#I fused two of these together for this one

[starry-bi-sky]

I was actually thinking that Xin Yuan resembled Shen Qingqiu! Same wavelength! I think it'd be so funny if XY had no idea about it up until he actually meets SQQ in person, he's gonna be so insulted. Binghe thought that it was something like an intentional choice on Xin Mo's part, and when he voices this to Xin Yuan, Xin Yuan is appalled.

He doesn't know how this happened but he's blaming Airplane for it. Why did no one tell him he shared a face with the scum villain? No, no, why did no one tell him that the scum villain shared a face with him! He's older, he's existed longer, SQQ is the copycat!

LBH having to play mediator is hysterical. He is the last person who should be preventing his legendary demonic sword from doing a murder on his evil teacher, and yet here he is! Both arms wrapped firmly around Xin Yuan's waist to prevent him from tackling and disemboweling Shen Qingqiu.

SQQ: "Of course the little beast would find someone as beastly as himself to keep company."

LBH: "Hey remind me again, whose the one holding him back from killing you?"

That's a right trash fire happening. Xin Yuan typically tries to keep his grubby corrosive paws off LBH's mind, but when he kicks into a frenzy his control slips. LBH is not having a good time playing peacekeeper.

And yesss, Liu Zhihao!! I love him. He and Xin Yuan were the friends ever. I was very tempted to base him off YQY for the whole 'doomed soulmates' thing and the delicious inverse of roles, where instead of YQY!LZH getting his soul bound to his sword, it was XY instead, and at a much grander scale. But I was on a Liushen kick when I made LZH, so LQG-based he will remain.

Also, if there would ever be a reunion between the two of them post-Xin Mo-ification, the vibes would be the exact same as the "Congratulations, my love!" / "Please, my love!" agathario sound from tiktok.

I think if Xin Yuan's soul hadn't fused with Shā Mó, Liu Zhihao would've eventually kicked down the closet door and they would've ended up together. Either way, there's A Lot Of Feelings between the two of them that still linger even 1000 years later.

Svsss au where Shen Yuan transmigrated as Xin Mo. Yes, that Xin Mo. Obviously Shen Yuan is pissed at this development and tried to kick up a storm but can't because sword so he is stuck waiting for Luo Binghe to show up.

After dealing with the occasional demon and mindless boredom of being just a sword, Binghe shows up. Shen Yuan is just ready to throw himself at him so they can finally get out of the abyss and the rest of the plot to happen. Binghe is surprised to learn the super powerful sword that can rip through time and space is a chill dude that wants Shen Qingqiu's castration a little too much.

Eventually through the power of the system, Soul Eater logic, or straight up complaining to God himself (sqh), Shen Yuan gets the ability to transform into a humanoid form and Luo Binghe officially needs him carnally. Shen Yuan is so happy to have hands again that he totally missed how Binghe was looking at him.

Rest the au goes on with Shen Yuan pushing Binghe to get the plot going, trying to get him to get his empire, revenge, and wives as Binghe is trying to figure out swordception.

[mimomentomori]

Thoughts/Theories for Arcane Season 2 Act 2: Jayvik centered

Potential spoilers so read under the cut if you've watched Act 1!

To recap, at the end of Act 1 we see Jayce, Heimer and Ekko all get messed around with by the Wild Rune, causing anything linked to the Arcane to glitch out and malfunction. Based on the visuals and what we know about the characters it's likely those three will be scattered across time and space to different degrees;

Ekko will be gone long enough to be considered dead by the Firelights but return with his time powers to deal with the final confrontation with Noxus.

Heimer may be tossed back in time to confront his past trauma and be key in getting he and Ekko back to their correct time.

Jayce... He's gonna have the hardest time. He attacked the Wild Rune with the hammer which caused a massive reaction, so as a result he may be the one separated and lost in the Arcane dimension the longest. Based on the new Arcane Survivor Skin preview and the sneak peaks we got in both the newest teaser for Act 2, he'll most likely be stuck in this dimension for an undetermined amount of time, enough that it will affect his hammer directly and fuse the arcane shard in his cuff to his skin. The question is, how does he get out?

I think Viktor will be the key to his escape. Viktor, as we saw in his last scene in Act 1, is now inherently connected to the Arcane and by extension the Void given that he was fused with the Shimmer-tainted Hexcore. His continued use of the Arcane to heal his new followers will continue to destabilise the barrier between the realm of the Arcane and the material plane, but it could also potentially save Jayce.

