#Law of equivalent exchange...

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Rare food talk with photos because bruh.

Look what happened to my poor frickin conchas 😭😭😭 I don't even eat the chocolate ones

[regicidal-defenestration]

The hard part about being a Doctor Who fan is that it is frequently bad. Don't get me wrong, it's often good too, and even more often it's simply Fine, but christ over these 60 years we've hit some astonishing lows

[candycatfalls]

and also. shmoop

[cookiiemancer]

I love him your honor

GITM -> @venomous-qwille

[attyrocious]

my hungry ass could not be a heart surgeon id bite it like an apple

[moonsglare]

every day, once a year, yelan takes a day off.

this is written directly into her contract with the tianquan. there are no exceptions, no special arrangements. on this singular day, yelan does not belong to the qixing; on this singular day, her leash and collar are abandoned, and she has free reign to do as she pleases.

what does she do? well, prepare for your anniversary, of course.

she hops out of bed, cleans up, tugs her jacket on and then slips out the door with the clink of her jade bracelet. it’s a clear day, and yelan tilts her head to the sky briefly, letting the golden sunrays warm her face almost like an embrace. you were never really a morning person, but the sun on your skin always suited you. she’d have to drag you out of bed to see it, but it was always well worth your grumbling in the end when you finally cave and offer her a smile which she would then steal with a kiss.

“ugh, yelan—“ you giggled, your hands on her chest gently pushing her back. your bracelet was cool against her skin, and the matching one on her own wrist hummed. she nosed along your jaw, pressing more and more kisses until she reached your neck. playfulness turned into something a little more heated, and her blood sang at the sigh she pulled from your lips. emerald eyes flicked up to you, teasing, challenging, and you managed a wry huff before tangling your fingers in her hair and tugging her back to properly kiss her again. it stung, beautifully, but yelan grinned all the way."

she shakes herself out of the memory, and steps into the busy street. liyue’s morning scene has always been crowded, and she blends into the throng with practiced ease. she follows the flow of the crowd down the wharf until she reaches the shop she’s looking for—a florist, tucked snugly between two other stores on the higher levels of the shopping district.

the owner, a midde-aged woman, looks up from tending to her orchids to smile at her. her eyes crease with familiarity at the sight of yelan as the spy steps into her store, fingers brushing the petals of a few flowers. the woman rounds the counter, and rummages in the storage for a few moments.

“the usual, i take it?” she asks, and yelan nods, leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers over the grainy wood. the shop hasn’t changed much, if at all, since she last came here with you.

you leaned down by a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, lips curving upward into a smile as you breathed in the soft, floral scent. yelan looked curiously over your shoulder, a hand casually resting on your hip. she asked if it was your favorite flower—you nodded, your other hand rising to just as casually cup her face from over your shoulder. “they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” you hummed, and yelan took a moment to ponder the question. in the end, she said they were nowhere near as pretty as you, and took the light smack you delivered to her shoulder with an easy laugh.

the florist clears her throat, coaxing her out of the memory. yelan recieves the bouquet—white chrysanthemums—with a smile, settling it in the crook of her arm. the woman’s expression is measured, but there’s a slight waver to her tone when she speaks. if yelan really had to name it, it sounds close to… pity.

“yelan—“ she begins, but she only flashes the woman a signature grin, before slipping out the door as quickly as she came. she has other things to get, after all, and the clock is always ticking.

(or maybe her clock stopped ticking a long time ago and all this is just extra. maybe it cracked when the rocks fell and the earth buried—)

she dissolves back into the crowd as she heads to her next destination: wanmin restaurant. she can smell the chili in the air as she makes her way down the street again, a sharpness only wanmin seems to be able to make. when she gets there, xiangling is boisterously calling out orders while her father toils away in the kitchen, with guoba tirelessly maintaining the roaring fire for his wok. when she sees her, xiangling’s grin only widens, and she waves her over enthusiastically.

“miss yelan! welcome, welcome,” the young chef says cheerily. “here for another batch of dried chillies?”

yelan chuckles, shaking her head. “no, not this time. i’m here for a few rice buns. with a sweet filling, preferably.”

“ooh,” xiangling coos, nodding. “are you planning to go on an expedition? rice buns are both portable and satiating.”

