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#who actually reads my tags anyway?
lyrichi · 2 months
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[the bros are all fighting in the background]
mc, watching and eating one of those vero mango lollipops:
solomon, sitting next to them: what did you do to make them all fight like that?
mc: I said I had a favorite
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bitegore · 6 months
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Zionists want you to conflate Judaism and Zionism. Zionists want you to believe that Judaism cannot exist without Zionism and that all Jews are Zionists. Zionism would have Jews believe that a Jewish state is the only way that they can be safe from antisemitism and will point to any instance of antisemitism as proof that Zionism is the solution- so Zionism wants gentiles to be antisemitic in their support of Palestine. They want you to conflate all Jews with Zionism and the state of Israel, and they want you to treat all Jews regardless of political affiliation as the face of Israel. Antizionist Jews exist, and incidences of antisemitism ostensibly acting against Zionism will not help dismantle the forces propping Zionism up.
Don't do their work for them.
#red rambles#viva palestina#antizionism#i haven't actually seen a lot of antisemitism personally. not recently anyway. but that's more a feature of me not following antisemites#i DO however see a lot of people talking about the people they're seeing throw their support behind antisemites using palestine#as an excuse to conflate all jews with israel#and i cannot stress enough that that is literally what israel and zionist forces abroad WANT.#i am jewish. my entire family is jewish. i want to see palestine free. and i have SEEN how the jewish community gets conflated with israel#both from the inside and out#and i am dead serious when i say that every time someone is antisemitic it strengthens the conviction from people abroad#that it's a terrible sad situation but there's 'no other choice'#if you're being antisemitic you are doing the enemy's work for them. Stop it.#like... look. i am putting this in the tags bc im talking in the tags but i mean this. I do not give a single flying fuck if you personally#are a giant raging antisemite at the moment. Your personal beliefs are your problem and not mine. I do not fucking care. But if you are#being openly and loudly antisemitic *in your support of palestine* you are absolutely not fucking helping. I am so dead serious right now#if you want to raise awareness and you're being antisemitic because of deep held beliefs or whatever i want you to look around and read the#fucking room. Do you understand how much of Israel's international support comes from the idea that they are the only country where jews ar#safe from antisemitism? do you see how every time palestine comes up people point at incidences of antisemitism in anti-genocide actions to#discredit the entire movement? do you not understand how your actions are cutting the movement down at the knees?#i'm jewish and proud of it. i don't like antisemitism. but there's a genocide on and i'd rather work against it than quibble over who i#work alongside. i dont fucking care. you can be as antisemitic as you like in private. stop fucking the movement up.#there are bigger things to worry about here. if i can put aside my own concerns as to who i'm talking to you can hold your tongue#and fight the good fight instead of handing weapons to the people who are trying to fucking flatten gaza.
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lovesickeros · 9 months
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☆ even the gods bleed
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k
What was justice?
Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.
She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.
How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?
She does not know.
Perhaps she may never know.
What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.
It is a mockery of it.
She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.
The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.
Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.
For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.
Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.
She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.
She understands, now.
She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.
Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.
Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.
But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..
..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.
Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.
Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.
The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.
Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.
What does she have left to lose?
She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.
Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.
Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.
Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.
Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.
..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.
Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.
Probably.
Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.
Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.
Then again, neither was treason.
Well, first time for everything, right?
It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.
..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.
She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.
But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.
..How was she going to prove it?
An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.
And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!
After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.
The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.
She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.
"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.
She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.
"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.
"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"
She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.
"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"
Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.
To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.
Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.
She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.
The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.
"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."
She does not hesitate to agree.
"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"
He doesn't deign to respond.
It only makes her fume more.
Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.
"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.
She suddenly felt out of place.
..What was she supposed to be doing?
As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..
"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."
Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.
Neuvillette, for his part..
Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.
He cannot hear the rain, anymore.
..It must have stopped.
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thatdeadaquarius · 3 months
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I have a random idea for some sagau crack loosely based on my dynamic with my friend so Im giving it to you because I have been enjoying your sagau language stuff :D
Imagine there are two readers that are two different people. Like, not as in clones they are just two separate people that are rlly good friends on earth. They both really like genshin and play the game, and they both have self aware teyvat citizens. Reader 1 is a whale. They invest a l o t of money on the game, have all the characters, and all the characters have five star weapons. They are like the usual sagau reader you see. They have used up so much money on getting all of the characters, and I mean A L L of them, best weapons, constellations and put a lot of care into it. The place where they really get to show off is their knowledge and love for the lore, and are really invested into it and read all of the artifact descriptions and books. They know about primordial one, the four shining shades, random useless facts about items and often rant to reader 2 about their theories. Their quest bar is always empty because they did them to check out the lore of the game, and are always searching for more lore. They basically play everyday and are always reacting and talking to the characters out loud, unaware that they can hear them.