If we're sticking with the Jesus/religious leader angle, Viktor was already shown to be having visions since he first coughed blood down into the matrix leading to the Hexcore's creation. After being fused with the Hexcore and by extension granted direct connection to the Arcane, he's been shown to be guided by 'Sky,' or at least a memory/fraction of her that now currently exists within the Hexcore and the Arcane.

My theory is, the more he settles into his new role and newfound connection to the Arcane, I think he'll start having visions of Jayce in the Arcane dimension and endeavour to get him out. While 'affection kept them together,' I think it's more than that now. They built hextech and the gates together, and with Jayce now directly affected and trapped by the Arcane they have a mystic connection to each other through the Hexcore. Despite their abrupt and bitter parting, I think seeing the main object of his affection trapped in such a state and clearly not yet fused to it like Sky is, he'll extend his power to get Jayce out.

Inevitably, this would lead to a potential clash/confrontation over both men's involvement of destabilising the Arcane in Zaun and Piltover... But I think in the end they will always do what they feel is right to save eachother.

I also want to add real quick that Ekko's criticism of how the Hexgates were built to send all runoff and potential fall out to the Undercity is valid and a gross oversight on Jayce's part, Viktor being from the Underground would have had to have a say in its design too so he will have possibly overlooked or felt confident this detail would be unlikely as well. Jayce and Viktor were partners on the project despite Jayce being the face of it; i.e. they're both responsible for what happened with the corruption and the Wild Rune.

With time being a key theme being shown in both the opening credits and how Ekko operates, it's looking like the theory that Viktor is the mage that saves young Jayve and Zimmena may be more likely than we think. But at the same time, even though we see in Viktor's new poster that he is able to thrive for some time, the plants that they experimented in did eventually wither and this may be a problem for Viktor as the next two acts progress.

Whether this means Viktor accepts or defies this rot to be in line with League Lore... I'm putting my faith in the writers on that one.

Let me know your thoughts!

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 73, Part 2

Downstar and Weedfoot are ambushed by… something.

[Image ID: Downstar overlooks a crowd that includes Oilstripe, Lavendertwist, Rabbitjoy, and Paleseed on the left, James, Carnationspeckle, Waspdawn, and Puddlewhisper on the right. Under all but Downstar, it reads + CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 3.]

Weedfoot woke up with a sudden, violent gasp. Her memory flashed, blood spasming to catch up to the present. Phantom pain pressed her into the moist grass. Breathe, breathe, breathe. No, not just that, move. Where was Downstar? She had been right next to Weedfoot, the two on their first patrol alone in ages, a flash to the earliest days of RippleClan… where had she gone? What had happened?

The creature. Weedfoot remembered it now. It had come out of nowhere. It was no dog, no wolf or bear or human. Something… thin, hollow, and hungry. Weedfoot grit her teeth so tight she thought her fangs would pierce into her brain. She forced herself up, the memories of claw and tooth sharp against her pelt. 

Weedfoot wanted to be sick. All she saw was blood on the grass, vibrant green turned dull purple in the late evening glow. It splattered along the tall pine trunks and pooled under Weedfoot. The stench of innards and exposed muscle twisted her stomach. But the worst part of it all was Downstar, laying with her back against an oak tree, battle wounds covering her bicolored pelt and a large chunk of flesh missing from her stomach.

“Downstar!” Weedfoot whined, scrambling to her friend and leader. Downstar’s chest shivered slightly. Her paws twitched. Her half-open amber eyes stared hazily at the horrific scene around her. Weedfoot skidded in front of Downstar, keeping her eyes away from her awful wound. Had she already lost a life? If she hadn’t, she was close. But she had five to spare, Weedfoot could get her to the clerics. She would be fine. Yet could she move Downstar with a wound of that severity? 

“I’m here, Downstar,” Weedfoot moaned, setting her paw against Downstar’s bloodied shoulder.

Her paw phased through Downstar’s body.

“She’s already lost one life. It’ll take another before we can heal her, and she’ll still be in danger.” That voice. Weedfoot squeezed her eyes tight, trying to fight back the wave of misery and hopelessness that flooded her face. Weedfoot heard that voice whenever her daughter shot out a clever remark or insightful comment. She heard it in her memories, both good and bad.

