#Bequeath

[blindbisexualgoose]

Looks like we can’t bequeath, barbarism, blasphemy, our way out of this one

[mysterycitrus]

the fanon that dick was awful to his successors — being abusive to jason or mean to tim — is very funny to me because he categorically handled being replaced better than either of them did

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

I saw the Mumbo version (below) a few months ago and needed to make a Tango version

I found the Mumbo one reposted on Pinterest, so I don’t know who the original creator is. If you do know, please tell me so I can credit them properly!

[heylittleriotact]

Pssssst…

You know Emmrich’s ring? The one with the large stone that he says was his Father’s last gift to him? Yeah, that one.

It’s the only piece of jewelry he owns that isn’t gold: it’s actually something inexpensive like brass or copper. The large, shiny stone? Not a ruby or emerald - not even a less valuable gem like garnet or tourmaline. It’s just coloured glass.

It’s costume jewelry - you couldn’t get a copper for it if you tried to sell it in the market.

But it’s all a traumatized kid had left of his Dad, and despite all of his hard-earned wealth and success as a grown man, he wears that cheap ring that leaves a green band on his skin every single day, no matter what.

[splinterclan]

here's a vinepaw! :3

I feel like I should've done Moonpaw as a tribute but Vinepaw has always been my favorite lol

(rip moonpaw too :( I was actually kinda shook by her death, which means you did a good job as the writer lol)

WAHH THIS IS SO GOOD!!! The lighting on the first one is lovely <333 I love Vinepaw too - thank you for drawing her!! And yeah I felt bad ripping into you all like that but it had to be done ;;;--;;;

[shizunitis]

How do you think Shen Qingqiu would be affected if he had Xin Mo?

holy fuck i've been thinking about this for months and now that i've been asked i'm kind of lost. anon i love you prepare for a whole lotta yapping

the question is vague enough to both give me room to fuck around and to not know what to focus on. so i'll go with trying to figure out what the chain of events would be, mostly. i'm very sleepy though. that should be taken into consideration.

xin mo uses its masters' trauma and psychological issues against them. which means we just have to take shen qingqiu's issues and ramp them up enough to see what that would do to him. how that change would present itself is highly dependent on how he comes upon xin mo, as well.

first off, what does he want? shen qingqiu wants, in no particular order: to survive, to have luo binghe by his side and safe, and to protect his sect from a wrathful luo binghe.

he dislikes violence but doesn't shy away from it when it's expected of him to be unmoved by it. he's a deeply curious person and likes theorising, cultivation, and feeling powerful and respected. he thinks of himself as a "faker" but is proud of his moral stances, especially when they differ from the original goods'.

his biggest frustration throughout the novel is the fact that he cannot protect luo binghe from the plot and all the suffering that would bring him, and that he is under the control of something so opposed to his own goals as the system.

let's say shen qingqiu were to fall into the abyss and find xin mo himself, and therefore the system's control of him would be weakened, as it was when binghe was down there. this would mean he didn't betray binghe, maybe even took his place. this has to happen because he figures out the system is his biggest obstacle, before he gets to xin mo, or else my whole thing falls apart. maybe shang qinghua plays a part in this, maybe not.

it doesn't matter much how, but if he doesn't come to this realisation at some point, he would not place his target on the system, nor would he get the courage to try to change things according to his own wishes.

so. abyss -> revenge on the system -> find xin mo -> cultivate with it -> get out of the abyss.

first off, the sect wouldn't stand for him using a clearly harmful (to both himself and the world around him) demonic sword, or any sort of demonic cultivation at all, so he'd have to hide it if he were to make his way back. paranoia and fear would probably change him into an overprotective person, someone who slowly becomes less careful about what he has to do in order to protect his people, especially when we factor in how he'd had to, for years, live under the control and supervision of the system.

there is also the problem of getting close to the protagonist again. if he were to make contact, the system would re-activate, and his attempt to kill it would be useless.

he'd draw himself away from the people he cares about so he could watch over them. he would study and try to use the sword to change things in his favour, with the right incentive. the harm brought to his cultivation by the sword would probably force him to become more secretive so he isn't discovered.

