#but this one made more sense

[blaithnne]

Live Mel reaction

[wanologic]

and they were roommates

[chloesimaginationthings]

New Patreon tier art now FNAF themed,,

[spaceybot]

Found an angry blink-and-you-miss-it Prowl in TF One

[forgettable-au]

END OF CHAPTER ONE

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 65-72)

* Time to put this puzzle together.

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[spacerockband]

Legend tells of the carp that leapt over the Dragon Gate at the crest of a river and became a stand up comedian.

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[hinamie]

congrats on your recovery n all yuuji but unfortunately for you I thought the scars were cool >:/

[meamiki]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh

[ofswordsandpens]

actually I do want to talk about Sally Jackson a tad more because one criticism I've been hearing about her book counterpart more recently is "book Sally is one-dimensional: the perfect mother with no flaws" and that just has me biting my cheek because one part of her book counterpart that I always thought was ripe with discussion and didn't make it to the show is that Sally states that it was selfish of her to keep Percy close. It's one of the last things she says to him before she's "killed" by the minotaur.

And there's so much that we don't know about Sally because we view her from Percy's eyes. From his perspective we know that she's exceedingly kind, she never raises her voice to him or even Gabe, and she endured a horrible and abusive relationship to protect her son from monsters (of a different kind).

But there are things we can piece together from the text: Sally has known about CHB for a long time, apparently since before Percy was even born because Poseidon told her he wanted to send Percy there; she was told that it was a mistake for her to keep Percy close - who told her that, we're not sure, she only uses the phrase they; she's been in contact with Grover through out the school year; she knows that she can't cross the camp boundary line, which means either Grover or someone else (Chiron? Poseidon?) told her that, and that she understood that there was place that Percy would be safe from monsters.

And all of these little details are so interesting because it does make you wonder just how much she did or didn't know. Was her self assessment right? Was it selfish of her to keep Percy close?

On one hand, she kept him close because she loved him, alongside the fear that if she sent him to camp, she would be saying goodbye for good -- so is it even fair to call the act of keeping him close selfish? Or perhaps, much like Chiron, she assumed keeping Percy in the dark would be safer?

But on the other hand, Percy had been attracting monsters all his childhood, she understood camp was a safe place from monsters, and she had apparently been told explicitly that it was a mistake for her to keep him close.

And then adding in the factors of: Percy is her only family in the entire world, she's been suffering with Gabe for years, sacrificing so much in order to keep Percy safe when he's at home... but even that has a touch of sad irony because when we meet Percy in tlt, its at point when he's not really home at all -- he's been regularly sent off to boarding schools, so much so that he's internalized it as his own short-coming.

And all of this isn't to say "Omg Sally is actually horrible" or to assert definitely that she is selfish... but more to speak to the fact that in the books, she's not an all-perfect 2-dimensional mother. And her self-assessment of selfishness is something that is really interesting to explore and debate given the implications of what she apparently did (or did not) know about the godly world. I feel there's even an argument to be made that Sally being "selfish" could be a reflection of Percy's fatal flaw.

[tending-the-hearth]

never getting over the fact that at the start of "the outsiders" when ponyboy is getting jumped, while the rest of the gang goes after the socs who attacked him, darry is the only one who goes straight to ponyboy to make sure that he's okay, he doesn't even think to go after the socs, his only priority is going to his baby brother and making sure his baby is okay

[randomminty]

Five billion octopath 2 scribbles i feel sick

[loversmore]

“to find our happiness as best as we can, let’s give it our best.” – han

for @hyunsung ♡

[vaguely-concerned]

on the one hand I think inner demons could stand to have a bit more romanced rook specific content, but on the other hand the underlying in-built implication that 'yours is the one true voice of comfort and safety in my inner world' is a sentiment and intimacy so way beyond the romantic or the platonic or any secret third thing you could care to name that it makes me lose my entire poor little mind a bit. it's so big and fundamental — near-existential — that in that exact moment at least the distinctions kind of seem irrelevant.

all the people lucanis' mind conjures up along the way are relationships he has that are unavoidably mixed and fraught in some ways even when they're also full of love (they are fraught BECAUSE they're full of love) — the good in them inseparable from things that hurt him at the same time. (it's about: the basic disorganized attachment patterns this poor guy is dragging around with him. careful with those, they're dellamorte heirlooms. what you love also inevitably hurts you and you won't be allowed to have one without the other, you have to surrender parts of your soul to hold on to what little you have left: this is the story up until now.) and the idea that rook isn't that to him — that beneath the fear of wanting them when romanced (which is more its own separate thing because within this psychology, actively wanting something and not just clinging on for dear life to even a meager status quo lest you lose it is in itself dangerous bordering on catastrophic), this is a relationship where there isn't resentment, or guilt, or shame, or dread, or rage, or self-hate, or any of the other emotions that keep him paralyzed, unable to move this way or that. no debts, nothing owed of yourself and your soul's substance except what you can freely and safely and happily give. love and freedom don't coexist — but, I mean, you're almost starting to make me think........... unless...👀👀👀. the unconditional and undramatic 'you are here and I am here with you, you can be exactly how you are right now with me and it's safe for us both even though you're afraid it won't be, I'm not going anywhere' acceptance rook shows him here that he returns to them in the big romance scene, when it's rook who needs it. the way he's just. standing there in the center of it all, like a child desperately helplessly waiting to be found, hiding in the place he hopes you'll know to look first. (rook does know. it's one of the first things they say in there.)

in short the most important room in his little mind palace for the romance is the very first room — the one where rook isn't. where, in fact, rook cannot be, because they disprove the entire structure of the place with their existence and presence in his life. with everyone else he's putting words in their mouths about what they think of him, and rook is the one who actually gets to come in to speak their own words to him — and have him listen. ('he'll listen to you, he always listens to you', 'your voice is a comfort'.) of course rook isn't present anywhere else in there — at the risk of stating the obvious to a tedious degree, they aren't one of the locks, they're bringing the key. in the very finest 'the messenger and the message' sort of way.