Puddlespeckle and Applepelt’s spirits stood beside Downstar’s dying form, pelts sparkling and shining onto her bloodstained fur. Weedfoot wasn’t sure she had ever seen her father look so young. She named Puddlewhisper right; she looked just like her grandfather. It had been so long, Weedfoot had almost forgotten the resemblance.

“Not now,” Weedfoot moaned, her whole body shaking in a decisive no. “Please, not yet, Father. Lightningkit and Cobaltkit are still in the nursery. Waspdawn just lost Littlekit, he’s been so strong, he can’t lose me too.”

“Weedfoot,” Applepelt warned, “as someone who cares about you, I’m telling you now, do not look at your body. You don’t deserve to remember yourself like that.” They walked around Weedfoot, pushing her head forward as it instinctually looked back. Weedfoot only caught a glimpse of her own bloody paw, claws splayed out in the heat of battle.

“Applepelt is here to take you to StarClan,” Puddlespeckle explained. “I… wanted to come with for this.” For a moment that disgusted Weedfoot as soon as it passed, excitement sparked through her chest. She would see Ripplefern again. Fennelspot and Burdockstream, Lavenderleaf, Wasppaw, Paleshade… but she would leave so many behind. The dozen different emotions battling for control in her chest fused together into a single clear thought.

Downstar needed help.

“I’ll go,” Weedfoot choked out, backing up, “but not before I save my friend!” She shut her eyes as she spun around Applepelt and ran in the direction of camp. She knew if she saw herself, she would lack the strength to do what needed to be done. She was still RippleClan’s deputy, and she would do her job!

“Let her go, Puddlespeckle,” she heard Applepelt snap behind her. “This will be better.”

As Weedfoot ran home, she noticed a strength in her muscles that had, day by day, left her in recent moons. She felt like she could run across all five Clans without so much as a single pant. Even her fur, translucent as she now saw it to be, looked brighter than it had since Scaleripple’s birth. The world, settling down into a cool summer night, was more alive than ever before. And all Weedfoot had to do to see that was die.

“Oilstripe!” she yowled, voice catching against the trees. “Oilstripe!” She had always wondered what it was like for her former apprentice to see the spirits of StarClan as they roamed their old home. How she hated to be one of them that day.

Weedfoot could see the shipwreck now. The decaying wood looked golden in the setting sun, with huge shadows of spruces, elders, and rowans dappling the rocky walls of camp. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt had somehow beaten Weedfoot to camp, but they sat on the Resting Place, watching quietly. Leathermask sat guard outside of camp, unflinching to Weedfoot’s call. Weedfoot slowed at the crest of the trees when Oilstripe hurried out of camp, wild eyes meeting Weedfoot’s. Weedfoot’s soul broke just a bit more; how often did Oilstripe have to learn of a Clanmate’s death in such a way? If there had been any better option, Weedfoot would have spared her dear friend the pain. But instead she squared her shoulders as Oilstripe bolted at her.

“No no no,” Oilstripe cried as she reached her old mentor, legs weakening with every frantic step.

“Stop,” Weedfoot barked. Oilstripe gasped, paws digging into the sand and dirt. “Oilstripe, I’m sorry, but you need to listen to me right now. You can’t save me, but you can save Downstar.”

“How—” Oilstripe whined. She panted so hard, she could barely speak.

“Just listen, please,” Weedfoot begged. “I need you to find Spikecrash, Rapidleaf, and Honeybuzz. It has to be Honeybuzz, not Troutpool, do you understand? I know your daughter, she won’t be able to focus on Downstar. Get those three cats and have them bring a long pelt and whatever medicine Honeybuzz needs to treat a gaping wound. Only bring those three, nod if you understand.” Oilstripe swallowed hard, but nodded. “Do not let anyone else come with you, especially not my family. Have the patrol follow you, and I’ll lead you to Downstar. Oilstripe, when I tell you to stop, you stop. Don’t go any further, just send the patrol forward and tell them to cover my body. Don’t look at me, I am begging you, Oilstripe, do not look. Do you understand?” Oilstripe nodded once more, paws twitching, ready to run. “Now go!” Oilstripe was off like lightning, scrambling back into camp with a yowl. Leathermask jumped as she soared past him. He followed the heartbroken molly back into camp.

