#series: world trigger

[freshdickies]

[pennylime]

I was bored and I have little time to draw nowadays, so I've been chipping away at this for a while!! I just wanted to draw my favorites. I have more but there were only six slots and I wanna move on to other things now :3 it was so hard to choose ngl

Also click for quality

[van-del]

The rank wars are so genius, both team and solo. They take advantage of people’s competitiveness and drive skill sets higher and higher. Then there’s the commentating. In-story it’s just fantastic, with the logs it’s a learning opportunity for all agent ranks. On a meta level, having a standard set of Border triggers made this much easier.

Someone mentioned it on Twitter: Tamakoma’s unique triggers + the A-rankers customized ones (eg Kitora’s spider gun) shows that the mangaka did think of unique weaponry but there’s a canonical limitation on it. imo it gives a broader base for creativity, strategies and characterization.

Thinking up unique weapons for everyone would’ve caused a wall but the stratification of skill lessens that likelihood. The better you are the more you are thinking of winning, of learning from others, of the structures of the weapons, their limitations, their their trion usage, the edge you can get from bringing your own self into its functions.

The black kogetsu, mantis, pinball, Kitazoe’s meteors Ikoma whirlwind, everything Yuma does with Scorpion, the fact Jin invented Scorpion in the first place all of it is because of the rank wars and all of it is useful for fighting neighbors.

It’s genius on all levels

(Btw trion usage =/= limitation. Ikoma whirlwind comes from Ikoma’s upbringing. No one else being able to do it isn’t because of trion.)

[orange-artblog]

dark cream week - day 2: knight‘s armor

cross by jakei95

shattered by galacii-gallery

dream and nightmare by jokublog

dark cream week by @zu-is-here

[biblically-accurate-dca]

KILL!!!!!!!!!

[toastsnaffler]

at its core dorohedoro is abt what if there was someone whose special interest was making gyoza and also someone else whose special interest was eating them. and they found each other in this crazy world to be besties <3

[wallyhastoomanynuzlockes]

I am very afraid.

This is a physical cartridge. This isn't the first time something inexplicable and weird happened. Though it hasn't happened often.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#1016

So I haven't actually seen SNW yet (TOS fan). I just learned that in SNW apparently they make Una Riley an augment and I really disagree with this decision. I think the character of Una being removed from TOS because of sexism was a huge injustice. Canonically in TOS women aren't even allowed to be captains too (Turnabout intruder episode establishes this). Because of this, in-universe, Una would be a historic figure really important to feminism, having such a high ranked position in those times. She would need to be very smart and determined too. Her being an augment reminds me of when a women succesful in sports always get accused of cheating, doping, using steroids etc, and women in chess accused of cheating, etc etc. As if """natural"" women couldn't achieve those things. If it was any other character I would think this is an interesting plot, but her specifically, giver her character's history, is a bad look.

[etrosgate]

the second readthrough of world trigger is where it really kicks in

[irithnova]

....about that post going around again saying "hetalia isn't real sweaty :))" yeah dipshit anyone with a fucking brain cell knows that hetalia is not real but this take is one dimensional and incredibly tone deaf considering the nature of this fandom.

Having the liberty to participate in a fandom and create content does not absolve you from criticism; Freedom to be creative within a fandom is not freedom from tactfulness or good judgement. Especially within a country personification fandom.

You can cry "hetalia isn't real" all you want in order to deflect and belittle people who have to deal with discrimination by people in the fandom but it's very telling that these sort of posts usually come from people who's nations aren't targeted when it comes to this sort of crap.

Hetalia isn't real, so you can draw racist caricatures and write racist fanfics? Hetalia isn't real, so you can romanticise colonisation? Hetalia isn't real, so you can participate in historical revisionism? Hetalia isn't real, so you can excuse imperialism?

Maybe you can aim your "hetalia isn't real :))" garbage at people who blorbify the likes of Japan and Russia and America so much that they excuse actual Japanese, Russian, and American imperialism. Maybe you can aim your "hetalia isn't real" horseshit at people who use hetalia to showcase their prejudiced biases at certain groups.

