#it’s more likely than you think!

[completeoveranalysis]

[9]

MOM HOLY FUCK THEY REALLY ARE SAYING IT

EXCUSE ME

EXCUSE ME

WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THIS THE GREATEST THING 

LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS

Clamp absolutely set the precedent for this with our visit to Shura/Shara all those years ago. We’ve SEEN the possibility of being in the past and future of the same world and teleporting between the two. We knew the feathers could appear pretty much anywhere in the timeline of a world, given how time works differently across the mutliverse, and we DID just straight up go backwards and forwards in time via Mokona, so it’s absolutely possible for them to appear in the Past of the Kingdom of Clow. 

WHICH IS APPARENTLY ACID TOKYO????

WHICH JUST ABSOLUTELY BLOWS MY MIND WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT A WAY TO TIE IT ALL TOGETHER??

X/1999 IS THE SET UP TO THE CLOW KINGDOM?

THE CLOW KINGDOM IS IN THE RUINED ECOLOGICAL DISASTER OF OUR OWN CURRENT WORLD??? 

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle as a pseudo-not-really-but-kind-of-sequel-event to Cardcaptor Sakura but ACTUALLY ALSO being the sequel-kind-of-but-not-exactly sequel to X/1999???? Or Alternate Timeline X/1999? Where things are ever so slightly different but the world was ruined in the same way?

AND THE RESERVOIR

THE RESERVOIR IN ACID TOKYO IS THE RESERVOIR IN THE CLOW RUINS????

I’m REELING OVER THIS

THEY SET THAT UP

SAKURA WALKED THROUGH THE DESERT TO PURIFY THE WATER TO SAVE THESE PEOPLE AND IT MADE THE RESERVOIR THAT LOVED SAKURA SO MUCH THAT IT PROTECTS HER

AND WATANUKI! WATANUKI WAS AN ESSENTIAL PIECE OF SETTING UP THE RESERVOIR IN A WORLD BEFORE HE EVEN EXISTED IN THAT TIMELINE

And that’s Definitely the feather they’re talking about, isn’t it? The feather that Sakura left in Acid Tokyo is still in the Reservoir right now, and is the reason the water is magic and loves her so much - because it’s a piece of her, and -... well, a piece of her clone. But it’s a piece of SAKURA, and so they resemble and resonate with each other, and that's why the water is so close to her, but 'Sakura' can’t absorb the feather because she’s already a full person and those aren’t her memories, but the memories of her clone.

Meanwhile Sakura (ie, our cloned Sakura) is currently on the other side of the portal at a point in time that DIDN’T exist a few seconds ago, for Original 'Sakura', but the rest of the universe has moved on and decades have passed (even though no time at all has passed for her) and now the feather from her clone has ended up in the past that set up the reservoir potentially centuries before she was even born. 

Timeline!

Oh my god?

Oh my god. 

I’m going to be thinking about this forever. 

No wait I’m not done ACID TOKYO WAS like THE point in the narrative where everything changed forever. And from a Tsubasa point of view it felt like a world picked at random for all the Important Narrative changes to take place - but it never was! It was the most important world of all! It was the Clow Kingdom!

So Syaoran lived his life in the Clow Kingdom, and then his soul collapsed in Acid Tokyo, which was ALSO the Clow Kingdom, and then he went and died defending Lava Lamp, in the Clow Kingdom. All at completely different points in the timeline but all in the exact same world. 

Though I will say I am thoroughly baffled by the connection between the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and THE CLOW RUINS???

ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO BE THE SAME BUILDING?

Oh my god they’re in the same location aren’t they. The reservoir was underneath it and now it’s under the ruins. I suppose they have Magic so they could probably reshape them however they want but WHAT A CON CLAMP HAVE PULLED ON US

TO SPEND THE ENTIRE MANGA STARING AT THE WINGS OF THE CLOW RUINS AND THEY WERE SECRETLY WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME TO TELL US THAT WE WERE ACTUALLY LOOKING AT THE TOKYO METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT BUILDING ALL ALONG

THE AUDACITY OF IT ALL

[comradekiwi]

gay people? in MY hero academia?

[nubs-mbee]

Sneak peek sneak peek sneak peek!

[jjellysoo]

Xanxus as an afterthought. After the representative battles, Timoteo learns that Tsuna won and saved the Arcobaleno. He doesn’t learn until hours later that his son lost a limb and almost died.