Applepelt and Puddlespeckle were silent witnesses as Weedfoot led her Clan to Downstar’s rescue. She could see them, sitting, watching, waiting for Weedfoot to acknowledge them once more as she made sure Honeybuzz could save Downstar’s remaining lives. Weedfoot ignored her father as Oilstripe begged Weedfoot for answers that she could not provide. She stayed silent as Rapidleaf and Honeybuzz hurried Downstar to camp. She watched over RippleClan’s camp as one by one, everyone she cared for crumbled under the news.

As midnight crept closer, Weedfoot found herself tucked into the shadows of the medicine den, staring at Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw as they sat around Downstar. Bandages wrapped around Downstar’s belly, clean moss stuffed into the healing wound. Cobwebs concealed Downstar’s smaller scars, turning her calico. Weedfoot stared into her dear friend’s tired eyes and prayed once more that she could offer some comfort. Firelight dapped the den floor.

“If you don’t rest, you’ll lose three lives rather than two,” Honeybuzz muttered, testing the tightness of Downstar’s bandages. 

“Regardless, I need to gather the Clan,” Downstar sighed. “They need to hear from me before midnight.”

“That won’t be hard,” Weevilpaw gulped, glancing out of the den. “I don’t think anyone’s asleep tonight.”

“I promise, Downstar,” Troutpool said, touching her leader’s nose, “we’ll try a few rituals to figure out what attacked you. As soon as the half-moon comes around again, we’ll petition StarClan for more information.”

“Help me to the edge of the den,” Downstar said softly. “Weevilpaw… call the Clan for me.” Weevilpaw stiffened, nodding solemnly. Honeybuzz and Troutpool got on either side of Downstar, trying to scoop her nest with her. With Downstar providing what strength she still possessed, the three inched the tortoiseshell leader close to the entrance of the medicine den. 

“Downstar’s calling a Clan meeting,” Weevilpaw called hesitantly into the camp clearing. “Over here.” All of RippleClan sat before the shipwreck, sharing tongues and caterwauls. There was no body to sit vigil for; the look in Spikecrash’s eyes when she insisted on immediate burial silenced even the most curious of cats. Weedfoot’s family all sat together, piled on one another in shared misery. James was almost hidden under his sons and daughters. Even Scaleripple joined in, hiding his head in Waspdawn’s pelt. Lightningkit, Cobaltkit, and Waspdawn’s litter snuggled in where they could, their youth providing no hiding place for their grief. Stormkit, Yellowkit, and Sandkit seemed so… hollow. Oh why did Weedfoot have to be the one to bring such despair to their eyes? When did her family get so, so big?

All of RippleClan slowly made their way around the medicine den. Weedfoot sat beside Downstar, midnight cold sinking through her ghostly fur with every stare that passed through her. Oilstripe could not look away from her, gathered tightly beside Carnationspeckle, Rattlepelt, Tallowpaw, and Slushpaw. It was all Weedfoot could do to nod at her old beloved apprentice.

“What happened, Downstar?” James asked. Weedfoot had never heard such monotone from her mate before. 

“I wish I could explain it,” Downstar sighed, groaning as she shifted to look over her Clan. “My memory is foggy. I barely saw it coming. Whatever attacked us did so with brutal efficiency.”

“Was it another Clan?” Paleseed whined. “Downstar, what did they do to my mother?” Downstar flinched at Paleseed’s cry. Darkkick crept from the back of the crowd, and Paleseed pressed her head into the older molly’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Downstar said. “However… from what I remember, I don’t believe what attacked us was any living creature.”

“A Spirit of Shadow,” Trumpetspore yowled from somewhere in the back of the crowd. “It was a Spirit of Shadow! Not again! Not again!” Trumpetspore’s panic swept through the crowd. Estherfern’s kits seemed half their age as they pressed into their mother, whimpering. Currentpaw wailed as Elmsprout wrapped her tail over him. Rattlepelt slunk behind Carnationspeckle. 

“Please, everyone, we can’t panic,” Downstar called. She groaned as her stomach twitched, strained from the effort of yowling. “There’s a lot we don’t know about what happened, or why. We’ll take every precaution when leaving camp until we have this situation sorted. I will not abandon you. StarClan will not abandon us. We will figure out what happened, drive out this threat, and recover, as we always do.” The cooler heads in the crowd groomed the fur of their terrified kin. The Clan’s voices died down as Downstar took a few slow breaths.

