#Because fuck this guy I guess

[kurtmustdie]

No matter what Miguel’s fate is in btsv just rest assured he gets the happiest ending possible in my warrior cats x spiderverse AU

Since it still follows the events of atsv but it’s a little different because it’s adjusted to the warriors universe I can just

lay it out here

he (Reclusestar) ends up retiring from being leader of SpiderClan and goes to live in a cozy cottage outside of the forest his clan used to reside in with a lesbian couple that takes in cats to foster them to later be adopted. He’s a permanent resident (along with Jess, Peter, Xina, and Mayday, who’s now a young adult cat), meaning he gets to help cats, young and old, adjust to house cat life and generally have a better living situation than before (most of them either being dropped of from owners who can’t take care of them or former street cats)

and yes, that means he gets to help out and play with plenty of kits. All of the kits love him. He basically adopts every kitten that crosses the door. He does cry when they get adopted but he knows that he’ll either get to see them around the city/neighborhood (he’s allowed to wander) or that they’ll remember him as a good father/mentor figure and take his teaching to heart.

he also gets to wear a cute little red and blue bandanna because why not.

the humans end up naming him muffin… yk… if you care.

[incohorace]

(consumed with lust voice) omg what a fucking weirdo

[julijbee]

in awe of the beauty of the world

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[payasita]

Tracked quest: Kill Shamura in Silk Cradle

i just didnt want to do the fucking enemy wave again

[saragrosie]

As promised, incredibly stupid s4-5 drawings

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 5-11

1 - day 2 - truth - 3

[erinwantstowrite]

the haters are trying to get me to care about canon. they're trying to get me to only fuck with canon. newsflash you stupid bitch if you are in a fandom space you are consuming fanon. i don't CARE that it's canon that bruce wayne has hit his kids in canon. i make my own world where it's common fucking sense that heroes are good people who would not be abusers. "human flaw" this my ass that motherfucker drives a Batmobile and wears a Batsuit and throws around Batarangs. live in a suspended belief and have fun before you dry up and die a sad raisin of a being

[dapper-lil-arts]

Darlings. is it gay when the phantom you created as a manifestation of your dreadfull loneliness takes the form of one of your closest friends.

Fanart of this pretty good horror rarijack fanfic, "The haunting of carroussel boutique" personaly i am surprised the writer didnt take the chance to point out how fucking funny this is. Me n kim started laughing about it during stream and i just had to draw this

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Very lazy but I think the final idea for monsterifying my avatar

Z-643 is a previously assumed humanoid figure obscured by a viscous substance resembling oil. The consistency of the fluids it produces is that of blood and is incredibly toxic when come into contact with, causing fatigue and vertigo. Long term exposure, be more than a minute within contact, can create nausea, loss of balance, and even stronger effects of dizziness, eventually leading to affected individuals to fall unconscious and quickly perish. Autopsy reports show that the blood of these victims is entirely changed into the same substance Z-643 produces, although translucent and lacking any of the more dangerous side effects. Further testing shows that Z-643’s blood also causes intense brain activity similar to that of REM sleep even if the individual is fully conscious, causing them to see vivid hallucinations.

If Z-643 is cornered in any way, it’ll feel threatened and let out a infrasonic scream that gradually becomes audible to any listeners as it rapidly destroys the eardrums and promptly kills them. Interaction with Z-643 must be careful and predictable as it’s sight is incredibly sharp, almost seeming like it can anticipate things before they happen. It will rarely move when observed directly as it assumes anything is a threat until proven otherwise. When not directly observed, Z-643 feels safe enough to slowly trudge its containment cell, stopping to stare at anything that piques its interest.

Z-643 can detect eye contact much more keenly when it is on the move. If it detects it’s being observed while it’s moving, it’ll quickly search for a place to hide, preferably where it has a good view of the area that it’s in. Observation through any other means such as cameras do not stir Z-643.

GRAND ENCOUNTER - “ red light green light “

As the player opens the door to the Fallen Angel encounter, they will hear a ringing and be briefly disoriented

The room is a long heavy containment hallway with scratches and puddles of Z-643’s blood as well as various furniture strewn about

There are marks on the ceiling where Z-643 climbed into its position, causing its blood to drip down and possibly hit (and hurt) the player

Z-643 is in a tired state and thus occasionally will close its eyes, player has to move between these periods and stop when it opens its eyes again

Hazards in the room urge the player to keep moving even when Z-643 is observing, this encounter is a test of nerve and patience

Because of the room’s damaged state, lights will flicker and occasionally go out completely, but because any light sources will alert Z-643 of your presence you are forced to navigate without them

When you reach the end of the encounter, Z-643 will retract away from the doorway but continue to monitor you (it won’t aggro at this point)

[wickjump]

lvl20 cross is my no.1 enemy btw. if i see him there will be an unspecified lethal weapon in my paws and it will be pointed in his general location

[vinestaff]

me and that fucking subspace that i hate

raw version without the pixelated jazzy filters and stuff :3

[theminecraftbee]

okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

[malachite834]

Happy Halloween! I decide to dress up as a dragon for the occasion, but, uh, I can't seem to take the costume off. I may be stuck like this...

...Oh well!

[uncanny-tranny]

I think such a big reason my trans manhood feels almost... bigendered is simply because in the eyes of most people (specifically cis people with whom I interact with most), I straddle this weird line wherein I am a man and often am seen as one, but I am also clearly undefinable insofar as cis theory goes, clearly queer, clearly outside of manhood if one only accepts cishet, patriarchal manhood. This definitely used to be a source of dysphoria for me, but I think now that I've transitioned, it's been interesting to explore this more. Am I wholly a man? Yes. Am I a man of multitudes? Yes. Do these multitudes contradict? Well, that depends on your definition of "contradiction"