If you think I'm joking, I've seen a certified Russia blorbifier post something saying "Go Ivan!" in regards to a news article about the invasion of Ukraine. I've seen people say that Japanese imperialism wasn't that bad because they blorbify Japan so much (Filipino here, if you think that please go fuck yourself!) I've seen people who criticise American imperialism get called vatniks/Russian agents by people who blorbify hetalia America.

Instead of telling people who are tired of dealing with this shit that they should get over it because hetalia isn't real, maybe go and tell the historical revisionists, imperialism apologists and downright racists to keep their trash out of the fandom, because you know. Hetalia isn't real.

[freshdickies]

A constant of the Fandom experience is starting out by saying ‘lol what if X happened’ and then accidentally really having fun with and committing fully to your own bullshit idea

[important follow-up]

[uzukibeans]

[spoilers for world trigger season 3; i know it's been out for like 2 years now but ik that WT is likely getting a new audience]

the beauty of the b rank wars arc is how it completely goes full circle

obviously, one of the more blatant full circle moments is tamakoma-2 basically doing a revenge match against ninomiya's squad

but here's something even more poetic: the way tamakoma-2 finish their first b rank war match is literally the same way they beat their last one:

with osamu making the final blow from behind (with a shooter trigger too!).

and to make the parallel even more obvious:

[oratokyosaigunda]

World Trigger series banner

[imaginedreamwrite]

Brave New World: Part 12

A/N: Trigger warnings for mentions of misogyny, sexism towards women, forceful confinement

It was the sharp cry that pierced the dark wing that had initially woken you up. It was a sharp and startling sound that broke you from your slumber, drawing you upright in your bed with a sudden jolt.

Immediately, you reached for the sides of your bed and curled your fingers in the sheets as a method to ground yourself. To hold yourself to the thin and old mattress, one with springs that were poking through your equally thin nightgown.

You have recently been thrown into a new yet seemingly endless, hellish environment. The move from a private room to the shared room was necessary to make space for another influx of omegas who had been brought to the facility.

Through the thin walls of the shared women’s ward you were thrown into, it was glaringly obvious that some pregnant omegas, used as surrogates and breeding machines, had given birth early.

There was an urgency to give birth before the due date, a necessity to try to save both mother and child from a fate that was unfair for both of them, however, the child would fare much better than she would.

“Shut up! Shut up!” One of the other omegas on this crowded floor raised her voice harshly, caring neither for the other woman in another room nor the consequences that would come to the poor mother.

You reacted quickly and threw the blankets off you, stumbling and falling to your hand and knees due to the process of them administering more drugs to your body. As your knees and hands had banged against the creaky wood, another sharp cry had been heard through the walls of this place.

Your weariness had made you crawl, initially, and as you traversed your way to the next rows of beds, that same woman screamed again, thrashing against the holds that kept her in place.

You could see her struggling, the latest douse of serum altering her brain chemistry and inducing temporary psychosis. Despite her aggression toward the mother and child in the birthing unit, you wished the other omega luck on getting past this debilitation. You knew full well that if she hadn’t recovered from this aftereffect, she would have been thrown into one of the many pleasure houses and used as a toy.

If she hadn’t recovered, she would be discarded as if she was nothing more than a heat receptacle for alphas.

“Please, you have to be quite. Please, if you don’t they’ll come down on all of us!”

There was a steady thud of her back against the bed as she violently rocked herself back and forth, creating her own despotism hold of her world as she saw it. She was so far in her head and in her madness created by this last bout of the serum, she hadn’t realized that rocking back and forth as violently as she had would create more hell for you all.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” She screamed three more times before another omega had risen to her feet, stumbling just as you had, and started toward the bed.

With the one omega woman behind dealt with, you felt secure enough to rise to your feet after reaching for one of the rails of the metal bed. Your hands gripped the end of the footboard, and you slowly pushed yourself to stand, your legs and feet aching to the point where it felt like they were burning.

