#if we couldnt tell

[cemetrrrry]

arven watches the sky fall

- click for better quality -

[brown-spider]

Making jokes about Noir being colorblind/not understanding colors is how we cope with how unbelievably powerful his brain is

[blueskittlesart]

same old story...

[boopjuice]

Humans are Space Orcs: Melons.

Okay, hear me out. Humans are omnivores, and this is widely known throughout the greater Galactic Alliance. They have insane tolerance to things most would consider poison, and can eat just about anything deemed nonlethal by most other races (there are, of course, some exceptions).

Anyway, there's no need to wait for an animal to be ready to eat. Sure, a deer that's too young or too old won't have as much nutrition, but there's nothing stopping you from eating it. Fruits and vegetables have to grow and ripen before humans can eat them, and are often determined ripe based on color and size.

Now imagine, if you will, an alien crew visiting their human's home in Earth during the summer. Some of them are drastically overheated and have to stay in the ship, while the more heat tolerant species are out and about with the human at a grocery store.

"Human- I mean, Sarah, your parent mentioned requiring a 'watered melon's for the third meal, yes?"

"Watermelon, Chi'l'zak, but yeah, Dad did ask me to pick some up. Why?"

"Well, there appear to be some over there to choose from."

"Oh, nice spot! Let's see here..."

And the alien's watch in as their human picks up the biggest melon in the pile and observes it for a moment, presumably checking the color, only to smack the large fruit, frown, and set it back down.

"Hu- Sarah, why did you put down the fruit?"

"It's just not quite ready yet." The human picks up another melon, smacks this one a few times, and sets it down.

"But I thought these 'grocery stores' only sold ripe foods?"

"Well, everything here is technically ripe, but that doesn't always mean it's ready. I mean, the avocados they sell are ripe, but they aren't usually ready to eat. They don't taste as good, or they're too hard. You just have to know how to pick your produce. Ah, here we go!" A few smacks to a new melon, and Sarah looks pleased. The melon doesn't appear any different from the others.

"How are you certain that one is the best? It is colored the same as the other fruits, and is smaller than some. Surely this fruit isn't ready, as you said."

"Of course it is, Chi'l'zak. Here, listen."

Sarah smacks the watermelon they'd picked out a couple times, then smacked the first melon they'd picked up. "See? They sound different. That's how you know this one's good."

"But Human Sarah, those sounded exactly the same."

"No they didn't."

"Well, how were they different then?"

"I dunno. They just don't sound the same."

They ended up bringing home the ready and unready melons to display the difference. Anthropological notes were updated that night in the ship's log.

"Ripeness of human fruits: Some fruits on the human Mother Planet can be identified as 'ready to eat' by sound. The preferred method seems to be to smack the fruit known as 'melon' with an open appendage and listen. While most of the team were able to notice any significance between a ready and unready melons, human participants were able to easily distinguish ready from unready melons and select accordingly."

[xxplastic-cubexx]

welcome back to my accidental newfound journey to redraw every frame from this movie i GUESS

[heynhay]

scene from where the apple falls by @jupiters-junipers :-) wholeheartedly recommend any and all of her work

[hotdrinks]

U know I just think if you have a favorite character you also have to love the worst things about them bc it's integral to everything they do and makes the good they do more meaningful and makes them so sexy and cool

[arcanegifs]

Happy Mother's Day to our Arcane Moms ♡

[sleepiestwizard]

Gem spits the blood out of her mouth, wiping the rest of it off her face. She raises up and pulls her sword out of the fallen body, his horns broken and clothes tattered.

She finally looks up, scared to face the result of the concurrent battle taking place near her. The cruel hand of fate twists both ways, with her ally fighting her… something. She’s simply glad she didn’t have to be the one to face her again, memories of a time past clearer in her mind than the peaceful waves of home, blood and loss and swords and an arrow in her back.

Joel stands up too, brandishing his axe, gleaming with the witch’s blood. He’s grinning big and feral, teeth shining in the moonlight, wolfish smirk dangerously loud in the sudden silence that’s befallen their temporary residence.