“you could say that,” yelan says vaguely. the little chef is right, in a way, since she’ll have to hike a little to get to your spot—but really, it’s because rice buns have always been a comfort food of sorts for you.

“how can you not like them?” you asked defensively as you trudged along with her behind the group. there was a slight smear of filling on the corner of your lip, and your expression scrunched up a little more as she wiped it off. her jade bracelet was cool against your heated cheeks. yelan only shook her head, teasingly remarking that spice was a much greater wake-up call than sweets. you huffed at that, taking another bite of your rice bun. “not all of us are masochists, lan’er,” you grumbled, and yelan laughed softly. her nimble fingers encircled your wrist, tugging you closer so she could take a quick bite of your bun. it was sweet, sweeter than she’d like, but maybe that was because you were there. and somehow, that made it good.

yelan pulls herself out of yet another memory when xiangling deposits the bag of warm rice buns into her hands. they’re freshly steamed, and the scent of warm buns fill her senses. she thanks the chef, and disappears much the same way she came before the young lady can get even so much as a word in. in the back of her mind, she can almost hear you chastise her for it.

(she always hears you in the back of her mind. if not, where else—)

there’s only one thing left on her list, and it’s incense. it’s late in the morning now, so the crowds have thinned out—and without her cover, yelan takes to back alleys and rooftops instead. she sighs, relieved almost, as she slips into the shimmering, reflective cover of hydro, darting like a minnow between buildings like rocks, barely a blur in the eyes of anyone nearby. the secrecy isn’t strictly necessary for what she’s doing now, but she’s been so used to being unseen that being in the open feels… unsafe.

it doesn’t take her that long to reach wangsheng funeral parlor. the young lady running the parlor isn’t in today—instead, it’s her ‘assistant’, the elegant man shrouded in such thick mystery that neither her nor ningguang has been able to pierce. he greets her with a solemn expression, no doubt because director hu has told him the reason for her visit. “incense?” he asks again anyway to confirm, his voice low and soft. yelan nods absently, her nose stinging slightly from the intense scent permeating the parlor.

she watches as the man disappears into the back of the parlor for a moment, before he reappears with a delicately wrapped packet of incense sticks. she slides a pouch of mora his way, which he takes wordlessly. she tucks the packet into her little pocket dimension, then turns on her heel to leave. just as she exits the door, he calls out to her.

“safe travels.”

she doesn’t deign him with a response.

her feet take her out and away from the city, down the familiar path to the bleeding wound in the earth—the chasm. the land goes from valleys to large, curling momuments of rock, carved by the force of a falling star. she feels that familiar tug in her chest, the voice that calls to her, that tells her to forsake the surface as her ancestor once did. she listened to it, once. and—

“go,” you whispered, pushing her away. half of you was buried under rock, and she could only see one of your eyes; the other was forced shut by the blood that trickled down your face. yelan nearly screamed herself hoarse, but you grabbed her face and kissed her. it tasted like salt, and her heart lurched at the wrongness. your kisses had always been sweet. you slipped your bracelet onto her wrist, then pushed her again, and then the earth heaved and groaned, and it was the last she ever saw of you—

she turns her head and rips herself out of the memory and the temptation; she has other, more important places to be today. she has other days to chase down her demons. she skirts the side of the chasm, slowly ascending to the top. she passes by the memorial to the millelith, and leaves a rice bun and a few sticks of incense as an offering. they too, deserve to be remembered after all.

(she wonders if anyone else comes out here to remember them. she wonders who will come when she’s gone for—)

it takes her a while, but eventually, she reaches the highest point in the chasm. the sun has traveled across the sky by this point, the afternoon heat mellowing out into a slightly cooler evening warmth. the sky is alive with shades of gold when she finally stops, drawing to a halt right before a smooth stone, standing upright from the earth like a silent vigil. she kneels before it, producing three sticks on incense and inserting them into the censer before the stone and lighting them. she sets a rice bun on the plate by the stone, and saves one for herself. the bouquet of white chrysanthemums, she lays on top of the stone.

yelan takes a bite of her rice bun, letting the sweetness settle on her tongue, as the floral scent mixes with the incense, filling her lungs and settling on her shoulders. she tilts her head to the sun, and the warmth feels almost like an embrace. and when she closes her eyes, the wind in her hair feels almost like a caress. when she opens them again, she lets them rest on the stone—the headstone, and she offers it a smile.

sitting on the edge of the cliff, your legs swinging, you smiled at her, nearly blindingly bright like the golden hour. your pinkies were twined together, your shoulders flush with hers. there was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums on your lap, and just a few crumbs on the corner of your lips. your voice carried in the wind when you spoke.

