NAIOM Mod doesn't work with reshades?

2021.10.18 14:56 ClemyLivesOn NAIOM Mod doesn't work with reshades?

NieR: Automata Input Overhaul Mod (NAIOM) requires dinput8.dll
I have installed reshade clean which requires dxgi.dll
Did anyone installed the two and made it work ?
submitted by ClemyLivesOn to NieRAutomataGame [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 reddit_feed_bot JackPosobiec: RT @JackPosobiec: Watch this. And then share it.

JackPosobiec: RT @JackPosobiec: Watch this. And then share it. submitted by reddit_feed_bot to TheTwitterFeed [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 xxcmcxx2 My work in art class

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2021.10.18 14:56 MusicCityMariota MFW I’ve never sinned just like Jesus

MFW I’ve never sinned just like Jesus submitted by MusicCityMariota to TimAndEric [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 PhotoshopReqT Celebrating 1000 subscribers | Win $100 | Enter the Competition

Celebrating 1000 subscribers | Win $100 | Enter the Competition submitted by PhotoshopReqT to pcmods [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Lennaayy Subreddit for advice on how to make money off of a major security flaw in a popular app

Don't really want to go the unethical/illegal route but could do with some compensation for finding it.
submitted by Lennaayy to findareddit [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 No-Acanthisitta423 I did something terrible. And now it won't leave me alone. PART 5: Finale.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
I don't even know how it got into my house. Did he just walk straight into the coroner's office, or the funeral home, or the graveyard, or wherever the fuck Agatha's body was now and just pluck it out of her head?
Jesus, her head.
At this point, it didn't even matter anymore. I'd just seen the bastard standing in the middle of the sky. Anything was possible. I did what I could about the eyeball and swept it into a plastic bag. I proceeded downstairs, out the front door, and to the bins out the front of my property. I chucked it away into the bin's stinking chasm without a second thought, trying to block out the incoming flood of memories and gut-twisting guilt. But it flooded in anyway, those images playing over and over again, like a broken record.
The corpse.
The head.
The man in the suit.
The eyeball.
Judgement? Screw judgement. Screw justice. Screw rights and wrongs. I was a human being, with my own life, my own family, my own passions. I had the right to be happy and free. I had the right to avoid unfair wrath for a simple thing I didn't even intend to happen. It was an accident! Plain and simple, it was just an accident.
I glanced up from the bin as a familiar yellow vehicle pulled up across the street. It was my kid's bus, as he promptly hopped off it with a few other children. After the bus had trundled away, he crossed the street in my direction.
"Hey, Reuben... you have a good day at school?" I asked, trying to maintain my composure. Reuben didn't respond. He kept walking, up the driveway, then past me, then into the house. I blinked, shook my head, and followed him inside. Reuben was heading up the stairs, not even removing his shoes. "Hey! Reuben, no wearing shoes in the house, not even the ones with the rainbow laces. We don't wanna get the carpet dirty," I warned him.
Reuben, having reached the top step, stopped beside the banister, and looked back down at me. He looked tireder still, the bags under his eyes heavy and a greenish purple. He was pale too, much paler than normal. The kid was starting to look sick. Really sick. "I don't want to talk to you, daddy," he croaked.
"Hey... Reuben, what's wrong?" I asked. "Are you still having nightmares about the man--"
"Don't lie," Reuben cut me off. He shuddered, starting to bite his bottom lip. I could now see that the kid was beginning to cry. "Stop lying to me. You're a bad liar. Jasmine's too nice to see it. But I see it. And he sees it. You're a liar, daddy. You're a liar, and a bad, bad person."
I started to ascend the steps, trying to calm him down. "Reuben, you're sick. You're sick, and I don't think you know what--"
"SHUT UP. You weren't like this before," Reuben yelled. I stopped, startled, as fresh tears started rolling down his face. "I know what you did, daddy. He told me. And he showed me. Said he was gunna show you too."
