#sortA

[lilkikibat]

Cycling au with wangxian.

Wei Wuxian ! Pro cyclist turned bike courier turned pro cyclist again??? Or is it a fluke??

WQ convinces wwx to enter into a road race in Gusu, where lwj is also competing and has been the race leader for the past 3 years. Wwx shocks everyone by hiding in the pack and at the last minute, breaks away and beats lwj to the finish line of the mountain checkpoint by using short intervals of an odd sprint climbing technique lwj hasnt seen before. He ends up winning and earns the title King of the Mountains, unseating lwj from the title and royally pissing him off in the process.

The long sloping mountains of Gusu are Lwj’s home, and he has trained there every day for the past 10 years. Climbing is his specialty, he’s honed his technique, perfected it. He gets to the top faster than anyone else. Until now.

Lwj is looking forward to returning the favor at the next race, but wwx never shows. Months later, lwj happens to be in Yiling training for his next race and in a chance encounter, crosses paths again with wwx while he’s on delivery. Yiling has very steep, short hills all throughout the city, which is why lwj is there to take advantage of them. Now lwj can see where wwx learned his sprint-climb technique, if this is the terrain he bikes all day long.

Wwx is delighted to see the handsome cyclist he almost lost to, but doesnt have time to stand around and chat— he has deliveries to complete!! He lets lwj come along with him, if he can keep up of course ;) it’s gruelling lwj has to admit, but he does keep up and atthe end of the day, he challenges wwx to enter another road race.

[quantumfeat72]

so... au where odile was right about siffrin being an assassin hired by the king to kill mirabelle? is this anything? too late i'm doing it

[yukiskyzero]

Redrew that bootleg OP plush that I got from a crane machine cuz why not

Also the robot hand there belongs to Megs

[livingbones]

art dump

I can not stay consistent with their designs

[jessicas-pi]

Unwilling Mand'alor Satine AU: Part Three

(part one (sort of?) || part two)

The Empire has been preparing for its attack on Mandalore for many years. They are well-equipped; more than enough stormtroopers to overwhelm Bo-Katan's Nite Owl forces, and Vader and his inquisitors will be there to deal with the Jedi.

But here's the thing.

Vader was Anakin Skywalker once, and Anakin Skywalker was there on the Coronet that day, all those years ago, when Satine Kryze pointed a blaster at Tal Merrik and couldn't pull the trigger.

Vader remembers this, and when the battle is being organized, he directs the plans accordingly. Satine Kryze couldn't shoot one man to save a ship full of people, so of course she will stand back while Mandalore burns and the Jedi under her "protection" are slaughtered. Satine will not pull the trigger.

Vader is so very, very wrong.

Satine hates violence, that is true. She hates war. The idea of taking a life makes her feel sick.

But she cannot, will not, stand back while the Empire does its worst to the people she has sworn to protect.

Satine pulls the trigger.

---

Kelleran Beq is leading an evacuation of the younglings from the palace when an armored Mandalorian he's never seen before runs past him in the palace hallway, presence burning with controlled fury.

Obi-Wan is drawing Vader's attention away from the palace when he sees a single warrior soaring high above him, a black blade in her hand.

Bo-Katan, who spent quite a bit of her teenage years getting thrown around the training mats by her older sister, looks up and grins.

The Empire will not win this round.

Satine hasn't worn her armor in over a decade, but the weight of it is familiar all the same. She is fighting for the Jedi as much as she is fighting for Mandalore, and the kyber at the heart of the Darksaber knows this. Satine is not practiced at wielding it, but she does not have to be. The Darksaber wields her. It is magnificent to her people. It is terrifying to the Empire.

But this is not the only sight that will be remembered, and in the years that follow, the legends of the Battle of Mandalore begin to spread.

---

Ahsoka has acquired a jetpack by this point, and she leads a charge of Nite Owls in an aerial assault on the Imperial ships hovering around Sundari. She takes a light cruiser by storm, smashing feet-first through the front window, lightsabers blazing green and gold.