Two wild animals in a standoff that can only end in more blood.

Gem still has her sword raised, keeping her eyes on the moving target, never straying to the corpses littering the ground. They start circling each other, two celestial bodies, never close enough to touch.

“So what now, Gem?” he asks, red eyes scanning her, red patch in his hair, red blood staining his face, red, red, red. His sharp grin is still in place, too wide for what the situation calls for, but Joel’s always been a fool.

“I don’t know, Joel,” she replies, voice even, face stoic. “You’re the one that started circling me like I’m some prey animal. I’m not afraid to fight you, you know.”

“Oh I know you’re not, Gem. But you should be.” He jumps at her, axe raised high in the air, clanging against her sword. She managed to block, but barely, his ferocity surprising her.

“Oh, should I now?” she asks, something teasing in her voice. The fighting feels natural, the way Joel matches her perfectly in this way making something warm and fiery burn brighter in her chest. It triggers a memory in the back of her head, one of simpler times, of wooden swords and trophy heads, of jokes and salty air.

His axe catches her as she’s distracted, too slow to sidestep the attack. Blood spills down her arm, and she curses, steeling herself. This is no time to be distracted, she admonishes herself as she gets into a lower stance, counter attacking with her sword.

Steel drags against steel harshly, sword and axe at odds. They’re grinning at each other, Gem realises as she tastes sweat and blood on her tongue. There’s something almost beautiful about the fighting, two dancers so in sync, it feels like a performance. Animals, performing an intricate mating dance, before they devour each other, angry teeth against flesh.

Her sword catches skin and guts and everything in between as she manages to hit Joel in the abdomen. He gasps, the first sign of weakness he’s shown since they’ve stopped being allies - forgotten are the nights spent in the barn together talking about anything and everything, their hopes and fears, huddling in a single bed when it was cold despite being too big.

Like a shark that’s smelled blood in the water Gem pounces, ferocious and fast, a flurry of steel and red hair, red rage, red, red, red.

But Joel knows her, knows inside and out, has spent days upon days sparring with her and fighting other people with her, and he side steps with ease.

Back to circling each other. Gravity against the vastness of space.

It’s Joel’s turn to spit blood, raising a hand to wipe at the corner of his mouth. The hand goes back down to his newly acquired wound and he grins again.

“That all you got, Gem?”

Gem screams, something feral and wild and lunges at him, his axe barely coming up to block her sword. His smirk falls off his face, a concentrated expression taking its place, sweat dripping down his brow. She privately takes pride in that, it’s not easy for Joel to stop pretending, to drop the mask.

The fight for a while, the sounds of steel and heavy breathing all blending into the melody that accompanies their dance. Their steps calculated, the choreography premeditated. They exchange the lead when they feel like it, both of them too untamed to allow themselves to be led for too long, their need for control equal as their skill.

The fight drags on so long, the first rays of sunlight rain down upon them, birds chirping happily in the distance, oblivious to the battle below them. Orange paints the sky and Gem pants.

She’s clutching her side now, the wounds she’s acquired over the course of the night catching up to her. Joel’s the same, their circling now taking on a rather staggering quality, exhaustion dragging their limbs down like lead.

“Don’t suppose you want to give up? Any minute now?”

Gem scoffs, a smile tugging at her cracked lips. Joel smiles back, softer than the situation calls for. But Gem’s always been a fool.

“Didn’t think so,” he admits, and charges at her.

Later, she stands over the bodies.

She is gonna bleed out any minute now, she knows.

She walks to the red barn, one last time. The sunrise paints the sky red. Geminitay bleeds out. Red, red, red.

[raineandsky]

#133

Fourteen years ago, the hero—barely twelve years old and several years from considering being a hero—knocked on their neighbour’s door with their basket in hand and the smile of a kid about to eat their weight in sweets on their face.

The door was barely open before the hero was shouting, “Trick or treat!”

“Oh!” their neighbour exclaimed as she opened the door. “What’re you dressed as, hon?”

The hero pouted dramatically. This was the question they’d been answering all night—how could no one see it? “I’m [Superhero].”

