#Covid Warriors

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

Bottom left: Confirmed Disney Princess Warriors hanging out with the Fae

Top left: inspired by How NOT to Tell Your Friends You’re a Fairy by @bokettochild

Top right: it’s hard to be taken seriously when the fairies won’t stop braiding your hair

[crazycatsiren]

No, I simply cannot be positive all the time. I need to allow myself to be angry, because I have lost more than 50% of my life, and it sure as hell is something to be angry about. So I am so fucking angry!

[sprimpfriedrice]

White dungeon meshi fans sound like this to me:

It's extremely fascinating and frightening to me how hateful some of you people are towards shuro, a man who is clearly depicted as japanese, (a man who could look like me or literally any member of my family in real life) for being a normal, complex, and flawed human being.

Why do you single him out for getting frustrated with and mad at laios when chilchuck and marcille do the same literally all the time? What's the difference between them and shuro?

Why do you feel the unnecessary need to protect these white women from a japanese man?

Do you expect that this japanese man is inherently going to have some kind of ugly negative quality that has not been once hinted at canonically? Do you know what that's called? Because i do and it's fucking racism.

You people get scared the moment a character that is a person of color isnt a quiet little model minority or a sweet mammy archetype. You grasp at your pearls the moment they are revealed to have complex personalities and histories; when they feel negative, big emotions that are literally part of the human experience. Or god forbid, when they show romantic interest in a pure, helpless, little white woman.

And when a person of color stops behaving good and docile the way you want, when they decide that theyre not going to put up with a situation that makes them uncomfortable or miserable or RIGHTEOUSLY FURIOUS, they become the bad guy. As seen countless times in the medias demonizing depiction of the Black Lives Matter protests and even of black people who get punished for just living their lives. It happens so often i shouldnt have to reiterate it to you but it somehow keeps flying over your head.

And when that dirty, conniving, perverted, slant eyed, buck toothed, stumpy little japanese man understandably snaps at the white person you guys are projecting onto and all you see is this:

So dont be surprised when i say that id rather kill myself than entrust the safety of my oldest aunts and uncles or my youngest cousins with any of you who act like this. Im terrified of what could have happened if people like you worked at the facility that my great grandmother lived out her final years in. Would you have seen her as a wild animal that needed to be subdued too when she had one of her many dementia-induced violent episode?

I will not apologize for saying that i find it deeply disconcerting to see so many of you happily posting hateful vitriol or even about committing acts of violence against a man that looks like me, solely because he was experiencing his humanity

[emylilas]

“I know what it is to feel you deserve something different than what this life gives you. To wonder why you couldn't just stay home, love the people you love, grow old with them, protect them, support them. But the truth is you’ve been called to greatness… The fate of all of us rests on you now. On the decisions you make in the coming days. On the strength you find within. [The wheel] calls you to this, whether you can bear it or not. The Last Battle is coming. What any of us wants now is meaningless.”  - The Wheel of time, S1E6, "The Flame of Tar Valon".

[piratekane]

Has anyone asked for a 10 and 18 combo yet? 👀

not yet they haven't. so here you go.

ten: don't scare me like that eighteen: i can't lose you

Beatrice doesn't see Ava go down; she feels it.

One moment, there's a heat at her back that's so familiar - from the nights they spent back-to-back in their bed, from the days they trained back-to-back in the forests surrounding the Alps - and the next, there's an emptiness. Someone drives their fist at her. She catches it, turns his wrist over until it nearly snaps, then drives her foot into the center of his chest. His whole body deflates and he sinks to the ground.

She spins, clear eyes scanning the field. This was a routine retrieval - a grab-and-go, Ava had called it, and then suggested they go-and-grab something to eat after with a rakish grin. But between reconnaissance and arrival, the facility had obtained more guards, more security measures.

Ava had stayed at her back, sticking close. Beatrice noticed she had a tendency to do that, now that she's returned. They're hardly apart anymore; Ava is always a half of a step behind her or a half of a step ahead of her. Every time Beatrice turned to look at Ava, Ava was already looking back at her.

The attention was intoxicating. She's never been the center of someone's world before.

But Ava moves away and goes down and the emptiness Bea felt for months surges forward, nearly choking her. She spins again but things are moving too quickly, too many men, and she can't see Ava immediately.

