#i forgot this existed

[gladiator-sun]

-> A grand tournament was being held, demons from all over the Inpherno were filling up the bleachers to watch the gladiators fight. And it seemed like these warriors were going to have some special guests watching!

- @captain-lotl

The amphitheater was filled to the brim with people. Even most of the Deities were watching and betting in today’s matches. There in the balcony seats were those very deities, talking amongst themselves.

King Firebrand took seat in the middle in the biggest chair while Darkheart and Ghostwalker sat at his sides….

[mrsfitzgerald]

odense1 🤭🫣

[messrsrarchives]

i abandoned this wip a while ago and completely stopped writing it but 👉🏻👈🏻 i wanna share some of it bc i think it's pretty decent 👉🏻👈🏻

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Trauma is… complex, at the best of times. Harry knows this. He’s listened to Mind Healer after Mind Healer explain the intricacies of it - about how his trauma is not only woven into the creases of his brain and his daily life, but that his magical core is fraying as well. Slowly, yes, but it’s fraying. Ripping apart at the seams until he’s either wasting away, or no more magical than a muggle.

Harry can’t help but find this painfully ironic.

To be brought into a world that you knew nothing about, to spend your formative teenage years fighting for not only your life - the fight would’ve ended a lot sooner if that were the case - but for everybody. People who know your name and your story but not you. People who would weep if they heard about what happened in the Forbidden Forest, not because they care about him individually, but because for some reason, this 11 year old boy found in a cupboard is their pinnacle of hope.

To be brought to a school you’ve heard nothing about, to sit in an office with a man you trusted with your life, only to find out that he’s the reason you have it at all. That he’s the reason you’re here, standing in vast hallways or sitting in a crowded common room, keeping tabs on everyone that could potentially harm him rather than joining in on teenage antics.

To be brought up as a soldier that didn’t have a choice, to spend nine months carting around finding Horcruxes whilst the rest of the world holds their breath waiting for the finale. Spending months upon months finding pieces of a rotted soul, and not realising that for every part you find, your own is rotting. Pieces of yourself you can never get back and instead of receiving concern or help, you’re applauded.

To win. To win this egregious fight, to outdo every wizard that has tried before and be shown off on stage like some precious antique with indescribable worth, to look out at faces of people who admire you and all you want is for the cupboard door to open once more and wake you up.

All of this, and so much more, and his magical core is fraying? The very thing that brought him here - that led to every loss, every fight, every death - is folding in upon itself?

The Mind Healer called him ‘self-aware’ when he pointed out all the reasons his core is dying.

Yeah, Harry thinks, that’s the problem.

Because whilst Harry might be self-aware, he was never self-preservative.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

He’s overly aware of everything as he leans over to the bedside table to top up his glass with the bottle placed there: aware of the sound of amber liquid falling into crystal glass, aware of the weight of it in his hand and the way his wrist twists to bring it to his lips, aware of the slightly sticky feeling of it over his tongue, and far too aware of the burning down his throat, through to his stomach. A burn that never quite fades really.

The alcohol will stop burning after a couple of seconds, the shame won’t. The guilt won’t. Harry won’t stop burning up from the inside out.

As forms of dying go, burning isn’t high on the list. Actually, Harry would argue that it would be an awful way to go and he has the scars on his calves and the unforgettable scent of burning flesh embedded in his nose to support this.

Is burning the right word to use? He isn’t sure. He’s not sure of much right now, but burning feels wrong. Burning implies speed and ferocity, like one moment an object is fine, the next it’s burning, and the next it’s gone. Harry isn’t burning. He’s doing something slower, potentially more excruciating - he’s singeing - lighting superficially, slowly, quietly. The kind of flame that could be put out before it reaches its peak if someone cared to notice.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Guilt, as he opens up the door to Teddy’s nursery and walks over to the crying form in the crib. Guilt, as he picks him up and cradles him as best he can, bouncing him slightly up and down and knowing that his arms weren’t built for this, that these arms aren’t the ones Teddy needs. He needs his parents. He needs capable, loving, consistent parents. Andromeda is a fine substitute, a mighty one even, but it takes a village and Harry's barely a resident of his.

“Shh, shhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry continues to mumble to Teddy as he paces slowly around the room, rubbing a hand up and down his back to try to quench the sobs. He doesn’t know exactly how long it takes, but eventually Teddy quiets down and is grasping at Harry’s hair.

“Do you wanna give that back? No? Okay.” Harry watches through slightly foggy eyes as Teddy’s short mass of light brown hair turns black and disorganised on his head, falling slightly into his eyes without Harry’s signature glasses there to prevent it.

Harry pushes the hair out of Teddy’s now smiling face, his eyes catching on the right side of his forehead. The clear, unmarked, right side of his forehead - just above his brow, edging towards his hairline.

Green eyes staring back at him, a mess of black hair held back by his fingers, a nose slowly shifting shape - the technicalities of bone structure still too complex for a 1-year-old to accomplish.

It feels like looking into a mirror. Not your usual one, not a perfect reflection. Not one quite like the Mirror of Erised either, but somewhere in between - somewhere between desire and reality, where Harry is gazing at a copy of him that isn’t hindered by the jagged stretch of skin and all it contains. A copy of him, born at the end of a war, orphaned, too young to understand why Mummy and Daddy aren’t coming back.

