bring your hands to cup his strong pecs, feeling his body as he brings himself closer to you. You slip your tongue into his mouth as you lower your hands to the string of his loincloth. Jake circles in behind you rubbing his hands on your hips. You hips buck into Tonowari’s from the sensation of being touched by two men at once. Tonowari’s hands find their way to your breasts lightly massaging them, as you release a moan into his mouth. Your hands hastily work to untie his strings, as the material falls to the forest floor. His throbbing cock springs out slapping his toned stomach leaving a small mark of precum on his glistening skin. You gasp at the size. Jake was more than able to satisfy you with your needs and then some, being at about 14 inches himself, but where Jake exceeded in length Tonowari was making up for in sheer girth. He stood proud at at least 16 inches. You feel your mouth begin to salivate, as his eyes bore into your stare. He nervously chuckles, before bucking his hips into you, seeking friction. You bend down into the grass, bringing your face to his throbbing length. Slowly taking his cock in your mouth adjusting to the size, you wrap your tongue around the length, causing a loud moan to escape the hulking man. You bring your hands to his cock and begin caressing his member, watching his pulsating balls twitch at contact. 

Your mate’s hands caress your braids softly as you bring pleasure to the chief. “Such a good girl.” You hear Jake coo. Your pace quickening around Tonowari’s cock, as his chest tightens with pleasure. You bring yourself to suck hard around his swollen mushroom tip causing a loud whimper from him, “Ah! My petal, if you keep that up I will not last long.” His eyes fluttering to compose himself. You chuckle at his excitement. “Sorry, Tonowari, tell me how you want me then.” His ears perk up, “how I want you?” He inquires. Jake laughs as he brings you up to face both of them, rubbing circles on your shoulders. Your hands now wrapping around Tonowari’s neck, “yes tell me how I can make you feel good. Tonight is about you mighty warrior.” Your hooded eyes boring into his soul. His primal arousal now guiding his thoughts, he growls into you and scoops you up, causing a gasp to escape your mouth. Jake watches with desire, as he begins undoing his own strings to his loincloth. Tonowari brings you to a tree, head making contact with the trunk with a thump. His strong hands begin to untie your loincloth, as you lift you hips up for easier removal. The material falls to the floor revealing your glistening pussy. A sight he swears is going to end him. His nostrils filled with your sweet nectar. “Oh, princess I am going to devour you.”

I wrote this months ago while I was drunk and just left it with a cliffhanger, which is super annoying. should I do a part 2 and get the good stuff? Let me know!