(In this universe, she does not wield lightsabers that Anakin modified to be blue like his own. She uses new blades, blades that are hers, blades forged with beskar hilts and powered by crystals she claimed from the depths of the Living Waters.)

(Ahsoka Tano has become a child of two worlds, and she is wearing it well.)

She is the second Jedi in Mandalorian history to have an epic ballad written about her.

She will not be the last.

---

Years ago, Rex was dragged to Mandalore bound hand and foot, writhing against his bonds because his mind was telling him to kill, kill the Jedi, kill her, destroy her, destroy them all, even as every instinct rebelled against it. But Ahsoka and a med-droid working together removed the chip that had wrested control of his body from him, and he's been free for years. Free, and working to free all his brothers. There is a sizable squad of them by now, and they fight for their Generals and their Commanders and the brothers they lost and the brothers they still have.

They fight, and they win, and their songs of victory are sung proudly.

(Jango Fett refused to share his heritage with them. The Mando'a they knew was negligible; they never considered themselves Mandalorians.)

(That has changed.)

(They are not Mandalorians by blood, but by choice, because to a true Mandalorian, blood means nothing.)

---

There are many Inquisitors who accompany Vader to Mandalore---and they do not fail entirely in their mission. More than a few Jedi die.

One Jedi who falls is accompanying a Padawan when she is attacked. She screams for the boy to run, seconds before a red blade pierces through her chest.

But he does not run.

(Not this time.)

Though Caleb is nineteen and a capable duelist, he is no match for the Grand Inquisitor. He lasts four minutes before a slash to the face ends the fight, and he falls to the ground. The Grand Inquisitor steps closer, and raises his blade to finish the boy off, when a single voice rings out loud and clear.

"Leave him alone!"

Through vision blurred with pain---through only one eye---Caleb sees the form of a scrawny child, standing fierce and tall and hopelessly unprepared to face an Inquisitor.

The Grand Inquisitor glances over his shoulder, laughs coldly, then turns back to Caleb, twirling his blade.

"I said leave him alone!"

There is a snap-hiss and a flash of green light, and behind the Grand Inquisitor, the girl drops into the Djem So opening stance. The dead Jedi's lightsaber is comically big in her grasp, and she holds it backwards, but her form is precise, and she is undaunted.

"Come at me, hut'uun," she spits.

She can't be more than seven years old.

Caleb's grip on his own blade tightens, and as the Inquisitor turns away from him to cut down the annoyance, Caleb staggers to his feet and rams his blade through the Grand Inquisitor's chest.

"I coulda taken him," the girl complains, as the Grand Inquisitor staggers once and then drops dead at her feet. Up close, Caleb finally recognizes her.

"You're that kid," he says, gripping the wall with one hand because he's dizzied by pain. "The one Ahsoka's training."

(It's more polite than that feral demon child from Death Watch, which is also what he's heard her referred to as.)

Caleb grabs her by the wrist and runs as best he can---runs not for himself, but for a child in his protection---bringing her to the Sundari citadel, where the Jedi are taking refuge. A Twi'lek healer sits him down and patches him up as best she can, but his left eye is lost to him.

In the aftermath, Sabine draws a crooked jaig eye on Caleb's eyepatch.

---

A stealth squad of purge troopers, led by an Inquisitor, break into the Palace, taking it by surprise and cutting off the escape route for a group of Jedi children. Kelleran orders them to run. He says he'll be right behind them.

Most of the children know it's a lie.

Most of the children do as he told them.

But one turns back.

It is a girl, seventeen years old and different from the rest of the Jedi, because she's not a Jedi at all—only a lonely girl rescued from a dusty red world, the last of her kind. She stops and looks back and sees Kelleran Beq holding his own against the advancing purge troopers, and she knows he will not get out alive. Many of them have fallen, but many more remain, and an Inquisitor with them.

