#didnt work out lmao
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thetimelordbatgirl · 2 months ago
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Also if anyone is curious, this was me the entire time tonight as the texting between parents and aunty went down:
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cuppajj · 1 month ago
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i love this audio and this needs to be them and YAAAAAA
(This is not a ship post)
[YT link]
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bacchuschucklefuck · 3 months ago
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class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhfy#fhsy#fhjy#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#figueroth faeth#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#my class swap stuff! oh yeah I think I got a tag for that I'll call that#fh class quangle#gna slowly go back and get that tag on relevant posts too. for organization's sake#even tho I didnt really intend this blog to be that kinda blog lmao. we were all just gonna be out here dealin with that at our own pace#anyways uh! they! u know all the lore for the designs already I put em in tags. but otherwise this also collects like the#color keys kind of for these. mostly the things that change between designs#doing this did make me realise half of these are a Lot more consistent in color keys than the other half lol#like kristen's palette stays pretty much the same. and fabian's. the hit's mostly in the construction#a lot of this is overall like an exercise in remembering what high schoolers would actually wear and how to work in Costume pieces#on this point at least I straight up have No relevant recollection lmao all the basic education establishments I went to have uniforms#and outside of school I was. well kind of a shorts and tee guy. so#on that topic I feel like fabian's is the furthest stretch lmao. like if a guy in high school wears the same bright yellow raincoat#to school every day that's like. people would Not like that guy. fabian really is saved by being cute and a rogue#he will still have stans when he's deep in his fishing arc in junior year he's the manic pixie dream bf#anyways uh. things to do! stuff to get done. sleep first tho. have a good night lads#I have not caught new nsbu yet! seems I mostly catch them like two to three days late nowadays.#so please uhh. don't reply on my posts with nsbu spoilers? we are all excited and having fun but that's rude#ok thank u. signing off for the day have a good night#!!
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scrimblyteetlez · 5 months ago
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RE-UPLOAD OF THE PEEPAW!! i deleted the other post pls dont perceive it 😭🙏 also extra pieces bc it’s been rotting in my gallery for months
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choccy-milky · 2 months ago
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the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO
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1 like = 1 prayer
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hypogryffin · 2 months ago
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Hey, do you have the next part of idiots in inaba in mind? Just asking because if you post it in the next few months, it will be an annual event, and I think that'd be funny.
(this is part 4 of my anne in inaba au, you can find the previous posts here: [part 1, part 2, part 3])
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shalomniscient · 3 months ago
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as the world caves in. || multiple x reader
AND HERE IT IS / OUR FINAL NIGHT ALIVE / AND AS THE EARTH BURNS TO THE GROUND / OH GIRL IT’S YOU THAT I LIE WITH / AS THE ATOM BOMB LOCKS IN / OH GIRL IT’S YOU / I WATCH TV WITH / AS THE WORLD CAVES IN
cw. major character death
notes. felt silly
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arlecchino
You find her against a broken pillar.
Her once pristine suit is in tatters. You can’t even discern anymore where red fabric ends and blood begins. The black feather-like horn in her hair has cracked, revealing crimson enamel, pulsing in tune with the balemoon above both your heads. Her curse, once up to her elbows, has creeped up to her shoulders, her neck, and just below her jaw. Each breath she takes is labored, pained. One of her wings lies uselessly by her side, while the other is just a stump.
She will die here.
But that’s fine, because you plan on dying right along with her.
Arlecchino’s head snaps up as you hobble over to her. The second coming of the cataclysm hadn’t exactly spared you either; a rifthound’s cursed teeth had sunk deep into your thigh. The wound is likely fatal on its own, though the abyssal corruption spreading through you at an alarming rate only solidifies your death sentence. Still, it doesn’t stop Arlecchino from snapping at you as you approach, brows furrowed, her clawed hands digging into dead soil.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses. You really know the extent of her injuries and exhaustion now—if she was in even slightly better condition, she’d have picked you up and flown you right back somewhere safe. But she isn’t, so you let yourself slide down the pillar next to her with a snort.
“What does it look like?” you huff. “I’m here for you, idiot.”
She gives you a look between incredulity and despair. “You—“
“If you think I’d ever leave you behind, I’m going to smack you.”
Arlecchino quiets at that briefly. You lean your head back against the pillar, a remnant of a building ravaged by the angry surge of the Abyss, and shut your eyes. You can feel Arlecchino’s eyes bore into the side of your face, tracing the line of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, then the shape of your lips, as if to memorize you. When she speaks again, her voice is remarkably soft.