he would probably seclude himself away from cang qiong, binghe and most of the world. whether he goes into the demon realm or not doesn't matter. he would rely on only himself, unless he can get shang qinghua involved in his plans. i imagine shang qinghua would be opposed to it, not only because the system would be against it, but because shen qingqiu's death or pain would spell his own destruction (by luo binghe's hand) if he didn't try to stop it.

the threat of huan hua palace and people discovering binghe's true nature would probably allow for the sword to take advantage of him more and more as he uses it to fight against them. i don't think the opm would not go after luo binghe, especially with shen qingqiu out of the picture, so i'm imagining the old fuck would offer luo binghe some sort of help just to get him close. shen qingqiu wouldn't stand for it, and we know that as he gets more desperate, shen qingqiu tends toward pragmatism. he would do what needs to get done, i guess.

"stuck between a rock and a hard place" pretty much describes shen qingqiu in svsss. having that not be the system's fault, for once, would probably push him to the edge enough that he does something extremely stupid and turns the entire cultivation world against him in an attempt to protect binghe from the opm's influence.

i don't think he would go too far, outwardly. he would probably bring more harm unto himself with xin mo than binghe had, and would probably suffer more than anyone else involved. him being so tight-lipped about his own motivations would get him scorned and named a traitor to the human realm. he'd have shen jiu's reputation post-trial, maybe. he would become colder, lifeless, honed-in on his goals.

this was an extremely long-winded way of saying that shen yuan, corrupted by xin mo, would become a husk of his former self. i imagine a moment where he tries to be warm again, that whole fond teacher shtick, and would find himself horrified at how much of an act that is now, rather than acting cold and heartless. i think he'd have turned his caring into caring too much to the point of leaving himself behind.

i had a wip of shen yuan transmigrating into luo binghe and having to lean into xin mo's influence so that he could get luo binghe reinstated into his own body that i put on the shelf at some point. he ended up baiting people into trying to assassinate him, and used their sacrifice as a way to power some sort of revival technique.

shen yuan needs plausible deniability for every action he does, especially ones he sees as morally reprehensible. so. add that to the whole thing above and that's the bulk of it, i think. maybe. god please tell me i make sense i need a shizun headpat

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Graves and the Shadows take the piss out of Price, Gaz and Ghost - "fawkin' 'ell, guv'nur, up those apple and pears" - and Soap comes in fists flying, because only he is allowed to rib his pet Englishmen about their dorky fuckin' accents, Graves and his yankee doodle dandies can get tae and sit their flat arses doon.

[dat-solas-tho]

[sleepyspoonie]

so you know how little girls are all out there making witches brews with mud and leaves and shit? my toxic trait as a child was that i'd do that with my empty shampoo bottles and whatever cleaning products i found under the sink. i'd store them there and build them up with new soaps and conditioners and cleaning powders and whatever interested me, but sometimes they disappeared and i was very sad about it.

in retrospect i must have created god's most stressed out mother because i was constantly mixing idk mustard gas or something under the bathroom sink and she was constantly coming behind me and trying to keep me from killing myself on accident

[sekajiku]

in your hand, take this key 🗝 

[religious-extremist]

"He prays, but he answers prayers. He weeps, but wipes away tears. He asks where Lazarus has been laid, for he is man; but he raises him to life, for he is God. He is sold, dirt cheap, for thirty pieces of silver, but he redeems the world, at great cost, with his own blood. ... He dies, but he brings to life, and by his own death destroys death. He is buried, but he rises again. He descends into hell, but rescues the souls imprisoned there."

☦️ St. Gregory the Theologian of Nazianzus, commemorated today. (January 25)

[s-aint-elmo]

she got too silly

(id in alt text)

[bitchslapblastoids]

[thedaslut]

Have a short solavellan ficlet, set immediately after VG (Obviously spoiler heavy)

Solas does his best to keep it together but… these past few minutes have been some of the most exhausting of his life, and that's including the fight with Elgar'nan's archdemon just before then. He barely registers the bleak greyness, the monochrome light as he finds his knees buckling and vision swimming.

But he does feel the warmth as his vhenan grabs him to steady him, hears her voice as she calls his name - though the sound of it is muffled and distorted he knows it from her lips.

