#((AND come up with a good name for her))

[sysig]

Let’s Geckin’ Gooooooo! (Patreon)

[deconstructthesoup]

As someone who is currently playing an artificer and made their Homunculus Servant a little French press with legs in honor of Emily, I for one am thrilled to see it return

[lunathewitchcat]

Shipssss

[molathesunfish]

my limbus bugs mainly based on characters that may or may not show up later... and one mystery feature for your guessing fun:]

[dukeofthomas]

Do you see my vision

[krotiation]

I'm too lazy to clean this up but I wuv them

[justaz]

Post s2, Jinx travels the world (what’s the name?? Runeterra?? Right?) and cons her way into free rooms and food by claiming her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong. Piltover became a global trading post and the Kirammans were already a wealthy and renowned family before. Being Jayce’s sponsor and Piltover being put on the map bc of Hextech and Caitlyn being dictator leader of Piltover for some time also made her name carry a bit of weight. But no one’s really seen her??? All they know is she’s pretty and has blue hair. Jinx just plays the dead mom card when being questioned (“I just had to see some of the world…as my mother always talked about when she was still alive…😔”) and people just let her be and give her what she wants.

Stories of the odd Kiramman girl spreads all the way back to Piltover and people make jokes at Caitlyn and Vi and they’re just like “???? Wtf are you talking about??” And then people have to explain and that’s how Vi finds out her sister is still alive, bc she’s shitting all over the Kiramman name by just. Being her. And pretending to be Caitlyn. While being herself. “Caitlyn Kiramman” isn’t as fearsome as it was before anymore bc now people just associate the name with Jinx and her chaos rather that the Caitlyn Kiramman

[amandayetagain]

people will ship a girl with two guys she hates and barely knows in a ship that is ridiculed on screen before they go to the obvious yuri

[vicontheinternet]

If Selina (the writers) were smart they would’ve trapped the winx girls in their greatest desire/fantasy kinda like making a story page for each girl. Like that episode justice league/supergirl when that alien plant trapped superman and supergirl in the mind in their heart’s desire so when they woke up they were grieving all over again. It would destroy the girls.

[qcoded]

Empress Edalyn!!! I don't think I have enough redraws to post them collectively, so I'll just post the recent ones LOL [Click image for better quality!!!! TUMBLR HATES MEEEEE]

Redrew her from this!! Aaaa i should've made the lineart thicker

[many-gay-magpies]

I just finished watching The Old Guard (banger movie by the way, absolutely recommend if anyone’s been debating it), so naturally my brain went the route of Old Guard DBDA au. I don’t know any details; all I can think of so far is that Charles and Edwin are a pair of immortals that have been at it for a while together, and the timeline of the story starts with the appearance of a new immortal: Crystal. As for what’s beyond that, idk—are there other people on Charles’s and Edwin’s immortal team? Or are they just a duo? Idk if the immortality loss thing happens to either of them, I’m leaning towards no if it’s just the two of them… but like. It would fit SO well.

I’m already kind of envisioning that it’s just been Edwin and Charles, doing good and helping people from the shadows for decades (or maybe even centuries if we stretch out the timeline a bit); not a direct role-for-role cast replacement of the Old Guard, but more of an insertion into the story structure/world. Like, Edwin as the older of the two, having become immortal a while before Charles and almost immediately getting trapped and spending a canon-adjacent length of time being tortured for his abilities—then escaping a short while before Charles appears and he starts having dreams about him. Their deaths could even be similar to canon: Edwin gets sacrificed (literal sacrifice rather than a prank this time) or maybe even put to death for suspected homosexuality and comes back; Charles dies of hypothermia and internal bleeding after his “friends” turn on him, but he doesn’t STAY dead. Edwin has dreams of cold, and pain—utter impenetrable cold—and of an attic, and a lake, and he sees Charles’s face—he decides he has to find him.