Taking a deep breath, she centers herself. Her eyes close and she exhales. Ava is... there. This is new, too. This almost supernatural awareness of where Ava is, when she is out of reach. Beatrice focuses all her energy on that now, eyes opening just an stun baton swings down towards her. She kicks out, foot catching the man's knee and pushing it out unnaturally, eyes ahead.

Another man, another stun baton raised above his head. He's standing over Ava this time. Beatrice flicks her wrist and a throwing knife embeds itself in his arm, the baton dropping uselessly to the ground.

She follows, her body its own knife, and kicks him to his knees, jabbing two fingers into his throat. His hands goes up around it, choking out a cough, before she shoves him over. He starts to squirm away and she lets him, eyes only on Ava.

No, no, no. Ava lays there, unmoving. Beatrice drops to her knees. Her heart is pounding in her chest, beating out Ava's name over and over again. She feels for a fluttering pulse but her hands can't find the staticky rhythm of it. No, no.

Heaven took Ava once before; it's not going to get her back. Not when Beatrice is going to hold on until her fingers break.

The Halo. The Halo hasn't activated, hasn't kicked in yet. Ava said it was being - God, what did she say? Beatrice racks her mind for it. A fickle bitch. She nearly crosses herself. It had been finicky, picky about when it wanted to work. A paper cut hadn't healed all the way, leaving behind a small sliver of a cut, but the long slice down Ava's calf after she backed herself into a throwing knife was gone in a breath.

If it fails Ava now...

Beatrice takes a shaky breath and touches the Halo like she always has, presses two fingers against the top of the perfect circle, and exhales. She thinks of Ava's smile when she steals the last piece of bacon at breakfast. She thinks of Ava's laugh behind the cover of the book, Go The Fuck To Sleep. She thinks of Ava's hand sliding along her arm as she convinces Beatrice to stay in bed just a little longer. She thinks of Ava's body, warm and sleepy and pressed to her back, palm flat against her stomach as she snores gently in her ear.

She thinks - God, don't do this again and puts her fingers to the relic buried in Ava's back, believing in Ava, the highest power she knows of.

A burst of warm, golden light explodes around them. It blinds her, leaves stars in her eyes as she tries to blink her vision back into focus. She looks around when it does - bodies, strewn out along the floor in all positions; Camila and Lilith and Dora all standing with their arms over their eyes, crouched down in defense.

Ava groans under her hands. "That's one hell of a wake up call." She rolls over, body half propped up by Beatrice's knees. Her eyes flutter open and closed. "I felt that, like, all the way down to my toes. That was even better than that thing you did when you-"

"Ava," she chokes.

Ava's eyes open fully. "That thing was really good. You can't tell me it didn't completely rock your-"

"Don't scare me like that." Beatrice blinks back the tears that try to come now. "I can't-"

Ava softens, but her smile is still crooked. "Top 5 moments, for sure. Right after the time I- Hey. Hey, don't cry."

Beatrice doesn't know she is. But then Ava's hand reaches up, fingers still a little shaky and she brushes a few of them off the bottom of Beatrice's chin.

"I don't know how many times I can tell you, I can't lose you." Beatrice has to fight to get the words out, her throat closing at the idea. "You can't put me through that again."

Ava tuts but she can see the fear in Ava's eyes, the uncertainty. "Next time, I'll make sure to take your feelings into consideration."

Beatrice nods, not trusting the quiver in her voice. She runs her hand through Ava's hair, feeling a small cut fade away under her fingertips. She breathes in slowly, centering herself again. The mission means nothing to her now; they could leave and she would never care if they found what they came for. She came in with Ava and her only priority is to leave with her.

"But seriously?" Ava groans again and sits up, letting Beatrice hold onto her. "I feel like a car that's just been hotwired. It has never done that before." She turns Beatrice's hand over in hers. "What did you do?"

"I just... touched it." Beatrice frowns.

"I've always said you have the magic touch." Ava looks up as the other approach. "Lilith, don't I always say that Bea has the magic touch?"

Lilith rolls her eyes, ignoring Ava's question.

Ava leans a little heavier into Beatrice's side. "I vote Lilith goes alone the rest of the way. I definitely want to wait in the car." She lets Beatrice slide an arm under hers, standing her slowly. "Bea, we can - stop crying."

"I'm not." She is.

Ava rests her forehead in the juncture of Beatrice's neck, right where her collarbone dips in. She feels Ava breathe more than she hears it. "I'm not kidding about waiting in the car," she murmurs. "And if you want to leave an adult in charge, Dora is right there."