Still, despite the aching in your bones, you pushed yourself further. You took every step cautiously, fearing that at any point one of the guards would come for you, for all of you, to deliver swift punishment. It wasn’t just you that would suffer for being out of bed, rather harsh consequences would come to every omega.

Even those that were sleeping.

“Shut that thing up!” there were hurried whispers in the room that followed an outburst, the direct order coming from the oldest omega in the room and focused on the woman in a mental break. “Shut her up, or we’ll all get it!”

You paid no mind to the order and focused on getting out of the room you were in, to head to the birthing ward. While you had known the door would be locked and access was denied to you and anyone else in the room, you also knew that one of the panels on the left-hand side of the wall was fabricated and easy to remove.

With the thinness of the walls and this falsified covering, you could easily slip from one room to another, and once you’d gotten to the other room you could help the omega who just gave birth. Or at least you could attempt to help, you could attempt to console her and her child, make an effort to extend what little kindness you could while being trapped here.

“I said shut her up!” The oldest omega yelled again, her voice carrying as you removed the panel and began to slip into the crawl space, keeping yourself as small as possible in order to make your way from one room to the other.

A shiver ran up your spine when your feet hit the other panel, the cold metal piercing your skin through the soles of your feet. The sensation was temporary, it had evaporated the moment you kicked the panel loose and managed to pull yourself through, coming into the other room.

You struggled to stand, a shake to your knees and thighs had almost made you tumble back to the floor, your hand already outstretched before you caught yourself.

The newborn was hastily wrapped in a thin blanket, squirming and still squawking with a great set of lungs that would have aided a career in entertainment further down their life. You had heard the omegas in the other room struggling to stop the maddened omega from raising too much of a complaint while this poor woman had just given birth.

Your approach was slow and calculated. You didn’t dare try to cause another sound to alert the betas and controlled alphas who ran this facility. You were already on their radar, already someone they wanted to study and watch, an omega who they had wanted to get rid of.

“Please,” she pleaded with you, simpering soft voice almost a wail, “they’ll take my baby. If they hear…”

The chirp of an alarm somewhere else in the facility prickled your skin, your stomach bubbling with unease and caution.

“Shh,” she rocked her child, her eyes wide and her lips parted with every attempt at quieting her child, “please…please-!”

“You’re a breeder,” you already knew she was and yet, it felt as if this reality was just hitting you, “they’re supposed to be coming for you but-”

“— I gave birth early, without medication. Without-”

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest as another bang had resounded somewhere in the building, a ghostly echo of something nefarious happening somewhere else. You stepped closer to her, hands shaking and your eyes growing wide in size, unable to truly think or react to what was going on around you.

Women, omegas, restrained to beds with what had once been softened cuffs but had now become rough, were lining the room from one end to the next. They were laying on nothing more than tufts of stuffing bound in thin canvas, a state that even cattle wouldn’t be permitted to lay on.

“They’ll take my baby, help me.” The omega was whimpering, and it wasn’t until now that you’d realized she was weakened by giving birth.

It hadn’t been until that moment that you’d even been aware that she was bleeding. The tang of copper hits your nose, mixing disgustingly with the smell of mildew and stale dust.

“You’re dying.” You crept closer and sank to your knees beside her bed, your hands curling against the cheap canvas bed. “You don’t have time.”

“Take my baby,” she turned to look at you, eyes losing their light and her breathing becoming shallow, “don’t let them have her. Don’t let her fall to the fate.”

“I can’t, don’t give her to me. I can’t take her. I can’t keep her, I can’t-” you stumbled over your words, fumbling as you tried to speak and make your case for not taking the child, for not taking the baby to be punished.

“Find someone, please promise me-” the babe was pushed into your arms, instincts leading you to cradle the child, and with a purpose thrust upon you, you rose to your feet and balanced tenderly.