“You’ll die,” she whispers, and you turn your head to her with a smile, meeting her eyes. You take her larger hand in your own—your wedding bands meet with a soft clink of metal.
“I’d follow you to oblivion and back, Peruere.”
Something in her expression shutters, and Peruere leans down to press her forehead against your own. She’s so close, like this. Close enough for you to see the way the veins and arteries in her neck pulse under curse-marked skin to a beat that mirrors your own; close enough for you to feel the way her breath fans over your cheek; close enough for you to kiss her.
And you do, free hand cradling her cheek while the other cups the nape of her neck. Peruere returns the kiss like she’s trying to press her soul against your lips. To give it to you instead of whatever higher power will claim it in the end. Her hand in yours squeezes gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. Her remaining wing rises, a little shakily, and wraps around you, pulling you closer. You smile into the kiss, even as wetness gathers in your lashes.
Peruere wipes them away with her thumb. Draws back just enough to look you in the eyes one last time, selfishly. The earth wails in the distance, cracking and splintering, and the wind howls above your heads. The crimson balemoon shines impassively down as the herald of the apocalypse, cold and unfeeling. But Peruere’s wing around you is warm, and her palm caressing your cheek feels like being at home.
“To oblivion and back,” Peruere whispers, and then the world ends—
—but at least for you and her, it ends in love.
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shalom
Shalom has always known you would meet a solitary end. She had said as much to you, back in the bureau when she had first met you—or rather, when you had first met her, in your fragmented memory. And some part of her was content with the fact. She’s smart, diligent. A HUSH. She could learn you utterly and completely, dive into and discover the depths of your heart before her time runs out.
She does achieve her goal, in the end. But she also falls terribly in love with you, and now the thought of being without you makes her unbroken heart constrict in her chest.
Now here she stands, in this field of lillies she once haunted. This realm of Mania, deceptively beautiful, with a cloudless blue sky stretching on endlessly. She can feel the gaze of the Illusory Moon crawl up her spine, but that is not her concern. No, her concern is you, standing off into the distance, alone—a solitary figure of grey against the blinding white. And somehow, you just know she’s there; like Orpheus for Eurydice, like something bone deep in you compels you to turn around and look.
But Shalom doesn’t disappear like Eurydice. Instead, she steps forward and slots herself into your arms instead with a hum, her hands splaying on your shoulder blades, holding you close. She buries her head in your neck, breathes in your scent—lillies, always lillies—and speaks.
“This is it, then.”
You nod. Card your fingers through her wine-red hair. “This is it.”
“It’s quite peaceful,” she muses, shifting to rest her ear against your chest. Your heartbeat thuds, calm and powerful, and Shalom lets her eyes flutter shut at the rhythm. You manage a small chuckle.
“For now. It’ll get quite ugly soon, at least on the outside,” you murmur. Your lips press a kiss to the top of her head. “You shouldn’t be here.”
She laughs at that. “There are many things I shouldn’t be, and yet, here we are. Mostly because of you, you know.”
“You know what I mean,” you huff, and she smiles. Of course she does. This is your solitary end, the cold calculus of the universe that demands your life in exchange for the world. If she was still HUSH, she’d see it as a bargain. But she’s not HUSH anymore, just Shalom, and suddenly the price is too high, too unacceptable.
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m selfish,” she admits, voice barely above the breeze rustling the flowers by your feet. “I don’t want to be in a world without you.”
Not when you are the one who gives it meaning.
You’re silent for a moment, before a rueful expression pulls at your lips. You shake your head with an affectionate sigh, resting your forehead against hers. You know better than to argue with her. Your hand finds hers, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently. No words are exchanged between you, but no words are necessary. Her hand squeezes back, and then you’re turning, facing the growing light at the end of the horizon. You’re her Orpheus amidst the flowers, leading her forward step by step until the light devours you both. To life, or to death, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t quite care.
For like Eurydice, what else mattered besides the hand in her own, the proof that she was loved?
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kujou sara
Sara once thought she knew pain. Cuts and bruises, arrowheads and sword slashes—none of these are new to her. Her body is a canvas of scars from her time as a warrior, some pale and faded, while others are pink and freshly healed. Pain is inevitable, in a profession such as hers. Sara once thought she knew pain, but nothing could have ever prepared her for the agony of seeing tears paint your soft cheeks as you lie in her arms, staining the burnt soil below you red with your blood.
