#that arm does end there

[likesdoodling]

Stranger: (shocked silence) "....um... hi...n-nice to meet you too..."

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x02 - “Watch It All Burn”

[ruporas]

drank too much

[ID: Digital Art of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash’s body is turned slightly away from the viewer as he holds a staggering Wolfwood by his shoulder. He has one foot ahead of the other, the foot in the back used to stabilize himself from tipping over. Wolfwood is tethering into Vash, his weight pressed into him with his arms wrapped around Vash’s waist and his face is hidden away as he leans against Vash’s shoulder. Vash’s expression can be seen, his eyes wide and mouth tight-lipped, and his face is flushed red. A speech bubble comes out from Wolfwood, saying a drawled “Spikeyyy...”. The background are desaturated pastels of blue and green, showing night time, as they stand in the middle of an empty street that is also lit by the moon not depicted. Yellow light is seen coming from the inside of a saloon. End ID]

[casualavocados]

I'm not finished yet. ...[🎶!]

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 13

[tidalst]

“Neil,” Andrew starts abruptly. “Have you got wings?” The angel gives him a curious look. “Yeah. Why?” Andrew chews on that for a moment. He turns to face Neil, careful of his hurt foot, and looks at him. “Can I see them?”

- Fanart of @stabbyfoxandrew's Guardian Angel Neil AU because I love it v much <3!!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

rewatching this over and over again.. mainly bcs tarn makes soundwave into a manlet but also bcs it's hilarious

[christakisbang]

kim daengdaeng my little puppy ㅋㅋ thank you for always teasing me and thank you for taking care of me ㅋㅋ gukbap ㅋ

[myuminji]

vash who loves wolfwood who loves vash in every universe that seals his fate with death.

[cable-salamdr]

“I want a kids cartoon with more diverse main character body types than just skinny teen” you guys couldn’t even handle Steven Universe

(Or Dead End Paranormal Park, or She-Ra)

[sysig]

For Requestober, Req.1

Scri dressed as an angel, Edgar dressed as a demon. It would be fun to see the roles swaped regarding costumes!

Day 3 - Angel and Devil('s Advocate)

[shannonallaround]

Pardon me while I go weep for three hours

[laserbread]

Energon universe spoilers ahead!!!

Me: I should go to bed

Also me: What if I drew something intensely difficult for a meme

[millidew]

slay the princess + togachako. anything is possible <3

(hey. click for princess shigaraki)

[tojiscrack]

jjk manga ending in 5 chapters? that takes us to september 30th and you wanna know why that’s significant?

it’s ten days after the supposed ‘death’ of gojo’s, and half of ten is actually five, which is also the remaining chapters left of jjk, and because we wrap up shinjuku next week, there’ll be four chapters remaining, four being the number of letters in gojo’s name, and that’s an even number. keeping that in mind, gojo has the six eyes which (you guessed it) also happens to be an even number, and the number of letters in his first name, and a positive plus a positive makes another positive, therefore gojo has to return in one of these final chapters because it’d make us all very positive :)

[mer-acle]

Nothing, just Zeus's kids sneaking off to one of his more hidden statues when he's mad at them or withholding love from them so at least they can be close to him that way, sitting in his lap or pretending to get a hug from him.

[loquaciousquark]

when will eppie hawke and fenris meet tavish and astarion? (:

"And anyway, it won't be that bad. One last little Fade rift. We'll barricade it up as best we can, send a message to Skyhold, go home, and—"

One of the craggy footholds crumbles away beneath Hawke's foot, and it's only Fenris's quick hand that saves her from a plummet back down the side of the barren mountain. "Hawke, please."

"Please yourself. I said you didn't have to come."

Fenris throws her a longsuffering look, the flickering green lightning of the rift casting weird shadows over his eyes, but he doesn't let go of her arm until she's got both feet on solid ground again. "Just seal it and let this be done."

"My heart's only desire, lover," Hawke says, smiling, just as another pair of voices rises from the other side of the rift.

"Careful—careful! It shocks like the entire Hells are in there. Where's Gale?"

"Wherever Karlach dropped him, I suppose, with that little sprained ankle of his. No, I see them, they're almost here. Come away, darling. No need to get so dramatically close."

"This, from you?" says the woman, just as she and her fellow voice round the far edge of the rift. "Oh!"

"Well!" Hawke says almost at the same moment. Two of them after all: a short, slim woman with auburn hair pulled back in a low tail, and a tall, lithe man with hair as white as Fenris's and eyes that gleam like rubies. The man has a dagger drawn already, a thin smile playing over his face; the woman's fingers rest on her sheathed rapier, but her gaze is open, friendly. Hawke plants her staff on the rocky ground in as welcoming a gesture as she can manage. "Fancy running into someone like you up here of all places."

