#such a violent little thing

[dear-mrs-otome]

I love him when he angy 🔪

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[daddysroyalwhore]

“Holy Roller sits in the garden we fled

Blood into wine, take my body instead”

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[willowser]

every single day i think about the influence touya would have had on shouto as an older brother.

he has to take him everywhere he goes, so they're always jamming to the same hardcore music in touya's shitty car. shouto, obviously, develops a taste for the same bands, same songs. shouto is also in the ride-along to buy cigarettes and beer at midnight, and touya threatens his whole entire life if he tells rei, but shouto would never because he likes going too much.

shouto 100% would attempt to kick the ass of anyone that talked shit to his brother. little string bean, doesn't matter, this little boy is throwing HANDS for touya, and touya very much has the attitude of "no one can fuck with my little brother but me". whenever shouto gets in trouble for doing something he shouldn't be doing, touya is always taking the fall for him, no questions asked. shouto lies for touya like it's second nature.

shouto wants an earring because of touya, and touya probably GIVES the piercing to him, which makes enji blow a gasket. touya learns to play the drums and then shouto wants to, too — though he ends up being better than touya and touya promptly quits after that. touya teaches him to drive. shouto gets drunk for the first time with touya BECAUSE touya wants to be there to take care of him. they hate each other, they get into fist fights all the time, rolling around the house as fuyumi screams at both of them. they're best friends. they understand each other more than anyone else ever could.

[feroluce]

So I'm well aware this is probably a case of "it isn't that deep" but I love looking at all the fiddly little accessories and bits and bobs of Hoyo designs and trying to justify them. Sampo's is particularly funny, because. What even is all that dkkxjdkd

His outfit has so many straps wrapped around him, like they're restraining or holding something in to keep it from bursting at the seams, and not all of them look like they're even connected to anything! But I'd like to think they are useful in certain situations, like if Sampo takes a hit out in the Fragmentum from one of the monsters.

He's hurt, his arm is bleeding, but he is ALMOST done, he just needs a couple more things to fulfill his quota to Natasha and he doesn't want to turn around and go back now. So Sampo frees a strap from his shirt, winds it around his arm above the cut, pulls it tight with his free hand and his teeth. He'll treat it properly in a minute, once he's done scavenging.

There's also the strange chains that resemble snake spines. Given how they're way longer in his splash art and the way they wind around-

I'd like to think they can extend somehow, and Sampo can use them to scale heights. Firefly clocks him as a covert fighter without even being within 20 feet of him, so it would make sense for Sampo to have ways to get around that don't involve usual/obvious methods, like stairs. Think assassin skill sets.

He's also the only one known to be able to get between the Underground and the overworld, and while he's pretty tight-lipped about his method, having some sort of device to help traverse vertical heights is probably insanely helpful there.

And the little metal ornaments across the backs of his wrists! You can see it a bit better in his reference sheet (everyone say thanks @/dragaliareferencearchive!) as opposed to his splash art-

they aren't flat, they stick up a bit off his arms. And so I wonder if Gepard has ever gone to arrest Sampo, and found that they interfere with his handcuffs haha

The ornaments don't match, the one on his right wrist is actually shorter and doesn't extend down to the back of his hand. Which probably doesn't make it nearly as annoying for handcuffs as the left one, but it would make sense for Sampo to have them like that, since he seems to be right-handed! I think a certain proficiency in being ambidextrous is necessary to dual wield daggers like he does, but. Sampo uses his right hand to

hold his blade in his splash art

throw his blade in his skill

play/show off with his dagger in his idle

lob smoke bombs in his technique

cross over his heart when he bows

and to flip his bangs during the cutscene where he saves the trailblazers from Bronya

So a shorter guard on his right hand would help him keep his wrist's flexibility to be able to do all that unimpeded (loving the thought now that Sampo is naturally right-handed and still better with it, but he practiced constantly with his left until he could do things passably ambidextrous).

I also love them because I wonder if they're in the perfect place to help block a hit, along with the chain wrapped around his left forearm.

Like I love the image of a hired killer soundlessly sneaking up behind Sampo in some shady dark alley, knife sloooooowly raising, and then all at once, they strike!

And instead of feeling the blade sink into his back, they get the unpleasant resonating of metal-on-metal shivering up their arm and rattling their bones, because Sampo has turned around at the last second and raised his crossed his arms to let the knife glance off the guards on his wrists.

And the mercenary is left to realize that oh, they are fucked.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 92

Part 1 Part 91

Eddie laugh cuts off with a snotty scoff directed toward Carol when she’d immediately walked to the thermostat to crank it up. Eddie’s face is a mess of blood and bruising, and he’s listing slightly as he walks. Will wants to grab the phone and call for an ambulance. Have all the doctors in their white coats scan Eddie’s brain for damage, his knuckles for breaks.