She speaks to him as he's lead to a fallen pillar. He thinks she tells him to look at her, but he's not sure. He does anyway. He sees two of her, and the thought that he's twice as happy flits through his mind and makes him smile.

"You look a mess, vhenan," she says, both of her smiling back. "Rest. I am here. I will be here when you wake up."

He could obey and lean back, he knows. Already his beloved is searching through her field-kit with a deft hand that looks like something Ghilan'nain would approve of in his swimming vision, but he doesn't close his eyes or look away. He doesn't want to. He never wants to stop seeing her.

Still, his vision dims as she works, cleans, heals. Pulsing darkness at the edges, or perhaps simply blinking. He closes his eyes when she whispers something reassuring and reaches up to the gash over his eye with a needle and thread and he doesn't open them again. He says something, he thinks it is her name, and it feels like a promise.

He's warm when he wakes up.

The prison has never been warm.

Opening his eyes is not as easy as he thought. One eye is swollen, and both hurt like a bad headache with reinforcements. He doesn't feel heavy - his armor removed - and he is resting his head on a red piece of cloth. Vhenan's sash, he realizes when he turns his face towards it and catches her scent. Still the same, after all this time. Her coat covers him best it can, and it warms more than just his frame.

Something in front of him flutters as he breathes. It takes a good while for him to focus his gaze on it.

The grey rock of the prison is as familiar to him as it gets, cold and merciless like the past. But from a crack within the stone a bright, green sapling has unfolded two leaves that dance with his breath.

He lifts his head, and sees light. Warm light, sunlight. He feels wind, light and gentle. At the edge of his hearing he can hear flowing water.

And not too far away from him, but far enough for him to know that she's been exploring, is his heart. Standing within a sunbeam that turns the grey stone around her golden.

Her hand extended, a tiny whisp dancing in her palm. A guest, who slipped through cracking walls? Or something formed here where he meant for no life to thrive?

A breath of relief, a sob of a pain ended, the pain in his eyes washed away as tears form. She was right. It wouldn't be terrible if they are together.

[junkobato]

Upcoming Kdrama January 2024 🌈

1/1: Marry My Husband with Park Min Young, Na In Woo, Lee Yi Kyung. 16 episodes; rom-com, fantasy.

2/1: Love Song for Illusion with Park Ji Hoon, Ji Woo, Hwang Hee. 16 episodes; historical, romance, fantasy.

12/1: Knight Flower with Lee Hanui, Lee Jong Won, Lee Ki Woo. 12 episodes; historical, mystery, comedy.

17/1: A Shop for Killers with Lee Dong Wook, Kim Hye Joon, Seo Hyun Woo. 8 episodes; action, thriller.

19/1: the Bequeathed with Kim Hyun Joo, Park Hee Soon, Park Byung Eun. 6 episodes; thriller, mystery.

19/1: LTNS with Ahn Jae Hong, Esom. 6 episodes; rom-com.

21/1: Captivating the King with Jo Jung Seok, Shin Se Kyung, Lee Shin Young. 16 episodes; historical, melodrama.

26/1: Flex X Cop with Ahn Bo Hyun, Park Ji Hyun, Kwak Si Yang. 16 episodes; action, mystery, rom-com.

27/1: Doctor Slump with Park Shin Hye, Park Hyung Shik, Yoon Park. 16 episodes; medical, rom-com.

31/1: Queen of Divorce with Lee Ji Ah, Kang Ki Young, Oh Min Suk. 12 episodes; law, drama.

Let's start the year with some good dramas!!

[billdenbrough]

did a flash fic challenge today & the character i received from the spin2win was kevin. @merceyca prompted “plexiglass” & immediately after that, @vykio prompted “haunted house”, because they love to make life easy for me LMFAO. predictably with this setup, this is kevaaron. so.

kevaaron + haunted house, plexiglass

“This was a terrible idea,” Kevin mutters.

Andrew obviously hears him, but predictably ignores him, instead choosing to poke experimentally at the cleaver hanging from the ceiling. Renee, at his side, gently lowers his arm.

Matt is sandwiched between Dan and Neil, a bit ahead of Andrew. Allison and Nicky seem to be competing to find the ‘hottest corpse’.