Then Crystal comes around, and maybe she has a similar background to canon—maybe even with the memory loss? Like, her toxic ex-boyfriend kills her and she comes back without a bunch of her memories—some kind of complication with the process—and she gets them back gradually over the course of the story (probably as multiple deaths clear things up/shift things back to normal). When Charles and Edwin find her, there’s a lot of complicated emotions, stemming from—well, both of them wondering why NOW, why another one after probable centuries of it just being them, but where Edwin is resistant and standoffish (he doesnt trust new people this close, why did it have to change, their life was FINE as it was), Charles is excited to have a new person around!! Someone they won’t lose!! Someone like them!! And meanwhile Crystal is just,, fucking REELING from this and also maybe being stalked by her crazy power-hungry toxic ex-boyfriend who was maaaaybe in the government the whole time and dating her because her parents had whopping political status. It’s a lot.

Shit, maybe Esther could even be another immortal—one Edwin and Charles don’t know about; one that’s removed from the dream-connection somehow, or one that they haven’t been able to pin down/get clear enough memories from to realize it’s a whole other person and not just, like, them having weird dreams and shit. And maybe Esther LOSING her immortality correlates with Crystal gaining hers, and Esther tries to figure out a way to steal the boys’ immortality somehow to get hers back… or maybe she’s NOT an immortal, but more of a Merrick-type character that finds out about the immortals and wants to take their power for herself? Idk.

Last thing I’ve been thinking about is, I want Niko to be an immortal too… but is she an immortal from the start? Probably not. Maybe she’s a normal mortal girl they meet while dealing with Esther and all get really attached to, who then breaks everyone’s hearts by dying when she tries to help Crystal get the boys back from Esther, providing Crystal’s first big lesson about the futility of relationships with normal human beings (while still being worth the pain for the value of the love while its there)… UNTIL she comes to in her grave in Japan weeks or months later, and the inside of a coffin shows up in all of their dreams. Or something.

I am hereby inviting anyone who wishes to participate in this idea with me to do so, in any way you please

[msnihilist]

How it started

How it's going

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

Gatsby: An American Myth opens up the painful notion that Jay was as much the voice at the back of Daisy’s mind as she was the forefront of his.

And how it might’ve been a comfort for Jay but a burden for Daisy.

Like at the wedding.

“I’ve changed my mind…” Daisy, won’t you wait? “I’ve changed my mind…” Daisy, won’t you wait? “I’ve changed my mind…” Daisy, won’t you wait? “I’ve changed my mind—(Daisy won’t you wait—)—I do.”

And worse, at the Plaza, tom screams

“Get some sense! Get yourself together. This will pass—my good name is forever.”

And there Jay is in the background.

Change your mind.

“Why don’t you two start on home, Daisy—”

Change your mind.

“—in Mr. Gatsby’s car!”

Change your mind!

“I think he realizes his little flirtation—”

Oh, change your mind…

“—is over!”

And this is when Daisy throws up her hand to shut them up and inserts, “For once in my life, I’m gonna decide!”

[widowshill]

— And do you or do you not have difficulty remembering such simple instructions? — Only during thunderstorms, sir.

THE SOUND OF MUSIC (1965) / DARK SHADOWS (1966)

[shadow--writer]

How about #50 ("With a memory all fragmented but inclined to miracles") this time?

thank you again :D <3 I apologize for how long this took me but I felt like it was my time for angsty jealous Heinrix at the Magnae Accessio.

He don't get a kiss though lmao. Not yet anyway. He's gotta work for it. Prompts 2.7k

~~

He stood just staring at her, knuckles pressed to his lips, hip pressed against the cool marble of one of the pillars, just watching the Rogue Trader dance. Her dress glittered like starlight under the lights as she danced with some of her guests, his lips curling a bit more when she accepted a request from Calligos Winterscale of all people. 

Emperor protect his soul if he decided to engage in conversation with her. He wondered how long it would take her to say some snarky comment and offend her fellow Rogue Trader. The thought was amusing to Heinrix, sometimes it did take someone new to remind you of your place in the universe. 