He clutches Steve tighter into his side, and stares at Carol as she whirls toward Eddie, brow furrowed as she mutters out a tired, “what?”

Her face is just as bruised and swollen, but there’s no blood clotting along her hairline or pouring out of her nose. And her steps are steady as she moves through the house.

The years of friendship and history trail her every movement in this house. The way she fished the key out of its hiding spot, the way she works the Harrington’s fancy thermostat with minimal fiddling. The way she moves with such purpose, like she knows every spot the floorboard creaks and what every cupboard contains.

It makes Will ache somewhere deep, where Mike and Dustin and Lucas live within him.

Did Steve and Carol have sleepovers, performing late-night missions for forbidden snacks and risky science experiments? Did they grow together, here in the Harrington’s empty mausoleum – elementary, to middle, to high school – chained at the hip until the chain snapped?

Will knows Steve in the way he’s a sword and shield. In the way his words take shape, and his body holds space. But he doesn’t know what haunts him through rooms, trailing behind like a ghost he can’t shake.

He knows the shape of his parents, looming in unreturned calls from hospital rooms, and the way sometimes other high schoolers will walk up to Steve around town, clapping his shoulder and shaking his hand like he’s someone they recognize, even while Steve’s smiles turns fixed and blank.

He knows what he’s observed from the edges of ghosts Steve hasn’t been able to hide.

Will wants desperately to know what’s knocking around inside Steve’s head.

They’ll get him back, so Will can ask.

“You really think that’s going to be enough?” Eddie asks, scowling at Carol with crossed arms.

Carol hits the button a few more times before turning back toward Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “What would you suggest?” She says it calmly, sweetly, but Will’s known enough scary people to see the murderous intent in her eyes.

“We run him a bath!”

Carol scoffs. Apparently, they’re trading them back and forth. “You think that’ll be hot enough?”

“The Harrington’s heat their pool in the winter. I should know, I got dragged into Hell through it!” Eddie gestures expansively at the closed blinds blocking their view of the pool.

“What are you—”

“I think they’re boiler can handle a measly bathtub!”

His Mom chimes in agreeing with Eddie’s plan, but Will barely notices. He stares out at the pool past the closed blinds, trying to capture the scene. The Demogorgon getting it’s claws into Eddie and dragging him through the pool. Steve, ever the hero, jumping in after to save his friend.

Had the chlorine burned? Had they been scared?

Will pulls their connection into himself, desperate to feel their liveliness pulling back. Eddie whips his head around, meets his eyes as he tugs back. Steve doesn’t stir at all.

He’s docile at Will’s side, something else holding Steve’s body upright as he’s trapped in his head. It should be a relief, not to have to lug Steve’s weight up the stairs, but it’s not.

Will wants him to settle his hand on one of Will’s shoulders, let go of some of the burden, show he’s still a person somewhere in there, with limits and needs.

But he goes where Barbara and Will prompt him, nudging him forward with a branding hand on his

“How are we going to keep the headphones and blindfold dry?” Carol demands, but she’s following closely behind, hand brushing Will’s side every now and then, like she’s got her palms raised to catch Steve if he stumbles.

“How hard do you think it’ll be to keep his head above water?” Eddie calls from a few steps above,  not turning around but shaking his head hard enough that his frizzy curls fly around, almost smacking them in the face. “Babies manage it.”

Carol doesn’t reply, but when they reach the second floor, she shoves past them all to lead down the hall, past the plaid bedroom where they’d found Steve curled up in his closet last time.

The room she leads them could fit the Byers entire living room and kitchen in it. It’s large and airy, but empty aside from a soulless painting of a cityscape across from the largest bed Will’s ever seen and a chest of drawers with nothing but a vase and a bouquet of fake flowers arranged atop it.

Will stops for a second, gaping around at the lifeless husk passing as living quarters until his Mom clasps his shoulder, pushing him along.

Carol leads them to a bathroom. It’s sterile and white, lighting like a hospital, tub large and deep enough to fit three grown men.

Will stops, staring down at the empty tub, bubbling with trepidation.

Steve’s vulnerable, possessed, and vacant, and now they’re, what? Throwing him into the fire?

This house is already so vast and empty, swallowing Steve back up like it’s been starving for him since he left. Should they do this here, of all places?

Will’s hesitation doesn’t stop anything. Steve’s placid enough that Barbara can lead him on her own. Once she reaches the lip of the tub, she leads Steve’s foot up and over the lip, settling it in. He follows with the other on his own, foot raised at the exact same height before he lowers it to join the other.