It feels like someone has reached into her chest, fingers curling around her heart and squeezing tight. Everything else has faded to a dull sensation; the arrows lodged in her wings as she shields you both from the world; the gash in her side from an axe-wielding hilichurl; the throb in her skull from when an Abyss Herald had managed to get a lucky hit in. The war around you both is now an afterthought, even as the skies rage and the Abyss spills forth like a hellish tide. No, the only thing she can focus on is you, as your lips painted red part and whisper to her brokenly.
“Sara,” you choke out, “I love you.”
Sara leans down, pressing her forehead to yours. Her golden eyes meet yours, and she hopes you can see the sincerity within. “I love you too, dearest.”
Your breathing rattles ominously in your chest, and Sara holds you tighter. Closer. A small comfort as death approaches you both on silent feet, ready to collect. Your fingers grip the front of her uniform tightly, staining her white uniform red. “Promise me,” you rasp, and Sara exhales shakily.
“Anything.”
“Find me again,” you plead, your voice so small she would not have heard you, were it not for her tengu senses. “In the next life, promise you’ll find me again—“
She grips your hand tightly. “I promise. I promise, my love, so wait for me.”
She doesn’t even know what awaits either of you beyond this. Is there even such thing as a next life? Heaven? Hell? She doesn’t know, but she doesn’t care. If there is a next life, she will find you, over and over again until the end of time. If heaven doesn’t exist, she’ll build it with her own hands for you. It it does, she’ll meet you there. If hell exists, she’ll carry you out on her back herself. Sara would do anything for you—all you have to do is ask. She kisses you as your breathing slows, your final breath mingling with hers. As death’s shroud settles on her shoulders, she memorises every line on your face, the set of your jaw, the arch of your brows like they’re her north star, to shine forever in her sky and lead her home. Home, wherever you are.
(In another universe, a pair of crows roost on a powerline. In another, a black obi is tied around a beautiful kimono. In another, a museum’s display katana rests peacefully in its delicate sheathe.
In another, she stands hand in hand with you again, looking at them all.)
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asterixer · 9 months ago
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i like how similar but different they are 👁️👄👁️
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isthatacalzone · 25 days ago
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me: *seeing people yell about how they did Glintshore & Percy's death in the show*
also me: ..................anyway
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iammykink · 7 months ago
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Committing acts of aromanticism
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dizzybevvie · 6 months ago
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You're the sunflower/I think your love would be too much
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xx-just-a-demon-xx · 1 month ago
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some mcr patches i impulsively made using cut up bits of painting canvas + pens and alcohol markers
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blasphemousclaw · 3 months ago
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the idea that radahn made a plan with miquella that malenia would kill him so miquella could resurrect his soul or whatever straight up does not make sense to me because if your entire plan hinges on radahn dying then why would you have him and malenia fight a battle where there is in fact a chance where radahn could win and/or not die. and guess what happens
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amelia-yap · 1 year ago
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collab for best girl’s bday today uwu
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choccy-milky · 1 year ago
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OK SO I DON’T KNOW HOW MANY OTHER READERS REALIZED THIS BUT I HAVE TO SHARE IT…
LEIGHTON LAWLEY IS CANONICALLY INFERTILE
so y’all remember how sebastian stepped on and twisted that rat’s dick? and do y’all also remember how lasagna’s from a pure blood family? well, by the year 1930, there were only 28 pure blood wizarding families left (the sacred 28), and the lawley name ain’t one of them! lunchbox never had children. if he had ANY children at all, regardless of gender (at least i think so? but anyways purebloods were basically guaranteed to have at least one male child bc of the family pressure so my theory still stands), the lawley name would have made it onto the sacred 28 list. this also confirms that locomotive died before the year 1930! maybe ratticate did some more whack shit and seb murdered him?🥰🥰🥰
LAWLEY IS INFERTILE ALL THANKS TO SEBASTIAN! what a fucking king 👑 seb did the world a service, forever ridding lamppost’s blood from the gene pool. everyone say thank you sebastian 😊😊😊
thank you all for coming to my ted talk
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THANK YOU THIS IS CANON NOW RIP TO THE LAWLEY BLOODLINE 🪦🪦🪦🥰🙏
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endofbeginings · 7 months ago
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5/24.
inspired by vintage chinese pin up style posters.
watercolor flower set x
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