Sial Fairytalker

I need help again!

I'm trying to find another fart from Pinterest...

This is Killugon (I think), this time. It's in black and white, they're in the Zoldyck mansion mountain, I think, and Killua is sayin: "Where are you, Gon? You know I will always find you."

Please help.

Kind regards, a Killugon fan.

Update:

I found it by chance, doom scrolling on Pinterest, trying to find something I could replace it with.

It's that one.

I am obsessed with how they drew Killua's eyes.

I must have been 14 or 15 when it happend. I was starting to make preparation for my book and I needed to name some fonctions that I created for the story. I was hesitating between some names, all of which I ended up using for different jobs, but that's not the point. The point is I asked people around about what they thought of it.

I asked my dad for his opinion on the options (three), He asked me what the fonction was. I explained it to him. And he said, "Well first of all I wouldn't name it any of that."

I looked at him dead in the eyes and cut him off with, "Ok, perhaps, but that is not what I asked you."

Everyone fell silence.

And he answered.

I didn't think about it a lot at the time. I only realised now, that this was what therapy paying off looked like.

For the record, my father has a history of giving people unsolicited advice and act like he's the one with the objective truth, especially with me. The tone he used when he told me "I wouldn't have name it any of that" was also very condensing, and that was the first time I had politely told him to fuck off and that I'd do what I want and didn't care what he'd have to think of that.

It was such a small (and yet important) thing that it didn't come in my mind until years later and realising that I was unforcing boundaries on him made me click and it was the moment I started to grieve him, even if he is still alive now.

I've long been in the acceptance part of that grief and I'm no contact with the jerk, despite his best effort.

Nah, hear me out.

It would fit perfectly with the character and, dare I say, they way he's been introduced to and sees society.

Because of all the hate they get, black people are one of the first people to realise the world is a fucked up place anyone with a singular working brain cell would rather not be in.

And just his reputation, while being (completely) racist, would make even more sense, with seteroypes.

There is a concept that I love to work with when I write fanfictions and/or play with the idea of cursed lovers in a similar situation Meliodas and Elizabeth have, and I feel like that detail might add just a little another layer to the story (and their trauma).

In the case of Elizabeth and Meliodas, it would take the form of a natural way to break the curse. When I say natural, I mean not by using offensive magic against the curses, like they did in the series. Usually, it takes the form of a task, something to bring to the god you've pissed off, a set of actions to earn forgiveness or something like this.

But I say, we make them suffer.

I like my stories and fanfictions salty.

And I don't care if I go against canon. I'm writing this. I'm captain here.

Elizabeth wasn't cursed to love Meliodas. It's a test her mother set out to break the curse. If she falls in love, the curse goes on. If she doesn't, it breaks.

Meliodas wasn't cursed to indefinitely love Elizabeth. It's a test his father set out to break the curse. If he stays in love, the curse goes on. If he falls out, the curse breaks.

The supreme deity probably thought that a different background would make her daughter "see sense," but Elizabeth keeps falling in love with Meliodas no matter what her life looked like before, because he's a lovable goof ball with too much love to give.

The Demon King probably thought that the pain her deaths brought him would eventually make him fall out of love because it would be the most effective way to make the pain stop. But Meliodas can't stop loving her. Even without his emotions, he loves her because the joy she brings to him is worth every bit of pain he feels because of the curse.

That would make their story so much more beautiful because not only would it strengthen their bond, but it would also make a perfect example of: "When you love someone, you're by their sides for the laughters, the 3 a.m panick attacks and the sobbing messes."

I like to think that children's ability to see beyond the living is like their flexibility, as in they could keep that ability to see and interact with beyond the living with practice.

Let me explain.

For context, I've generally heard of stuff along the lines of: "children have an easier time detecting and interacting with the creatures outside of the living because they've only recently left their realm" (Mostly by religious people, not necessarily Christian), and children's flexibility has to do something with their phisical growth that I forgot about because I'm not the best in biology.

The important information is that if you practice with your flexibility, you can maintain it, and if you don't, you can still get some of that flexibility back with practice.

What if those two abilities worked the same? What if all kids could, unknowningly, see ghosts and such and just lost the ability over time because they didn't practice? What if you get back some of that ability if you were to, say, collect haunted objects, attempt to communicate with spirits via various techniques, or work in a cemetery, as a guard or a cleaner ?