[kuruasu]

You have inflicted me with visions and thus I must return them. Enjoy.

.

Get iron. Find someone alone. Kill them quickly. This is the mantra Scott whispers to himself, struggling to think past the bloodthirst of the curse and the tick tick tick of precious time slipping away.

Technically speaking, he doesn't have to rush. He has hours before the boogeyman decides he's failed and takes the penalty, but that's hours of people working together, forming trust that could be betrayed or teams that could defend each other or hunt for revenge. Better to do it fast, when there's no deep emotional investment yet, nothing to really lose.

Tango, Impulse, and Skizz are all together when Scott finds them, but they're easily trusting so early on. Skizz eyes his shield and Impulse warily calls his iron axe menacing, but they just as quickly brush it off to ask if he's seen any cows.

They split up with barely any prompting, and then Scott has Skizz alone.

"Life is short," Skizz says, and he almost laughs at the irony. The curse roars in his ears, and he can practically taste how easy this is, axe and shield in hand, standing above an unarmed, unarmored, utterly alone Skizz.

Standing above, his common sense whispers, because you're on the bank, and he's in the river.

That breaks through the red haze and makes Scott hesitate. The riverbank is wet enough to squelch under his shoes, but while he's still nice and dry, Skizz is in the river, water lapping almost waist deep as he steadies the boat holding the cow.

Surrounded by water. Dripping with it.

He hesitates, instincts split between longing and fear, but he knows this is the best chance he has. The others won't be gone for long.

"You gotta live to the fullest," Skizz says, not even looking up, "and murdering isn't part of it!"

The curse pulls at him, and Scott steeles himself; he'll just have to be careful.

"Well for some people, murdering is."

He raises his axe.

"Sorry."

Skizz turns fast enough to catch the first blow on an arm. He yells, reaching for his pick, but Scott is quicker and the next blow slams right into his throat. The curse surges at the blood spraying from the wound, and Scott can't help the twisted grin as he strikes his prey.

Skizz buckles, something like betrayal in his fading eyes as he splashes into the water. Scott pants, adrenaline and bloodthirst and red red red all twisting together into crimson satisfaction.

"There we go," He murmurs as the body vanishes back to spawn. He can feel his lifeline grow longer with stolen time. He can feel the frantic ache of knives in his soul drain away as the boogeyman leaves him.

He can feel water on his leg, from where Skizz splashed him.

The lingering haze vanishes in a rush of clarity, and he has a split second to think oh no before it hits.

His skin itches, the feeling of wetness spreading in an instant to engulf him in the sensation of being underwater, of being made of water. Bubbles course through him as his magic reaches a tipping point and surges, flesh and bone nothing more than malleable water flowing with the current. Water, boiling to vapor and coalescing to liquid and finally freezing back into a solid form, and gravity reasserts itself on a body that can no longer stand and he slams into the ground.

For a second he just breathes, uncaring of the water dripping off of him. The transformation always leaves him shaky for a minute if it happens on dry land, and he hates the feeling of vulnerability.

Vulnerability that's now a thousand times worse, in a death game. A weakness that leaves him helpless to anyone who wants to use it against him.

Anyone who knows.

He pushes himself up and looks over the hill with fear. Skizz's death message must've pinged the chat by now, and the others will be coming back to him; if not for revenge or information, then at the very least for the cow still mooing a few feet away.

They'd see him. They'd see the claws and fangs, the webbing between his fingers, the finned ears and thick gills. They'd see the tail, long and shimmering with blue and green scales and wide white fins. They'd see him.

They'd know.

He has to escape.

The river, mer instinct whispers, water is safe, water is home, but the river leads to a pond a short distance away, and the source of the waterfall is a hole too small to swim through.

He has to change back.

There's only one way to get dry quickly enough, and Scott winces in anticipation. Mers come in threes, after all, and he isn't the one that can blast water into vapor or make it flow off his scales and back into the river. Instead he reaches for it, for that sense of water on him, around him, and bids it to freeze.

Frost crackles as ice spreads, freezing into sheets over his scales. Cold doesn't really bother Scott, not like it used to, before, but it's still painful as shards dig into his skin and icicles form in his hair. He glances at the hill as he shatters the ice and shakes it off. There's no time to get it all off, but while ice may be water it's dry, and with his power keeping it from melting, it stays that way for long enough.

His skin feels papery and chapped and desert dry, fins and scales itching like they're covered in dust. Bubbles burst under his skin, like he's trying to rehydrate himself from the inside out, and his magic surges once more. He's water again, wisping to vapor and falling to liquid and freezing to solid. Scott gasps and shakily stands on two legs, looking around in case anyone saw.

He's alone.

He's safe.

He's not safe, actually, not yet. Not while Impulse and Tango and anyone else nearby is on their way. Not while he's in a death game with a constantly ticking clock.

Not while he still has ice in his hair.

He can make somewhere secure enough to fully dry out, but he needs legs to do it. Keeping the ice from melting while in human form is tiring, but he can handle it.

He has to.

Scott trudges up the hill just as Tango comes screeching down it, Martyn not far behind.

He's cured, he has an extra hour, and no one saw him transformed. Whatever happens from now on, he'll take that as a win.

limited life scott working on h2o mermaid mechanics. hello. can anybody hear me