#can you tell im mentally ill

[sex-tech]

This is gonna probably be a really long post about my thoughts for Act 3 with what has been set up already because I need to shout into the void about this shit LMAO get ready for a WALL of text

Also a fair warning, I'm gonna be talking about so much jayvik/vikjayce in this you don't understand THE HELL I AM GOING THROUGH THERE IS GONNA BE SO MUCH COPIUM IN THIS

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR SEASON 2 !!!

Quick mini-review: I feel like a contrarian when I say that I actually preferred Act 2 to Act 1. There were a lot of things set up and a lot of payoffs. I do have issues with the pacing overall; season 1 had much better structure and with the introduction of so much LOL lore in season 2, there are bound to be issues. There were 6 years of production for season 1 vs. 3 years of production for season 2, and it has clearly had an effect on the writing. Some scenes are too quick, some scenes are too slow, some cuts are too abrupt - I feel this is painfully obvious sometimes and talking with my friends about it we all agree that the pacing has suffered immensely.

But other than that, Act 2 has been really playing with my emotions and there are so many moments where I just kept breaking down over the scenes with Jinx, Vi, Vander and Isha. The watercolour-style flashbacks were so incredibly well done and those scenes had a lot of love put into them - props to Studio Fortiche!

I believe there is definitely a time paradox happening of some kind, one where Jayce, Ekko and Heimerdinger are lost in some kind of timeline.

This reflection in this artwork feels like it's hinting at what we will see in Act 3, maybe a different timeline, or the future, and Jayce will end up seeing the outcome of the Arcane. I feel that with how the lore is being changed, they need to give him some purpose or reason to pursue Viktor, to officially make them enemies. Whatever Jayce will see or experience will lead to that - a difference in perspectives and ideals.

Also, this shot, where Jayce returns and we see him glitching in and out, I feel that's a really clear depiction of a paradox, of different timelines converging or something similar. I can just imagine him living through all these different events, surviving something so awful, and now it's destroying him from the inside. He's so traumatized and I will defend him with my whole being.

I'm also a bit worried now about Ekko and Heimerdinger. I'm convinced that the latter won't survive however I'm not so sure about Ekko. I feel that everything being a time paradox would lead really well into him finally receiving his time powers, but as of now I think he is really under-utilized in the series as a whole, more so in season 2, and I'm really hopeful that we will get more screen time with him in Act 3.

Singed's role in this season is huge and it will definitely become even more important in Act 3. The introduction of Orianna, which I thought was so great, as well as the name-drop of "Dr. Reveck" has really set up his motivations. Warwick being his experiment for bringing back his daughter I believe will lead to him experimenting with Viktor.

Warwick's design was confusing to me at first. He felt too human but I think that was intentional - Singed wanted to create him with some humanity, a test, hence he is still more like Vander, still able to feel his love for Jinx and Vi. I believe he will survive, and Singed will get rid of his humanity completely, potentially leading to a more LOL accurate look.

This also brings me to Viktor and his OG lore. I really liked his concept in the game and I will admit, seeing them change it in Arcane worried me. While I really love the design, I was hopeful that we would see Viktor entering his glorious evolution era. But now with his interactions with Singed, with Singed's personal motivation for revival, I believe that there is still hope. Seeing how Orianna is preserved, still human-like, I believe that Singed's discoveries will lead him to recreating Viktor with metal, something closer to what we see in the game, maybe a cursed combination of both Arcane and machine, and I believe he will see it as a breakthrough in bringing Orianna back.

The way he describes it, the way he says, "You must survive, Viktor," a parallel to him saying "the specimen must survive" feels so intentional. He sees the potential in reanimation with how Viktor returned, healed, and this won't be the end of him, not yet, he must survive.

This scene where Viktor asks Singed, "Do you believe in fate?" I believe also points to another thing. Viktor knew very early on what his fate would be. He was accepting of it, he was confused as to why he was alive, and I believe in the scene where Jayce kills him, that look in his eyes was of acceptance. He did not look afraid, he looked at peace - with the idea of different timelines, with Viktor becoming closer to the celestial, he might've already known what would happen, which is why he invites Jayce to meet him. That with him saying, "I've been expecting you, doctor," is another reason I think that Viktor is aware of everything.