“This Clan would not exist without Weedfoot,” Downstar sighed. “She and Paleshade were the spark that gave us life. When we formed RippleClan, we all wanted her to be our leader. She would have led us well. But she asked me to take my nine lives instead so she could grieve for her first mate and find her footing once again. I regret all the times my mind turned my heart against her, and I will always see her as my sister. It will be many moons before another deputy can match her in skill and wisdom.” Had Downstar always thought that of Weedfoot? Some moons it felt like the pair were always disagreeing on how to run the Clan. But that wasn’t the truth of their relationship, was it? “Despite that, we need a new deputy.”

“We’ve never had to do this before,” Carnationspeckle muttered. “We don’t have to follow the traditions of the other Clans. We can pick a new deputy in the morning, Downstar. It… it might be better.”

“I don’t want to wait long,” Downstar said, glancing at her wound. “I’ll be recovering for the rest of the moon, and the Gathering is in two nights. We need a deputy. And I know who I want at my side.” Downstar cleared her throat. “I say these words before StarClan, so that Weedfoot’s spirit may hear my words and approve my choice. The next deputy of RippleClan will be Oilstripe.” Weedfoot rose, the weight in her heart relaxing ever so slightly. Oilstripe stayed sitting, blinking rapidly.

“But…” Oilstripe gulped. “You don’t like me. You never have.”

“There’s a lot that we disagree on,” Downstar admitted, bowing her head. “Yet your intelligence and compassion have won you many friends. You are a major part of this Clan, and I trust you to lead it when I’m gone.” Oilstripe stared at Weedfoot, mouth half open in utter surprise.

“She’s right,” Weedfoot purred. She stood in front of Oilstripe, the soft glow of her transparent body shining against Oilstripe’s ginger fur. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to follow in my pawsteps.” Sparkling light danced behind Oilstripe. Puddlespeckle and Applepelt waited at the edge of camp, sitting patiently. Weedfoot blinked and found herself standing beside the pair just as the Clan began to chant Oilstripe’s name.

“Let’s make this official,” Applepelt chirped. She touched her nose to Weedfoot’s. Warmth flooded Weedfoot. Her pelt exploded in white light. Stardust sprinkled her body in vibrant patterns. Her blue eyes burned bright. Suddenly, she knew. She knew what happened to her. She knew what attacked her, where it came from, and what lurked over RippleClan’s head.

“We have to tell them,” Weedfoot said, turning back to her family.

“You can’t,” Puddlespeckle said softly. Just as quickly as the future unraveled before her, so too did Puddlespeckle’s meaning. She couldn’t. She literally, physically, could not tell them.

“Will they be alright?” Weedfoot gulped, forcing herself to look away.

“Life goes on,” Puddlespeckle promised. He gently nosed Weedfoot’s forehead. “You were a good daughter to have, Weedfoot. Now come along. It’s time to go.”

(Weedfoot: 122, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Puddlespeckle: 156, male, elder, strict, good hunter, good kitsitter)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Oilstripe: 77, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(James: 149, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Paleseed: 39, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Trumpetspore: 34, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Downstar speak with Weevilpaw, Anchovypaw, and Wolfpaw. Honeybuzz says "We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”]

---

“Anchovy! Anchovypaw, wake up.” Anchovypaw opened his eye half-way. Weevilpaw stared at him, nose inches from his face. He smacked her muzzle back with a groan.

“I’m tired, Weevilpaw,” he groaned, rolling over. “Can we do this later?”

“Downstar wants to talk to us,” Weevilpaw whispered. “She’s with Honeybuzz. Come on, it’s important!” Anchovypaw dragged his head up. Wolfpaw was already awake, fidgeting outside the apprentice’s den. The crest of the sun peeked over the sea, turning the sky purple. The sleeping forms of the other apprentices rose and fell with the soft pattern of the waves. Anchovypaw groaned as he got out of his cozy nest, warm from his body heat, and snuck around Billowpaw and Ravenpaw. Weevilpaw jumped over Silverpaw and followed her friend out.

