#but its pretty petty

[axolotlinabottle]

Listen I'm rewatching the Dragon Prince/the Mystery of Aaravos to prepare myself mentally to watch season 5 but like... can we please talk about the Moonshadow elves just assuming that people just abandon their posts/their jobs?? Cause they did that with Rayla's parents and then again with Rayla. Like ??? hello? what the hell? why are you assuming abandonment instead of any other possible outcome? I know that there are cultural differences and such but based on what we see from other elves, they don't tend to abandon their own kind unless forced too. And if the Moonshadow village knew Rayla since she was little wouldn't they have known she would never abandon the man that took her in after her parents died? I don't know. I want to know more about why they just assume abandonment when there are obviously other outcomes to be considered.

[intheholler]

i know tumblr didn't just,,

didn't just,,,, put this on my dash days after me complaining about people using appalachia as little more than a shallow, misappropriated aesthetic

like

lmao please say psych rn

yes, i get it, it's an ethel cain song. that still don't help nothin. she's from tallahassee like. pls

so what part of appalachia is nebraska in?? who knew this whole time appalachia, home to the appalachian mountains, was flat as a plank with nary a single hill to be spotted

new ARC map just dropped i guess. i threw in a lil bit of south dakota there too since we're just making shit up now. it has "south" in the name so it counts as southern gothic too right

point being: 'appalachia' is not synonymous with disrepair and decay.

we aren't a catch-all for decrepit buildings. we aren't the sole owners of poverty. put this energy toward fleshing out yalls own regional gothic (and midwest gothic is actually so cool, why wouldn't you want to???) and give it the same intrigue that appalachian gothic has garnered instead of furthering the idea that all we have to offer here is forsaken rot.

[keepingmyoptionsfluid]

I'm begging y'all to be sane. I get that it's exciting a show has got to 100 episodes and the show should celebrate that but also I need to be very clear (as someone who works in TV and has done for a fair amount of time), sometimes a big "milestone" episode are just a regular episode from a story perspective. Stop building it up to be something it probably won't be because the vitriol and ire that some of you have shown to the cast is frankly repugnant and you should be fucking ashamed of yourselves.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[hischiersjohnston]

POST-RAW 10.20.23 | jack hughes

[ghostiezone]

"....Ashe?"

"Who's that?"

short-ish fic under the cut because I had to be in the tranches about this :)

The Wards received the invitation only an hour before they arrived.

i know where to find your friend :)

The crumpled piece of paper looked like it had been drawn in crayon. It was stapled to the front door of their home. Their civilian home.

"Aux-" Failsafe started immediately, but Imprint's hand over his mouth cut off the name before he could finish. The boy wasn't in costume.

Imprint addressed him instead, cautious. "Ashe...?" He lowered his gloved hand from Failsafe's face and stepped forward between his two teammates, slowly, like he was approaching a cornered animal.

Wraith had been a stoic, silent presence since they entered the room, but Failsafe could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

The boy sitting on the edge of the desk looked.... young. Younger than he should. The shirt he had been put in was too big for him. Not in the same way his dad's jacket was too big for him- he used that like a turtle shell, something to retreat into, pull over himself like a shield. It was safe, warm, all-encompassing. Despite the issues they knew Ashe and his father had with each other, the love was still there. No, these clothes... they hung loose on his already skinny frame, making him look exposed. Vulnerable. They were monochrome, pale in a way that made him look washed-out, almost ghostly. He sat with his legs crossed, hands holding his ankles. He wasn't wearing shoes. One of the sleeves threatened to slip off his shoulder.

He tilted his head as they entered the room. The movement made Failsafe think of the stray puppies he used to feed in the alley behind their house.

His hair had been washed recently.

Something was very wrong here.

Ashe's face was devoid of all emotion. Though he was looking at the three of them, making eye contact, something seemed... distant. Failsafe reached out with his power and found... nothing.

He felt his heart seize in his chest. He frantically grabbed Imprint's hand before he could take another step forward, and tore his gaze away from Ashe to lock eyes with Wraith He hissed under his breath, he didn't trust his voice not to shake "guys, hes-"

"Breaker state, yeah. I know." Wraith finally broke his silence, voice stony and cold. "Don't get any closer to him."

At the sound of Wraith's voice, Ashe's eyes locked onto him. They were burning with an orange glow.

His head bent further to one side, and his face split into a wide grin that looked almost painful. Failsafe felt Imprint tense, fingers twitching like he was getting ready to reach for a weapon. He squeezed the wrist he was already holding. "Don't. We can't. That's still Ashe."

In that brief moment of distraction, the boy on the desk began to laugh. It was a broken sound, distorted, not like anything they had heard from him before. That deep orange glow in his eyes shone even through his closed eyelids. Wraith's cape billowed as he stepped in front of the other two, barking a clipped "Incoming!" as the space behind the desk began to distort.