Meanwhile, Reader 2 is a f2p who is only interested in the archon quest lore and the lore of their fav characters. Because they are f2p, their options are limited so there is some blatant favoritism. They choose their fav character to save up for, and then pull for them. After they get the character they want, they will no longer pull and save up from there. Because of this, they only have like 5 five stars and only have zero five star weapon. Their favourite character is their main(*cough* wanderer *cough*), and unlike reader 1 who uses all of their characters regularly, reader 2 sticks to this character for most of their gameplay unless they need to use someone else. However, reader 2 takes almost an entire month to finish building a character, because they go overboard with the artifact stats. You would expect to normally have a 50 180 crit ratio, but reader 2’s dps characters always, and I mean ALWAYS have 50 200 crit ratio or more. Like, their main (it doesnt have to be wanderer but Im putting him here anyways) has 70 and 200 crit ratio, is crowned, full 4 pc best in slot, and is even crowned and faruzan only needs like 200 er but reader 2 gave them 300. (Im totally not putting this here because this is what I did/j) Reader 2 is also the type to never speak while gaming, so the first time they spoke everyone turned it into a national holiday to be celebrated. They also play a lot less than player 1. Player 1 plays everyday while player 2 plays for a month straight and then takes a long break to wait for the content to pile up.
So these two gremlin besties are always speaking with each other, and are always on coop. Whenever player 1 needs help making team comps or building characters, they just ask player 2 for help. And whenever player 2 needs help understanding the lore of the game, they ask player 1. But all I can think abt is the first time they cooped. Imagine player 1 was using childe and then when the coop starts, both childe and wanderer are very confused as to wtf is going on. Like, childe is confused because he sensed a strange aura coming form them like whenever someone gets controlled by reader 1, and wanderer is confused because reader 2 seemed so excited that they were talking, but its just childe? Reader 2 always skips childe’s banners.
Thats it lol, hope this wasnt too long.
Not long at all! Or more like, I like long asks so feel free to share! :D
IM SO SORRY ITS LIKE MONTHS LATER TO GET TO YOU I PROMISE I LOVE UR STUFF AND AM SUPER EXCITED TO SEE IT,
IM JUST SLOW AND GOOFY 😭😭
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Said friends in genshin like: ^^^
this kinda inspires me/reminds me of @mists-reading-nook soldier/poet/king post, you should check xe stuff!! Gave me brainrot to this day tbh, like im imaging how that “3rd King style of worship” would look like even now lmao ive been down bad 😭
Sun: 2 Readers! (as desc. above), (you/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: wanderer/childe, mentions of others i forgot to focus on any one character or nation :/
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing language, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
dual symbolism everywhere, obv you both thought “for the twins” but it just kept getting out of hand the more the game updated over the months lol
like shrines/temples/churches showing up more often in new countries/areas and always identifying the same 2 gods
obv the for-the-lore player picked up on it first, and by the time the trickle-down effect happened, where characters/NPCs were outright talking about these gods, the 2nd was asking the lore knower to explain lol
the 2 gods kept getting referred to by a few names, like “The Soldier and the Scholar” or “The Sage and the Warrior” or “The Keeper and the Pursuer” etc.
after awhile of comparing both of your games, you realize that some vision users/gods tend to use the soldier/warrior/pursuer titles more often when talking about one of you, and the other gets the sage/scholar/keeper more often
u both get excited, maybe its bc you chose diff travelers or some other reason, but when u try and post abt it or otherwise ask other players u get a lot of negatives/”hasnt happened for me”s??
u both just think the games glitched or some dev is playing a prank on you two maybe,
it gets weirder when u both realize the lore player be over here getting random gifts from all the characters in the mail all the time
and just as grinding players like “ :’( my favs don't like me?? but they have the best artifacts and maxed friendship levels..”
they get flooded with multiple gifts from their main characters, most of which benefit the grind tbh lmao (like a bunch of cheaper materials or crystals to level up artifacts/weapons or to ascend that character = no more slaughtering every samurai on sight for their handguards or collected a fuckton of those blue layered mushrooms for wanderer)
god u were both grateful to this glitch ngl, it saved a lot of dumb misc tasks and was just a nice touch
no but the amount of confusion inside the game from when u first started playing together, like each of ur games began with stuff abt 1 god, then as u co-oped moved onto 2 gods (like said at the beginning)
the lore player is blabbing away like you do, which begins to be heard by the other player’s game world
like it starts as whispers in battle, then all the time, then a quiet convo in the background all the time, until they can just hear u out of earshot esp word for word when they focus!! at first the vision-users/gods got all excited bc their god was speaking!! finally!!! until I'm sure they heard narration that didn't fit/it was there sometimes even when their god’s presence wasn't?/voice sounded “off” to them/didnt fit their god…??