With Singed's final words to Viktor, the disdain in Viktor's eyes, the way Sky is looking at Viktor directly, frantic, worried, an expression of dread at the thought of the Arcane dying out completely, of all the progress coming to an end. I still believe the core is manipulating Viktor, that Sky is the personification of it, and that the core is aware of its own evolution reaching its final state, death - like a virus without a host.

And then there was this, the heavy breathing, the gritted teeth, squint in his eyes, the way he drops down - it felt like heartbreak, like guilt. He just murdererd a man, a man that spoke to him as Viktor.

Just this look. He's tired. He's returned from hell and he can see the beginning of the end, he can see Viktor's descent into madness, recognizes it immediately, and he's disappointed. Maybe he'd hoped to see something else.

Also, with Jayce saying, "I thought you were done with Hextech, and me," could imply that this new version of Viktor, remade by Singed, would no longer have a connection the Arcane - he is reforged, he has realized the weakness of flesh and compassion, "it's inescapable," and he will be remade with steel and rage, once again against his will, just like Warwick was. And perhaps, in this dark future, when Jayce finally sees what Viktor becomes, sees Viktor reject him entirely, that he is done with him, is also what makes Jayce spiral.

And now that he has returned, seeing Viktor welcome him with open arms, inviting him to spend time together, to show him what he has uncovered - what must he have seen? What must Viktor have said to him to make him feel so denied and unwanted?

Someone he once loved, someone that broke him, showing him the same gentleness and care he had once before.

"I won't fail. I swear it."

This entire sequence was insane. The different emotions in Jayce's face, the way he's cycling through pain and fear and conviction. The initial shock in his eyes, seeing what his Viktor has become, seeing him in this state, before the corruption - he looks vulnerable, he doesn't fight back, doesn't resist. He has made his promise to Viktor before, and I believe this is another promise to him, a promise to rend his mistake and do right by him. And Jayce looks frightened by his actions, frightened by the sight before him - Viktor looks so exhausted, so sick - I can imagine it reminds Jayce of him before he combined with the Hexcore.

Jayce's entire arc this season is about him gaining more agency, more control of himself despite the way he has been spiraling, whilst for Viktor it's the opposite, he has lost himself to a greater purpose, a perfect mirror to how they were in season 1.

The way their designs mirror them both too, Jayce getting the leg brace, his eyes changing, him being afflicted with the Arcane, Viktor keeping the blanket, keeping a cog that reminds him of the discoveries they made together, one side of it being perfectly clear, the other corrupted, a representation of them - two sides of the same coin.

I believe Viktor's monologue at the end, the scenes with him and Sky in a magical world where he is emoting, showing compassion for those that suffer, his realization that emotion is inescapable, shows that he still feels, even if it is all subdued. His reaction to Jayce killing Salo hurt, he looked pained and yet, as though he expected it - "that isn't Jayce" - it's not his Jayce, not the Jayce that he remembers, the one that he stayed with over shared affections, this is a Jayce ruined by him, and he is yet to see just how much they have and will hurt each other.

Maybe the exquisite chaos he is talking about is his corruption from the future, constantly self-replicating and self-annihilating, something that he has never observed before because it is yet to happen to him. He knows his fate, but not anything beyond that.

A couple final notes:

All the butterfly imagery - Jayce's hammer, the explosion in the mesh(?), the "Talis" butterfly - a symbol of death, rebirth, transformation

The parallels between Jayce and Singed, wanting to keep Viktor alive, creating a monster, and now Jayce having to destroy that which he created, a consequence of him breaking his promise

Viktor appearing as though he is connected to both the void and something celestial, godly, a balance

TLDR; jayvik divorce era will be the death of me, they were made for each other and will be the death of each other

[likeprongstostars]

what is your favourite hannibal murder scene? (this is equivalent to the mbti test to me)

anon you are asking me the impossib- PRIMAVERA

this might a bit basic answer but HANNIBALS BROKEN HEART ON DISPLAY FOR WILL right after "i let you know me, see me. I gave you a rare gift but you didn't want it" got me bouncing of the walls. And the heart unfolding itself into a stag (the literal symbol of the blurry boundaries between good and evil in this show) and going straight to Will taunting the beast urging his transformation, rebirth...