Maybe not the point of seeing the dead again, but to feel them floating around you and hear them whisper?

Now, imagine an undertaker who grew up in the middle of a huge, really alive city and can, like, sense the ghosts now that they spent so much time around spirits and such. But, accidently, they ended up making their kid grow up in cemeteries, so now they can see ghosts without problems, and can differentiate all types of spirits, like poltergeists and stuff, and have no problems communicating with them?

I'm writing a wlw slow burn right now, and I'm having a hard time finding a good ship name. Can you please help me?

Main character:

Charlotte Bellefeuille, Charlie

Student of Mars (the roman god)

Best Fighter of her generation (skills)

Queen of the Demi-gods (at the end)

Love interst:

Aelish Hickey, Eli

Daughter of Apollo (the roman god)

Best Healer of her generation (powers)

Queen of the Demi-gods (at the end)

Thank you!

If I were to have a character who has a blade hidden in her shoes... would it be possible to put the opening mechanism in the heel to have a longer blade?

Mind you, this is the heel we're talking about.

Anyways.

I'm looking for a lukanette fanart where it's a puppet of Marinette and a puppet of Luka with button eyes.

I saw it on pinterest, but I don't know if it's findable somewhere else.

Please help.

Kind regards, a lukanette fan.

Update:

It's this one.

PS: Thank you @jana2071 for the link in the comments!

Update:

Angel didn't even realise where he was. He didn't even know where he was. He didn't really care.

The tears rolled down his cheeks like they were racing each other, his back was still sore from where he hit the wall this time, and his heart was going at three hundred miles an hour.

Why did he run off like that? Was he stupid? Did he have a death wish?

His vision started going blurry, and the air stopped getting in his lungs.

"Fuck..." he sighted.

He closed his mouth and eyes, took a deep breath by his nose, and started whispering it.

"~Ninna nanna, ninna oh

Questo bimbo a chi lo dò ?~"

His mother's voice started singing along in his head.

"~Se lo dò alla Befana,

Se lo tiene una settimana.~"

Then Molly's, his twin sister.

"~Se lo dò all'uomo nero,

Se lo tiene un anno intero.~"

He almost felt her arms around him again.

"~Ninna nanna, ninna oh,

Questo bimbo me lo terrò!~"

There. He could feel the air going in his lungs again.

God, he was a mess.

Every day. Every day, he wanted to run off forever. Every day, he wanted to go see Cherry and cry on her shoulder like he always did. Every day, he wanted to hug husk as hard as he could and kiss him all over, tell him how much he loved him.

But he didn't. He would never go back there because he would never be free again.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" He heard a voice calling.

"Yeah..."

He lifted up his eyes and realised... he was being hugged. By a stunning lady kneeling down to his level on the floor, who looked like she was from the Victorian era. And who looked familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Was she on Valentino's filming team? Did he send her here?

Angel Frose.

"Oh, but aren't you Angel dust, the spider who faught along side Charlie seven months ago now? When was Extermination got canncelled? I was here too!"

Oh, that was it.

It came back to him for a moment. A flash of those white hair and that extravagant hat she was wearing.

Angel relaxed a bit, letting his shoulders down.

It was refreshing not to be recognised for his films.

"I'm Rosie, but the way," the lady said. "Tell me, sweetie, do you know where you are?" She asked, getting back up, dusting off her dress.

"I don't have a clue, ma'am..." He swipped off the last tears of his cheeks and took the hand Rosie offered him to get up.

A sharp pain came to his hand when she gripped it a bit harder to get him up.

OK, maybe he should go check that out.

Rosie must have noticed him frown because she was now checking his hand.

"Looks broken to me." She frowned herself. "Did someone do that to you? Was it them who made you panick like this?" she asked.

"Yeah..." Angel sighted. "Valentino, from the Vees. He's a fucking psycho and he owns me, so I can't do anything. I don't have much of a choice."

But, hey, they're enby. And a good sociopath. And clever.... and there is more to them, but it's a part of a minor plot twist I don't want to spoil...

PLEASE!

Please, I am begging you, read it.

It's called The Jackson twins... It's not out yet, but I'm working on it.

I don't know what to do...

Update:

You know, I never thought that my afterlife would be so peaceful. But then, of course, I opened my mouth about it, so it's not anymore.

Or some variation.