#or dissolved

[laxxarian]

No, cuz like

during the cloning arc of Danny, there's at least ONE clone that escaped without Vlad's knowledge. It was a bit more cunning and smart and knew that they had to get away.

The thing is, this clone Danny isn't a halfa at all, its a full on human. Alive and not half dead.

But it is sick and frail so when this clone Danny manages to get to the doorstep of Gotham, it was surprising.

lets call clone Danny as Daniel since it was the name that Vlad mostly used in his mutterings that Daniel caught on.

And while Daniel is in Gotham, sickly and lying on one of the rooftops, he met a vigilante with a red helmet.

"What the-?" Red Hood questioned when he saw Daniel's mouth dripping green blood or some kind of goop, which in turn reminded Red Hood of the Lazarus Pits.

"Who are you, kid?" Red Hood crouches down slowly to Daniel but the boy only turned his back on him, coughing and wheezing, "Hey! What happened to you?!" alarmed and confused, Red Hood shakes the boy gently. His fingertips could easily felt the cold coming off from Daniel's body.

And when Daniel stopped coughing, he faced Red Hood with a tired smile, "I'm fine." Daniel answered, "But I can't be here forever..." he added before coughing up some more of those green goop.

"Hold on, kid." Red Hood said, "I'll get you some help." but Daniel stopped him from leaving.

"Don't. I know when my time is up." Daniel said, "I'm just glad that I get to explore this far..." he wheezes out, "Don't feel bad tho... I'm just a clone..." Daniel stopped breathing.

And Red Hood thinks he's Tim's clone.

[froody]

countries will be like “nooooo our birth rate is falling exponentially and it’s effecting our economy” and immigrants will be like “hey can you let us in so we can boost your economy and fill your empty jobs and raise our children here” and inevitably the country is like “the only thing worse than a large scale collapse of our population is letting foreigners live here”

[st-just]

'White Americans don't have any culture, they're just [normal/boring/generic/empty]. 'Culture' is when you're quaint and exotic and have interesting ethnic foods and holidays." is such a grating bit of nonsense to have somehow become progressive commonsense in a lot of places.

[claypigeonpottery]

painted some of this with my fingers.

for authenticity?

no. I didn't want to wash my brushes

[egophiliac]

crossing my fingers and wishing upon every star that chapter 10 finally brings us the tweel cards 🤞🤞

[xaoca]

[kevin-winfield]

Thinking about the people who missed Alex. Missed Chris. Missed Stefan. Someone staring out the window remembering the quiet boy in the back of their class. The odd boy who ran quick. Great at maths. Didn’t laugh or make fun of anyone. Sometimes smiled. Never talked about his family. Had a spark in his eye whenever he heard about exy. Thinking about those people…

[theonewhowails]

do you ever wonder how old the twins are? how long have they been with the one who waits? do you ever think about how much of that time in the veil narinder spent totally alone, about how much of a stabilizing presence it might have been to have literally else around, after all that time? i think about it a completely normal amount, personally,

[psygull-arts]

And you may say to yourself, "My God, what have I done?"

[cor-lapis]

Fontaine is in remarkably good shape after getting completely submerged. Even Dvalin threw a few signs on roofs and whatnot

Kaveh and al-Haitham redesigns are mine (still WIP), while Nahida's is by fallencrowkarma

Masterpost of other quest sketches

[tatooineknights]

[cordspaghetti]

ok thinking about the shows more while i wait at the airport, just going to ramble. i love mcr. i expect grandiosity from them and i feel like they brought that by sort of performing in front of a blank monument to the Thing that is the black parade. and i feel like the experience they built on stage was very psychological maybe like as opposed to sensory or physical as u might with pyro, sculptural set pieces etc—they brought shadows, minimal projections, their german expressionist visual influence, lights… it was all kind of immaterial. which i think bore some connection to the interiority of the black parade as an album all essentially happening in the patient’s mind (most likely from within the confines of white hospital walls, even) and also allowed the audience to project whatever they wanted onto the stage. or like, the band will not show you what the black parade is supposed to mean to you now and they won’t show you what it was supposed to mean to you then. they are just there to make it real for 2 nights. and to command you to feel to the fullest i think, whatever those feelings may be or i guess whatever the album may bring to you. gerard’s speech about violent grief felt like a plain grant of permission & i am glad that they kind of stopped us in our tracks with that. i don’t know. from extraordinary narratives to larger-than-life productions mcr like to process heavy realities through beautiful fictions and for those shows i feel like the audience was what realized that aspect of their art—the presence of however many tens of thousands of people gathered together to scream every word an album front to back—it was amazing and i don’t know how to compute it. it was very silent from where i was between songs also, like we had some kind of singular mission. doesn’t that sound like mcr? it felt like we were their beautiful fiction

[one-chaotic-neautral]

Arcane ships ranked, for fun

The main ships and some rarepairs I've found, I like pretty much everything in the first 4 rows. I probably missed some but idk what they are and I'm too lazy to add more rn.

feel free to add your thoughts or ships but again its just for funsies :)

[the-odd-shu]

Lab shenanigans

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note this takes place during season 1:

Gender Neutral!Reader who got hired as the lab illustrator because neither Jayce nor Viktor can draw and they need an illustrator to document all their official papers with recognisable diagrams of their inventions.

The next part

Masterlist

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They set push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming with terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

The next part

[ent-is-indecisive]

read a fic by @uneducated-author (can be found here) that had what seemed like a throwaway line about edwin's unprompted lectures and charles as a metaphorical angel. rotating in the washing machine. alternate lighting under the cut

[yujateaandpi]

Sneak peek at The Ballad of Emma May. This will be a Fiddleford-focused comic releasing between Chapters 1 and 2 of Thirty More Years!