#ill get over it (lie)

[thenerdyalien]

So I was getting lost in a Merlin Wiki rabbit hole, as one does, and I stumbled across the page for spells. And turns out the writers actually put a lot more thought into it than I initially thought (they're not actually just shouting random words in Old English). But what shocked me the most was learning what Merlin was actually saying to Arthur while he was unconcious in the Poisoned Calice episode. I always thought he was trying to enchant some sort of protection spell to keep Arthur safe while he couldn't be there for him. But turns out he was actually declaring poetry, POETRY to Arthur the whole time!

That's right, Merlin was declaring actual POETRY to Arthur on his deathbed!! I kept seeing the wiki mention verses from a book called Beowulf and I got curious so after a quick Google search, I found out that it's actually one of the most famous epic poems in Old English and I just lost it!! I never thought this episode could get any gayer...

[ganondoodle]

since tumblr always has to suffer my personal vents and breakdowns and rants and annoyances you get the most wips and pics of unfinished stuff, im sure that makes up for it

the (unfinished) shiekah arm concepts that made me want to explode and i dont think im gonna work on again

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #26

Danny had to go. Preferably somewhere far away from the shit storm that his home dimension currently is. So he does. Phantom travels the multiverse looking for the perfect dimension to call Home. The search is long, and isn't very fruitful, but he learns something new nearly everyday!

He would have been fine to continue this pattern of exploring a new dimension, label it unsuitable, and move on. But Danny had managed to find himself in a Situation™.

Eight-year-old Timothy Drake is dead. He died alone in a mausoleum of his parents' neglect. Tim has not been dead long, in fact, his skin had yet to cool. This simple fact, paired with the unimaginable coincidence (I think not) of Danny entering this dimension directly on top of Tim, lead to two (2) miraculous things happening.

One; Timothy Jackson Drake, son of Janet and Jack Drake, was now a full-fledged ghost. Something that normally would not have happened in his situation.

Two; Danny James Fenton, apprentice of Clockwork, was now bound to the newly departed body of Tim Drake. Having portaled directly into the body as its original soul left it caused Danny to become trapped.

Tim cannot stray far from his body, he must now guide Danny in How To Be Tim.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Thinking about a character model height sheet from the TAS BTS book that had magneto be 6’10 and charles 4’8 when seated like girl ……….. why the fuck ……. greedy….

[xxri]

maría for the ad astra zine! lc u will be missed T_T

[ciderjacks]

my biggest fear is that Jax will do something Really bad (intentionally or unintentionally) to a beloved character bc I will probably end up defending his ass against the entire fandom. My track record with defending horrible fictional people like my life depends on it is NOT good.

[the-deadlock-south]

we lost the game but i won in looking cracked in front of strangers so did we (i) really lose (yes)

[theokusgallery]

I hate that I have reoccurring themes in everything I make. YES this guy has a complex over the fact that everyone prefers his sibling AGAIN. YES he was ostracized by his peers since he was in primary school and never knew why until years later. URGH

[fluffishere]

Hip To Be Square HD

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[her-canine-teeth]

bad astrology by flower face

[hirokiyuu]

Heddwyn "Wyn" Caldera is a freshman from Diasomnia. He's well known in alchemical circles for multiple revolutionary breakthroughs in the world of potions, the first of which he discovered at eight years old. Though invited to NRC last year at age thirteen, he waited a year before accepting a position at the school.

here he is my baby boy......!!!! been tossing this kid around in my head a lot lately and wanted to make a profile card for him to show him off to the world. imagine me as a proud parent and ive pulled this out of my wallet.

based off the black cauldron. both the movie and like. the cauldron itself. naturally he is good at potions. since the cauldron is essentially a mcguffin wanted by everyone the idea is that he's extremely good at what he does but is also pretty vulnerable to being used. he's also very stone-faced bc he's...... made of stone............ get it.............

template is from here!

[just-spacetrash]

🤩

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I know that someone said this before, but if you DID make an X-Men au comic run which eras of the series would inspire these comics, how would you write them, and would you have Magneto or some other major villain as the main antagonist?

maaaan i dont know... i can barely decide what i wanna have for lunch most days i just make silly one-off comics i dont got the brain capacity for all that....

[pup-pee]

my father telling me how scared he was when i ran away from the house but i cant express how scared i was 2 b in the house

hey, whats up w/that?

[yutamayo]

byeeee