She wonders if she could even the odds.

No, she knows she could even the odds.

So she turns around. A Jedi boy runs after her, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her away, frantically demanding to know what she's doing. But she just grips his gloved hand tightly, narrows her focus to the purge trooper bodies littering the ground, and whispers— sisters, give me strength.

Merrin's eyes burn green and flame dances on her fingertips as she begins to chant.

(This story is spread in whispered rumors from stormtrooper to stormtrooper, and is usually dismissed as horror story nonsense. But the Purge troopers who were there to see it—well, they won't be forgetting it any time soon.)

---

Another Inquisitor breaks into the citadel in the center of the city, lightsaber flashing, ready to strike. The few Jedi Masters there ignite their blades, ready to defend their own.

But one holds her hand up sharply, halting the rest.

The verdant blade in her hand hisses as it deactivates, and she steps forwards.

"Padawan," she says.

The Inquisitor falters.

"Padawan," she repeats, more gently.

The Inquisitor's own blade deactivates as she stares in petrified indecision and fear.

But the Jedi doesn't hesitate at all. She holds out a hand to her, palm up. "Come here, my child."

The twisted black hilt of a scarlet saber clatters to the ground, and with a choked sob, Barriss Offee crashes into her master's arms.

---

Obi-Wan pushes past his grief and his guilt and fights Vader head-on. It is difficult to believe that this twisted monster used to be Anakin Skywalker.

At least, it is difficult to believe it, until Padme shows her face.

She wears armor painted in the colors and patterns she wore as Queen, and tears her helmet off to reveal her face.

Vader freezes.

"Padme?" he wheezes, sounding like someone reached into his chest and ripped his heart out.

Padme levels a blaster at his head.

Bombs fall and blasters fire all around them, but for the three old friends torn apart, there is pure silence.

"Padme," Vader says again, stepping towards her once. "Padme, it's---it's me, it's---"

She cuts him off sharply. "I know who you are, Anakin."

"But---"

"I miscarried. Did you know that?" she spits out. An accusation. (A lie.) "Our baby is dead because of you, and if Obi-Wan hadn't brought me to Mandalore, I would have died with her."

"Padme---"

Padme goes on, breathing fire and fury, because even if her children are alive and safe, her heart is shattered, and she uses that pain. She always has. "I called her Annie. For the moment I held her, I named her for the man I loved! I loved Anakin Skywalker---I love him still!"

Her voice drops low and she lowers her blaster.

"But---" She shakes her head slowly, never looking away from the skeletal mask he wears, and Obi-Wan knows she swallows down tears. "I don't know who you are. Not anymore."

And Vader does something truly unexpected.

He retreats, leaving behind a brother and a wife who watch him go.

(Both of them could have killed him.)

(Neither of them could do it.)

---

Above, around, and through it all, Satine Kryze does battle. Her blood runs hot, and she does not hesitate. She disarms when she can, injures when she must, and kills only as a very last resort.

But she does kill.

When the next morning dawns and the Empire is gone and Jedi leap nimbly from one rubble heap to the next, searching for the gleaming sparks of life as they lead search-and-rescue teams, the Duchess of Mandalore locks herself in her bedroom. Her scorched armor screeches against the wall as she slides to the floor, a blaster in one hand and the Darksaber in another.

She is too tired to cry.

She is too tired to be sick.

She is too tired feel anything but loathing.

Oh, Manda. What have I done?

But even as she chokes the question out to herself, she knows the answer.

She did what she had to do.

And she will never forgive herself for having done it.

[sami-guinea-arts]

Thanks to @itsnotmourn for the sheet! Okay…are ALL my OCs just taller than the average or the SM people all so short? Assuming this goes by feet...dear god lmao. XD I like to think the characters would have different heights if they had more realistic proportions tho. For example, Streber in the canon style has a huge head. Kevin, minus his hat...under 5 feet?... No way. Azura is 7 feet (200cm), Vincent is 7'1" (210cm)... I myself expected Frank to be easily at 7 feet.

