To the remnants: GO TOUCH GRASS, NOW-!!!

"Oh, dear, you've got a little something…." 

Granny Wen's papery thumb swiped across Wen Ning's cheek, shaking gently from the hand tremors that always plagued her worse, at the end of the day like this. He knew these things from watching: dry skin, trembling fingers. He couldn't feel them. 

Since that night, with the thank-you dinner for Wei-gongzi, the others had let Wen Ning take over most of the cooking. It was a kindness he didn't deserve; one that didn't make sense, considering he didn't need to eat, and couldn't taste anything he cooked even if he did. But he liked it: sitting on the rim of the great fire pit, burying their two precious pots in the coals and turning thin slices of radish over in the cracked pan, carefully so they wouldn't burn. It was meditative, but it kept his mind from going away, like it did sometimes, when he would wake to find his sister tugging at him, face pale with worry, and find he'd been staring into the distance for the past three days as still and silent as—

Well.

And it made people happy. Killing the dangers that stalked them around the edges, the ones like him, didn't make them happy the way that food did, though it kept them safe and it meant he was useful so Wen Ning was glad to do it. Offering up a hot bowl of food, however, as ordinary and repetitive as the ingredients might be, never failed to earn him at least one clap on the shoulder, or a few weary smiles, from exhausted people hungry beyond natural endurance. 

It was a quiet type of pride, not like Wen Ning had wanted to win, before, when he'd been alive and too terrified to shoot in tournaments: but he'd always known he wasn't good enough for that, anyway. This he could do. He could give people full bowls, and keep them coming, until they ran out. And then he would feel terrible, but at least they understood that it wasn't his fault, and he tried even harder the next day to move more boulders and bones to make more ground to grow more food so he could help.

And the other thing was this: like Granny now. Before only A-Jie and Wei-gongzi had touched him (and little A-Yuan sometimes, when they'd let him). That wasn't so different from his life, except that– he never knew when something about how a hand met his dead flesh would make A-Jie bite her lip and turn away to cry, or when Wei-gongzi would go too bright-eyed and talk about all the pretty girls he would introduce Wen Ning to, when they came back to society, as if anyone would ever want Wen Ning like that, now. The other Wens had feared him: that at least he had understood.

Then he had started cooking. The fire pit was deep and wide, and full of ashes; Wen Ning was immune to the heat. He got dirty. A campful of elders, who had lost their grandsons and nephews, descended upon him with clicking tongues.

Granny Wen scrubbed his face. Uncle Two wove him a new pair of sandals, so he could save his big boots for the trek to town and wear something nicer at home, he called it. Uncle Four sat him down and with a razor that mostly wasn't rusted shaved away the few sideways whiskers Wen Ning had managed to grow before his death, there now you look like a proper young master. Auntie Seven stitched him a ribbon for his hair. When he came to her ashamed because his hands were too clumsy, she laughed so kindly and worked out all his tangles, one by one, with her fingers and then (which made Wen Ning want to cry, though he couldn't) the precious heatherwood comb her husband had given her, and tied his hair back for him like he was a child.

.

When he went back, he went to the fire pit, all cold now, but not lacking of ash. He stuck his hands in up to the wrist, and when they were filled with soot enough he smeared them over his face, and he pressed them in as hard as they would go. He still couldn't feel the touch.

mikan: here is a stuffed bear that i don't need anymore because you are here

ryoko: what is this

mikan: his name is monokuma

ryoko: ...uh...okay?

the next day

ryoko, staring up at mechakuma: wait, is this like...is this like a thing

mikan: uh

on remnant: It could also be said that mixing colors, while a very volatile thing to do (and probably rather painful for whoever's in it), would do some interesting things. That being, y'know, one of William's main ideas. Additionally, shades of color are a thing - and colors are all already just different hues of each other by technicality anyways - so multiple people can have similarly colored remnant with different abilities. It may also change with experiences or age given what it is?

Considering that Jeremy and Stan have remnant mixed with their…soul it can be dangerous. Especially if it’s super violent like the funtimes. Thankfully their remnant (especially Jeremy’s) is dormant for the time being.

But you’ll see later in the security breach sequel what happens when you start mixing remnant and making new remnant out of it

The Woods

Randomly very sad about the one off npcs in bg3 who never show up on screen, yrre and lenore

Putting it in the tags cuz it’s long, also Dec 18 tw

Girl who’s stuck in a time loop but doesn’t want to leave because she’s mastered 4 new languages and many new crafts and is having the time of her life just being able to relax without the pressure of modern society. One day she decides to hang out with her friends because it’s been a quite few loops since shes hung out them only to find out she’s now unrecognizable to them and think she’s pulling a bit. Now she has to decide between leaving the comfort and security of the time loop where she can’t have any more meaningful relationships or leaving the loop and having to start over because she can’t possible continue as things were

Also I don't think I've ever mentioned this (which oops my bad) but Fred does exist in the DR AU! He's Freddy's version of Izuru :) Because of course he gets experimented on- no one can have nice things in this AU.

Fred retains his personality from canon, albeit more egotistical. The fact that he's supposed to be the Most Talented Person in The World™ completely got to his head, which made it really easy for Owynn to manipulate him into committing atrocities once he freed him from the basement they kept him in.

remnants of filth / yuwu license announcement

preorders

Wake up babes new remnant is dropping

I feel like I don’t talk about it enough, but Lavinia did try to posses Ballora after she came back from her death in the form of Shadow Bonnie.

However she oozed and dripped out of every part of the metal ballerina. The animatronic not enough to hold a being made of such vast agony and remnant. If asked she’ll ponder it and then describe the experience as trying on a shoe much to small. 

I think how you feel about the post-mortem merch is a good indicator of which stage of the grieving process you’re in, actually.

Ugly crying for the second time while reading and then abruptly finishing book 3 of Remnants of Filth and then looking at the time like i have to get up to go to my bad job tomorrow man how can i do that? The pain? The heartbreak? The struggle to communicate?

How did you come up with the different remnant colors? (Sorry if I spelled anything wrong)

Ima big fan of color symbolism tbh. It’s something I looked into and tried to match with each character.

Like for an example orange, which is Mike’s remnant color, is a relative to red (which is William’s remnant color) but yet orange is more gentler and restrained. It is meant to gain confidence in yourself and always try to inject fun (connecting Mike with Lolbit in a way)

It’s also well the color of fire, and I think that is a good connection to the burial of fire and how most of the souls do come to rest.

i am definitely not the kind of person who can break down a story into its technical beats the whole method of doing this makes no sense to me but it is very interesting to read other ppls breakdowns thereof and i think they are critical to analysis. like the shit i like doing, digging into themes and especially characters relationships to them asking the broader questions of what real world thing is this reflecting or commenting on how successfully does it do so absolutely needs that as a basis imo. it is somewhat useless to say 'this is thematically justified' without first asking 'is this narratively justified'