ALSO the tarot card reference for reversed three of swords. The three of swords would usually mean rejection or betrayal while the reversed version of the card stands for accepting the past and forgiveness. HANNIBAL SHOWED HIM HIS BLEEDING HEART AND FORGAVE HIM RIGHT AFTER BECAUSE HE KNEW WILL WILL GO AFTER FOR HIM... WHAT A SIMP

[susellesie]

what gets me is that noelle is used to being needed for something. there's the obvious- berdly uses her for academic success. the mayor likely needs noelle for her image as successful- expecting lots and giving little. even Rudolph, bless his heart, allows noelle's mother to continue this negligence.

they're all, in their own way, asking something of her. and the only people who didn't stopped talking to her, moved away, or went missing.

and so she just.. kind of forgets she can be a person, in that sense. routine is easy to fall into, and she falls.

even people who aren't asking anything of her have this idea of her. even susie.

in the dark world, her first interaction is with queen who wants something from her.

and if you play peacefully, normally, then noelle unlearns this. through you and susie and even ralsei, she learns there's no idea of a person she has to be to matter. you accept her unconditionally and she is accepted and that is everything. you teach noelle she is not just the culmination of everything she has given.

and then there's snowgrave.

and noelle has not only been taught she is a vessel, a continuation of someone else's demands, but that she can do this to others. she learns to give everything but gains everything in the process. it's falling into the void and becoming it.

noelle gives to others, and takes from the rest. that is how she survives throughout the snowgrave route. and the second she's back at the town, the denial kicks in, and all she's left with is the emptiness and nobody to take from.

[fruk-choosing-a-username]

me every time i boot up a game: okay im not going to try and recreate and play as other characters and put way too much effort into a weird crossover au

also me: *is responsible for an invader zim x fallout new vegas au*

[omegadazai]

These next to my patient portal is absolutely diabolical

[alexthesillybilly]

My current daily routine is just

Wake up

The horrors

Springtrap :3

The horrors AND springtrap :3

Sleep

[mars-the-witch]

When you try to write a short Steve centric Steddie fic about your OCD and accidentally trigger yourself working out one of the details and basically have a panic/anxiety attack but midway through not being able to breathe right, you write down the details abt said panic/anxiety attack in your notes app bcs you can never fucking remember them after the fact and you wanna get that good content as fresh as possible so your fic can be authentic af:

[owtenen]

Predictable Actions

Cleo and Scar gives Bdubs a chance to prove his loyalties. He does exactly what they both expected.

OR

The Ethubs final episode we needed.

TW: major major major depictions of injury/violence like wow i was very very graphic for literally no reason other than angst so…. yeah

———— word count: a lot…. i’m so sorry

“Mom!” Scar’s voice boomed through the rock, Bdubs jumped, he was focusing hard on the straps on his boots, Cleo wasn’t as startled.

“What is it Scar?”

“Come out here!” Cleo and Bdubs turned to look at each other, Scars voice was hungry and deep, and they both knew that meant blood was about to be spilled.

Bdubs hadn’t stepped out of the base in hours, and he found it hard to believe the moon was already high above their heads. He watched as the stars and the moon pulsed with light, and how the bridges in the sky left dark shadows in front of them. He wished he could sleep, the moon was too big here, too visible, it made his bones hurt and his hands shake.

“Don’t do it, Scar!” Skizz’s voice next to him made him come back into the present, and he sucked in a horrified breath when he realized what was happening before him.

Scar was in the center of a small ring of people. Tango had his bow drawn, and Impulse and Skizz both had their swords out. Cleo straightened beside him, and he could see shadows of the Bad Boys next to them.

“What’s all this?” Pearl’s voice came from behind Scar, and when he turned, Scott, Martyn, and BigB were there too.