Wraith's own warping powers sprang up in response, a translucent blue barrier forming in the air between the wards and their friend. As they watched, unsure of how to act, a rectangular shape began to appear in the air behind where Ashe was sitting, growing clearer and sharper as it eventually formed a sort of doorway. It was hard to look at directly, the light in the room seeming to bend toward the corners. The walls and floor buldged and sank in response to the tear in reality. The door itself was more like a window- a vague, distorted cityscape slowly coming into focus on the other side. The barrier began to ripple, as if it was made of water, as a figure stepped through it into the room.

Ashe's laughing was suddenly doubled as it became clear that whoever had just entered was cackling as well. It was an eerie echo- they were taking the same pauses for breath and short hiccups between giggles. Their shoulders bounced in matching tempo and their heads tilted back toward the ceiling at the exact same time.

The new figure was dressed in a long purple-grey patchwork coat, sleeves torn off and bottom hem ripped to shreds. He wore a darker purple scarf up to his chin, which flared out behind him into a tattered cape. The coat was sinched at the waist with a faded green belt, the end of which swung loose around his legs to give the appearance of a long tail. He wore some sort of blood-red bodysuit which concealed every bit of skin that would otherwise be showing. His darkened silver hair flared out around his head in wild spikes. Over his face, a circular mask concealed any distinguishing features. The mask may have been white once, but was now more of a tarnished brown. Two horns curled upward on either side of the face, which consisted of a cudely painted-on cartoonish black smile with squinted eyes.

"Why, if it isn't the Wards of New Haven!" The figure exclaimed, suddenly dropping into a deep bow. "You can call me the Trickster. Oh, I've been waiting so long to meet you!" There was a sort of childlike excitement in his voice, but there was a strain to it as well, as if holding back the laughter was causing him mental pain.

He turned his head toward Ashe, who was sitting motionless again on the desk. The figure cleared his throat, then in a harsh voice, snapped "You'd best show some respect in the face of such powerful heroes!"

As if dragged down by force, Ashe bent forward, nearly losing his balance and falling face first off of his perch. When he sat back again, his deadpan expression broke into a wide grin again. The smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What are you doing to him?!" Failsafe snapped, voice cracking with the panic of seeing his friend so vulnerable.

"Who, me?" The villain straightened back up, bouncing on his toes as he did. He flung a hand up to his chest in an overdramatic show of offense... and Ashe's hand made the same motion. In a cheap imitation of Ashe's voice, the Trickster echoed "I wouldn't hurt a fly!" As he did, Ashe muttered the same words.

"He's some sort of Master." Imprint's eyes were locked onto the figure, tracing his every move. The subtle shift in his posture put the image of a panther in Failsafe's mind. His next words were directed at the villain. "What do you want with Ashe?"

"Better yet, what do you want with us?" Wraith added. The strain of holding up a constant shield for this long was starting to take its toll on him, hands starting to shake. Even though the Trickster wasn't outright attacking them, knowing he was a Master with this kind of power was enough to keep them all on edge. They didnt know his limitations yet. "You were the one that sent us the note, right? Why bring us here just to stand there and laugh at us?"

The villain started cackling again, bending at the waist with the sheer force of his laughter. "Ashe?!" He straightened back up, mimed wiping a tear from the corner of the eye of the mask. "Who's that? Never heard of them!" As he stood up to his full height, he ran a hand gingerly through Ashe's hair. The boy didn't move, didn't react, despite Failsafe's immediate short burst of anger at the action. The Trickster clicked his tongue, continued to run his hands through Ashe's silvery-purple hair. As his hands moved, a glow began to spread from them. The same orange glow emanating from Ashe's eyes was surrounding the Trickster's fingertips. As he waggled the fingers on his free hand, little orange strings no thicker than spider silk extended upwards from them, seeming to disappear into thin air. The strings reappeared, wound around Ashe's arms. There was a loop around his neck as well, giving the sickening illusion of a collar.

"I just wanted to introduce the three of you to my Muse." He put an odd emphasis on that final word.

It was a name.

"And, to let you know he's mine now, and you can't have him back!" The static smile on the mask somehow looked devilish. It was such a childish statement, as if they were fighting over a toy on the playground, but it sent chills down all three of the heroes' spines. "Finders keepers, he came to me first! That means I get dibs." His voice dropped an octave on that last sentence, suddenly becoming threatening and deadpan. "Try to take him from me if you can. It'll be fun."

Suddenly, he spun on his heel, facing the doorway he came from. The rippling effect was starting to get more pronounced, more unpredictable. "Ah! But it seems like playtime's over for now. We'll see you soon, Wards."