Once both feet are in the tub, Barbara pushes on his shoulders, urging him down in the bath, fully clothed.

Eddie’s shuffled up beside Barbara, reaching into Steve’s pocket and fishing Jonathan’s Walkman out, setting it gently on the porcelain tile below the tub. The headphone chord stretches taught, but the jack stays firmly in the port, just barely reaching its destination.

Carol reaches around Barbara, hand on her shoulder to keep steady as she reaches down to stopper the tub. Eddie reaches down, hands on Steve’s shoulders as he pushes him down until he’s prone, head propped up on the lip of the tub to keep the headphones and blindfold dry and in place.

“I’ve got you, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, but his voice carries in the confines of the bathroom. “You’ll be just fine.”

Everyone stares down at them for a moment, stalled at the threshold. Steve’s skin’s turning pink where Eddie’s hands are still holding Steve’s shoulders, pushing down with force, like he’s a mother getting ready to drown her young.

What will the hot water do to his skin?

It’s Mom that moves first. She turns the knob of the tub as high as it will go, and water cascades down.

It only takes a moment for the steaming water to reach Steve’s feet. He gasps, curling his feet into his ribs until he’s in the fetal position.

Eddie just keeps holding him there, whispering things into Steve’s ear that Will can no longer hear over the sound of the water filling the tub and Steve’s own whining gasps.

Everyone else stares, watching his skin turn a vibrant pink, darkening to red as it crawls up the back of his calves.

It’s not until the water starts raising, engulfing his back and ribs that the screaming starts. It’s guttural and loud, deep in Steve’s throat. It’s reverberating, like static from a misfiring radio, echoing strangely off the walls of the bathroom.

It sounds wrong, like nails on a chalkboard. Like the Demogorgon, screeching before it devours its prey. Like the Demodogs howls echoing from beneath the earth.

Something not Steve is calling out its pain from within him. Will hopes, fervently and with all he is, that Steve’s untouched somewhere in there.

Steve jackknifes up, back lurching out of the bathwater as Eddie does all he can to keep him down. Will rushes forward, dropping to his knees hard enough on the stone tile floor that he feels the reverberations all the way through his teeth. He sinks his own hands into the hot bath beside everyone else’s, pushing him back down.

Even with all their hands pushing, it’s a struggle to keep him under. Steve thrashes his head back and forth, Jonathan’s headphones falling off into the water and floating away on the waves made by his struggle.

Eddie’s sobbing, open and loud, tears trailing down his bloody nose and dripping saltwater and blood onto Steve’s own face.

They trail down Steve’s own cheeks, leaving bloody tears that look as if they’re leaking from his own eyes.

It reminds Will of the one time he’d gone to church with Mike, Christ on the cross, dripping tears and blood, a martyr of his own making as he slowly died.

Steve’s been dying by inches. Will latches onto their connection and yanks. Like he can pull him free from all that smoke, off the cross, into the boiling tub.

Beside him, Will feels Eddie doing the same, still weeping. He’s not pushing Steve into the water anymore, the rest of them strain harder against Steve’s thrashing to make up for it.

Eddie’s cupping Steve’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks like claws, opening scratches that mix with the blood already dripping down his face. “Get the fuck out of him,” he snarls, digging his nails in harder. “Do you hear me?”

“Is it working?” Carol demands, breathless with strain.

No one answers. The bathroom is growing hot even for them. It’s filling with steam and sweat and screams. It’s suffocating. Will wants to flee. To curl into the fetal position and wait for Steve to come back. His Steve. Not this thing.

But then he feels Steve pull back. It’s fluttering against Will’s ribs, like a caged bird straining against its constraints. Feathers flying until it’s free.

Eddie gasps, hand slapping against Steve’s face hard enough that the sound of skin against skin echoes even past Steve’s continued screams.

“It’s working!” Eddie cries.  

Will pushes harder against Steve as his thrashing grows stronger, more desperate.

The tubs full now, overflowing and flooding into the bathroom. Only Eddie’s iron-clad grip on Steve’s face is keeping him out of the water and breathing.

“Not fast enough,” Carol says, voice gravely like her throats all clogged up. “Aren’t you the one that said that the little punk girl doing whatever she’s doing could hurt him?”

“What do you want me to do?” Eddie demands shrilly. He’s leaning forward so far over the tub that his hair’s trailing into it, ends wet.

Will wants to tie it up in a ponytail for him the way he does for Mom sometimes when her hands are wet with dish soap. But then Carol lets go of Steve, storming out of the bathroom with a frustrating shriek down low in her throat, and Will’s got other priorities.

“Shit, hold him, hold him!” Barbara calls, and all three of them press down hard, Eddie fighting against them with his clutching hands.