Scar turned around to face his teammates then, and when he did, he dragged a half conscious body around with him.

“Etho-“ Bdubs said softly, immediately taking a step forward. He was stopped by Cleo, who put out a strong arm in front of him to stop him from going any further.

“Stay here, Bdubs.” He pressed his lips into a line and stepped back into his original place.

Etho looked horrible. His headband was missing and hair was full of dirt, and as Bdubs studied his head, he saw a large gash on the side of it next to his ear. It was bleeding bad, and if he didn’t get it checked out soon, Bdubs knew it would kill him.

Scar was holding Etho by his vest, and his shirt was ripped enough for everyone to see a large slash across his chest. Whatever Scar had done to Etho, it obviously wasn’t good.

“Scar! What did you do?” Bdubs tried his best to keep his voice normal, but he wanted to throw up at the sight of this. He needed to help Etho.

Scars smile was deadly, and he pushed his victim off of his knees and onto the ground. Etho tried to stop his fall his his arms, but they gave out leaving Etho fully lying on the hard rock, staining it with his blood.

“This is cruel, Scar. Even for you.” Tango pulled his bow back even more, and Bdubs knew he was about five seconds away from firing.

“Calm down! I’m not gonna do anything!” Scar held up his hands, and cocked his head towards Cleo again, “She told me to bring him here.”

Bdubs turned to Cleo, whose eyes were just as dark as Scars. He felt a gut wrenching feeling in his stomach, and stepped just a fraction of a step away from her, “What are you doing?”

Cleo turned to Bdubs, and held out her sword, “Letting you prove your loyalty.” She stepped away from Bdubs and towards Scar in the middle of the circle, the rest of TIES tensed up even more, and Tango moved so his arrow was pointed at Cleo. “Come here Bdubs.”

He didn’t, in fact, come here. He stayed right where he was, “No. What are you doing?”

Cleo gave him a death glare, and Bdubs all but turned into a puddle, slowly making his way over to his team.

As Bdubs walked closer, he pointedly did not look at Etho, but when he got to them, he couldn’t help noticing how his old friend slowly tried to get back up to his knees.

“Bdubs…” His voice was painful and barely a whisper, and as Scar pushed his head down, Bdubs had to close his eyes for a minute to compose himself.

When he opened them again, Cleo and Scar where a couple steps away and staring at him, “Kill him.”

Bdubs stood silent for more than a couple seconds, not processing what Cleo had just said. “What?”

“Kill him. Kill Etho.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

Cleo raised an eyebrow, “No. He’s our enemy. He killed your teammate just a few hours ago.” She pointed at Scar’s neck, which still had deep red marks where the fishing rod wrapped around it. Bdubs flinched, “So. Kill him.”

“Why me! Why don’t you do it?” Bdubs voice cracked, and Scar laughed at him. It sent bile up his throat, but he swallowed it down.

“Because we need to trust you.” Scar said, his voice on the verge of laughter.

“Kill him. For Scar and I.”

He looked around at the others in the circle. Tango and Impulse were staring at him with hate in their eyes, and Skizz looked absolutely terrified. He turned his attention to his Neighbors and the Mean Gills, who were looking on with suspicion and interest. He didn’t turn fully around to see the Bad Boys, but he could hear Jimmy and Joel muttered to each other.

He still didn’t look at Etho, instead, looking back at Scar and Cleo. “No. I can’t- He’s… he’s our ally! He made a mistake, Scar.”

They were having none of it, Cleo took a step closer to Bdubs, and snarled, “Kill him, or I’ll do it and you’ll be next.” She grabbed her axe and held it against Bdubs’ chest, “Your choice, son.”

His heart rate was beating a million miles an hour, but he had the strength in his body to nod once at Cleo, who in turn stepped back to give him some more space.

He finally looked down at Etho, who in the moments before managed to get up onto his knees again. They locked eyes, and Bdubs knew how scared Etho was in that moment. His good eye was blown wide with adrenaline and fear, and Bdubs suspected his redstone one was too damaged to see out of. “Do it.” Etho’s voice was just as small and horse as before, and it broke him even more. “It’s just an hour.”