“Thank you, Y/N. You,” the omega heaved, desperately fighting for breath, “you’re my family…my sister-”

Hours bled into days, and days had shifted into the next week.

While your heat had come and gone, while you had been marked and mated, you had never let go of the expectation that you would become pregnant. It was what you had been altered to do, to become a vessel for pups to boost the population that was faltering.

Whether it was this reality or the one you had escaped from, the result was the same. Your body and your DNA, your every genome, was geared toward fertility and pregnancy.

Even now, you could feel it.

Even now, only a week after you had been marked and mated, you knew your body was flush with life. You had narily placed your hand upon your belly, still unaffected by your growing child, and knew you were expecting.

If it hadn’t been the nesting you had done when you expressed your anxiety about being a mother, to the empathy of your mates, then this would have been every indication that it had happened.

Your stomach turned once, just once, and your sense of smell had increased with the changes in your body, and you knew. It was obvious, it was painstakingly clear that you were now doing what they had always intended you to do, only now it was by your choice.

Now, you have the decision to keep the child while in a safe and loving environment.

It’s the soft rapping on the door that audibly announces their presence on the other side of the door, but it’s hardly the first indicator that they were going to find you. With your new heightened senses, already increased from the serum before you were pregnant, you already knew.

It was their scent that carried, it was the sounds they made as they walked around and throughout the cabin. It was the soft mumbling of Bucky as he reiterated his annoyance and temporarily forgetting where he put things, and Steve whispering to himself as he sketched or painted.

You could hear it all; you could smell every shifting difference in the cabin.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve was the first to speak, the first to come and sit beside you.

You had negated to look at him immediately. Instead, you curled tighter on the outdoor chaise, tucking the blanket you took up and under your feet. You pressed yourself against the back of the lounger before you tucked your chin into your chest, and then you spoke.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” You spoke to them, addressing Steve verbally, and Bucky physically.

“Are you okay?” Steve was on your right, Bucky was on your left, both had been figuratively shielding you from a nonexistent threat. “Omega-“

“I’m pregnant.” Stagnant silence, unwavering quietude and the bubbling intensifying gleam of hopefulness and want had clashed in the middle, as if two beasts had represented the two sides of an emotional state of mind, with teeth and claws.

“Y/N,” Bucky crept in, a smile bursting on his face with eyes wide and vibrantly pulsing, “omega…this is everything we’ve ever wanted, this…”

Their happiness was unbounded. Their dreams of becoming fathers and having an omega was finally and wholly a completed reality. Puzzle pieces that hadn’t been set had finally clicked into place, with everything they’d wished and longed for becoming theirs.

There was a short time between you three wherein Bucky and Steve had let their raw emotions out to air, their happiness and loving statements settling upon you like the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze of summer.

It was further removing the corrupted chill you felt had been running through your veins, extinguishing the final clutch the organization, that wanted to make you a possession, had on you.

With Steve and Bucky, you were freed. Your baby was safe, your baby would grow up happy and healthy in a world that cherished it.

And you.

“I want this, I’ve decided. I want this baby, but…” you bit down on your bottom lip, teeth digging into your flesh while your eyes had become instructed by fat tears. “You may want to get that.”

The phone rang clear through your ears, a sharp yet melodic chime breaking the conversation, and you waited with bated breath as Steve walked to his phone and picked up the call, eyes locked on you.

“Cap,” Sam’s voice hit your ears, and you knew, “we need you back here.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

My favorite thing my warden says in combat is "Have you no concern for your own existence!?"

She says it in every fight, I love it so much. Every time I replay, Rose needs to have the wise voice, I need to hear her say her battle catchphrase a million times per playthrough.

But my favorite time she's ever said it was when we went back to Ostagar. We've got Rose, Alistair, the mabari, and Wynne all together reliving the trauma of the battle right before we head to the landsmeet. We're actually super close to the end game so tension's high.

We're fighting darkspawn, but uh oh! "Look there--a cunning trap!" over by the stairs!