ok ik u were joking abt the national holiday,,, but I’m not. 😈
THE FIRST WORDS 2ND SPOKE BEING IN A PROPHECY, REGARDLESS OF WHAT IT IS THEY SAY.
Player 1, playing as Childe, steals a singular (1) sweet flower from Player 2, who has Wanderer out:
P2: “I seriously hate you. Listen to what I’m saying, I can’t stand you.”
(Wanderer panicking that its abt him- Childe freezing bc he managed to piss off a god that feels as powerful as his own- the PROPHECY LMAO- )
P1: “… you miss me.”
(everyone else: 💥vine boom sound 💥😦😨😰???)
P2: “I hate you.”
P1: “You miss me and you love me, why must we fight??”
(everyone else: 💥vine boom again💥🤨🫠??…)
P2: “I hate you-”
P1: “-we gotta good thing going on, you and I, why must we tussle??”
(everyone else: 💥yet another vine boom💥 💀💀)
(the absolute deep anxiety/pure confusion as the two harbingers heads just ping pong back and forth towards the voices lmao)
u two scare the shit out of any characters u do this with lol
they do get used to it as u talk, and the characters even manage to interact (thru hacking magical shenanigans and discord)
to send thank you gifts to player 1 for getting player 2 to talk more lol
along with sending copies of any lore books that player 2 has gotten that player 1 hasn't!
and it becomes common/tradition to exchange gifts like this to thank or appreciate the other god, like player 1 characters sending thank you gift copies of rare materials or ascension stuff that player 1 had that player 2 didn't (esp making sure to send during resinless hours lmao)
overall, 10/10, whats better than 1 god that plays one way? 2 gods that compensate for each other and now u have 2x the worshippers
(i wonder how meeting alternate versions of themselves would go, bc id like to headcanon that each of ur behavior towards them/ur unique influence has changed them a bit comparing, like they arent carbon copies anymore, not like they used to be…)
hey sorry for slowing down guys!!
i just feel bad its taken me forever to get to these asks, so i wanted to take what time i could lately and charge thru them so i could spam post lol
I've also been working on fics! so that's delayed things by a lot, bc fics take longer to “respond to” than short asks or replies
my poor bsd fic
Anyway thank you so much for sending this in!!! I'm so sorry i took forever to get to it, and i hope u enjoyed response/my brain shitting this out lol
have a good weekend!! :D
Safe Travels Anon!!
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit
@kiyomi-uchiha777
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royalarchivist · 3 months
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I say this in the kindest way possible, but I think this style of prose is more appropriate for a personal account rather than an update account. I have no idea who's being talked about half the time. 🥲
[ Tumblr meme via @mikaikaika ]
#QSMP#Philza#Edited#Phil#Let me know if this needs an additional tag#I don't think this necessitates a discourse or neg tag or whatever because I'm being silly but I'm happy to add one if folks need it#I won't post this one on Twitter I don't think because I genuinely don't want to hurt anyone's feelings#but. I feel very strongly about this. It's not helpful#I say this as a fan and as a professional writer (who also worked in the Marketing and Communications field for far too long)#The prose is nice! It's very whimsical and they're having fun! But I don't think it's appropriate for an updates account#I recently turned off notifications for QsmpEN and I'm considering muting them because half the updates just aren't helpful to me#I want to be able to speed read through the update thread I don't want to spend an additional 30 seconds trying to decipher who's who#I don't like posting complaints so I tried to make it a funny complaint#because I do think feedback is good! And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way#but at the same time: these update writers ARE volunteers#(As a side note -- I personally think anyone running a large social media account should be paid)#(I did that for a few years and it was hell. I can't imagine doing that and NOT getting paid for it)#But anyways#They're all volunteers so I don't actually wanna go all pitchforks and torches on them (which I wouldn't do anyways even if they WERE paid)#I'm just venting my frustrations in what is (hopefully) a funny way#but you're welcome to disagree! That's ok too#Portfolio
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thekittyokat · 8 days
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you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah
#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again#the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys#saw#well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand#know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows#your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman.#there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn#thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down#something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness#the transformation of a man into a monster#and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption#sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this#do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind.#the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore#it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating#fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn#i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him#until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else#well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God#where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium#anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus#maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man#i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed#if only he hadn't been weaponized first#god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already#but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there#rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts#ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly#cat chat
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lotus-pear · 11 months
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what is childe doing in bungou gay dogs😟
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realbeefman · 8 months
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stacy is sooo interesting because she's in love with house but knows that they will never ever be able to have a healthy, stable, sane relationship because they're too similar so. she finds house-lite instead and marries him and. essentially moves on with her life! and is successful in this because she's a moderately well-adjusted person!