Bdubs stepped back, his mind was in a million places at once, Cleo’s axe at his back and Etho’s face staring at him was too much. He took a breath, and slowly raised his sword to Etho’s neck.

Tango shot an arrow and it wizzed past his head, “Watch it, Bdubs. The next one will hit your face.”

“Bdubs, common man.” Skizz’s plea made his legs shake, and he almost had half a mind to drop the sword completely.

Then Cleo pushed her axe into his back slightly, and he tensed up again.

Etho closed his eyes and tilted his head, and Bdubs took another breath and pressed into his neck more. This game was supposed to just be 24 hours. So much better than the last times where they would be away from home for months. He didn’t want to come back, but Etho told him that there wasn’t anything important that could happen in that amount of time. He promised that they would be back in bed, whispering sweet nothings to each other before they both knew it, and that’s why Bdubs had agreed to this deal in the first place.

Now he was standing above his love with a sword to their throat and an axe to his back. Killing Etho was never an option in Bdubs’ mind. Even if they pretended to hate each other for the sake of the game, even if they stole and taunted and lied to each other, killing Etho had never been his plan, and here he was about to cut his throat in front of everyone. How did it all go so wrong in 24 hours?

Etho nodded, as if hearing all of Bdubs’ inner monologue, and Bdubs took yet another deep breath.

He raised his sword up over his head, and he saw Etho tense his entire body. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Impulse move in, and Skizz draw his sword.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and swung the sword.

He swung high, missing Etho’s head and turning around fully to the body behind him. Without warning, he dove his sword into Cleo’s chest, and flinched hard when he heard her axe clatter on the rocks below them.

“Wh-“ Cleo’s eyes were wide, and she grabbed on to Bdubs’ hands in front of them. Everyone was quite, and Cleo slowly turned her eyes up towards Bdubs’ own.

“I’m sorry.” Bdubs whispered, and before Cleo had a chance to respond, he pulled the sword out with a horrifying squelch. Before her body could fall to the ground, she disappeared without a trace, going into the afterlife to respawn.

He turned around fast, only getting a second to register everyone’s shocked and confused faces before Scar lunged at him, his sword slicing his arm deep. He yelped, but quickly got his bearings and blocked the next blow with his own sword.

“Scar- Scar common.”

“You killed mom!” Scar’s anger was terrifying, and yet Bdubs knew it made him sloppy. As Scar stepped back to go for another blow, Bdubs lunged forward and slashed him in the gut, making him disappear almost instantly.

It was quite again, and he took the time to drop his sword and help Etho up from where he was kneeling on the ground. He took Bdubs’ hand instantly, leaning all his weight on him like a ragdoll.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“We need to get you back to your base.”

“Bdubs-“

“Bdubs!” Cleo’s voice rang out over the rocks, and Bdubs’ heart rate went from fast to faster.

“Common.” He turned to Tango, whose bow was now half loaded and pointed at the ground, “A little help? Maybe?”

That seemed to snap all of the TIES back to attention, and they all made their way to over to Etho to help him back on his feet, “We have supplies in the tower, let’s go.”

As they started walking away, Bdubs felt an arrow pierce his shoulder. Hissing in pain, he turned around and looked over to where Cleo and Scar were standing.

Scar had his bow out, and Cleo had her axe and sword, “You’ve chosen your side, Bdubs.”

He felt Etho’s hands on his upper back, and a pinch of pain as he pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. The warm feeling of blood running down his back was grounding, and he felt the wind on his face again. “I’m sorry.”

Cleo just smirked, but it was angry, “No you’re not.” She spat, “And you’re going to regret this.”

As he stared up at his now former alliance, he felt Etho’s hands around his arm again, “Common, Bdubs. Let’s go.”

After one more moment, Bdubs just to look back at Etho and his teammates. They might not want him here, but Etho did and that’s what matters.

“Let’s just get Etho back to the tower.”

Etho leaned on Bdubs the entire walk back, and Bdubs held onto him tight for the rest of the night.

