#woe text post be upon ye

[dogesphere]

I love how absolutely rabid Hydreigon goes when all your Pokémon “eat” the sandwich…. Absolute mad lad, no one else probably got any.

[frostedpuffs]

using my miraculous ladybug printed party napkins to pat my raw chicken dry because i ran out of paper towels and don't have any other options. sorry queen

[astranauticus]

inspired by this post by tumblr user @orphiclovers. the lines are direct quotes from the novel but the scene itself isnt a redraw of any specific novel scene, i just really wanted to draw black coat 1863 x white coat 1864 HSY lol

[madgoat212]

i need to get this idea into writing but

what if the hole in the sea is the start of a cycle

bastard pirate child loses a parental figure in the event, becomes parental figure to another bastard pirate child and returns with their new crew only for it to all happen again

and every time they think they'll stop it. like it's a linear event, they're the final stop.

and the circle is formed

[trueishcolours]

[stuffed-x-arts]

[homolobotomized]

KYAA! ♡ IT'S SIR CROCODILE!

[mvshortcut]

[kneel-to-seto-kaiba]

Me when I get surprised

[candyredappledragon]

He's judging you, Florian. He knows what you've done.

Nuhuh. He knows what you've done and you've been punished by sickness.

[richmond-rex]

Richard III: “one Harry, late calling himself Earl of Richmond”

Henry VII:

“Richard, Duke of Gloucester, lately called King Richard”

[dogesphere]

Me: Gets money back from Taxes.

My Car’s Check Engine Light: 😈

[kingstealer]

v'tchos tia's fingers close around the haft of the spear he's just been handed, and he is home in a way he's never been holding a staff.

the spear is nothing special--a piece of filed metal, lashed to a weathered piece of wood. but it's familiar in his hands, and as he goes through the motions of driving it through hapless wildlife, it comes alive.

his skill is praised, his aptitude for the lance extolled. but he knows in his bones and at the base of his skull that he's done all this before, and is just remembering it.

-

when he's offered a position as the pupil of ishgard's former azure dragoon, it takes no effort to accept--a skill that is quickly put to the test as he is driven out of the only place he's ever known into the brutal winters of coerthas, to end a neverending war.

-

as the snow, and the war, thaws, v'tchos stumbles upon a corpse in a forgotten alley in the slums--a corpse that offers him a sword.

"i've only got the one," he says, with a flash of a smile in his glowing red eyes. "take it. it's yours."

a stone tumbles from the corpse's pocket as he stands, and the ache at the base of v'tchos's skull flares. he fumbles through the hallowed halls of the heavens' ward, shaking from the weight of the sword, fingers drenched in blood and darkness. and something at the bottom of his soul curls into a smile.

-

he had picked up a grimoire, joined the arcanist's guild, on a whim--etrii had said something half-seriously about how little he knew about magic, back when the pieces of the war were still being picked up, and his contrarian streak reared its head. with whispers from a voice he would swear was familiar echoing through his skull, he traces runes and sigils in the book, puzzling through it. trying not to think about how his friends lay a few rooms over, chests barely rising and falling, and how little he knows about anything that could be done to save them.

not for much longer. he will figure this out.

-

v'tchos is in ul'dah when a passing stranger offers him a job. he is barely surprised when it turns out to be a ruse, and curiosity leads him back to where the lemures keep their court. the woman in charge hands him a crystal, the pain in the back of his skull stabs, and--

a haunting hooded figure hangs in the air over her desk.

something deep within him opens an eye.

hands barely shaking, v'tchos accepts the scythe he is offered. it's familiar in his hands the way the spear was--which should probably scare him, but he doesn't think to be afraid.

-

he stands over the defeated body of a voidsent, watching it dissolve into ash. coerthan winds flutter his coat and ruffle his hair.

the voidsent he has come to regard as his own creeps up at his feet, like a coerl seeking attention. we could do that, it seems to whisper. we could be that.

the thing deep in his soul, steeped in blood and shadow, cracks open a second eye.

no, it says, echoing across the ancient stone.

no, you won't.

something shatters inside him, a cage thrown wide. for half a terrifying heartbeat he's convinced it's the Light from the Wardens finally killing him.

a flurry of movement whirls across the ground. a piteous scream sounds silently before it is choked off, and there is the wet crunch of snapping bone.

v'tchos draws a shuddering breath--and is enshrouded in darkness.

a familiar darkness, he realizes. a darkness he walks alongside.

that's better, fray murmurs.

and he agrees.

-

the first time he calls forth bahamut, drawn from the aether that tore through him all those years ago, g'raha smiles. there's enough joy in that expression that he can ignore the flinch alisaie almost manages to hide, across the courtyard. the demi-primal swoops across the sky, and the former exarch's eyes are alight with wonder.

"that one's from you," v'tchos says, arm draped over the other miqo'te's shoulders. a grimoire faced in allagan gold and blue dangles from the fingers of his other hand. "and those old books in your tower."

g'raha just grins, eyes fixed on the sky.

-

v'tchos startles awake from a catnap at the sound of books dropping onto his desk. he blinks the sleep from his eyes to see g'raha standing triumphantly in front of him, his expression only slightly marred by guilt at having interrupted a well-earned rest.

"i found something new--well, old--in the Tower," g'raha blurts, fixing the immaculate tie on one of his armguards. "there aren't many references, not to the machi, but. this codex survived." he picks up one of the books.

"they didn't used to be just summoners. they could heal, too."

any remaining thoughts of sleep are stolen from v'tchos with that turn of phrase. he pushes himself to his feet, reaches for the codex, and begins to read.

-

the first real interaction v'tchos has with the viera who showed up half-dead to their confrontation with elidibus, after pouring half his blood back in his body when he insisted on helping fight the warrior of light personified, is with a blacksmith's hammer in hand. helios takes a cursory look at him, polishing a botanist's scythe, and says: i wonder what you could do with a firearm.

and while he proves himself more than capable at the marksmanship, where v'tchos really feels at home in machinistry is the tinkering. he drags cracked and broken allagan constructs from the depths of the crystal tower and remodels them to fight for him, alongside him.

that doesn't stop him, however, from standing at g'raha's side in the bozjan resistance. while they always have more things to do, curing tempering and all, there's plenty of time to for one catboy from corvos and one who at this point might as well be to spend fighting garleans on dalmascan soil.

and of course, there's no keeping helios from a cause. helios, who quickly proves himself as capable with a gunblade as with a rifle.

so it is that in the trenches of the bozjan southern front, at the gates of castrum lacus litore, and finally storming the dalriada, it is helios leading the charge with his gunblade, with g'raha and v'tchos at his heels--g'raha armed with his fragment of the crystal tower, light and dark magic at his fingertips, while v'tchos takes careful aim with a custom-built firearm, ready to throw a repurposed allagan construct into the fray.

[herethereverywhere]

poll was successful so um slides you this

[transflynnscifo]

choc: hey what do you think about [REDACTED FOR REASONS WHICH ARE TOTALLY UNRELATED TO THE LAST REBLOG]

me, who hasnt seen the video: :D oh yeah sure this seems cool! i can see it

choc: (it flew over his head...)

me: (watches the-)

me:

[scionshtola]

tomorrows bridgerton post might be a two parter. maybe.