There was something odd curling in his gut as he watched them dance, focusing on Winterscale’s hand on her waist, and the way her head tipped back as she laughed, still poised. He thought back to the time by the river and the large rodents, her crooked teeth. 

His fingers tightened into his palm. Her lips moved to respond to something and judging by the new sour look on Winterscale’s face, she had smarted off about something or other.  Maybe about the state of Footfall. He was sure that was a sore spot with the other two Rogue Traders. She was batting her eyes and smiling sweetly, a sharp contrast to the way Winterscale was glowering at her now. Half of her face was hidden by a thin white veil, silvery white chains glittering against her cheeks and hair. 

He looked away from the dancing, that hand that wasn’t pressed against his mouth toying with his Vox. He needed to talk to her, he couldn’t keep dancing around what was waiting for her when she decided to retire. 

She was smirking as she curtsied to Winterscale, the other returning it with a small bow, his cheek twitching. She truly had a nasty habit of getting under people’s skin. 

She watched Winterscale walk off before meeting Heinrix’s gaze. She caught him staring, her smirk dropping from her face, a bit of colour flying to her cheeks. Or what he thought was colour, it was hard to tell with the light and her veil. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, moving off the dance floor and around aristocrats stumbling around, already drunk. She moved toward him, eyes never once leaving his face. Her lips were painted a deep blue, nearly matching her gown. The colour was smudged at the corners and he found it deep within himself that he wanted to smudge it more. 

“Enjoying the party, interrogator?” she asked, her voice awfully smooth. Practiced. She was treating him like a noble, and the thought was amusing. 

“As much as one can enjoy festivities off to the side.”

She turned to watch the dancing with him, giving him a better look at her. He wasn’t allowed much staring when she was being paraded around and swearing to her duties, so he took advantage of the moment. 

Her eyes were lined with kohl, making her eyes look much darker, and when she blinked it was…a little shiny. Her skin seemed to glitter in the light as well, from what he could tell, at least. The maids had done impressive work, managing her wild curls into something more…well, managed. The silver was swirled around into the bun that sat on top her head, anchoring the silvery white crown. There were little braids strewn throughout the hair that was allowed down, swaying as she moved. 

Her fingers were lined with rings made of the same silvery white material, along with chains falling over her cheeks. She looked like she had captured starlight and put it to physical being. 

She caught him staring again, raising a brow. “If you want me to spin around for you to admire, van Calox, all you had to do was ask.”

He flushed, head snapping away so quick he nearly pulled something. She stifled a little laugh, her head turning back to the dance floor a bit more graceful looking, poised. She looked worthy of her title, staring down at her kingdom and the people eating and drinking and dancing. 

“Lord Captain-” he started, a warning, a worry, a confession on the tip of his tongue. 

She cut him off there, looking at him again. “Do you dance, van Calox?” 

“I…pardon?” 

“Do you dance?”

His brows furrowed. “I’m afraid dancing is one luxury I do not partake in.”

She smiled, closed lipped, the back of her hand pressed against her mouth. He wanted to see her crooked teeth again, aching to reach out and pull her hand away. He kept his arms firmly at his side, however. 

She left a small mark from her lipstick on her skin. 

“Then you shall learn,” she said, almost a declaration. 

“Are you…asking me to dance?” 

She nodded, her expression serene as she admired those spinning around. “I will not have someone in my retinue who does not dance. Even Abelard took a turn around the floor.”

He winced. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer. I’d much rather watch.” You was on the tip of his tongue but he did not let the word slip. 

Her expression grew hard, an ever familiar small wrinkle forming between her brows, her hair spilling over her shoulder as she stared at him, head cocked. “That was not a request, interrogator.”

“Are you ordering me to dance with you?” He could almost laugh at the ridiculousness. “It would be rather embarrassing for you, I’m afraid I was born with two left feet.” 