————

Oops my hand slipped.

I was literally going to make this so much longer but then i saw how long the “box” was and i was like bitch ain’t nobody gonna read any more than that so i stopped 😭 maybe i’ll write a part 2 but that would mean committing and finishing a fic and…. yeah that’s never gonna happen

[yolowritter]

Plagg's past holder is...Not Great™

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to another post! This here is a little something I cooked up for Plagg in "A Case of Ladybug Luck". To give some context, I very much consider the Kwami to be Gods, and treat them like it. So when the story moved towards exploring them further, I decided to write a piece of Plagg with a past holder. Yes, Sullivan's name is a Dark Souls 3 reference. I'm a nerd, sue me. Actually don't, I can barely pay for my readers' therapy. Anyway, this can be read as a standalone, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to post! Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Emotional manipulation, extreme apathy, plague and disease, and mass-genocide. Abusing Cataclysm is very dangerous to others.

A man sits on an old throne, inside a forgotten, crumbling keep. The roof has long caved in on one side of the chamber, letting the rain and thunder slip through the many cracks. The halls of this castle are silent, without so much as the squeak of a mouse to interrupt the heavy breathing echoing in the wind. His face is covered by a cracked helmet, one adorned with the faceplate of a panther’s skull. And the rest of the body rests inside an ever-rusting suit of black plated armor, decorated at the knees and shoulders by silver claws. Those very arms extend to wrap around the body, as if in a tired, pointless gesture of protection. Pontiff Sullivan sits upon his dusty throne on an eerily quiet night, with only the occasional strike of thunder to shatter the silence.

Beyond what tired eyes can see lies the rest of the keep, a forgotten Lord’s castle than once stood tall and proud. Moss and tangled vines have begun growing on the exterior walls, most of the windows blown to pieces by howling winds, and not a single soul’s footprint to be found. Rather, all Plagg can see with his endless eyes are the harsh claw marks on the ground, another result of his master’s choice of adornment. On the bottom side of Sullivan’s boots lay the jagged claws of a fierce black panther, a terrifying beast whose presence haunts every speck of air the God of Destruction can perceive. By his rough estimate, Plagg guesses it must have been at least two decades since even a stay cat set foot inside this old keep, at the top of a small hill overlooking a small town. Even the massive greatsword laying against the throne’s arm has been gathering dust, slowly eroding with the passage of time.

His master does nothing but sit on this very spot, has not moved in what the Kwami thinks may be weeks or even longer. All ‘round the ancient castle lay dark scorch marks of pure Destruction, one of which is visible through a half-crumbled wall just a few halls away. The howling winds continue to tear the keep apart one stone brick at a time, and Plagg is left only with memories. He recalls the battlefield, those very fields just outside the main gate. Said former testament to human engineering now lies ajar, with worms slowly eating at the wood it’s mad of. But once, many years ago, it had been the sight of war. Sullivan, then a young and determined knight, had finally gathered whichever friends could be mustered to retake his ancestral home from the boy’s uncle. Plagg cannot remember for the life of him if they were actually ever related by blood. Yet…the Kwami cannot find reason for the detail to matter. No, instead his jumps to Sullivan’s bravery and courage, to the sheer presence of shining gold that almost three hundred men had rallied behind. A kind smile and encouraging words had appealed to morals and knightly conviction once, the same features now lay hidden behind a faceless mask.

That boy…is gone now. Plagg knows as much, but is still tethered to this shell of a man, a shattered reflection of valiance twisted into nothing more than self-righteous foolishness. That was why, in the pride of his old age, Sullivan had sent his servants and knights all away to far-off lands, back when a single sliver of goodness still nested in his heart. The breastplate’s tattered cape billows in the wind as the Pontiff finally stands, armor crafted by the magic of Plagg’s Miraculous creaking with every movement. The Kwami feels himself strain as much as the metal plates, having held Sullivan’s pitiful existence together for so long that he, a literal God, has begun to long for the separation that so defined his kin before first contact with humanity. Truly, even being formless once again would be preferable to this horrible stagnation that permeated the very concept of Destruction.