"Show you what?" I asked.
"The eye, daddy. Her eye," Reuben sobbed. "You weren't like this before daddy, I said so. You were good, and nice, and you cared. But you did something bad. You made a mistake, and someone is dead, and you won't take responsibility for it," Reuben screamed. He took a moment, sobbing uncontrollably, and pointed a little red finger at me. "You are not my dad. Not after what you did to us."
"...and what did I do to you?" I whispered.
"You put us all in the hands of him," Reuben said. "Our family. And that's even worse than anything else." With that, my child turned on me and stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him. I ascended the stairs in a rage, ready to fling open the door and talk some sense into the brat, tell him he was talking nonsense, that he ought to apologise, but the door was already locked.
I sighed, standing back, and shuffled into my room. I felt defeated, my shoulders slumped, my fingers shaking. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't stop this thing. Dammit, the kid was right. I couldn't stop this thing, and I'd thrust my family into this thing's clutches.
I stripped the sheets off my bed to clean them as the afternoon slowly began to fade into evening, and after chucking them into the washing machine, I simply sat on the floor in front of the window and wondered what to do next. Everything felt pointless. One way or another, the man in the suit was gonna kill me. Maybe my family. But probably me. Because it was my fault. I didn't want to accept it, but there it was. I was responsible.
I did something terrible. And now it won't leave me alone. Not until I, as that online user said, make amends. I pondered wearily, wondering how it would be done, when I heard the creak of my bedroom door behind me. I turned and found the thing to be shut. Didn't I leave it open before? I slowly stood, my eyes on the door. I didn't even bother approaching it. I knew what was going to happen anyway. I didn't want to die, I didn't want to face what I did, but I had to.
Unless... I thought to myself. Unless I could make a bargain...
As if on cue, I felt his presence. It wasn't like in those stories of ghosts, where the whole room becomes an icebox or anything - I just felt a shift in the atmosphere. And the presence or someone standing behind me. I slowly turned, fearing the worst - and there he was. He stood before me even taller than I imagined he was right up close. His stiff, rigid arm stuck directly out and clamped onto my shoulder, his grip heavy and strong. I saw the front of his suit. I saw his shoes pointed towards me. And at last, I saw it.
I saw his face.
I took in several breaths, panting, trying to speak, to cry and to scream all at once. As I struggled to emit any noise, rooted in place, his other arm raised like a machine, and his second claw-like hand latched itself onto my other shoulder, fingers like knives viciously sinking into my skin. I felt my feet leaving the ground, my heels going, then my toes slowly being prised from the carpet, angled downwards, desperately trying to reconnect with the floor. He was lifting me up with ease, further and further, until finally we were face-to-face.
But his face was not a face.
It was a monstrosity.
A huge smile split across his face, stretching so far that the tips of his mouth wrapped around the side of his face and disappeared. Dozens of disproportionality large, crooked teeth like a shark's filled his mouth, giving the impression that he was eating glass. It was a hideous mess of bleached broken mirrors and glinting razors and could easily tear the toughest of flesh to thin, mangled strips. He had no nose, but instead, two thin little slits were gouged into his face as a feeble replacement for the nostrils. It looked almost like Voldemort's, from Harry Potter, but the holes were longer and deeper, and almost painful to stare at because of how grotesque and mangled the warped skin deeper into his face looked.
But the worst thing was his eyes. Where they should have been, a black, inky substance dripped from sockets reminiscent to a soulless void. Fat droplets crawled down his face like he was crying, contrasting against his skeleton-like smile. The sockets that produced this vile, dirty liquid gazed deep into my eyes, and his grip on my shoulders began to tighten, squeezing harder and harder to the point that I feared my shoulder's bones would begin to splinter.