It was the morning after the Gathering, and everyone was exhausted. Halibutdusk limped back to the warrior’s den, finally relieved from guard duty as Oilstripe guided Clammask and Drumtooth out on patrol. The purple light of the early dawn unnerved Anchovypaw that morning, even though he had seen that sunrise a hundred times. Weevilpaw led him and Wolfpaw across camp to the leader’s den. Anchovypaw could see Downstar’s eyes gleaming from inside her sheltered nest. Honeybuzz sat beside her, fiddling with a cicada wing under his paw. While the bandages around Downstar’s torso were no longer so blood-stained, black ichor still stained them like a hole in the world. Anchovypaw focused on his leader’s face instead.

“What’s wrong?” Wolfpaw asked.

“I spoke with the other clerics last night,” Honeybuzz explained, waving the trio closer. “I may have an explanation for your abilities.”

“Finally,” Weevilpaw groaned, kneading the leather-lined floor. “I knew we weren’t the first. I just knew it. Why else would there be so many stories of powerful cats?”

“There’s a reason those cats come in threes,” Honeybuzz sighed. Anchovypaw moved closer, almost forgetting to breathe. “We call it the Rule of Three. When times of intense peril approach the Clans, it is said the All-Seeing pulls water from the river of space and time and blesses three kits. It explains everything.”

“Intense peril?” Anchovypaw said, no longer able to keep his gaze from Downstar’s wound. “Like now?”

“We’ve come across two Spirits of Shadow in the span of three moons,” Downstar sighed. “Think about your powers. They are designed in just such a way to prove effective against spirits and their powers. You see their influence. You predict their moves. You can even trap them in place.” Downstar pulled a paw over her muzzle. 

“I don’t like using apprentices in this way, but I need all three of you on alert and ready to help. You may be all that stands between our safety and another of our kin leaving us, just like Weedfoot did.”

(Weevilpaw: 8, female, cleric apprentive, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Anchovypaw: 8, male, warrior apprentice, playful, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfpaw: 8, female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, curious about StarClan, confident with words)

(Honeybuzz: 21, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith)

(Downstar: 132, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

[yippeeometer]

here are some ships i believe in with my life with the full intent of pss pss pssing my fellow swashbucklers into my comments :D

NH/VT/ME. hammy monty and maine. not only do i think they match each others freak i think they actively make it worse. theyre the definition of new england gothic not in the sense that theyre trying to haunt people but in that they own lighthouses and like to stand in big empty fields freaking out the locals. also they dont come seperately im afraid monty IS inside maine's sweater during ur meeting

WY/MT. oh my god my wife is a bitch and i love her. my wife is a bitch and shes mean to me and im thinking of throwing myself into a volcano to see if theres any nice rocks i can get her. wy has the kind of social anxiety where he hasn't seen anyone in 6 months bc hes afraid to leave the house but he has to be physically glued to montana to not commit violence.

UT/CO/NM/AZ. my four corners you are soooooooo precious to me i cant believe it. theyre the warmest cuddle pile u can imagine. theyre hatting each other w sticks. theyre a one star rated tribute act. theyre the couple fighting in the dairy isle. theyre having dangerous sex to the soundtrack of paddington 2. theyre everything.

PA/MA. theyre just serving toxic codependent loserhood. they trauma bonded once when they were 17 and thats it since. theyre sooooo disgustingly meant for each other that youre begging them to just split off from the country bc getting a room just isnt enough atp.

WA/OR. breaking news the two worst people you know have found each other and have only enhanced the things about them you hate. they hate to see two bitches serving cunt but unfortunately, these hags are fused together and they'll stay that way to spite you. they publicly divorce 8 billion times a week but ore is caught multiple times gossiping to his husband in morse code when phones are eventually banned from the table.

NY/NJ i can't explain this one anymore than its just the most down bad behavior youve ever seen subtley disguised by the age old excuse of 'its just satire'. mans staring at ur ass in the meeting talking ab 'oh its for the bit'. im just saying ik you two like to fight but does he really need to straddle you to get a punch in.

IL/NV okay yeah it started off as a joke but like. the two scariest little freaks trying to out mafia each other. nevada blushing kicking his feet as illi sends his fourth hitman of the week bc nv was flirting w everyone and their mama to get back at him. utah looks at him with a mixture of confusion and dispear.