I rush Rose over there to disarm the trap, only to get interrupted by the last hurlock jumping in my way... and I see Alistair step in the damn thing just as Rose shrieks, "Have you no concern for your own existence!?"

I know in my heart of hearts that she actually said that to him. Alistair cannot stop himself, if there's an obvious bear trap on the floor, my man's gonna step in it.

By the way, I wanna know other people's favorite things their warden says. I know the ladder comment is a popular one for the violent voice, but I wanna hear all the others.

[sunlitmiracle]

smashes my current interest together with my old interest (aka yet another "what Dungeon Meshi but Gamers?" AU)

Once when I was a child I had a complete crying meltdown over Creatures, because the manual insisted that the complicated AI of the Norns made them truly alive and 10-year-old me was freaked out at the idea of being solely responsible for making sure these real animals wouldn't die. The funny part was that this was the Playstation version of Creatures, which has no biochemistry and very basic AI compared to the PC/Mac games where players actually were debating whether or not it was true artificial life. A PSX manual gave me existential dread and it wasn't even telling the truth.

Anyway, kid!Marcille would also have a meltdown over the Creatures series, especially if she had the computer games and got to see how vastly different some breeds' lifespans are. Like in C2 where you have Norns that live for around 5 hours and Norns that live for 10, both of which are vastly more than Ettins who don't even live for 1.5 hours (and usually less due to radiation or starvation).

Lucky for her, having the computer version means she could download modified genomes made by other players that make creatures live longer or even outright remove certain death triggers. However I think she'd have more fun learning to read and edit the genomes herself, to get a better understanding of how the game works and how to change it to suit her own tastes. And because she could pretend she's one of the mysterious ancient Shee who created the Norns, Grendels, and Ettins and then vanished, leaving behind relics of their old society.

(Speaking of Grendels, she would unfortunately dislike them because they're the Designated Evil Species and she'd hate how they harass and attack her Norns. I think she'd also pity them though, because they get sick a lot and have short lifespans. Likely she'd just end up downloading/creating a genome without the aggression towards Norns. Ettins she'd like except for in C3 when they dismantle her meticulously-placed gadget setups, so she might mod out their hoarding compulsions too. Both of them would of course also live for however long her Norns would live.)

Also. While standard creatures' lifespans are counted in hours, if you modify the half-lives in the genome editor you can increase it to centuries. Or even just over a millennium if you set the half-lives to their max length (assuming you also leave the old age death trigger at its vanilla value).

and I like to think that elven Creatures players would pass around copies of what they consider a template genome that's appropriate to their own lifespans. Something that would make their creatures live for weeks or months of continuous play. I also like to think the Creatures DS Warp is still active in this AU because of the hilarious frustration when these long-lived Norns travel to worlds run by short-lived players whose Norns have vanilla lifespans, and vice versa.

(Most of the time in Creatures, offspring of parents with different lifespans will just have one or the other, but there's a chance the genes cross over right in the middle of the various age triggers and cause unstable aging rates. Like a Norn that goes through the childhood stages in hours but then has a very extended adulthood. Or a days-long childhood followed by suddenly dropping dead of old age once the vanilla adulthood genes kick in. Or, if the child has one parent's half-life decay rate and the other parent's age triggers, all sorts of odd things could happen. I once had hybrid Norns who lived for 20 hours and would die of organ failure before reaching the old age threshold!)

(Now that I think of it, Marcille would absolutely hate fast-agers. The first time she watches a creature hatch, turn old, and die in just one brief minute of life, she would be sobbing for days. One of the first things she'd learn to mod out would be mutations that cause the Ageing/Life chemical to decrease unusually fast.)

On a lighter note, while I don't know what her favorite designs would be I think she'd love choosing cute breeds to use in her world. Once she figured out how to give her creatures the comfortable life she wants them to have I can see her redirecting all her gene-editing efforts into changing color expressions. She might even learn to sprite or model her own custom designs.