Steve’s still screaming, and crying, and flailing. He doesn’t know it yet, but his oldest friend just walked out on him, just like his parents and every other friend besides those crouched over him now.

It's going to hurt, once he’s back.

Steve’s flailing more now, like that thing inside him can sense the weakness in their ranks.

Will stays and holds his friend down as he shakes. It’s not a surprise when he shakes them free, sending everyone sprawling down onto the wet tile with a splash.

It is a surprise when the first thing Steve does is lunge forward to wrap his hand around Will’s throat and squeeze.

Will gasps, fingernails raking against the back of Steve’s hands where it’s choking him. Around them, everyone screams. 

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary

Part 93

[philzokman]

everytime bones erases an incredibly important scene/detail i sob knowing danny motta will never know what was truly intended😔🙏🙏

[syrupyyyart]

aaa fuck it. Deciding to put the motley webtoon on permanent hiatus and focus 100% on the cartoon, which is coming along soooo cute. I like storyboarding these characters a lot!

In lieu of big chapter drops, @askmotley will be getting much more frequent updates! New post later this week :)

Here's a little itty bitty wip clip.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

headcanon that once the kids encountered an actual real moose in the forest, and Kingsley, trying to break the tension because Cole was two seconds away from having a panic attack, was like “haha Perrine communicate with it!”

meanwhile Perrine is absolutely shitting her britches in terror because that’s a goddamn moose

[tetrakarn]

pulling myself briefly out of the depression pit to say i don't think it's fair to say ivan is outright violent towards till or shows his affection through violence bc in every piece of media that shows them fighting ( that i can find at least ) till always turns things physical first

not that ivan doesn't instigate by doing or saying things that might provoke him ( intentionally or otherwise ) but aside from touching till's injury in one of the r6 flashbacks he doesn't seem to be physically hurting him for attention. i think the fight scene in r6 is also the only time we've even seen him retaliate

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

wormie wormie wormie wormi-

[mollysunder]

The parallel between the first and second posters is so insane. In the first poster we see a young Vi holding a young Jinx in her arms try to comfort and protect her from the world's harshness. But Jinx is too big for Vi to completely hide her face away from the light of the world. Yet the light itself doesn't feel sinister and Jinx looks at it and us in wonder.

While the next poster is nearly completely opposite in mood. Instead of a deep bear hug where Vi's warm red tones in color attempt envelope Jinx in comfort, Jinx and the cool tones in her hair, nails, and even skin are caging Vi in place. There is no illusion of comfort, in fact there's not even an attempt, because we see Jinx's face, a harsh and almost knowing grimace at what she's doing.

Jinx is forcing Vi to see the world as she did when she was younger. But instead of the curiosity and wonder at the world in its light, Vi is horrified of it, of us. This light is bringing Vi to tears, and that's how we know instead of embrace it like Jinx did, Vi will thrash against it.

[whompingwillowshire]

In fourth wing, Dylan says “plus I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than other quadrants”

“True. Right after graduation.”

…is Rebecca setting up Xaden and Violet to get married in the third book??

[lesbianfakir]

I need them to release the secret princess tutu gore director’s cut. I need to see 6 year old fakir soaked in his parents’ blood, standing amongst the viscera that’s strewn across the floor. How long did it take to scrub the blood off his skin? I need to see him weeping as he holds broken, bloody Duck to his chest and is reminded, for the first time in years, what it feels like to have someone else’s blood on his hands.

[junkissed]

need to ride jun's abs so bad this isn't funny anymore . 💤

i soooo get you but also... what if you were riding jun's cock and right before you're about to cum he lifts your hips off of him and ruins your orgasm and instead makes you ride his abs and you have to cum from that before he'll let you have his cock again. honestly i think he would be just as into ab riding as you are, if not more (and trust me i am very into ab riding). it gives him a rush knowing you can easily get off merely by grinding against his stomach. he would hold onto your hips so tightly and drag your pussy back and forth, making sure your clit touches every single ridge of his toned abs. he would tense the muscles so it would give you something nice and hard to grind against and the entire time he would be praising you at how well you ride him (but also at the same time lowkey bragging about how good his abs are; we've seen his lives lolol and we know he loves to tease us about his abs). "does that feel good, sweetheart? which do you like more, riding my abs or riding my cock? silly question- i know it's a tough choice, baby. you want both. and i'll let you have both, if you keep being such a good girl and cum all over my abs. then you can have my cock, hm?" and then when you do finally cum, he'd make you move so you can see the trail of wetness you've left all over his body and he'd coo about how you're always so wet and beautiful and desperate for him. and only then he would let you ride his cock again