She hears Lilith huff, hears Dora's shoulders straighten in purpose, hears Camila laugh softly, but the sounds are drowned out by the small press of Ava's lips to the space under her chin and the squeeze of Ava's hand over hers.

They'll have time later, to figure out what happened with the Halo. They'll visit Jillian and there will be tests to run, numbers to crunch, exercises to try. Ava will hate every minute and Beatrice will have to convince her to just go along with it, make a few promises Ava will undoubtedly hold onto.

"What about tacos?" Ava asks. She grins when Beatrice gives her a withering glance. "I could settle for pancakes, if I had to."

"Ava," she chastises.

"Fine." Ava says it like it pains her. "We'll get those fancy salads you like and I'll get mine with steak, hold the lettuce. Does that satisfy Her Majesty?"

Beatrice doesn't bother with an answer, putting one foot in front of the other with Ava wrapped around her and telling herself that Ava is going to stay at her back always - even if that means she needs to tie them together for the rest of Ava's lives.

[tashacee]

Brotherhood

(War of Eras, Warriors meets Mask and Wind)

“HEADS UP, LANDLUBBER!”

Link swung around just in time to see a massive lizalfos lunge towards him, only to find its head sliced open by a flying flash of yellow - was that a boomerang?

The lizalfos dropped to the ground and began to disintegrate, and Link saw a child standing a few feet behind it, merrily reaching up to catch the boomerang. He beamed, tucking it into a pack and pulling out a sword.

“Morning, bucko!” he called, jogging over to meet him. The kid didn’t even come up to his chest and was wearing a long blue tunic that didn’t look like it would offer any protection in battle, sandy blond hair waving in the breeze as he ran. His skin was tanned as if he spent a great deal of time outdoors, perhaps a farmer’s child?

Who the hell had let a kid onto a battlefield?

read the rest on AO3

[jus-a-lil-mouse]

DannyMay Day 21: Funeral

MORNINGDOVE: Gray and white cat with blue eyes and a melodic voice.

DannyMay Day 22: Song Lyric

STORMSKY: Black molly with blue eyes.

DannyMay Day 23: Reflection

STILLWATER: Stocky gray tom with calm blue eyes.

DannyMay Day 24: Electricity

CRACKLEFEATHER: Black tabby tom with vitiligo. (Technus)

DannyMay Day 25: Games

BERRYBOUNCE: Pale tortoiseshell with limitless energy. Caretaker tasked with watching over kits and teaching them the basics.

DannyMay Day 26: Shoes

WHITEFOOT: Dark gray molly with white paws.

[moonshynecybin]

angel of small death and codeine scene is a rosquez song <3

~Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile

It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet~

Literally motogp guys coming from the track

[xenite51]

Once again I have Covid 🙄 Watching In Sickness and in Hell helps though…hopefully I don’t run into any rabbits cuz this amount of NyQuil might make me hallucinate 😵‍💫

[smewduck]

first 2024 Night art she’s arson. ing. (what even is the word for that.) like she deserves

[crazycatsiren]

Brain fog like... I'm so proud of myself for showering and shaving! Um... did I brush my teeth this morning?

[kenshivshow]

hey hey!

it's that time again......succession fan fiction posting announcement! I'm so excited because the double date WIP is finally complete with chapter 3!!!! this concludes part 2 of the HKCU (housewife kendall cinematic universe, obviously) but more definitely to come.

this has been so much fun to write. honestly thank you so much to everyone who has read so far, I can't say enough how much it has meant to me. and if you were waiting for it to not be in-progress anymore to start.....voila!

[voidedleylines]

FFXIV Write Day 8: Free Day (Shelter)

In which theres a quiet scene of a lazy morning

Rating: G || No CWs apply || Dawntrail setting || Warrior of Light/Hien

Enjoy!

The smell of the ocean water wafts into her cabin and she smiles as she clings tighter to Hien. Relishing in the way neither has anywhere to be for the first time in…ever.

He chuckles and rubs a hand along her arm that lays across him. “Good morning,” he whispers.

Freyalin responds with a content hum as she looks up at him and pulls herself up to capture his lips. He deepens it quickly as he moves his hand to the back of her head.

Together they lay in Tullioyal in a land halfway across from where they both knew. Her new home away from home, she was able to steal him away from his duties so they could get a brief chance at a proper honeymoon. A chance to just be with no titles or duties; no matter how brief the reprieve.