“If I wanted to hear excuses from you I would’ve made it a request and not an order.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, his reply dying right there on his tongue. “Now you will dance with me. Even if it’s just once.” She tugged at his arm, gently, and he followed. 

The music lulled to a stop, people clapping politely, mulling around to find a new partner as he found himself in the middle of the floor. She moved his free hand to the small of her back, and raised their clasped ones to be at the same height as his shoulder. Her other hand wound around his neck, finding place at the nape of his neck. 

He looked at their feet, the toes of her shoes just barely peeking out from beneath her dress. He wondered if the skirts were heavy, and how they managed to sparkle like that under the candlelight. 

Her hand moved from around his neck, fingers gently tipping his chin upwards, just enough to look her in the eyes. Her gaze was firm, her touch light. He held his head up and her hand went back to the back of his neck, toying with a bit of his hair, absentmindedly. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” she said, her voice equally as firm. “You’ll only trip yourself up if you look down.” Her gaze softened. “Relax, van Calox. You’re following me, a fast learner like you will have no trouble. It’s simple, really.”

He chuckled as the music started, slower than it had been. She moved forward, and he moved away, feeling silly. “You have no idea how long my mother tried to teach me to waltz. To no avail, may I add.”

He stumbled on the next steps, emphasizing his point. 

She was more gentle than his mother when it came to teaching him, recovering quicker and with more grace. He kept looking down. 

“Heinrix,” she said, an order clear in her voice. 

His head snapped upwards more in surprise of her saying his name rather than any order she was about to bark out. 

“Eyes on me.” She started to spin them around, slower than the other couples around them. Her veil fluttered a bit with the movement, and he kept his eyes on her face. “Very good.”

He kept stepping on her toes, and normally she would’ve rolled her eyes or said something venomous, but she refrained. He could see her left eye twitching each time he stepped on her foot, however. The Rogue Trader had limited patience, and a temper he was very well acquainted with. 

“You kept staring. What do you want?” she asked after a moment of trying to get him to match her movements. She muttered something under her breath about his lack of finesse. He cast a look around them, too many prying eyes. People were already staring at them enough.

His head dipped closer to her own, lips grazing her ear as he spoke. Her skin was warm. “That is a conversation best in private.” He pulled away. “Noble people talk.”

Her confusion was evident on her face, here a moment and smoothed over the next. 

“This couldn’t have happened last night?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet as they made their way around the other dancing. Her tone was clipped. 

He stepped on her toes again, looking back down. “I’m afraid we were…preoccupied with a different conversation.”

“Look at me.”

He stepped on her other foot, feeling rather foolish for letting her drag him into this. People were starting to laugh at his inaptitude. 

“I told you,” he started, looking back up at her. “I don’t dance.”

“With a sour attitude like that it’s no wonder,” she snapped. “Let me lead you, you keep trying to lead me in a dance neither of us know the steps to.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat as she led him back and forth, skirts swirling around their legs as they spun around. The song seemed to drag on for eons, his palms starting to sweat under his gloves. Her hand was warm against his neck, fingers still toying with his hair there. Every time he tried to look down she tugged at it, forcing him to look at her. 

He nearly mourned the loss of her touch when the song ended, both clapping politely with the others around them. 

She curtsied to him this time, following his bow, her head tipping up before her eyes. They met gazes in the middle of rising back to their respective heights, his voice quiet. “I’ll meet you in your chambers, Lord Captain.”

She said nothing in response, his hand moving to hers to bring her knuckles to his mouth, and then he walked away. 

~~

“So, what is this about?” she asked as he shut the door behind them, her skirt making a soft swishing noise as she swayed ahead of him. 

He caught himself watching the way her hips moved for a moment, before looking away. She was staring at him, pressed up against the cogitator tucked by the wall. He could still hear the party, the music thrumming through the walls. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together, trying to find the right words. 