[razorsadness]

The Mad Road, lonely, leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights at the world’s end, coast of blue Pacific starry night - nobone halfbanana moons sloping in the tangled night sky, the torments of great formations in the mist, the huddled invisible insect in the car racing onwards, illuminate. - The raw cut, the drag, the butte, the star, the draw, the sunflower in the grass - orangebutted west lands of Arcadia, forlorn sands of the isolate earth, dewy exposures to infinity in black space, home of the rattlesnake and the gopher…the level of the world, low and flat: the charging restless mute unvoiced road keening in a seizure of tarpaulin power into the route, fabulous plots of landowners in green unexpecteds, ditches by the side of the road, as I look from here to Elko along the level of this pin parallel to telephone poles I can see a bug playing in the hot sun - swush, hitch yourself a ride beyond the fastest freighttrain, beat the smoke, find the thighs, spend the shiny, throw the shroud, kiss the morning star in the morning glass - madroad driving men ahead. Pencil traceries of our faintest wish in the travel of the horizon merged, nosey cloud obfusks in a drabble of speechless distance, the black sheep clouds cling a parallel above the stems of the CBQ - serried Little Missouri rocks haunt the badlands, harsh dry brown fields roll in the moonlight with a shiny cow’s ass, telephone poles toothpick time, “dotting immensity” the crazed voyager of the lone automobile presses forth his eager insignificance in noseplates and licenses into the vast promise of life…the choice of tragic wives, moons. Drain your basins in old Ohio and the Indian and the Illini plains, bring your big muddy rivers through Kansas and the mudlands, Yellowstone in the frozen North, punch lake holes in Florida and L.A., raise your cities in the white plain, cast your mountains up, bedawze the west, bedight the West with brave hedgerow cliffs rising to Promethean heights and fame - plant your prisons in the basin of the Utah moon - nudge Canadian groping lands that end in arctic bays, purl your Mexican ribneck, America.

—Jack Kerouac, from Visions of Cody

[lumiereandcogsworth]

i love you belle, don’t be afraid

[lupine-trees]

toil & trouble

a fic for those rainy-dark-bright october nights. mischief-adjacent. you know the ones.

inspired by the @drarrymicrofic prompt “eerie” - word count: ~380

The October chill settles in over the city streets, fog creeping in amongst the alleyways as night crawls on, darkness falling early.

Draco stands on the sidewalk, rain-spattered, watching the shop lights streak on the oil-slick pavement. The cigarette between his teeth glows in the dimness, orange, a faulty mimic of the far-gone sunset.

Harry exits the pub behind him, the paper bag in his hand warm with the scent of fresh chips and vinegar. He meets Draco’s easy gaze, kicks his boot, restless, against the concrete. “Those things’ll kill you,” he murmurs, miming the cigarette at his lips.

Draco takes one last inhale on the half-smoked Marlboro, then pulls off it, Vanishing the rest with a snap of his fingers. “Old habits,” he answers, smoke low in his sternum.

“It’s awful dark,” Harry says, casting his eyes skyward.

“Fog,” Draco says, noncommittal, “and the new moon.”

“It’s eerie,” Harry replies, glancing down the street.

An hour ago, it’d been full, loud, bright. But with the drizzle and the cold, the crowd had moved quickly indoors, the clubs’ and pubs’ expansion charms working at full capacity to meet the demand.

“Halloween,” Draco answers, a restrained flutter of his fingers for effect.

Harry hums. “What are you meant to be?”

Draco grins, all teeth. “A dragon.”

Harry sees it then, the sharp glint of his charmed incisors, the dark, curly horns rising up from his pale hair, the iridescent emerald scales made-up across his cheekbones.

Draco exhales, his breath like a puff of smoke. “What are you?”

Harry glances down at his denims, his leather jacket, stompy boots, white T-shirt a size too small. “Trouble?” he offers, a crooked smile settling.

Draco barks a laugh, shakes his head. “Alright, Potter.”

Harry steps up to his motorbike, throws a leg over. He holds up the takeaway bag in invitation. “You coming? I’ve got two orders.”

“Presumptuous,” Draco answers lowly, all timbre, approaching anyway.

“Get on the bike,” Harry says, mischief materialized, leaning up to him, nearly pressing a kiss to the curve of his throat.