The fear that gripped me was raw and animalistic, the instinctive urge to flee, to try and live at whatever cost, taking over me entirely. I wanted to scream, was willing to tear my vocal cords apart if it could save me, but I couldn't. I was just so shocked, so frozen, a deer in the headlights. I now knew exactly how that hunter on the livestream felt: terror. Inexplicable terror, at heights I didn't even know existed. The face, the grip, the teeth, the eyes, the impending sense of doom was taking me over, but one thing terrified me most of all.
It was something my father once told me about. If someone tries to rob you, or holds you at gunpoint, but they're wearing a mask, you might have a higher chance of living. But if you've seen their face, if they've let you look upon their facial details, your death is practically sealed. Because that means they don't care if you see their face. They don't care, because they're going to kill you anyway. That was how it felt. The whole time, this thing, this 'man', had been wearing a mask. But now, he was letting me see it all. He was letting me see his face, and that meant I was going to die. He was going to kill me.
As these thoughts ran through my head, his face began to change. The keen mess of teeth were slowly beginning to separate, the top part of his mouth lifting. The inside of his mouth looked like a bottomless pit, black and hideous. A huge, pointed black tongue that slithered around like a fat, bloated worm, lay at the base of this unforgiving maw. His mouth kept opening, and opening...
...and opening...
I wanted to be sick. The upper part of his face, from the top lip and upwards, was gradually tilting further and further back, tilting much further than should've been possible. Like part of his head was on a hinge, his mouth space just kept growing, heightening so, so far, that I was confronted with nothing but the harrowing, irregularly spaced shark teeth, and the awaiting pit of his insides. Finally, his face stopped breaking apart, with the upper section cocked back at a full 90-degree angle.
And now, I was being tilted forward, being tipped in the direction of the hungry, cruel abyss. I knew what was going to happen: he was going to bite off my head. Like the mother who was drowned after drowning her kid, and the hunter who was shot after shooting a person, I was going to be decapitated for decapitating a driver. And God knows I deserved it. I deserved it, but I didn't want it... I didn't want fate... I had a family... I had a girlfriend who was my love... a kid who was my world... I wanted to live.
By god, I wanted to live.
And so, I did the only thing I thought I could do.
"I'm sorry," I gasped in a barely audible voice. "I'm so, so sorry. If I could take it back, if I could change it, I would. Please, please, don't kill me... I want to live... I want to live..." Tears streamed down my face as my head drew ever closer to the abyss. The black, empty world of callous judgement. The end of my life. "I'll take whatever sacrifice is necessary. I'll go to the police. I'll turn myself in. I'll apologise to her family, I'll do it, I will. I swear I will, and if I don't, you can kill me then, no matter what I say. I will take responsibility for what I've done. I will face judgement. I will make amends as best as I can. I know it's too late to do much, but I will do it. Please... please, do anything to me, take my fingers, drive me insane, whatever the sacrifice... just please... let me live, and I promise, I really promise... I will make amends. I will make amends... I promise..."
My head, inches from the gaping mouth, was halted. The hands held me in place, the seconds ticking by. Then, I was being pulled backwards, and the face was re-sealing itself. At last, I was held in place before him once more, that sickening face staring searchingly into my eyes. I repeated myself once more time in a shuddering whisper:
"I'll accept whatever sacrifice is necessary. And I promise I will make amends."
His hands released me. I slammed into the floor like a sack of potatoes, groaning with pain. I looked back up - but he was gone. The room was empty, with just me, a snotty, teary mess, lying in a heap on the floor. I slowly righted myself upon quivering knees and looked to my bedroom door. It was open again, allowing me out into the warmly lit hallway beyond.