wilson, in contrast, never manages to escape the inevitable, in spite of his best efforts to find a house-lite of his very own, because he's an absolute fucking freak and ends up glued to house to the bitter. bitter end
#yeah im too sleepy to revise this. UNFILTERED posting wooahh#some may b shocked but i do actually read thru most of my posts several times to make sure i didnt accidentally write mein kampfe 2#recently ive come to the realization that i am in fact not an incredibly chill person#and that the constant paranoia and fear in which i live my life is actually PROBABLY a symptom of severe anxiety#like damn. ive always known that im pretty prone to depression but ive preetty much always been aware of that#my mom is a chronic depressive so i know the symptoms i know the signs i have a pretty good arsenal of healthy coping mechanisms#UNFORTUNATELY mommy's mental health problems did not help her not abuse me as a child#so i ended up being a terribly anxious kid who was constantly being screamed at and told i was overreacting (because i was. because i had#a severe anxiety problem that was making me react irrationally.) to everything all the time#which is you know. it is VERY difficult to deal with a mental health problem when you arent aware you have a problem!#its incredible how much. better. my life has gotten since i figured this out and started actively trying to work out what triggers it#and being able to like. realize 'oookay. there is an Issue here and it needs to be overcome'#instead of just beating on myself constantly for not being able to do things without feeling sick or getting breathing problems!#anyways. trauma dumping in tags is over now!#house md#hilson#greg house#james wilson#stacy warner
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plulp · 7 months
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heres yalls science teacher. have fun go crazy
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Several times recently I've found myself making tea whilst listening to The Magnus Archives, and as a result I've developed a silly little headcanon...
I'm not sure if it's a nationwide thing, but certainly throughout my life I've experienced the weird stigma of having sugar in your tea. It's not direct or aggressive, but there always seems to be this vague notion that sweetening your tea makes you less strong, less manly. I rarely see men ask for sugar, and often observe an obvious proudness in teenage boys when they say "no sugar, thanks."
Picture Jonathan Sims, newly appointed archivist, worried he's not good enough, placed haphazardly in power of people who were very recently peers, and desperately trying to prove he's the right man for the job. Everything seems to be falling apart a bit, and he's not at all sure his assistants have any faith in him; he had to ask for a tape recorder because he couldn't get his laptop to work properly - that's embarrassing.
Now imagine Martin: office sweetheart, gets along with pretty much anyone, just moved to a new position working with two close friends, and the attractive guy from research is his boss (he's a bit rude and stuck up, but it's probably just the stress, right?). He's pretty comfortable! Aside from the occasional snide remark from Jon it is a good job, which is especially pleasing considering how he got to work at the institute in the first place.
Two opposing forces, as we all well know! But what's better at building bridges than a nice cup of tea? Martin makes a lot of tea, but I like to think he memorises how everyone takes theirs. Regardless, he has to ask at least once.
And so, kind, sweet, gentle Martin, his offer of a cup of tea promptly accepted, would have the misfortune of saying, "do you take that with sugar?" to an embarrassed, flustered Jon, who's trying desperately not to confront any romantic feelings he might have hidden away. The ensuing scoff and slightly too enthusiastic 'No! Thank you.' would be enough to remember that preference for a while.
As times go on, hundreds of cups of tea later, things get less tense between the pair, and Martin never has to revisit the question; but late one night, shortly before Jon is to leave for Great Yarmouth and Martin is to risk it all to take down Elias, Jon places a hand gently on Martin's shoulder and asks "Could I have a cup of tea?". Of course Martin says yes, it's the least he could do, but as he turns to go and make it, Jon calls out again. "With sugar, please."
Just a tiny vulnerability, but enough. By that point most of Jon's facade has been torn roughly away many times, but letting go of small points of pride often means more than non-deliberate actions. Having enough bravery to admit to liking something soft and sweet is harder than you'd think.