Aaron, bringing up the rear with Kevin, slants him a sidelong glance. “Because those two are three seconds from being sent to a sexual harassment seminar or because you’re worried Andrew will try steal a machete from one of the actors?” he asks dryly.

“They’re not sharp enough,” Andrew says blandly. Renee shoots Kevin an apologetic look over her shoulder—he’s not really sure why; or rather, the only answer that comes to mind is at risk of making him flush, so he beats it back with a stick—and loops her arm with Andrew’s, leading him further out of earshot. Andrew allows it.

When Kevin looks back at Aaron, he’s tilting his head.

“Or something else?” Aaron asks.

Kevin weighs up his options. Discovering no good ones, he grumbles, “I think I saw a clown chasing a toddler with a flamethrower.”

Aaron snorts. “The great Kevin Day,” he says. His tone is mocking, but like – in that Aaron way. Kevin doesn’t really know how to explain it. There’s mocking when Aaron means it, how he used to talk to Neil and the scathing tone he turns on the especially annoying freshmen on the line-up, and then there’s like this: that natural tilt to his voice, something blunt and sarcastic, but no force behind it.

Kevin’s seen what it looks like, after all, when Aaron puts his strength into it.

He’s about to huff—something waspish about haunted houses and horror films and the Foxes’ inexplicable idea of what constitutes ‘fun’—when Aaron shifts closer, the sudden flush of body heat emanating off him stealing the words from Kevin’s mouth.

Aaron doesn’t seem concerned with saying anything, so Kevin doesn’t either, just shifts his weight on his next step to move closer to Aaron, now that he’s allowed. Their shoulders brush. Kevin thinks again about Renee’s apologetic expression, and almost bites off his own tongue.

It’s two rooms later—after Matt had to pull Nicky back from peering into a coffin before a guillotine descended on him, and Dan swore loudly at a fortune-teller who appeared suddenly at her side and kept ominously intoning her name while Allison told Neil, yeah, so that’s why you never say anyone’s name in one of these things—that Kevin finally says, “It’s dark.”

Aaron opens his mouth. Pauses. Shuts it. Hums.

Kevin thinks he’s going to have to say more. Explain himself. Talk about claustrophobic spaces, stuck in the dark, threats of violence.

Then Aaron takes his hand, holding it tight, and it’s like the air goes out of Kevin’s lungs.

He thinks about the car ride over, when Aaron and Nicky debated which horror movie to watch later that night. Nicky had been texting the other car at the time, chiming in with suggestions from the upperclassmen, most of which Aaron had shot down. His knee had kept bouncing, the way it did when he was animated, or irritated, or annoyed, or over-tired, or restless, or a thousand other things that Aaron sometimes was, that Kevin sometimes noticed. He’d wanted to reach out and still Aaron’s leg. He hadn’t.

He thinks about a week ago at Eden’s, downing seven shots as he sat at the table, ignoring whatever the fuck Neil and Andrew were doing as he watched Aaron—fucking wasted—tilt his head back on the dance floor, the lights illuminating the line of his throat. He thinks about an hour before they left for Eden’s that same night, arguing with Aaron about something that didn’t really matter, until it did, and he was pressing Aaron against the plexiglass of the court walls, snapping at him, and then kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. He thinks about Aaron—pinned halfway up the wall, Kevin raising him up for a better angle, Aaron’s hand leaving an imprint on the plexiglass—kissing him back.

He thinks about a month before that, on the bus on their way back from a game against Belmonte, Aaron sitting beside him and—with a long-suffering sigh—offering one of his earbuds to Kevin. It hadn’t been music Kevin knew, which Kevin had said, to which Aaron had scoffed, and said, You don’t know anything that came out after the 1800s, which was rude, but possibly fair. Still, Kevin had argued the point, and Aaron had objected to each of his statements, and somehow they’d ended up spending the entire journey going through Aaron’s playlists while they tried to—in Aaron’s words—find ‘an actual music taste’ for Kevin.

Kevin thinks about all of these things, and about Renee’s apology, and about Aaron’s hand in his, and about Aaron shifting closer, and Aaron’s sidelong glance, and he swallows.

A clown could try murder him right now, he thinks, and he might not even notice.

Slowly, he squeezes Aaron’s hand: smaller than his, but firm, unwavering.

After a moment, Aaron squeezes back.