Before he stepped back through the door, the strings around Ashe's limbs tightened, and he was dragged by some nearly-invisible force toward the doorway. He moved stiffly, as if the puppetmaster hadn't gotten used to moving him yet, but eventually he was pulled through the fading doorway.

The Trickster gave them one last mock solute before ducking through as well. The lingering echo of laughter hung in the room around them.

And Ashe- Muse- was gone with him.

[virescent-v]

Hey Reid Girlies

I swear to god I'm going to start blocking each and every one of you who posts a Reid fic with "Emily Prentiss."

You should not be tagging Emily in a Reid centric fic.

I will give you some leeway if she's in the fic, but if she's not like one of the main characters, don't tag her or anyone else that isn't the main character.

I don't know how many times other people in the CM fandom have to post this to get it through your heads, but it's annoying as hell.

I'm in the tag "Emily Prentiss" FOR EMILY. NOT REID.

Keep him to his own tag.

[faithinlouisfuture]

.

[danzafila]

i'm a petty bitch. if i see otherwise pretty art of a character i like spammed in unrelated characters' tags, i'll simply refuse to like/reblog it sry 🤷🏻‍♀️

[neurovarious]

when will people realize androgyne is "andro" and "gyne" meaning male and female respectfully therefore shortening androgyne/androgynous as "andro" does Not Work

[dmitriyuriev]

「これ大柑子十五あるベし」

"There are 15 oranges inside"

[saintshigaraki]

one thing about me is that i love apologizing when I've done something wrong

[captainadwen]

not gonna lie i am disappointed that the trailer music from the wild robot wasn't in the actual movie

[teddywesworl]

my tendency to think through things best when I write them down VERSUS how much of a bad idea it would be to put my thoughts about something on the internet

[why0should0i]

Rin itoshi is my favourite character in blue lock but he is truly one of the most pathetic guys ever....

The poor meow meow of all times... Just a 6'1 tall pathetic guy... He is so depressing and emo... Just sucks happiness out of the room he enters... Seriously, this guy is insane.. i want to know more of him... I want to look inside his mind and see what the fuck is wrong with him... Surely he can't be that trumatized...

Every character in blue lock: rin is so cool... Unstoppable... Undefeatable...

Meanwhile Rin: 24/7 emo mode... Sae what have you done with your brother... He is so fucked up

[my-elder-scrolls-shit]

I've been replaying skyrim and- "Uh oh, Aph! Are you getting philosophical about a mid game that you've played 80 billion times now?" Yes, of course I am. Now, my take of the day is Astrid gets a bad rap in the fandom

If you have personal qualms for whatever reason with her (Cicero fan, upset she got everyone killed, her voice, whatever it may be), that's totally fine! However! I just finished the dbh quest line again, and she's honestly not as terrible as we've been painting her, I feel.

When you first join, she's pretty attentive - clearly keeping an eye on you because you're new, but as you prove yourself and she can worry less, she seems to almost losen up. I do think she asks you to do things that she wouldn't ask anyone else because she's testing you or because you're new and she's not as attached yet, but its clear she has some kind if concern for you and your safety. Especially when the Nightmother incident happens, and she thinks Cicero might have attempted to hurt you. Then shit hits the fan (in her eyes)

Now, here's something that might sound strange - I don't think she decides to sell you out until the last possible minute. Why would she ask you to find her husband otherwise? Why would she keep sending you out to further the plot against the emperor and keep rewarding you? These are shows of trust- and while maybe some could be seen as implicating you further as the sole thorn in the side of the emperor, again, why send you to kill Cicero- to help Abjorn? Someone she loves and cares for deeply? Why not send someone more experienced?

I think maybe her paranoia ramps up after the Cicero incident for sure- she gets more flighty and decides right around when you are going to kill the emperor, when things are seriously about to change, does she panic. I mean, imagine you've led a group for years and some stranger you brought into your family like last week, and a jester who brought a sacred corpse with him is claiming the stranger is supposed to be the faction leader and the only one who can hear the dead lady's voice! That's a shit deal! What the fuck!

If something goes wrong, everything will go wrong. She's probably not had a lot of control in her life previously (note: her story about her uncle making "unwanted advances" makes me think maybe it's something that had been happening and she finally decided to kill him after snapping but she definitely glosses over it very quickly in favor of being murder happy which is understandable) and now that control is once again slipping and everyone else can see she's paranoid (multiple members comment on it if you talk to them before hopping in the Nightmothers coffin the first time) so it's not a big surprise that you, the threat to her status quo and control, seem like the one to take out

And it all goes to shit! And she seems so desperately and genuinely sorry on her death bed - everyone she loved and cared for is dead, mind you. This is a woman who has lost everything and is now begging to die for a greater good and a desperate apology to you and to the people she's hurt. The game clearly doesn't want you to forgive her (based on the dialog options it presents), but i wish we could at least say something kind. But I that might just be me