#the knife in the heart is real

[designernishiki]

it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now

[xekstrin]

How long ago was it that I said Lappland is the kind of girl who tries to get through your heart with food. I WAS RIGHT. She’s giving Texas treats and goodies every time she sees her.

[gendrie]

"Who are you?" he would ask her every day. "No one," she would answer, she who had been Arya of House Stark, Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface. She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal . . . but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once had brothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, a half brother named Jon Snow. In there she was someone . . . but that was not the answer that he wanted.

[starrysharks]

next design thingy i want to do is like. a guts and organs rock band. rn i got:

drums is like a spunky heart/circulatory system girl because i personally think the drums are the beating heart of a band. also beating heart? like drum beat? maybe heartstrings for a guitarist would've been easier but i like to be a little weird, a little quirky, a little freak, etc

bassist is um. the spine/nervous system in general. because the bass has a long neck like how spines are long you gets? maybe her bass can be spine shaped

guitarist? the stomach/digestion system. bear with me here. the stomach has acid in it. acid conducts electricity. electric guitar. you gets? i would've gone with the nervous system but that's taken. maybe they could be a foodie or something

keyboard - lungs/respiratory system. the ribs are kind of shaped like a keyboard, i'm just pulling shit out of my ass here to be honest with you guys...

lead vocal - SKELETON!!! specifically the skull should be the most present in their character design. they hold everyone together and lead the band.

idk if i'll take this idea anywhere this is just brainstorming i did on the bus to be frank with you. maybe their manager is the endocrine system, and they could have a rival band of bacteria pop idols? who nose. this is a sort of thing that i think would be cute as a hypothetical cartoon (like how spectre city online is a hypothetical virtual world, NO i haven't forgotten about SCO, i'm just busy as fuck), but if i do make them properly i'll prob start out with mini comics.

[littencloud9]

who was gonna tell me the armory had two sides to upgrade AND THAT GIN APPEARS!!! HIGUGIN WINS

[agenttexsflippedshit]

I have this thing that happens with longer personal writing projects where I go, “what would the query letter to an agent look like” - partially bc I’m a creature of habit and want to publish everything, partially because fits about focusing on the through line and can help me figure out the core of the project.

And right now it’s very much like, why should anyone care about my lil guys? What are their journeys and what is compelling enough to encourage people to go beyond the first paragraph, let alone the first page?

Which in turn leads to the question of like, why am I compelled by these stupid guys?

And honestly, it’s because I sat them down and gave them my issues and pushed them to the point of absurdity and said “go live with that for a while and get back to me” and now they’re fucked up in some pretty fun ways and I like writing about the hopes and fears that it inspires

But I’m still like, questioning why anyone else would care about this, beyond the queer rep

[weeklyschoolart]

Chara - Just a kid.

[lighthouseborn]

  Henry’s relationship with his dreams veered in a similar pattern to his ongoing battle with his impulses. Some days he managed them well, and never so much as flicked a little piece of paper at his friend while they were talking. Others, he jumped into the channel even though there were drifts of snow two feet tall upon the bank. And so, some nights he thought nothing of them. They came as vivid parades of nonsense, and turned to naught but smoke or the vague sense of seeing an old friend when he woke. Others he sank straight to the far edges of pain.

  Agony, maybe, was the better word for it. (If he wasn’t saving that one for something that truly seemed it could get no worse.) All-encompassing for the way it bubbled out of him, pulling out of the very middle of him, where it teetered on the brink of ripping something vital right out. It’s the first and only thing to exist, like it was waiting for him. Then he heard her.

  “Henry! Henry!” dotted with high whines and the patter of paws on the ground. Lektra.

  He discovered himself, then, laying face down on cold, smooth stone. The fabricated kind, devoid of any natural character or merit. It was just hard. Cold. Henry, driven by his dæmon’s anxious fussing, found it I himself to lift his head and open his eyes. The sight forced understanding.

  Steel bars surrounded him, and the heart of his heart was some number of meters away, similarly caged, pacing and whining. Some sort of amphitheater surrounded them, equipped to seat hundreds, though for what purpose he could not imagine. It did not matter at all- he focused on pushing himself up onto his arms. Dragging himself forward. Pressing himself at the gaps between the bars as if there was any hope at all of fitting through them. Even with his shoulder as far out between the bars as he could get it, reaching toward her, they were too far apart. The pain eased only as far as resetting a broken bone put it a millimeter closer to rightness, but did not undo the harm; the idea –the feeling– of a cord pulled nearly to breaking remained.

  Any further from each other and it’d tear.