Maybe during those six months after, Martin would watch the sugar dissolve into his own tea with a painful melancholy, the sweetness a bitter memory.
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Under blue moon, I saw you 🦇
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shibuiking · 2 months
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hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin
this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies
~
BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!
FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what? 
BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!
FRANK: You mean caramel?
BARNABY: That’s what I said.
FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.
BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.
FRANK: We absolutely are not!
JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.
BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!
FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?
JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!
FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?
WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.
FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?
BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!
FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!
BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!
FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-
[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen] 
FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!
EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time? 
BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?
EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?
FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!
SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?
FRANK: AGH!
BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!
SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!
FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!
BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.
JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies! 
SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.
FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny. 
EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s… 
[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]
EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!
[Frank makes an affronted noise]
FRANK: Poppy will see sense.
-
POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-
FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.
EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you. 
POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?
BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!
SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!  
POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -
SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy. 
POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.
[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]
WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…
POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.
FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!
JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!
BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they! 
POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?
[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]
JULIE: Oop, there he goes!
POPPY:  Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.
BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.
WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…
POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes. 
SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.
POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-
BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.
-
FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.
BARNABY: Talk about a bias…
[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]
FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-
[Home slowly shuts their curtains]
FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.
WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.
BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.
JULIE: They did not!
BARNABY: Looked like it to me!
SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!
JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!
FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-
JULIE: Us!
FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up. 
BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.
-
[store bell chimes]
HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?
BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!
FRANK: We have important business.
HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical. 
FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?
EDDIE: If I would what?
SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?
EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.
[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop] 
HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.
BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?
[Frank mutters something inaudible]
BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!
FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere! 
EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…
JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank! 
[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]
HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?
BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.
HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-
[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]
FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?
BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…
SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.
EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.
JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh? 
HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.
FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.
HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.
[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]
HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched! 
WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.
[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]
[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]
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ima-ghost-art · 25 days
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Here he is!
The one
The only
Husband and Romance Partner to Cody Walsh himself
LOOSE BARON!!!
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he's not exactly how I planned but I'm not going back to change it now lol
made sure to add the oogie boogie tattoo that made Cody fall inlove with him too lmao
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover
Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 
No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.
It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 
8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.
-
Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 
Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.
'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 
Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 
'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 
'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.
'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 
Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 
'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 
'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 
-
 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  
The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 
To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 
This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 
It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 
Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 
-
Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 
When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 
What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 
Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 
So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 
He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.
'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 
He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 
Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 
Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.
He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.
He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 
'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 
Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.
They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 
Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 
Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.
Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.
Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 
'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 
Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 
'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'
-
So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.
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also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you
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sacchiri · 2 months
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Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.
Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen
A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death
#hellsing#alucard#kouta hirano#translation was found in a comment by u/lazyfoxheart on r/Kurrent#fun fact this is the highest quality version of this image that exists online#i know because i've been looking forever for a version that's clear enough to actually read what hirano wrote under '1443'#but there weren't any so i had to take matters into my own hands#the real image on the back of the guidebook is only 2 inches tall so i had to take this with my smartphone and will my hands not to shake#anyway i'm pretty sure it's supposed to say Eğrigöz (the location vlad was imprisoned) so yeah. thank you hirano very cool#if i might rant for a sec it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out because i didn't have the guidebook at first#and in the images i could find online that part was just a blur that looked suspiciously like a person's signature and i was like. who tf#i was thinking matthias corvinus since he issued some political propaganda against vlad iirc but it didn't match his signature on wikipedia#then i thought it might be vlad II dracul's since he probably had to sign an agreement to send his sons over as hostages at some point#but that didnt seem right either so i kept skimming vlad's wiki page#and then i was like goddammit...hirano.....you just misspelled Eğrigöz didn't you.. ....#i maybe should've made a separate post dedicated to this instead of writing a novel in the tags but eh#the hellsing brainrot runs deep#also- i put it in the source link at the bottom of the post but the german inscription is copied off a real woodcut of vlad from 1491#except instead of depicting him as an adult hirano drew him as a child which gives the inscription a very different feel imo#the one final thing that interests me about this is the fact that hirano published this calendar in 2002#which is REALLY early in the series. like this was before volume 5 came out??#i have no idea why he decided to do a massive spoiler drop in a random piece of japan-only merch#sandwiched between a drawing of alucard as john travolta from saturday night fever and integra as a fish no less#it makes me really curious to know what the fan response to this was back then. like did people even know who this was#maybe im just an idiot and everyone back then was like 'ah yes its alucard as a 12 year old. how very informative'
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