[mammoth-clangen]

Ok so theory. And idk how to put it into words correctly. But are the sharp teeth possessed? Or like- does something happen to them that kind of turns them into monsters or killers unwillingly? Then they come out of it and are like- "oh shit-" is that what happened to the saber burnet saw? The sharpteeth or lilac? Dont gotta answer this, obviously. Just making theories.

Interesting hypothesis! This will be made a tad clearer next update but ty for sharing your thoughts at this time >:3

I will neither confirm nor deny anything but I will say that turning around and killing someone you know isn't the norm in any of sabercat cultures!

This is partially because they are anthropomorphic (and that would be considered murder), but even if that wasn't the case, most irl animals rarely outright kill their own kind because doing so is dangerous!

If you watch real cats fight, there's a lot of bluffing first. Getting clawed up is a great way to die of infection or starvation from being too wounded to hunt! So if you can give your opponent a chance to flee defeated before they harm you, it's in both your best interests.

P.s. I will always try to answer theory asks bc I really enjoy reading them, it makes me happy when people look deeper into the hints and lore I try to sneak in cx

P.p.s. really good footage of two lions walking around roaring for literally days hoping to intimidate the pride's current males into leaving without a fight (small cw that one of the older lions has a gnarly healed lip injury)

[kei-crocker]

I drew this fanwork based on this headcanon.

Tbh, I initially tried to draw the scene where Dan destroys clones of his human self, but yeah… you know, it was beyond my abilities. So, I decided to just stick to sharing my headcanons in words instead lol

Imagine if Vlad was sane enough when Danny was killed by his own ghost half—what if he had made clones of Danny to soothe his loneliness...?

(Oh, making clones of friends' son is insane enough already lol)

To gather Danny’s DNA, he would have had to use his dead body. Vlad, completely out of his mind, watched the clones being created.

And Dark Danny, disgusted, destroyed the clones, calling them revolting.

Unlike in another timeline, Vlad Masters only needed Danny. He didn’t care if Danny was a halfa anymore; all he wanted was warmth beside him.

To be honest, he didn’t care who was by his side—anyone could have sufficed.

The only things that mattered to him were warmth and consolation. Even Jack Fenton’s presence could have been a comfort to him. But unfortunately, Jack was dead too.

The only option left for Vlad was Danny. He couldn't obtain DNAs from blasted bodies(Oh gross). But this time, he didn’t have enough information about Danny, not enough to fully investigate or replicate him. At the very least, he figured making a normal kid would be far easier than creating another halfa.

After countless experiments and failures, he finally made a clone of the boy. The clone wasn’t stable, and he wasn’t the same boy Vlad remembered. But none of that mattered—what mattered was that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Although the clone wasn’t the bratty kid from Vlad’s old memories, he hadn’t changed past the 14-year-old Vlad remembered. Too much time had passed, and countless failed experiments only widened the gap between them. But Vlad was satisfied. He was content with the warmth he felt when he embraced his new "son."

[gummi-pix3l]

Posting on here more now anyways tomtord art cuz it’s my reason of life 😽

[starburr]

Sasha and Marcy thinking how to go about telling Anne they're a couple now but also wanting to clue her in that they want her too, stressing and going over ways to admit it. The inconclusive fears that she would feel too heartbroken or overwhelmed over it and they'd never win her over. Especially when the other two are very lovey-dovey with each other when they all hang out.

It all comes to a head one day when they invite her over for dinner. She's not there yet but they're both panicking at Sasha's place, trying to set the mood. Lights, decor, even the fucking food is as light as possible so that it might help their image of her. The pink hue of the living room is almost too bright but it sends a message well enough, they're just not sure if its sending the message they want to tell Anne.