I wept silent tears of joy, and gratitude, and proceeded downstairs into the kitchen. The night was almost fully dark out now, by I didn't care. I was alive. I could move, speak, breathe, and live. I could live.
I sat at my counter, looking around at everything as I thought the same thing, over and over:
I can live.
The images of her head, the eyeball, the body... it was still there, still bringing the pained knot of guilt, but the knot was less painful, the images less confronting. I was going to accept justice. I was going to make amends for what I'd done.
Taking a swig of fresh, cold beer, I headed back up the stairs after a good half hour of relieved sobbing, then cleaning myself up. My phone was in my room, on the bedside table. I would call the authorities, state my name, where I lived, and what I had done. That was the plan. But as I reached the top step, I glanced to my right, and frowned. The door to a certain room was open. And I knew for a fact that it wasn't open before.
Cautiously approaching it, I stared inside. The room in question was an old office, that was no longer used. It belonged to my late wife, Maude. Remember, that woman I mentioned once at the very start of this whole thing? Yeah, her. The office was once hers, but after cancer did its thing, I simply stopped using the room. I never thought about cleaning it out, though - it just acted as a reminder of a beautiful woman in my life.
Inside the room in question, on the desk, sat Maude's laptop. It was open, plugged in, and it was on. I frowned, curiously entering the room. Perhaps Reuben had been toying around with it? But that didn't seem right... Reuben would never do something like that. I stared down at what was on the computer screen, and as I did, a dawning realisation began to take over. I felt my breathing begin to change, felt my grip on the chair beneath the desk tighten. I recognised what was on the computer.
But... it couldn't possibly be...
It was the dodgy chat room, the one I had been using to communicate with the anonymous user. There were messages on it too, messages... that I recognised. The person who was being messaged from my wife's computer had written words - the very same words I had written to the anonymous user. The anonymous user had been using my wife's computer. But who would do that?
...of course. Him.
It was him. The man.
I'd been talking to the man in the fucking suit.
I stumbled back against the wall, reading the written words sent from the computer's side:
'You killed someone, didn't you?'
'you did kill someone'
My eyes drifted to the section where you could write and send your messages. Yeah, I can't remember what it's called. There were words sitting in the section, unsent. As my eyes drifted over them, I muttered under my breath:
"No, no, no, no, no, no... Jasmine."
The words read:
'jasmine is the sacrifice. You'll find her where Agatha died. don't try to save her'
I took in hitching gasps, stumbling to the doorway. Fuck that. Fuck sacrifices. I couldn't let him take her... I, I couldn't...
I couldn't.
I sprinted down the stairs, calling out Jasmine's name frantically. When she didn't respond, I checked the backyard. My hands began to tremble, tears brimming, when I did not locate her in the early night's gloom.
"No. No, no, no, please no, god no, please. Please. Please..." I whimpered. "Jasmine... Jasmine..."
I sprinted to my car, starting up the engine and speeding down the road, panic-stricken. I pulled out my phone, frantically sending Jasmine texts whenever I reached a red light or stopped behind a stalled vehicle.
'Jasmine, please respond.'
'Tell me you're okay.'
'Please, please respond, right now. Please.'
'I can't lose you.'
I pulled onto the highway, picking up speed. The world became a frenzy of slashes of light and the brief clamour of horns. I didn't care. All I cared about was her. I loved her. I wouldn't lose her too. It wasn't fair.
By god, it wasn't fair.
I continued to press down on the gas, going faster and faster, so fast that if a car stopped and I ran into it, both of us would be practically obliterated, a mess of shattered bones and bleeding skins. But the only person I was fearful for was Jasmine.
