#like a wolf

[werecanine]

me if you even care :3

[oldmama]

[swirling-romantics]

NOT EVERYTHING IN BOOKS IS LITERAL.

A DIALOG BEING DESCRIBED AS A GROWL DOES NOT MEAN THAT PERSON IS LITERALLY GROWLING. IT'S JUST DESCRIBING IT AS BEING HARSH AND HUSHED.

NOT ALL DESCRIPTIONS ARE PURELY LITERAL OR PHYSICAL! SOMETIMES IT'S JUST THE CONNOTATIONS OF THE THING AND MEANT TO SYMBOLIC AND METAPHORICAL.

Growling, barking, hissing, and all other animalistic traits used in books are not literal and people need to stop treating them as such. They add more emphasis to writing and refer to what we associate with them (i.e barking being loud and intent, hissing being quiet yet forceful, etc) and are not meant to be taken as literal descriptions.

[joylisgo]

you're my sunshine, you're the only one I wanna give all my time .ﾟ★ ･*. : ｡*:･☆

[antropofagg]

in light of apparently watching 251 videos of taskmaster content this past year in 2026 i hope to become Tim Henman

[ekansposting]

tangled to the corpse of a decomposing god

my magnus oppus or whatever they call it babeyy may the off brain rot leave me alone for a while

Batteur detail:

A bit lore about my silly fun au where nothing goes wrong under the cut:

The very first he woke up, there was nothing but a sense of mission; the ghostly finger that vaguely pointed to somewhere at the horizon. Sensations he couldn't understand. Limbs that didn't feel like his own. With distant clicks and green lines of code behind his eyelids, the fog slowly lifted from his mind: he was the Batter, and he had a mission to purify this world.

He took a deep, relieved breath as that simple sentence engraved itself into his mind. That he could do. There was no need to worry about the pale yellow water lapping at the ground beneath his feet. Or the sense of being watched.

He knew who that was. The few codes in his head had crackled, and to know was to as simple as a String changing from null to Player.

A simple proposition of collaboration. A few lines about how to control. The sense of orange strings going between his muscles like ice cold tendons.

Then, silence.

Silence that echoed for way too long.

He waited patiently, loyally, untill his blinks started to get longer and longer.

At some point his eyes started to get heavier, and

The second time he woke up, there was no sense of restoration or refreshment; no, there was only the slowly growing feeling that something had gone wrong somewhere. It shouldn't have taken this long. It really shouldn't have then this long. Not like he knew why, exactly, but there was a voice in his head that told him that the orange strings were there for something.

He slowly raised one hand, muscles aching as they defied the strings, and he

The third time he woke up, he was on the ground. Tangled. The strings had started to split and separate, the faint pulse they carried faint.

"Player?" He called out again, for the first time in who knows how long, his voice unsure.

Echoes of his own voice. Sounds of water slowly churning below him. His stomach growling. No response.

No response.

He could feel his form changing as he began to get more and more exhausted, flesh shifting underneath dry skin.

He blinked a few times, and... One of the blinks felt longer. Deeper.

Th

The fourth time

and

The fourth time was the worst.

This wasn't supposed to happen this early. This wasn't

He wasn't supposed to be tangled in cold strings, gnawing on his own arm just to free it. The ache in his head told him so. The-

A bang cut his thoughts in half.

A panel, a face, a wing. Something of that sort. A disintegrated string attached to it's underside that now slowly bled into the pale waters.

He had a moment to look above, a single moment to see the Player decomposing, the rings a faded grey.

The scent of rotten flesh overpowered the one of plastic for a few awful seconds.

[5weetmeat]

can i get something cool in my ask box cause im sick