#and they were eternal friends

[mllenugget]

The exact opposite of being doomed by the narrative

I discovered this game while playing with a group of friends on Halloween, and I must say it was quiet immersive because we each wanted different things so we always had to argue together on what to do before the Voices would Took 3 days to complete a single run

[hyperfixatingsohardrn]

Viktor smells like Jayce Talis it’s canon

[thebrainrotsreal]

Freeing myself from the shackles of an organized comic format to get this idea out of my head!! Also, just follow the numbers if the layout is too confusing otherwise, but basically I want Spectra to be Jazz's Nemesis so bad. It just makes sense.

SO: the hypothetical episode's showdown would be them battling, and no Danny, he's already got beef with a packers obsessed billionaire. Now, Spectra's got the high ground with overwhelming power, but she's sloppier and easily irritated because of it! Jazz then outsmarts her, getting her angry enough to make enough mistakes to be corned and canned by the thermos.

Also minor spelling error ugh, meant to put "no one could", not "no could".

[chattematsu]

[4.0 archon quest spoilers]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 91

 “Elnath Peril Nightingale, I love you but what the fuck.” 

Danny was tired, he was really tired and could really use his partners’ help if they’d stop laughing at him. They were supposed to be lying low, they’d literally hopped to another world specifically to not bring attention to themselves. 

Yet here his darling clone-child was, beaming up at him while also holding the hand of… he isn’t entirely sure what they are except for some sort of undead. Some sort of undead who couldn’t sheath their claws and who had bright yellow eyes currently filled with utter befuddlement. 

 “I made friends! They were on the fire escape and this one was hurt and needs stitches. They have really weird yellow-ecto though…” 

 Ah. Yeah, that did sound kind of concerning. Maybe. Damnit he’d need to call Frostbite. 

[rockingtheorange]

"We could not talk, or talk for hours" -tzp 2024

(From @/deadline on ig)

[jade-bright]

og @stereksimp ...I did my best

Later, at the basketball game...

Home 58 - 55 Visitor [4Q]

Crowd: Defence! clap! clap! Defence! clap! clap!

Lydia: So what's the deal with you and Hale?

Stiles: What do you mean?

Crowd: Ahhhhhhhhh.. [58 - 57]

Basketball coach: Positions! Hale! Stay on your man next time!

Lydia: I mean, why the sudden interest in you? I didn't even think he knew your name before

Stiles: (muttering) ignoring the underhanded insults, (clears throat) I'm fairly certain he still doesn't know my name

Coach: Hale! Get your head in the game!

Lydia: So why the sudden interest?

Stiles: (sighs) I don't know Lyds, I bumped into him once, insulted him right afterwards and suddenly he's everywhere! The library,-

Crowd: Let's go Cy-clones!-

Stiles: the locker rooms before and after lacrosse practice,-

Crowd: Let's go! Clap! clap! clap-clap-clap!

Stiles: always close to where I park my jeep

Crowd: Let's go-

Stiles: And I'm pretty sure I saw him and some older looking dude staring at me during lunch one time

Crowd: Aw- Defence!-

Lydia: hmm, so Derek Hale

Crowd: Defence!

Lydia: star basketball player

Crowd: clap! clap!

Lydia: who likely receives nothing but praise by everyone

Crowd: Defence!

Lydia: suddenly gets put in his place by you

Crowd: clap! clap!

Lydia: and now seems to have a great interest in you...

Crowd: Defence! clap! clap!

Lydia: I think, he has a crush on you

Ref: (whistle) Number 31! Technical foul! Two shots! [60 - 59]

Both turn, and like most of the crowd, are slightly shocked since this is Derek's first technical foul. Looks to see there's less than a minute left of the game...

Stiles: Lyds...when was the last time we lost a game

Lydia: The year before Derek joined the team...

Other team makes their first shot [60 - 60]

Stiles: (looks over at Derek on the court, thinks about all the odd occurrences that have happened... thinks back to what Lydia said...goes a little pink) ...how sure are you?

Lydia: Completely

Stiles: Okay... okay

[60 - 61]

Stiles: (to himself) let's see what you're all about. let's see what you got Derek Hale

Ref: (puts his arm straight up into the air, three fingers up)

...

Ref: (puts his other arm up, holding three fingers up)

Home 63 - 61 Visitor

[goodlucktai]

gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

x

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain. 

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him. 

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face. 

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought. 

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side. 

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.   

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay. 

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache. 

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better. 

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt. 

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down. 

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you. 

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again. 

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though  eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers. 

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget. 

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. 

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there. 

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly. 