Draco steps back, difficult, rolls his eyes. “Alright, Potter,” he says again, throwing his long leg easily over the seat, pressing up behind Harry, chin tucked in at his shoulder, lips at his ear. “Go on, then.”

[top-shelf-tender]

{{I wonder how many people are going to have ✨opinions✨ about my rankings, lol}}

[gingerfan24]

I need to learn to art so I can recreate two particularly famous X-Men comic covers with Heinrix and my RT.

[pixiishi]

the a in apollo justice stands for arospec 💚 happy aromantic awareness week everyone!

[completeoveranalysis]

[2]

We last saw Syaoran dragging Lava Lamp’s body up the stairs of the reservoir to the place where Evil Wolverine’s portal opened. So here in the panel we have it from Evil Wolverine’s point of view - maybe for the first time???? Have we ever seen anything from this angle before????? I'm not sure, but even if we have it's RARE enough that it's striking to me. It’s usually Evil Wolverine facing us as he tells us information, so it’s wild to flip things around to see what he’s seeing. 

(As if we’re supposed to be seeing things from this angle, so we only know what he knows for this moment? As if he might be able to be TRICKED?! I LIVE IN HOPE)

And then the absolute fury in Kurogane and Fai as they watch helplessly, barely holding their wounds together, while Evil Wolverine says that even as a corpse Lava Lamp could be useful to him :) 

This man will take things from you even after you’re dead. 

There is no end to what he will try to steal.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Hold On: Drive Your Young Mind Crazy

CW: Dysfunctional family dynamics, depression, romanticization of the BBU system, that weird breed of dysfunction that large homeschooling families have

Someone runs past his room, screaming at the top of their lungs. He presses his hands over his ears, staring at the math problems he has been working on for the last hour. Only two of them have been completed. Another kid runs by screaming. 

“Shut up!” Logan yells at the door. “I’m trying to, to, to, um, to do my homework!”

“Don’t tell me to shut up or I’ll tell Mom you didn’t make dinner!”

He screams into his book. He wasn’t able to make dinner because he had to go get Leon from football practice, then Mary Ann wanted to go to the park, then Lisa and Louis needed help with their homework and by then it was six o’clock. It was all he could do to throw snacks at the kids and turn on the television for a few seconds of peace. 

Apparently it wasn’t to last.

“Don’t you, don’t you dare!”

“Then don’t yell at me!”

He swallows back another scream and turns his attention to his homework. He still has to finish his math homework, then read the book for English and start the essay that was due last week. His Spanish homework lies forgotten in his bag. He’s failing the co-op class, but has no time to make up for the missed homework. It’s all he can do to keep his head above water focusing on just math and English. 

Logan raises his head and stares at the posters on the wall. None of them are his. They’re all his younger brothers’ who share the room with him. Nothing in this room is his. Just the top bunk in the corner and the dresser drawer he has to fit all his clothes in. 

“Logan!”

The door slams open and he yelps, dropping his pencil. “Edward!”

“Where’s my shoes? Erin wants to take us to the park again and I can’t find my shoes!”

“Check the, the closet.” 

Edward steps on the edge of his notebook, crumpling the page. Logan sucks in a deep breath, his nose burning with the familiar promise of tears. He presses the heel of his hand against his eyes, desperate to keep from breaking down. Again. 

If this happens again, we’re taking away your phone until you can focus on helping your siblings. You’re the oldest. This is part of your job. 

“Mom doesn’t get home for two more hours,” Edward throws over his shoulder. “Do you think we’ll have enough time to get there and come back?” 

“Yes,” Logan whispers, praying his voice doesn’t crack. It’s started doing that recently and everyone seems amused by it every time. 

“Logan? What’s this?”

Edward steps back, holding his shoes in one hand and a magazine in the other. The blood drains from Logan’s face when he sees it. 

“Nothing!” he gasps, yanking it from his brother’s hand. “It, it’s nothing.”

“Isn’t that Dad’s sports magazine? Why do you have it in the back of the closet?” 

“No reason. Stop, stop asking!”

Edward rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Be weird about it.”

Logan clutches the magazine until his brother leaves the room. His palms stick to the pages with sweat and his heart races so quickly he can feel it in his toes. He sets it down gently, hating why he kept it even after his father wanted to throw it away. 