A few knocks on the door snap them back to nervousness, she's here. They don't have much time to compose themselves again, sweat beading on their skin, their smiles held a bit too long on their faces. But Anne has something else to bring up at the table, clearing her throat as everyone sits down.

"Okay so uhm, I think I have an idea what this, is all about." She seems to fiddle with her purse, dashing as ever even when unsure how to continue with her words.

"First off, congrats on you two, y'know... Getting... Together and all that..." She seems to trail off, her stare now distant and out of it.

Sasha parses the discomfort, about to speak next but Anne fulfills that role.

"And you know, it's nice you want to invite me over to celebrate... Well, you two... I... Hmmm... I'm happy for you two really guys... I just... Well, I, I dunno..."

Uh oh. They clearly had a bit of explaining to do, but Anne is already stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom, powerwalking there.

Sasha stands up to grabs her arm, a bit too firmly maybe as Anne yelps in surprise.

"Annie! Anna-banana, hey! Wait, please... Let us explain... Please, that's, that's not entirely it, please listen to us..."

She seems to consider not listening to her friend's pleas, but relents eventually.

"Sashy... I'm, I'm sorry about everything bad I ever said about you... Fuck it, I might as well admit it in front of you two... That I, Anne Boonchuy, am such a fucking stupid bitch!" Her genuine frustration seems aimed at herself, Marcy can only offer a hug from behind as Sasha begins to gently cup her face, feeling the tears streak down.

"Now why would you, our bestest friend ever, and savior of Amphibia think she's a stupid bitch?" She coaxes, albeit gently. Soothing almost like she wants her to take her time.

After a bit of sniffling and making her the middle of an inpromptu cuddlepile, she speaks again. "It's obvious, well to me anyway. I'm a stupid bitch, because I'm in love with you two!" Ah. They don't know what to say, the tension somewhat relieved but now they have to approach telling her without making it seem like they're only saying what they want out of pity for her. "I know, I know! It's not normal but fuck that, this is what I really feel! I never wanted to ruin our friendship, not after everything but... I just... I really do love both of you, an-" "Ditto." Marcy manages to squeeze out, her throat a little dry and voice shaky from the crying.

"Huh? The fuck? Like the pokemon or, wait what? I'm voicing my heart out? Wait sorry, like what does that have to do with th-" Sasha interrupts. "Ditto. Like not the pokemon. She means the word in the dictionary, sorta means likewise. Or maybe 'same'. That kind of ditto. She was saying ditto in response to you, you saying you love both of us. And let me say it too. Ditto." The crying and wheezing abruptly dies down, only ragged panting from Anne as she sits down on the couch. They can't quite see her face given how she was just hunched over crying moments ago, but thankfully that's stopped. They do hear her say something despite the awkwardness of it all.

"Ditto, you fucking dorks." She even gives a little giggle, perhaps out of relief that she understands.

[horizon-penblade]

I was worried it might be another picrew where the only skintones are white and ashy greyish brown but it absolutely is NOT. Have some Timsasha

don't worry, folks. just found an absolutely breathtaking couples picrew because even though these characters never interacted in canon, they deserve to kiss. as a treat. to me. the fact that the creator chose to use such a detailed style while still giving a wide variety of options for things is absolutely mind-blowing.

I now present you one (1) hope swan jones and gideon gold

[esoterictboy]

I just think it’s super hot when people are bent over naked like, face down ass up showing everything. Like they’re just so fucking horny they don’t even wanna know what comes next it’s the perfect position like I could spit in your hole one minute and be breeding you the next and you’re just so desperate for it you don’t even care you’re practically shoving your hole in my face you just drool all over yourself and cum ? It’s fucking slutty.

@/tooesoteric2tboy - now

[laikabu]

[spandexinspace]

The DA2 crew deserved these team meetings. They would have had even worse arguments. Made fantastic use of all being in the same room to argue each other's ears off at the same time.

[lepitorus]

so that family photo, eh