#ARMOUR CLANKING

[seithr]

[trekkerac]

Clank Casual

[squireutations]

ignore the suspiciously rhythmic clanking coming from the jousting champion's tent please. its fine. the squire is probably trying to get the dented chausses off. nothing to see here

[the-music-maniac]

Do you think Argenti and Boothill go shopping for WD40 together

[goodboytown]

using my own technology against me? and out of the bodily remains of my troopers, hm. how brazen.

[swimmingferret]

Rivet Dancing | Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart

[this-tumbleweed-surecan-fish]

I love superhero aus (got my gender from one) but i never end up writing them (or i stop partway through and never continue *cough*) but: Hermitcraft superhero au that is actually a magical girl au.

Imagine with me. Just form a moment. Any hermit of your choice. The background becomes sparkles. They do a silly little dance as the costume slowly appears. It ends with a cool pose. Ready to fight. Even if they don't have a mask people who see them everyday can't recognise them.

[redlyriumidol]

the warden embarking on their search for paragon branka:

[nevesmose]

Gotta say of all my various AU Fulgrims, I think mirror-of-the-dollverse Armourgrim is really growing on me just because of how benign and low-stakes his antics are. He's just a weird little guy with overthinking/perfectionism issues and a very, very specific fetish who ends up living with a hulking suit of haunted plate armour that he desperately wants to get railed by. Like a nerd x jock roommates AU with a lot of very convoluted extra steps.

And the extent of his evil scheming is to win cosplay contests by attaching little bits of the original armour to pinpoint accurate costumes that the ghost Ferrus can inhabit and then rail him in increasingly elaborate scenarios

The fic would be called My Nights With Shining Armour or some other pun of that nature and it would either be deliberately stupid and ridiculous, or played 100% seriously for heartfelt drama and romance about a suit of armour.

[teamxdark]

It only took me a year but now that I have a sword, I yearn for armour as well.

[seithr]

[bihanzo-advocate]

Me and who

[lanami-legacy]

I realised have never shared the concept pics of Clank's armour on this blog before, so here you go <3

It was designed by Cordelia and some of her friends. She wasn't really expecting Clank to use the designs at first but was pleasantly surprised when he did.

[haunted-doodles]

sir please don't hurt him that's my emotional support warforged and his 11 year old boy who keeps him alive.

[goodboytown]

>>> rivets continued

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hatred & Love

"... burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fuck boy!gwayne, fluff ig, when daemon said hightower cunt he meant gwayne because he Serves™, typos, etc.

I saunter down the hall on my way back to my chambers. My ears perk at the sound of laughter from the distance. Immediately, my jaw tightens in recognition, and my feet quicken its pace. I squeeze my hands together, wanting nothing more than to avoid whom I knew I might encounter.

The gods fail me as I spot the aggravating Hightower, merrily loitering in the gardens with his company. Dare they drink in broad daylight? Clad in his sigil and armor, no less.

Tactless.

Apparently, he had won another silly tourney. How irritating of him to celebrate in my home. The Keep would surely benefit from his absence. Gods know the peace I feel when he is not around.

Gwayne's eyes drift. I can feel him looking at my handmaids, at me, as we pass. He laughs at whatever foolishness his friend tells him; the noise grates at me. I scoff under my breath, "barbarian."

Gwayne smirks and calls out, "blessed morn, princess!"

"How can it, when you are here, and it is midday?" I retort, sparing him no glance or pause.

He chuckles as he stands. My face twists as I hear his clanking armour. My heart races at the sound of footsteps accelerating towards me.

My arm is pulled back. I shoot a glare at Gwayne and his stupid face as he releases me. His lopsided smirk aggravates me further as he says, "is a congratulations not in order?"

I snort, "for whom," I raise a brow, "for you?"

"For you," he tilts his head back, placing his hands behind him, "the most temperate princess of all. So comely, so-" his dimples show, "sweet."

I feel my face begin to tighten.

He sticks out his lower lip, "they had no one to crown queen of love and beauty in your absence. Twas a shame."

My head cocks to the side. My brows knit, "you mean you?"

"What?"

"You had no one to crown Queen of Love and Beauty," I step forward.

He stays put as I impose into his personal space. His eyes dart up and down; the muscle on his jaw feathers.

"Were you so anguished by my absence that the victory left a bitter taste in your lips?" I pout and sigh as I bring my hands behind me, effectively mocking him.

Gwayne watches how my chest sinks. His expression chips away a fraction, but it is enough to make me smirk, and I do so happily.

That is, until he licks his lips.

"Tis victory enough that you know of it," his smirk grows. Mine fades as he continues, "my heart sings at the newfound knowledge that you gossip about me, princess."

I chuckle dryly, admittedly louder than necessary, "I need no gossip! Tis not hard to hear about you, when your blabbermouth is audible even in the dungeon's depths!"

His defenses slip. A giddy chuckle escapes his diaphragm, and the rich sound makes my stomach drop. His eyes crinkle and his hands relax to his side. He lets himself relish his amusement before he mutters, "how then would I gain your attention?"

My lips part.

His brows raise.

My breath hitches.

Wind blows my silver hair into my mouth and the sound of me spitting it out snaps him out of his trance. Gwayne shifts on his leg, "perhaps I should pull your hair."

My upper lip curls at his childish response, and he chortles at my look of disgust. "You are a hateful beast," I roll my eyes and turn about.

"Hatred and love burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."