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. 

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’ 

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.” 

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely. 

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without. 

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale. 

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger. 

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again. 

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely. 

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”  

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly. 

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you. 

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both. 

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.  

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful. 

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there. 

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield. 

“Now.” 

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge. 

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership. 

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own. 

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read. 

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen. 

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met. 

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine. 

[justaz]

oh fuck merlin following after arthur for five seasons, at his heel following him into every battle, every fight, every quest without regard for his own safety. arthur dying on the shore of that damn lake and merlin dying with him but his body remains. arthur goes to avalon and merlin is forced to stay on earth. merlin can’t follow arthur this time. this is one journey merlin and arthur can’t take together. two halves split and kept apart for over fifteen hundred years. goddamn it. these fucking assholes never fail to make me cry. i hate them i hate them i hate them i hate them

[haliaiii]

Tatsuya what the fuck are you talking about

[adozentothedawn]

Pov: You just told the paladin some stew from dinner is still on their chin

[all-about-the-tea-parties]

The show consistently establishing that Ishamael Wants To Die™️:

Some ppl during the finale: umm??? How did rand kill him with just a sword? Why didn’t Ishamael fight back??? That’s so stupid! He’s a Forsaken™️ like, he wants to kill the dragon, Rand should’ve had to use the One Power

The writers: *slams head through wall*

[hyperfixatingsohardrn]

JayVik Evidence: Exhibit J

Jayce calls Viktor the word for “husband” in the Greek dub.

It’s Dean saying “I love you too” to Cas in the Spanish dub all over again

(saw this on TikTok)

[hanzajesthanza]

a book with geralt 😃

a book with geralt without ciri 😐

a book with geralt without yennefer 😔

a book with geralt without dandelion 💀

[floralhellscapedatv]

i am probably forgetting/overlooking heinous amounts of obscure lore with this but hear me out...

[Spoilers Ahead]

theoretically it should be possible for at least half the Veilguard to be some flavor of immortal by the end of the game. behold, my list:

Emmrich - Fairly obvious example if you choose the Lich route. We are not talking about the choice itself here, this post ain't about that, this is a "if, then" bullet point.

Harding - There's actual dialogue/party banter that speculates on whether or not Harding is immortal after merging with the Titan Shade. Can't really say if it's true or not, but it could be! Call it a non-zero chance.

Lucanis - This is my first real Hear Me Out example, but listen. Listen. As far as we know spirits/demons don't die natural deaths. So what's the deal with abominations? We don't have a lot of examples and Lucanis and Spite are particularly unique what with the whole Lucanis not being a mage thing, but... I'm going to call this another non-zero chance. We just don't know what the biological effects of Spite are on Lucanis. We do know that spirits can inhabit corpses, so there's some more morbid speculation to be done there but I won't be doing it here. Anyway I think it would be really funny if Mr. "Why Would You Want To Be Immortal?"/"Everything Dies" was little a immortal, as a treat. (For me, the treat is for me, Lucanis would hate it.)

Rook - Specifically for elf Rooks, sorry other Rooks. Listen, it's a major lore fact/plot point that elves in DA used to be immortal. The Veil cutting off their connection to the Fade also cut them off from their immortality, this is one of the reasons Solas feels he owes it to them to tear it down. And then Mr. Dread Wolf Immortal Elven God himself does a tiny bit of blood magic specifically to link himself to Rook so he can do dream projections in their head. After which Rook proceeds to spend months living in the Fade itself, plus running around the Crossroads shedding blood everywhere doing a bunch of fighting. What I'm saying is there are multiple reasons to assume that an elf Rook could be considered as re-connected to the Fade, so theoretically it's possible they have elven immortality and just don't know it. Maybe Solas didn't realize that'd be a potential side-effect, maybe he didn't consider it relevant to mention with everything else going on, maybe he thinks it's funnier to let them find out on their own, or maybe he just straight up forgot to tell them, who knows! All I know is that this sounds like a perfectly plausible consequence of Solas' questionable choices to me.

Based on that last point i do think there are (admittedly much weaker) cases to be made for Bellara and Davrin to also possibly have re-linked to the Fade and unlocked elven immortality, but I think an elf Rook being confirmed to have been linked via blood magic to an immortal elven "god" is more compelling evidence.

do i think all of this is canon? no, probably not. do i think there's enough wiggle room to come up with fun scenarios, headcanons, and AUs? yes, that's what i'm here for.

[braceletofteeth]

from right to left: The Wizard, his Boyfriend, and the Boyfriend's Best Friend and Their #1 Supporter