With great effort, a single step is taken, and then another…and another…and another, until eventually the aging Pontiff’s legs have carried them both across the deserted halls and up a staircase that’s barely stable enough to hold a single man’s weight. It’s then, overlooking the surrounding lands from high above, that Plagg finally sees it. His Destruction, the echoes left behind by that great Cataclysm which brought Sullivan and his comrades victory, a gain in which the Kwami had once gladly shared. It’s been so long since he’s observed the full scope of that battle, if only because no mortal should be able to do the same. And yet, the Pontiff takes deep, ragged breaths as he gazes to the black flickers lining the grass, almost as if marking the ground with timeless scorches. Plagg feels it too, the subtle way in which they tremble in warning. He’s already known of course what any deviation from the throne-watching entails, but now it’s fully confirmed.

In the town below, a single traveler rests at a tavern, coughing lightly as if to clear his throat. Not a soul suspects, fewer have even heard the rumors, but what is death if not the slow, methodical destruction of physical matter? What is impending doom, if not something Plagg can feel? The stormy night goes on, and a blinding flash of thunder splits the skies as Sullivan begins to raise his arms. Trembling old bones and half-shattered armor both creak in protest, much more resistance than the God of Destruction can bother mustering. Still, the Pontiff manages to raise his clawed gauntlets up to an opening in the crumbling watchtower’s stones, and murmurs the word under his breath.

Cataclysm. A notion that Plagg had once been proud to personify, when that very same power had turned a legion of bloodthirsty, half-mad men to dust right before Sullivan’s eyes. The Kwami had used it then in desperation, this flicker of divine power. To save his Holder, a brave man he’d grown far too attached to for anyone’s good. With golden hair to match the aura surrounding the young knight, and green eyes glimmering with brilliant rays of hope as banners were raised in victory…Plagg had failed to see the darkness skulking underneath. That same evil was now made manifest in wisping black smoke ‘round the old Pontiff’s clawed arms, with a pained grunt as viscous veins of inky puss flickered to life all across his body.

The once rosy tint of the boy’s cheeks had long been stolen, replaced with a pale, ghastly complexion fit only for the horror stories told about the many creatures which had great aversion from the sun. Plagg hadn’t bothered to learn what the folktales were calling them this century. The black energy crackled all through Sullivan’s body, sapping both his and the Kwami’s lifespans to bring forth the very power that even a God like him had grown to fear. Of course, Plagg had heard the justification countless times, so many that he had truly began to lose count faster than Sullivan lost his mind. Yet it mattered little, when the dark mist of Cataclysm spread throughout the air, carried by howling winds all the way to its unsuspecting victims.

A raspy cough nearly tears through the Pontiff’s lungs, and he desperately clutches a crumbling wall to stay upright. “It’s a mercy, Plagg. They are all sick, and I am the cure…” he speaks the words with a conviction the Kwami once admired, and falls silent once more. In the town below, the Plague has begun to spread, from the traveler to the innkeeper, and then to another. The swirling dark mists flood the air around the slumbering villagers, and Plagg feels each and every bright soul disintegrate into absolutely nothing, leaving naught but tiny specks of ash.

[yellowistheraddest]

insatiable desire to quit art yet simultaneously being completely emotionally and spiritually dependant on drawing,, yeah

[melodicdownpour]

I’ve decided I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m going to be as cringe as I want on this app and it’s everyone else’s problem.

[jattendschaton]

Ladybug and Chat Noir hosting a podcast where they're going to interview Adrien Agreste and so Adrien has to enlist Félix to pretend to be him and Félix gets to just. Make fun of Adrien to his face and to a national audience. Chat Noir keeps arguing with Félix’s Adrien about his own opinions so the next day all the news is about how much everyone thinks Chat Noir hates Adrien Agreste

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[wronganachronism]

Finishing up this year 👀

[human-too]

looking at my december receiptify and seeing that a change of heart is my number one song of the month and the rest of the top 10 is still the 1975. i have peaked in life. this is it. i am at my prime. also the 1975 is now my #3 artist all time and that’s an even bigger achievement in my books