"I could say the same," the woman says. The green rift, still hanging between them and stretching a good twenty feet into the sky, gives an ominous rumble. "Our wizard's been fretting about magical disturbances along the city's borders for weeks. He finally traces the source to this location, and here you are at the heart of it. I'd like to believe it's coincidence."

"Alas," Hawke says, "one of my greatest faults is a terrible habit of being around when things begin. Fenris can attest to that better than most." She lays a hand on Fenris's shoulder, but he's stiff as iron, eyes glued to the man's dagger, and he's reached back for the hilt of his greatsword. "I'm Hawke, by the way."

"Call me Tav."

"And I'm Astarion," the man says grandly, accompanied by a wholly unnecessary flourish of his dagger. "We're here to steal the world."

"Save it," Tav says sharply.

"Of course, my dear. Save the world. What did I say?"

Fenris makes a short, disgusted noise, but Hawke's pleased to see he's let go of his own sword. She doesn't think this Astarion is going to kill them—not easily, anyway—and she likes the look of Tav despite herself. Both of them quick on their feet, she thinks, both moving gracefully with an innate, self-assured balance. As Tav steps around the rift Astarion moves with her like water, without even needing to see where she's gone. It reminds her a great deal of Fenris and herself, actually, though Hawke would give an arm to trust her own feet that much.

Fenris, it seems, has come to similar conclusions, and he rolls his shoulders as he releases their tension. Even his voice has lost its nascent fury, which for Fenris is practically friendly in situations like this. "The rift is dangerous. We will guard it until the Inquisitor can seal it permanently. Be on your way."

"Inquisitor?" drawls Astarion with that same, thin-lipped smile. "Sounds like someone from dear Shadowheart's former enclave, don't you think?"

"I don't think they're Sharran," Tav says. "Are you?"

"What a speculative look you've put on," Hawke says, delighted. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Unless you'd like me to be Sharran, in which case, I most certainly am and in fact have always been."

Both Fenris and Astarion roll their eyes—hilarious in its own right, but heightened by the clear antipathy still remaining between them. Fenris sighs. "Hawke—"

The rift explodes.

Green lightning shatters over the rocky cliff. The rumble bursts into a deafening roar; the faint breeze that had been dancing around them sweeps up into a hurricane. The air cracks and snaps with a sudden smell of ozone.

Hawke throws her hand over her eyes. She can't see—the wind tears her hair from its bindings and she can't see past the brilliant flashes of blazing green and she can't hear— "Fenris!"

Someone's fingers wrap around hers. She wrenches up her staff, calls for fire—for ice—for anything—but the rift has become a maelstrom and every scrap of magic sucks into the raging whirl before she can shape it. Her boots skid on the stone as she tries to brace against the inexorable pull, pebbles and rocks rattling along every step. She can't—the hand wrapped around hers has seized tight as a vise, but she's slipping anyway, and Maker, she can't—

A man's echoing voice, stripped bare of all artifice, wild with fear: "Tav!"

The wind dies. Not slowly, not gradually; it falls off like someone's upturned a glass over the rocky cliff, and Hawke's ears roar in the sudden silence. The wind is gone, and the rift is gone with it as if it had never been, the thunderous clouds that had been swirling above it already dissipating to glimpses of blue morning sky.

"Andraste preserve me," Hawke says, loud in the quiet, and she looks over to see Tav still crouched against the face of the mountain. One of Tav's hands clutches a dagger she'd wedged deep into a stony crevice; the other is still wrapped tight around Hawke's wrist where she'd pulled her away from the tempest.

No sign of Fenris. No sign of the other one—Astarion. A long white scrape in the stone marks where Fenris's sword had sought and failed to find purchase, disappearing at the precise place where the rift had torn itself open.

Gone. Gone, gone. Her heart hammers in her throat, and she indulges in thirty seconds of agonizing grief before she sets it aside, turns, and pulls Tav to her feet.

"Well," Hawke says at last. "Looks like it's just you and me, then. Ready for an adventure?"

"Yes," Tav says, her grip on Hawke's hand like steel, and her eyes blaze. "You and me. Let's get them back."

—

Everything hurts. Everything godsdamned hurts, and Astarion lets out a pained groan as he rolls to his back and drops his arm over his face. His ears ring like bells, and something twinges painfully in his left hip, and the inconvenient sun has decided to blaze right in his face and gods damn it, he'd known they ought to wait for Gale. Wretched wizard and his weak ankles. Wretched Tav and her complete inability—

"Tav," Astarion says, and sits bolt upright.

No Tav. Not even the dark-haired sorcerer with the wide smile. Just that taciturn warrior in leather and half-plate seated on a rock a few feet away, watching Astarion get his bearings, his greatsword slung across his knees and a deeply sour look on his tattooed face. The skies above them are clear and blue as a song.

No Tav. No Hawke. No rift. No plan, and no company besides an irascible stranger with the same sudden look of dawning horror.

"Venhedis."

"Shit."