[monsterlets]

43.5% of you are right, it is shelmet and accelgor, I don't like the color scheme, I don't like the eyes on either of them, I don't like that shelmet is making a little kissy face, I don't like that accelgor looks like it has crossed arms and I struggle to read them as snails even after being told that they are snails

slugma has an unfortunate name but look at him, he's just a little slug made of magma with big goofy eyes and I love him. and magcargo, it's not what they were going for but he reminds me of the volcano snail

gastrodon (specifically west sea) is my favorite pokemon and both shelloses are sweet little adorable baby angels

sliggoo was my favorite at one point, still top tier, and I have a sliggoo plush. goomy is just a cute little pile of goop. goodra's prevolutions are vouching for it and also when I look at goodra I think of the one I had in infinite fusion which was in fact two of them fused together

wo-chien is just a snail made of a pile of dead leaves. and I love that

[bytheangell]

hello elle! i've noticed you haven't posted as much as usual and i figured that's something every writer goes through but i'm rooting for you! right now i'm trying to work on a waywood longfic that i hope to start posting this year 😅

hope things go fine for you, you always have my best wishes. since you said you're open to anything, maybe do you feel like to write more waywood? you'll have my enthusiasm and joy supporting you 😆

from the prompt list you posted, some i felt that waywood could go for were 4, 5, 7, 22, 47, 189 and 193. of course, you should only write what you feel like writing ☺️

(Read on AO3)

People always say that children can be cruel, but they often overlook the fact that they take after the equally heartless adults who raise them.

It was one thing when the other students taunted Robert for his family history - whenever he does too well, or too poorly, it’s either ‘good to know you’re smarter than a worm’ or ‘what did you expect from a Lightworm?’. Robert was used to that. No matter how far his family came, no matter how much distance they put between themselves and Benedict’s legacy, it never seemed to be enough.

It was another thing to have one of the Institute’s Professors step in to break up a fight and say “Why am I not surprised to find a Lightwood at the heart of another problem?” when Robert had done nothing wrong. He’d never done anything wrong. He’d done nothing but his best to keep turning his family name into something positive, something to be proud of. It was never enough. He was never enough.

And the one person who thought Robert was enough, Robert pushed away.

Robert didn’t wait for the Professor to finish before he turned, started running, and didn’t look back.

Robert hadn’t spoken to Michael in days now… or was it weeks? And yet in this moment, getting more lost by the second as he made his way through the pitch-black forest, everything inside of him screamed for Michael’s company.

Robert tripped over a root, or a rock and fell hard to the ground below. He felt a cut across his knee, the pain of a twisted muscle in his wrist, and even though he could get up if he wanted to he chose not to. He sat there, on the cold, hard ground, and his heart, mind, and soul all yearned for Michael to be by his side.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. He thought he may just stay on the ground forever, honestly. The next thing Robert knew, he heard the crunching of branches approaching, and then Michael was by his side.

“You’re hurt,” Michael said, reaching down for Robert. It wasn’t a question.

“Why are you here?” Robert asked, pulling his arm away from Michael’s reach and immediately regretting the action as a new sting of pain traveled from his wrist up the length of his arm.

“You’re hurt,” Michael repeated.

“The last time we spoke…” Robert trailed off.

“You were a proper asshole,” Michael confirmed, already pulling out his stele.

“Then why are you here?” Robert repeated.

“Because I could feel you out here, Robert. Hurting. Calling for me through our bond, whether you meant to or not. We’re parabatai…” Michael hesitated, but only for a second before pushing forward. “...and I love you. I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael held his stele over Robert’s healing rune, looking at Robert expectantly. Even after all this, he wanted to respect any boundaries Robert might set. Robert nodded slowly, closing his eyes against the comforting sensation of his parabatai activating his rune spread through him.

He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what he could say that would excuse his past actions, or show Michael the sort of appreciation he deserved for staying even now. Why should Michael bother to come all the way out here and help the person who kept trying to push him away?

But Michael was his Parabatai, and Robert should’ve known better than to think he’d have to say anything at all. In the silence that fell between them, Michael seemed to read his mind.

“I will always choose you, Robert. Even if you won’t always choose me.”

Robert didn’t deserve Michael, didn't deserve his reassurance and comfort... but just as Michael chose to be here, Robert could choose to accept it. 

And he did.  