Their neighbour laughed and produced a bowl of sweets, the wrappers glittering like gold under the porch light. “Of course you are! Well, take your pick, [Superhero].”

The temptation to dig their entire hand into that delicious ocean of chocolate was almost irresistible. The hero swiped the top sweet to push that temptation down, not even looking at what it was before dropping it into their own basket. “Thanks!”

Their neighbour said her goodbyes as the hero hopped back down onto the path, letting themself out the gate and heading for the next house.

A flicker of white moved in the bushes next to the hero. Their gaze snapped to the side, scanning through the leaves for the culprit. Then, like a mist of horror and death, a ghost drifted straight through the bushes towards them.

The hero yelped, shaking several sweets from their basket as they leapt back. It hovered just in front of them, the sheet over its head floating slightly, eye-holes cut in to show the hero their distant gaze.

A real, actual ghost. Fear gripped their throat and glued their feet to the ground. No, think—what would the superhero do?

They cleared their throat, putting on the bravest face they could, and said, “Nice costume.”

The ghost didn’t respond. It simply stared at them with dead, far-off eyes. An actor, the hero decided. It’s not real. Just someone that’s really embodying the spirit of Halloween.

They tried a smile that probably looked more pained than they’d hoped. “Super realistic,” they continued into the quiet. “Did you make it yourself?”

The hero reached out to run a hand over the bottom of the ghost’s sheet, only to find their fingers phased straight through it. They paused for a moment, staring wide-eyed at their hand passing right through this supposedly solid object, before hurriedly pulling it back.

“Whoa,” the hero whispered. “Are… are you, like… dead?”

The ghost said nothing. It only continued to stare at them. The sheet floated around them like the hero hadn’t ever disturbed it.

“Um. Okay.” The hero shuffled nervously, glancing at their destination down the street. “Very cool. See you ‘round, anyway.”

They casually wandered to the next house along. They glanced over their shoulder at the gate and, seeing that the ghost was gone, swiftly abandoned their sweet hunt and ran all the way home.

-

“On Clarence Street?” the hero asks indignantly. “Fourteen years ago? That was you?”

The villain laughs brightly from where the hero has hastily tied them to a desk chair. “And you were the one dressed like [Superhero]? The only kid I couldn’t scare the chocolate out of? Oh, this rivalry was destined.”

The hero can feel their face scrunching up in annoyance. The whole process of seeing a ghost, researching the paranormal, feeling bad that someone was lingering after death, wanting to shape a world people could leave peacefully, taking on heroism in their career. All their life decisions had sprouted from that one moment when they were twelve, and it was the villain’s goddamn fault.

The hero takes a step back to resist the urge to punch them. “How’d you do it?”

“Projector.” The villain looks particularly proud, like they’re explaining how their most recent invention works. “It was one of the first real evil things I planned myself. I think it was the start of my career, that night.”

The hero scowls. “Makes two of us.”

“Be honest,” the villain starts with a grin, “did I getcha?”

The scowl only deepens. The hero doesn’t like the truth, but they’re not a liar. “A bit.”

Another laugh, entirely too proud of the stunt they pulled off over a decade ago. “Happy Halloween, [Superhero].”

[qoppybirdie]

i had a paramedic mood few weeks ago after reading a fic with her in it…drawings unrelated to the fic tho.

The one where shes holding the gray fox doll was meant to look more sinister but i didn’t know how to draw that exactly rip. Ill redo it sometime. Take that one as a draft version.

[puddii-ng]

happily ever after !

[rayjayoo]

surprisingly back with more phos doodles wOOOOOO

[storywestistrash]

watched mouthwashing finally. the fact that i saw people be more aggressive towards curly than jimmy is kinda strange. kinda real weird

[mamawasatesttube]

timcassie is so compelling to me. they were not into each other even a little bit. it was such a messy coping mechanism fuelled entirely by grief. they were making out with each other because they were both substituting each other for kon. cassie was far more aware she was doing this than tim was. unironically, dating a girl here is one of the gayest things tim has done

[avocado62524]