Please, please God... let her live.
The area in which the crash occurred was just up ahead, as I continued to hurtle down the road. I stamped down on the gas as hard as I could, my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel shaking with hysteria. I feared the worst. I feared she was dead. I feared she was in agony, writhing and screaming, not knowing why she was in the hellish position she was in. Not knowing that I was responsible. Not knowing that my selfish actions following a horrible incident had resulted in this. Was resulting in this.
And then, Jasmine responded to my messages with a call. I looked down and jammed my thumb aggressively on the 'accept call' button. As soon as I did, I almost began shouting:
"Jasmine? Jasmine, baby, tell me you're okay, please tell me you're okay. Oh god, oh god. Where are you? Can you tell me where you are? Jasmine, please."
Jasmine, in a confused voice, responded. "Babe, I'm-I'm fine, calm down. I'm just at the store getting milk. Sorry, my phone was off and in my purse. Are you okay? What's wrong?"
I glared down at the phone is disbelief. What was happening?
I looked back up, almost dead on the spot where the incident had occurred, and that's when something stumbled in front of me. I yelled, slamming my foot down on the brakes, but it was already too late. Whatever it was, was hit by my car with a dull 'thunk', and went spinning into the darkness, leaving a bloody smear on the front of my car. I continued to jam down on the brakes, the all-too-familiar racket of squealing tires and howling horns surrounding me once again as my car fully rolled to a stop.
This time, I did not cower and cover my head. I looked around at the ensuing carnage, watched cars swerve and whirl aggressively, watched one mount the barrier and diagonally skid along, sending up a harsh spray of sparks as it went. It lasted a good ten seconds. I simply sat there, my hands on the wheel, reliving the sickening experience of carnage and terror.
When it was dead silent, I pushed my car door open. I wasn't going to just drive away again. I couldn't. I needed to know what I'd done. I planted a foot onto the road, moving mechanically, stepping into the frigid night air. All around me there were slanted beams of light, curtesy of headlights, pointed every which way. I set my eyes forward, each step towards the front of my car feeding into a sense of mounting dread. Step - by step - by step - my anxiety heightening endlessly. What had I done? Who was it this time? Was it even a 'who'? Perhaps it was an animal?
At last, my eyes rested on the scene sat before me. A pickup truck was a little distance ahead of me, taking up two lanes as it had swerved to a violent stop. Glass panes being transported on the back of the truck had been cracked and shifted around, with several broken sheets jutting out threateningly, hanging over the road. One fractured pane had an ugly smear of dark crimson on its edge, thick droplets of blood oozing onto the road. Fat balls of scarlet, dripping, one at a time, onto the asphalt.
My eyes settled on the figure laying beneath the glass panes, bathed in harsh fluorescent headlights. I stared at it for a very long time. I tried to speak, but then I took in breath, after breath, after breath, and at last I began to scream.
I began to scream so loud, letting out horrified howls of agony and terror. I shrieked up at the sky, tears streaming down my face, wailing in anguish, my entire face contorted in despair. I shrieked so loud my throat felt like it was tearing itself apart, but I didn't care. I was too horrified to care.
Because despite the cracked and broken limbs, despite the absolute mess of blood they were covered in, despite the torn clothing and the fractured fingers, despite the body parts being turned around at impossible angles, with split skin and bones snapped like twigs, despite the complete lack of a head, torn mercilessly from the body and leaving only thin strips of skin behind, I knew who it was. I knew exactly who it was. It was more roadkill than human, and it was missing its head entirely, but I knew exactly who it was.
And do you know how I knew who it was?
Because of those little, rainbow shoelaces.
submitted by No-Acanthisitta423 to nosleep [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 MoBlack23 Looking for a Facebook ads manager.