[lemonwrap]

Thinking about Alone Ghost whose three heads can’t ever quite get along, always arguing and pissing each other off—but they unanimously come to the agreement that they really, really like Soap and they want to get all five of their hands on him as soon as possible, thank you very much

[madderruz]

scoobings

[adriartts]

goretober day 6: Transformation

this mermaid concept is not mine!!! it is cool as hell and comes from my homeboy @ch1ck3n-t03s

[megidoreyn]

Happy Satan Saturday! 🌞 Had to draw the canon Satan husbands fusion of Walter-Lucifer and Jonathan-Merkabah to celebrate😈🙏👼💕 I hope everyone has a great weekend! 💙💛

💙twitter 💙bluesky 💙misskey 💙pillowfort 💙poipiku

[teathattast]

i wanna hold you here forever

tell me if you feel the same about me

i won't put on any pressure

i just want to be together

[gcsly]

[quinn-pop]

sorry for the metadede flood lately um. anyway i think dedede officiates waddle weddings. if they even have them lol. it’d be funny and cute

[encrucijada]

let's bring back this trend?? @coffeeandcalligraphy and @onomatopiya did this as well, i took inspiration from both! chapter episode names and numbers might be moved <3 this was mostly for the sake of the edit

[ all transcripts below! ]

Show Summary: Adam and Malcolm are dreamers demoted from their place In the agency after they failed to stop their old team members from killing a dream.

Episode Two - Pointed North: Adam and Malcolm reunite with old friends and discuss how things fell apart.

Episode Three - Rising Smoke: Piedad, Hudson and Ericka find it hard to adjust to their way of life now that they must look after a kid named Lake.

Episode Four - Dead Species: Piedad and Hudson make an effort to understand Lake's dreaming, while Ericka looks for some normality.

Episode Five - Routine Call: Recovered from the stab, Adam returns to his everyday life as a dreamer though the glamour of it has faded.

Playing Episodes

Episode Ten - Shiver Light: [ADAM] You're not real, [DREAM PIEDAD] Does that matter?

Episode Fifteen - Eye Glare: [ADAM] I wish you'd killed me, [PIEDAD] Me too

[no1ryomafan]

This is 100% fic related but fuck it gotta throw it out to the world, here’s my headcanons on what I think the getters with personalities would be like: (note I’m counting the single units I. E. Every getter 1 is similar and not the individual forms, might change that at some point but we’d be here forever)

Getter 1: Actually not a hothead like most of its pilots, instead it’s a calm voice of reason, even if sometimes that calmness can be eerie. It stays collected to help its pilots rage but sometimes is influenced, whether that be getting too excited in a fight or just flat out arguing with them. It also is overall heroic which definitely comes from its pilot lol.

Getter 2: Very blunt and to the point. Is not fond of its pilot-*cough* mainly in the HAYATO case-but still tolerates them and provides advice/a strategy if needed. It’s kinda the grump of the group even if it doesn’t have a temper, it’s just nowhere near as calm and welcoming to its pilot as its counterparts.

Getter 3: The embodiment of 😋 Probably the closest in personality to its pilot and while Getter 1 cares, Getter 3 definitely loves its pilot when it gets the chance to be used. It’s very enthusiastic but doesn’t given its pilot any good pointers in a fight, mainly just rolls with whatever they wanna do. It seems less calm then the others but it truly is chill, in a more human way.

This is the idea I’m rolling with mainly for my getter/zx aus where the getters are teeny tiny pebbles but the more I thought about: honestly yeah if the getters could talk this logic could totally apply to canon lol.

[yaeggravate]

potential harbingers who are related or connected to kaeya from least to most likely:

pierro: in richard wagner's the ring cycle, alberich (aka kaeya's "Father") had a brother named mime. mime and alberich hated each other. considering hyv's love of terrible puns: mime = clown = pierro. occultist crowley compares pierro's tarot card the fool to the arthurian character percival/parzifal, the greatest fool of them all. parzival is the fisher king anfortas's nephew.

capitano: coincidentally, anfortas is the knight marshal of the schwannenritter and the alberich who became regent of khaenri'ah. anfortas's fate remains unknown. capitano's potential constellation the three nails is similar to the tarot card the three staves which is associated with the fisher king (anfortas) by poet t.s. eliot. more detailed post here

columbina: columbina is most likely a seelie. kaeya has a TON of references to seelie to the point where it cannot go on ignored. not going to list them all again but here's a brief summary. also a book that just got released adds more weight to this theory.

arlecchino: in the letters from the secret compartment, kaeya called someone "Father" in brackets. arlecchino is also called "Father". need i say more 😏