Too young to understand why Harry is crying right now.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[quillpokebiology]

orange applin called mandarin?

(this is very much related to a post i made about an applin in an orange)

Pokemon Variants: Mandarinn

Mandarin (also called Orange or Oranginn) is the name for an Applin that inhabits an orange instead of an apple. Despite its name, they don't always inhabit mandarin oranges.

Applin

An Applin that inhabited and orange. They're found mostly in Paldea in parts of the region where oranges are grown, as well as a region South of Unova, where they're the most common.

Appletun

If a mandarin Applin inhabited a sweet tasting orange was given the special sweet orange item, it will evolve into an orange appletun. This breed of Appletun was bred to taste like orange pie with a mix of candy oranges. Many beach towns in Paldea have them (as well as pineapple appletun), and they're commonly used for festivals. The sweet oranges on their back are safe to eat, and grow back within a day, however, pulling off the two (2) oranges on the top can hurt them.

Flapple

If an orange applin eats a sour orange, or is given the sour orange item, it will evolve into an orange flapple. Orange Flapple use the orange peel to fly. Instead of their body resting on the orange, their lower body has fused with the orange instead. This can make flying for them a bit more difficult because of the added weight, so they're more known for gliding from branch to branch.

Dipplin

My favorite one for this variant. Orange Dipplin evolve by eating a sticky orange, or their given a syrup apple. They secrete pulpy orange juice from the top of their bodies, which attracts a lot of bug types they can eat but also attracts the unwanted attention of flying types.

//my designs can be used by anyone if you credit me!

[discos-abandoned-blog]

-> A fairly small woman was simply looking around, her head and face shadowed by her massive hat and shimmery veil. Her braids seemed to twitch as if they were alive.... - @windswept-ocs [BAMBOO FLUTE]

A man sat on the dock. His long and fluffy dog-like tail laid flat against the wood. He was dressed like someone from Thieves Den. His back faced the woman as he was tracing shapes in the water. His tail twitched when he heard her boots clink against the dock.

“May we help you?”

[fcb-mv33]

[chaos-quote-anon]

TRICK OR TREAT FUCKO

MOSSINGTON HI POOKIE

YOU GET WRITING I FORGOT EXISTED BUT WANTED TO WRITE BECAUSE UH

MAGNUS AND DYING

[fire-hashira]

Uta!mc replaced au masterlist

part one: where the wind blows: https://www.tumblr.com/fire-hashira/736481600723894272/where-the-wind-blows-part-one?source=share

part two: tot musica: https://www.tumblr.com/fire-hashira/746101374084907008/where-the-wind-blow-tot-musica?source=share

[ryzenshines]

Okay well hey I'm back. Okay well bye I'm gone again.

[oshisanbignaturals]

found this comic i made on christmas last year ???

[9823678]

#キバナと撮ろう

[pyxy-styx]

YOU. INFODUMP ABOUT YOUR OCS. NOW

(Jk only if you want to)

WELL,

This is Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, Dipper and Mabel, (I've run out of twin characters

Charlie (they/them) and Alex (she/her/any).

They also have an older brother, Jackson, but I'm still figuring him out, so he's being left out for now. All you need to know for now is that they're eighteen and use he/they pronouns.

Charlie and Alex are twins, about sixteen years old in the main storyline I write in. Charlie is the older twin, the middle child, and Alex is the younger twin, the baby sister.

The universe they exist in changes depending on my mood and what I wanna work with. Sometimes there's magic, sometimes it's superpowers, sometimes they're just chilling, sometimes is post-apocalyptic, sometimes it's fantasy, it really just depends on what I'm feeling that day.

They were originally Potter OCs, but I just kinda took them out of that universe and started throwing them into whatever I wanted to write at the moment.

The general vibe (aka when I'm writing Alex as a werewolf) is that their mom, Gwendolyn, died when they were little. Their dad, Sam, didn't want to accidentally fuck his kids up by trying to raise them while mourning his wife/best friend, so they were sent to live with their Grandma, Sam's mother-in-law, Pamela.

Other than that, the universe is a fucking wreck and I have no idea what the fuck is happening. The post-apocalyptic version of the universe doesn't even include the adults. Alex can drive a motorcycle for some reason.

Oh, and there's Eve, Alex's girlfriend. No clue how she plays into this, but she's there

Their universe is fully built on vibes and whatever I think sounds cool at the moment lmao

[unseasoned-soop]

Dukes of broxtonia fanart

cuz they’re awesome

[almaprincess66]

Can I do a confession? Is it will be a confession if I talked about this but forgot? I literally can't remember.

So I was looking trough the notes on my phone and I found this fic snippet for Amrev that I wrote in like the middle of the night.

It's Hamilton x Lafayette and it's really funny but like I feel wierd that I wrote it. Again I have no memory of me writing it which is funny because Hamilton literally falls out of a second story window.

So like should I finish and post it?

[karrotkings564]

[lookimjustawallflower]

I feel that the world needs to bear witness to this.