His words sounded tight to his own ears. “I…we…” He swallowed. “We don’t have much time, I needed to pull you away from prying eyes. I have something important to tell you.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking anywhere but at her face. 

She smoothed out invisible wrinkles on the front of her dress with her palms, her lips twitching. When she peered at him next it was through her lashes, inspecting him. “Funny how we always seem to find ourselves alone like this. And now you seem to have lost your speech.”

He exhaled, trying to offer her a comforting smile. It felt more like a grimace. “If you would allow me a moment of your time, I may find the right words to say to you.”

“If this is a love confession, my answer is to go find a pistol to shove up your arse.”

Now his eye was twitching. “Funny, but this is serious, Lord Captain.” She, throne above, remained silent this time. “When I have implored you in the past to not cause trouble, you, always, did not listen to me.” He stepped closer, holding her gaze now. “I need you to listen to me this time when I ask you to not be troublesome. I beg of you.”

Her brows shot upwards at that, pursing her lips to keep from responding. 

“There is something important that will happen tonight, not just your ascension, I ask that you steel yourself and be prepared.” 

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” she said after a beat of silence, both alleviating and spiking the anxiety he was feeling over the situation. “I ask that you go into the hall if you are.” The Lord Inquisitor wanted to speak with her and there she was worrying about getting vomit on her rugs. 

He wanted to rub his temples. “This is serious, Maeve.” She jolted at the use of her name. “I swear to you that you are in no danger, remember that. I give you my word.” 

There was a lull as she thought things over, her next words coming out incredibly softly, she sounded nearly worried. “What do I need to be prepared for?”

“I…cannot say. I swear on the Golden Throne and all that is holy that you are in no danger but there are lines I cannot cross. Doing so will cross vows more important than you or I.” His inhale was shaky. “I just needed to give you as fair of a warning as I allow myself. They can charge me with whatever they see fit later. I just needed to give you something, let you know that you are in no danger. I…because…” he struggled to find the next words, her gaze hard and aimed to the floor. 

He didn’t know what he could say without giving everything away and then actually putting her in genuine danger. 

“That is a really shitty warning,” she mumbled. “I think I would’ve rather you thrown up on my rug.”

He reached out to hold her face in his hands, getting closer to stare into her eyes. They widened at the touch, mouth moving to say something, or to bite him, he couldn’t tell which. “Maeve, I implore you, for your and my sakes, please do not be troublesome.”

“Unhand me,” she spat. 

“Promise me,” he insisted. 

Her nose wrinkled. “If it means you won’t hurl all over my chambers, fine. I won’t make more trouble for you. I give you my word as Rogue Trader.” 

He released her face, letting out another breath, looking her up and down before turning away and facing the door. “You should return to your guests. The absence of the newly ascended Rogue Trader will be missed.”

She was silent for a few seconds, his heart was thrumming loudly in his ears as he started to walk away, looking at her over his shoulder with a nod. 

“Until next time, lady Captain.”

She looked like she wanted to say something, expression a mix of confusion and anger, and he was grateful that she didn’t, as any sharp words would shatter his resolve, the door clicking shut behind him. She was right, his warning was shitty, but it was all he could give. He only hoped it would be enough. If she was anything to Calcazar like she was to him…he feared the outcome of that conversation. 

He let out another unsteady breath, grabbing a champagne flute as a tray passed him by. He truly hoped she would surprise him, it was doubtful but she was capable of small miracles. He just hoped one of hers would be making nice with the Lord Inquisitor. 

When she walked past him she did not spare him a glance, and he had to be okay with that. He was fine with watching her from afar like this as long as she was safe. Seeing her move back to the other Trader’s, however, made him grind his teeth together. The same odd emotion was budding up again and he found it to be jealousy. 

What would he give up to be the person she moved to in a large crowd? 

He downed the champagne in one swing, placing it on another moving tray as he massaged his temples. He didn’t know if he wanted to find out the answer to that question. All he could do right then was hope that she would make good on her word.