It’s his fifteenth birthday soon and his family is always asking when he is going to get a girlfriend, if there’s a girl he finds cute. He doesn’t know how to respond. How to answer that it isn’t a girl who’s caught his gaze, but Phil in second period whose hair is always falling into his face and he has to hold it back with a clip? There’s no way he can. Just another thing he keeps to himself. 

Along with the flier further back in the closet he’s so thankful Edward didn’t see. He found it on the edge of the football field. Glossy, bold gray lettering, a phone number he’s stared at so many times he practically has it memorized by now. Along with the nearest WRU location. It’s an option.

You shouldn’t talk like that. The counselor. Sitting on a hard plastic chair. The walls a stupid bright color that hurts his eyes. You have a whole life ahead of you. One that’s full of potential and possibility.

There’s nothing for him here. Just responsibility and pressure and taking care of his siblings as if he was their parent instead of their actual parents. 

That’s unfair. You know they’re working so much to keep a roof over your head and the lights on. 

Doesn’t change the fact they missed my birthday last year. 

Instead, they worked double shifts and he had to watch his siblings all day. 

Logan presses his forehead to his knees, rocking back and forth. Tears run silently down his face. There’s no way he’ll be able to focus on his homework now. He crawls into his bed. Presses his face into his pillow, phone clutched tightly in his hands, and cries. 

He can fail the essay and the test and his math quiz. It’s okay. What does it matter? He has nothing to look forward to anyway. At the end of the day he’ll still be here, trapped in this house, watching the clock for his uncaring parents to come back. 

He runs a hand through his hair, pretending it's someone else. He’s seen them before. In shows and movies and music videos. They are happy and excited, master or mistress right there beside them, giving them attention. What would that be like? To have someone give their undivided attention to him? His eyes burn at the thought, tears sliding down his cheek. 

Someday, that’ll be me. Someday. 

Tagging: @blood-is-compulsory @darkthingshappen @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @whumpinggrounds @pigeonwhumps (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

[worldenough-and-time]

Chapter 24: Who is the Monster

The next day a sign was posted on the wall outside the great hall. Unlike Umbridge’s earlier proclamations, It was not an existing page of the student handbook. It was a brand new policy written in bold typed text, framed and nailed to the wall, out of reach of even the tallest students.

It is now Forbidden for students to enter the forest without the company of a professor or groundskeeper.

“Forbidden? How can an entire forest be forbidden?” Sirius asked, frowning up at the sign.

“This is Umbridge’s doing. I know it,” Lily said. “And it’s awful timing, too. I still need to return Timby.”

The Nofflemott had stayed the night in the blanket fort with everyone, curled up on Lily’s pillow and doted upon by all of her roommates. Alas, she knew it was the ethical thing to bring him back to his natural habitat. Plus she was running out of fruit to feed him.

“Suppose that’ll be another school rule I’ll break,” Lily sighed.

[avisane]

risk! risk! risk!

[skyedancer-system]

Realizing that I’m a multifictive and wow it explains so much XD

-🚀Spaceboy/Kel (He/Star)

[sunriseverse]

how do you calculate an innocent life, the man who wu xie once was asks him some nights, when he hasn’t slept enough and that man crawls from the grave he’s buried him in. what gives you the right to decide who lives or dies?

wu xie ignores this, mostly, through action; if he is moving, his mind will fall quiet as he forces it to focus on the breadth of his kukri, the length of motion of those around him. makes himself put one foot in front of the other, avoid at all costs changbaishan and the tear in reality that blots out the picture-perfect snow and turns the birds around it into strange things that sing songs no living thing ought to be able to, at least as much as he can, because if he goes too far, the bond, his role as anchor, no matter how terribly he is sure he must be preforming it now, this marker of love and trust and truth he is evermore certain he does not deserve, hands bloodstained and mind far too willing to bloody them further in service of the only thing that matters, will snap, will break, and then—and then, and then: xiaoge, dead in a world he has no way of retrieving his body for funeral from. pangzi, on the other side of the country, dropping the knife he had been using to peel a potato as the ties that bind them shatter, irreparable.

you cannot measure the life of an innocent, wu xie knows this; but, too, he knows that he would willingly throw a thousand of them to build the pyre that will see xiaoge home safe and sound and no longer duty-bound.