#wow so much going on

[concernedbrownbread]

Before he could place a White Lotus tile down, General Ting had already moved three steps ahead in her strategy. Alas, it had become too late for a harmony, and Iroh had to concede that for one, the White Lotus wasn’t going to get him out of this mess.

The irony was not lost on him.

“I notice your niece is out and about once more,” Ting said, not taking her eyes off the board.

Iroh smiled, moving his Lily. “She and her friends have been enjoying their time in Ba Sing Se.”

“Have they?” Ting said, letting doubt seep into her patronizing tone, “Down here in the Lower Ring?”

Iroh was dearly fearful he’d lose more than the game should he confess where Azula was in the moment and wisely kept his mouth shut. Ting finally looked up from the board, her face as impassive as always.

“Your move,” she said.

“Ah yes, of course,” Iroh replied, breaking her harmony.

She nudged the piece forward, taking his Boat, “I would like to talk to her.”

Iroh blinked, the only thing that showed he had been caught off guard, “I was under the impression that you wanted nothing to do with my dear niece, General.”

“You talk too much,” she said, as he captured her Knotweed, “I’m hoping she is more concise.”

“Perhaps I may be privy to what you require of her,” Iroh cajoled.

“Perhaps when it concerns you,” Ting’s Rock broke into another one of his harmonies, “This is my city.”

“And I will not let myself forget it,” Iroh promised somberly.

He moved his piece. One last time. Ting huffed, vaguely amused.

“Stalemate,” she muttered, “Should’ve kept my eye on the Lily.”

When he laughed, she seemed utterly unimpressed.

-WIP for Lily White, Poppy Red. I'm almost done!!

[bacchuschucklefuck]

typical tavern scene

[gotham-snark]

Damian's had a rough time lately 😨 go hurt some bad guys with your dad

[xxcrystalinerose]

Supergiant is absolutely COOKING with their characterizations of Nemesis and Moros.

It's deliciously ironic how the embodiment of divine retribution, meter of justice and avenger of evil, is in possession of grade-school-rivalry level of pettiness against Melinoë. Unfairly taking out her frustrations on Mel (about something that can't be helped wrt. Mel's birthright too!). Regularly steals her lunch money so she can buy more stuff from Big Bro Charon. Forced into the passive position of standing guard at the Crossroads, preventing her from doing what she does best: actively punishing evil. Not to mention the hilarious occasional "I punch you once and I give you stuff. This is definitely a fair exchange" encounters.

On the other hand, the official Bearer of Bad News™, who sometimes engineered horrifying deaths because he and Sisters Dearest get bored on the job, feared and hated by all mortals, is an unfailingly polite, nice guy who doesn't know how to deal with niceties because barely anyone has ever been nice to him (even the Fates bully him sometimes). Receives one (1) gift and instantly suffers critical damage, afflicted with "Down Atrocious" status effect. Sometimes weirdly optimistic and willing to make the best of his time in the Crossroads, to the point of asking Hecate herself to teach him witch stuff.

TL;DR I love Nem and Moros very much and they have ruined my life. Good fucking food, Supergiant writers.

[sunshades]

What is happening...

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[benevolenterrancy]

(Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett) I think Shang Qinghua and Ponder Stibbons should have tea and compare notes about somehow accumulating so much behind-the-scenes power by doing menial jobs no one else wants that they could basically run the show if they wanted...

meanwhile we have Shen "meh good enough" Qingqiu

[mayasaura]

I don't wanna further hijack that poor poll, but the thing about Harrow's schizophrenia is that it's canon. The author has confirmed it, and shared that it's based on her own experience.

It's a pretty obscure bit of canon, so of course there's no shame in not already knowing, but that's why I'm so obnoxiously persistent about letting people know.

Whatever else is up with Harrow, autism or cptsd or any number of likely headcanons, she is also schizophrenic. I feel like that's too important to be handwaved away as a difference of opinion.

[egophiliac]

new chapter 7 installment dropped how we feelin????

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

THAT'S HIS DAD

[butchdiaz]

you get your dreams for free

14.8k – fluff, cuddling, getting together, 118 family shenanigans

or, five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober

“We’re tired, Buck. Let’s just –” He nods towards his bedroom, too tipsy and sleepy to use any further words, but Buck knows what he’s saying, their wordless communication a practiced art, and follows him into the bedroom. They get changed – Buck donning an old LAFD shirt that says DIAZ across the back – and settle into their sides of the bed without saying a thing, a not quite familiar step in the routine, but also not quite entirely new. They’ve shared a bed before. Eddie tries not to think about how it feels so different this time – the first time since he's realized what Buck means to him – because nothing’s really changed. Right? They lie there still for a little too long, bodies a carefully measured few inches apart. Eddie reaches for something to say, but he can’t find a thing, so he simply rolls over and turns off the lamp. The silence isn't uncomfortable, because nothing ever is with Buck, it’s just – uncharacteristic. Of Buck, especially. It’s not unlike Eddie to go quiet and retreat into his head when he drinks but drunk Buck? He would usually be rambling non-stop about medieval wine-making processes or something right about now. As if summoned from Eddie’s overthinking, Buck clears his throat, breaking the silence as easily as he broke down Eddie’s door all those months ago.  “Night, Eddie.” “Night, Buck.” Eddie whispers into the darkness. He listens to Buck’s breathing even out, feels his own eyelids get heavy. And maybe it's the lingering tequila in his blood, or maybe it’s the exhaustion tearing down all his walls of shoulds and shouldn'ts. Either way, he barely even thinks. He just rolls over and drapes a heavy arm across Buck's waist, like it’s muscle memory. The front of his knees press into the back of Buck's, and his nose brushes against the soft skin of his neck. Buck sighs and practically melts in his arms, and before he knows it, Eddie’s falling asleep faster than he has in years.

read more on ao3

tagging some homies<3 @2x01diaz @chronicowboy @iinryer @faethfigueroth @outdiaz

@eddiebabygirldiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @shitouttabuck @exhuastedpigeon @sibylsleaves

@roy-kents @henswilsons @buckgettingstruck @lemmeaskthedevil @team-118

@nicolegendary @leothil @youreonyourownkid @eddiediaaz @gayeddieagenda

@poughkeepsies @bucks118 @911onabc @pikapitou

[ricky-mortis]

Ok but Agent Curt Mega with long hair though?

[feralnumberfive]

I love these posters so much

[adamsrcnan]

It's official. I have finished The Sunshine Court. I have so many things to say and yet have no idea what to possibly say. It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect and heartbreaking and gut wrenching and an insane emotional roller coaster and everything i could possibly have asked for from Nora. Like she really truly delivered and i'm so fucking INSANELY grateful she has shared this story with us after all these years. We do not deserve her.

[hereforthecartoons]

ive been on an inazuma eleven kick lately. heres the dynamic of THE trio ever.

[barkovsasha]

matthew & stevie 🫶

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.