  “We’re alright,” he said anyhow, voice echoing across the empty void between them, “hey- hey. It’s alright.” Lektra whined again, but stopped pacing. The bars surrounding her were the same as his, as thick around as to squelch all notions of bending them even with the strongest of arms, only lined with a double layer of mesh sealed to the metal, as if expecting the chance of smaller occupants who might slip through the thicker gaps. Henry got the sense that she would have pressed herself against it, fur poking through the little holes, except that would mean she was unable to keep both eyes on him. His eyes welled. He sniffed sharply and reached as far as he could, fingers straining toward her. We’ll be alright.

  From the shadows at the edge of the empty plain stepped a woman. She wore dark robes and darker makeup, her body concealed and her face painted into a mask of sorrow so great it seemed mocking. The eyes were too down turned, the mouth twisted and wild. She approached the middle of everything. Not quickly, but not tarrying. Dutiful, one might say. When she stood just before the imaginary line Henry had reached out along, the one drawing him to Lektra, the woman stopped. She looked at Henry. Her pale eyes were like the stone beneath him. She looked to Lektra. The dæmon ducked down, her head well below her shoulders.

  In a flourish of sleeves rustling and whipping through the air, the woman produced a blade. She held it high aloft, so that the light caught its edge, making it ripple like silver fire. The sight of it alone instilled in Henry a sense of dread so visceral he flinched. Across from him, so far away, Elektryona bared her teeth in a silent snarl. She liked it even less than he did. But why? It was only a little knife, why should they fear it so? But the question did not come to mouth, or reach the air.

  The woman began to speak in a language that had no words. The sounds twisted and danced like hurricane winds, ripping through the air, howling and moaning in shapes that were almost familiar. That Henry almost believed he understood, if he could just listen a little better, but the effort escaped him. Like he’d forgotten how. The woman swayed as she spoke, the long tendrils of her dark hair brushing the ground. Then she stopped. Stopped swaying, stopped speaking. She even seemed to stop breathing. She slowly extended her arm, the knife gripped just-so, and drew the blade down… and down… she stopped at a height roughly around what would be the lowest of Henry's ribs when he was standing. Then, in the air between Henry and Lektra, she made a cutting motion.

  Henry almost laughed. It was such a strange act of pantomime so far from anything flesh and blood, so mundane after the sense of arcane profanity her formless speech and wild swaying brought on. Then he felt it catch.

  So small. Like the barest of misses while learning to cook with his mother, a little too eager at cutting root vegetables for the first time with young, unpracticed hands. So brief. So shallow. And yet this ran all through him in shudder, jarring loose a soft cry of shock and fear. Worst of all was the yelp that sounded in exactly the same moment as Henry’s cry. Their eyes met: soul and body staring in turn at all that belonged to them. Then the woman gestured again, and this time struck true, sawing at the bond stretched thin between them.

  A cry of anguish split the air. Elektryona howled.

  Henry surfaced with the same lack of effort it had taken him to sink. One moment here, the next there; now back again with all due confusion as to where he truly was and how he’d gotten there. The only clear thing, in this new place where he lay on his back instead of his front, was the weight of a wiggly, furry body on his chest, wedging herself under his arms.

  “I tried to wake you.”

  He lifted his arms enough to let her near, paws poking into his shoulder and elbows sharp against his ribs. Her golden fur felt like silk under his hands. No bars or mesh between them.

  “I heard you,” Henry said, “I heard. I just- I didn’t know that’s.. what it was.” The only bit of speaking that had made any sense: Elektryona calling to him. His answer.

  “We’re alright,” she promised, pushing her nose up alongside his cheek. She licked at the tears sliding back across his temples.

  Henry could not respond. He was thinking, still, of silver flame blades and heart-rending howls. It was a noise he’d never heard her make before or since. Perhaps because it matched that and only that feeling.

  Being torn apart.

  He drew her tightly to his chest. Counter-intuitively, the crush made it easier to breathe.

[killuaisaprincess]

SWEETEST LITTLE CUTEST BABEY

[astersugar]

"What's with this guy?? Is this really what I was like?"

hi go read @undercoversleepover's fic Through the Mirror for great stuff completely unlike what's depicted in this comic of AU!Loid x Loid

[the-knife-in-my-heart]

it's really sad

when everything you thought was stable

crashes

everything you thought would take the sadness

really only made it deeper

- NF, i miss the days

[theinfinitedivides]

Do Sik: *tries to kill Woo Hyul in the same alleyway said vampire had his fight with Man Hwi*

In Hae: *appears out of what is basically thin air in that alleyway with no warning whatsoever*

In Hae: Woo Hyul?

Do Sik and Woo Hyul:

[silly-geese-united]

dr stein :3

x - x - x // x - stein - x // x - x - x

[lazarusweptt]

" you know ,

i don't have the best luck

in the girlfriend department.... "

ft: @ofchaoticminds & @ofuntamedhearts

[daggery]

inej ghafa

[bee-boppin]

New page new page I'm sooo happy with this one, first time ever painting with only a palette knife!! Inspirations include the color red and the song "Seaside" by Whale Bones ♥️