I am looking to find a Facebook ads manager on Fiverr for a B2B SaaS. I'll be happy to learn about any recommended professionals.
submitted by MoBlack23 to Fiverr [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 reddit_feed_bot JackPosobiec: RT @matthewdmarsden: Send your kids to a school that has a classical curriculum, if you can. Teach them HOW to think, not WHAT to think. Same goes for college.

submitted by reddit_feed_bot to TheTwitterFeed [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 InconclusiveMan Fingerprint AOD icon randomly lights up

I have the phone now for a month. I noticed this today.
I have the phone next to my laptop, and I kept seeing that the AOD fingerprint icon kept appearing randomly in the screen, sometimes, several times in quick succession... what's the deal with that? The phone is in the table, I'm not moving it, I don't have notifications either.
Why is it appearing like that?
I'm seeing that I have the option to show it when I tap the screen... but I'm not tapping it. I don't have touch issues either, that works good.
I will disable unlocking the phone with my fingerpint when the screen is off until I find out what is going on.
submitted by InconclusiveMan to GalaxyS20FE [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Nono-Shinomiya Yumeoi Kakeru Plays【MOTHER2 Gyiyg Strikes Back!(EarthBound)】#08 at 10PM JST today!

Yumeoi Kakeru Plays【MOTHER2 Gyiyg Strikes Back!(EarthBound)】#08 at 10PM JST today! submitted by Nono-Shinomiya to Nijisanji [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 MonkResponsible7162 Anyone know a good vinyl siding company to refasten a window

submitted by MonkResponsible7162 to Charlottesville [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 KimKimiePro Jennie

Jennie submitted by KimKimiePro to kpics [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 izner82 Successful Civil Engineers

Puro negative nababasa ko sa traditional engineering dito, curious lang ako meron ba ditong civil engineers na naging successful, yung tipong nakaka-6 digits ang kita monthly na < or = 5 years of experience lang.
Kung meron, anong tips/advice niyo para sa mga aspiring civil engineers. Pahingi narin ng clues kung pano niyo na-achieve yon (e.g. tamang kickback lang, maging contractor, etc.) Thank you!
P.S. Asking for a friend
submitted by izner82 to phcareers [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 StouteBaardbek The worlds most useless action in the world !!!

The worlds most useless action in the world !!! submitted by StouteBaardbek to blackopscoldwar [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 AlwaysAlfred Sea brid on his way

Sea brid on his way submitted by AlwaysAlfred to birdstakingthetrain [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 spijen Southern girl up north for the winter— where do I get cheap long sleeves/coats/winter wear?

Hey guys, so this is kinda late but it’s like… starting to get really cold now… haha
I’m from southern Louisiana where it’s a miracle if it hits 32°F or lower (and SNOWS??) but now I’m in michigan and it’s already 42°F on a random Monday in the fall.
So where does everyone get their coats and stuff for cheap? Honestly I don’t even really know what I need other than gloves, snow boots(?), and a nice warm jacket. Idk how to keep my legs warm.
I’ve heard Costco is good for sweaters, but I’m a broke college student so I’m trying to see if there’s anywhere even better before I go buy some sweaters and stuff from there lol. I’ll ceci thrift stores out as well, but I feel like winter wear is probably something best bought new since the material gets worn out over time? Correct me if I’m wrong.
I’ll be reading any answers after work later today, thank y’all :)
submitted by spijen to Frugal [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 cpku Da li ovaj CD ima fanova medju srpskim breditorima? Koja vam je bila omiljena igra?

Da li ovaj CD ima fanova medju srpskim breditorima? Koja vam je bila omiljena igra? submitted by cpku to serbia [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 WesleyPatton33 The FFXIV Playerbase Compass

The FFXIV Playerbase Compass submitted by WesleyPatton33 to ShitpostXIV [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Suspicious_Border170 Unit 2 Exam?

Anyone have the answers to unit 2 exam?
submitted by Suspicious_Border170 to EdhesiveHelp [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 migo984 A selection of my muted inks to match the murky, dreich weather here today. Combined pages plus four pages of details.

A selection of my muted inks to match the murky, dreich weather here today. Combined pages plus four pages of details. submitted by migo984 to fountainpens [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Spiritbomb6789 When will the quarter final draw take place?

Will it be today after group D is done?
submitted by Spiritbomb6789 to leagueoflegends [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Prosciutto4U 12lbr last night. Sundays are for making the week’s lunches.

12lbr last night. Sundays are for making the week’s lunches. submitted by Prosciutto4U to smoking [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 Sonia13m 3D Donut artwork, Me, Digital, 2021

3D Donut artwork, Me, Digital, 2021 submitted by Sonia13m to Art [link] [comments]

2021.10.18 14:56 DaDrewBoss Cheap fuel flow meter?

Could I use one of those to get some estimates on my boats fuel burn rate?
submitted by DaDrewBoss to boating [link] [comments]