They stay like this until mid-afternoon when both their bellies beg for a meal. They both laugh at the intrusion and she gives him one last kiss, before they leave to roam the streets hand in hand.

[piratekane]

28!

twenty-eight: how long has it been since you've slept?

trigger warning: character death

Beatrice is tired.

She carries a weariness that settles in her body, a bone-deep ache that wakes her most mornings. There are days where it hurts to open her eyes, stings when she breaths. Her hands, once her greatest weapon, seem to be her greatest weakness now. She drops things, can’t quite grasp them between her fingers. Her body tightens as she bends to pick them up, just to lose them again.

She is getting old. And she is tired.

She spends her days in the east wing and her nights in the west. She likes to track the path of the sun, seeing each day pass in a slow progression as it climbs higher and higher in the sky until finally, like her, it sinks back down into the horizon to fight for another day. She hurts more on the sun-less days when the clouds push at the windows, threatening to break them. But then the sun comes up again, she walks from the east to the west, and she says a prayer for another day.

At night, she dreams. Always the same one, always the same place. She’s back in that small apartment, stretched out on a lumpy mattress with her toes nearly hanging off the end. A blanket is pulled over her head and the air is hot and there’s hair sticking to her cheeks, but she is smiling and Ava-

Ava is always there. Ava is always smiling back at her.

Beatrice is old. And she is yearning.

“Bea,” a voice whispers.

Ava is here. Ava is smiling at her.

A hand curls around hers, strong fingers dancing over the peaks and valleys. Beatrice follows it for a moment, lost in the feeling, before she remembers Ava is the one the fingers lead to. She inhales, lungs aching at the pressure.

“Ava.”

Ava’s smile widens. “I always liked the way you said my name. Have I ever told you that?”

No, but she knew.

Ava walks her fingers over the thin skin of Beatrice’s wrist. “You grew up,” she says casually. “But I always thought older women were hot, you know?” She grins, all teeth. “Not that you were ever not hot. With and without the whole nun get-up. You were a… wait, I remember hearing this once…” Her forehead wrinkles as she thinks. “A smoke show?”

Beatrice laughs. “I don’t know.”

Ava shrugs, uncaring, but her voice quiets. “It’s been a while.”

“I grew up.”

Then Ava’s smile is just as quiet. “I tried, you know. I- I fought, every day. To come back to you. You know that, right?”

Beatrice drops her weathered hand over Ava’s. “I know you did.” She shifts in her seat, the soft back of the armchair she’s picked today easing the ache. “I know you would have if you could have.”

“I guess it’s the next for us, yeah?” Ava let’s go of her hand, settles for leaving her fingers curled in the soft sweater Beatrice chose today. “I just kind of hoped it was this one.”

There’s a million things she wants to say. It was this one for her. And it’ll be the next for both of them. But her thoughts get tangled, the words knot in her mouth, and a yawn escapes, unbidden.

Beatrice is old. And she is tired.

Ava’s eyes watch her curiously. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?” She strokes a hand down over the curve of Beatrice’s cheek. “You’re never good at taking care of yourself.”

Beatrice tries to remember, but she can’t. Maybe the last time she rested was years ago, tucked into the Swiss Alps and Ava’s side. Maybe it’s been that long, the peace in those moments never following her through the days and months and years since Ava. But Ava looks at her as if she knows.

“Come on.” Ava’s eyes, honeyed in sunlight, sparkle. “For old times sake?”

Ava doesn’t have to ask; Beatrice will say yes to anything, if it means Ava will stay close. It takes effort, bones creaking, but she manages to shuffle to the side, create a bit of space for Ava to slide in next to her, fitting their bodies together as if they were never apart.

She sighs, the tiredness ebbing away as a contentedness takes its place.

“Sleep, Bea.” A hand strokes into her hair, scratches lightly at her scalp. “And in the morning, we’ll be in the next.”

Beatrice, alone in her chair, closes her eyes for the last time.

[vivirrins]

[shy-forceghost]

First it was Lorena, who wasn't aware she 1. got wings and 2. was going to kiss Adriel

And now we get to know Thekla (Jillian) didn't know Michael was going to go be back haha

Warrior Nun actors really experienced the plot twists in the same way we did haha (also the implication that even the makeup artists knew)

Source: AngeChats with Thekla Reuten of Warrior Nun