【東方】ついったのとか小傘の傘擬人化とか by きたの!

#dc#dc comics#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#dc fanart#dc universe#tim drake#batfam#batfamily


seen from France

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Poland

seen from United States
seen from Russia

seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Poland
seen from Slovakia
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from China
seen from Yemen

seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Lithuania
【東方】ついったのとか小傘の傘擬人化とか by きたの!
"Just saying Ms Tatara's name is enough to leave her vulnerable? Truly, a Karakasa-Obake's life is a hard one."
"Just what is that umbrella girl yelling about...? Ah well, it's probably nothing too important."
Incident Report I2006-A
SCP Involved: SCP-2006 and SCP-2006-1 Date: ██/██/████ Location: Site 118
Preamble: After a fairly standard socialization and monitoring session with SCP-2006, Dr ████ reported hearing an odd █████ sound and suddenly seeing an anomalous woman in the cell with him and SCP-2006. The woman, hereby referred as SCP-2006-1, was wearing [REDACTED Restriction released by O-5 Director ██████ ██████████ upon SCP-2006-1's containment. Its details will be covered later in the document.]. Dr ████ initially assumed that this was a new scare tactic developed by SCP-2006, and reacted with appropriate shock and surprise protocols. SCP-2006-1 offered Dr ████ a confused look and said something in Japanese. Dr ████ was incapable of understanding, and politely excused himself from SCP2006’s cell to ostensibly “collect his composure.” Dr ████ immediately proceeded to call a breach alert, locking down the facility. Within moments of Dr ████’s departure, SCP-2006 and SCP-2006-1 began to cheerfully converse in Japanese, an as yet unnoticed ability of SCP-2006.
Shock and Ack
Please take a moment from your busy reblogging of .gif, can't breath-ings, and askbox memes to consider the Karakasa-obake, one of the great ironies in Gensokyo... They subsist (ish?) on the surprise of others, which often necessitates them to ambush and startle passing Humans. They are patient hunters, often lying in wait along heavily traveled roads for days at a time for a meal. One might be led to wonder; how do they learn what hunting grounds are the most heavily traveled? Some instinct driving them, or is it trial and error? Do the Umbrella spirits ever get territorial, or do they ever cooperate as some sort of pack?
Imagine that; you're walking down the road, when suddenly, WHAM! You're surrounded by hopping umbrellas. And the tongues! Oh man, that would be terrible... Unless you're into that sort of stuff, of course... In which case, I would still caution you against running out to take a stroll down the busier thoroughfares in Gensokyo, regardless of how appealing it may seem to be smothered in tongue! Please keep in mind that there are other hunters-of-men that will do far more unpleasant things than startle you.
Now, with that groundwork laid, we are going to make two assumptions that may, or may not, be refuted later... One, Karakasa aren't numerous enough to make pack hunting or territorialism practical, and two, that their hunting techniques are taught. Once those facts are established, it becomes entirely reasonable for one Ms Kogasa Tatara to be hiding in a bush with her child, Torako Tatara-Mizuhashi. It's not dissimilar from a lioness teaching her cub to hunt, but less bloody and more adorable.
But where is the great irony I promised you? To see, or rather hear, the joke, you must don the feathers and wings of a Karasu Tengu. Once those are affixed, taking a moment to appreciate the delightful and completely unrepentant desire to misbehave, you would almost immediately hear the cheerful buzzing sound of barely contained excitement coming from a decently camouflaged hiding spot occupied by two Youkai girls. Their whispered questions and answers would be easily heard as you alighted in a nearby tree, making as little noise as you could, and a slow grin would spread across your face.
Merely subtract a pair of red eyes, and you will be one Daichi Yuutamo, and you will find yourself tossing a caramel candy towards the younger of the two tuulns. Being blind, you may find the shot difficult, so multiple attempts may be needed, but eventually, you will score a hit, and a small candy will bounce off of Torako's orange headgear. If Kogasa can feed from the surprise and delight of her unofficial offspring, which is way less morbid and painful than that sentence would apply normally imply, then the mother is in for quite a meal indeed.
Were you lacking any reason to curse as of late, Kouhei? I really hope so, because what Kogasa is delivering straight to you is the... thing... pictured above. "You always light these tiny fires, why not wear this instead? Go on, take it, I brought it specifically for you!" Don't worry: Daichi got his own sweater, too. You can match! Even if they're not alike at all.
Light tiny... why would this thing be an alternative for smoking? Except maybe that it's as likely to win Kouhei friends as lighting up in a poorly ventilated fuel storage. "Thanks, miss Tatara, I really, ah, it's very... special."
It's not exactly a basket, nor is there any food involved, but Torako's attempt at ensnaring poor little Coffee is nonetheless performed with very serious intent. "Happy cis-mess!" she joyfully exclaims, throwing the above monstrosity over the Espurr's head for a rather forceful and enthusiastic bout of gift-giving dress-up.
Black coffee. That's what the world had become. Bitter, hot, and suffocating. He screamed. The abyss swallowed it, snagging his fangs on invisible knots. The weight of the shroud was almost pleasant, if not for being trapped inside. Sweat would have began to bead on his forehead, if he could even do so.
"Death," he realized. "has come for me."
Hell no, he thought, gathering his rage, channeling it to his stubby paws and legs. He swiped, and, though he did so with all his strength, was snagged again. Coffee's anger drained from him, and fell back to his side. Death was inescapable.
A shrill, keening yowl slowly slipped through the sweater's fabric. Poor dear.