“happy anniversary, yelan.”

“happy anniversary, sweetheart,” she whispers. the wind carries her voice as well, and she hopes you hear it, wherever you are now. one day, she’ll join you, but for now she takes another bite of her rice bun and breathes in the scent of incense and chrysanthemums.

[skull-pun]

Now hold on, they may actually be cooking here.

[emilyronnie]

re-listening to the magnus protocol and I can't believe I didn't notice the emphasis on balance

the violin needed balance with a payment of blood for its beautiful music, the dice that brought bad luck but "it all balances out in the end", celia's speech about an imbalance in her universe that needed to be adjusted

which makes sense since balance is a massive concept in alchemy

so, is the oiar's purpose to maintain that balance? through eliminating anything (the charity shop, the magnus institute) or anyone (those killed by the externals they hire) that poses a risk? does the case filing system simply flag imbalances that need to be rectified?

of course the big question is why and also what qualifies as an imbalance threat

maybe they're trying to prevent something. if everything stays balanced, the Fears cannot manifest or don't run the risk of overtaking the world as they did in the TMA universe. too much of one kind of Fear in the world and everything becomes thrown off. if they're all equally satiated, then the world is "safe" (more or less). we know this universe doesn't work the same as TMA and so likely the Fears don't either, but maybe that's not just a natural occurrence

maybe the balance must be maintained

[lordichamo]

this post is literally him i think

[diminuel]

Let's see if I remember how to ask something in Tumblr, it's been so long.

Hi!! I really enjoy your comics and art about Crocodad. Both his and Dragon's emotional reactions to the babies are priceless!

This made me download the tumblr app once again 🥰

Do you plan on the mugiwaras to find out about Luffy's bloodline? How would that go?

Byee! ☺️

Hello!! Welcome back to tumblr!

Eventually they will have to find out! I don't know if this is something that I will get to draw or if it'll be something that eventually will happen in fic form? (Or both?)

I think in Stinky Child AU the first (honorary) member of the crew to find out is Vivi, due to her being present when Crocodile and Luffy will argue about Alabasta. She'll find out that they're family but not exactly how they're related.

I can imagine that Jinbei will probably find out a lot of information in Impel Down (he shares a cell with Ace, Garp comes to visit, Crocodile is down there too) and especially during and in the aftermath of Marine Ford because I cannot imagine Crocodile not going to want to know if his son(s) survive.

Robin will probably be able to put together puzzle pieces she didn't even know she had once she joins up with the Revolutionary Army during the 2 years.

As to the others... I don't know. X'D I haven't really thought that far ahead. It's obvious that those who do know Crocodile from Alabasta (even though that went down a bit differently in the Stinky Child AU) will probably be shocked - not just that Crocodile is Luffy's parent but also by Luffy's ability to still fight him and keep this to himself all this time. It's also a question of how the information actually "leaks" because Luffy's not going to say anything because he knows how important it is to keep certain things secret. Though I suppose at this point (when the whole world knows about Dragon) it doesn't really matter anymore. So maybe he gets the go ahead from Crocodile to share if he wants.

I'm always happy to hear ideas (though I must admit a very stupid one just crossed my brain. I'll have to go write it down before I forget X'D)

I'm always open to ideas, but when it gets to drawing comics, I probably won't get to things so far down the road in a while. I know from experience that jumping around in the timeline when drawing comics is a pain in the butt X'D (At least for me. I can't keep track and will probably write/ draw plot holes into being. Not that it really matters. It's always a work in progress where I can go back and change things.)

Thank you for your question! ♥

[i-am-randomtrash00]

HAVE THEY LEARNED NOTHING FROM FULLMETAL ALCHEMST?!!!

[takemeinyrarmy]

Come to Brazil 🇧🇷

[cannibalindsm]

Finally in the Battle Shounen he was destined to be in

[deimosatellite]

luffy abt law: i can fix him <3

kid abt law: i can make him worse <3

[chococrepes-art]

Bfdi:Tpot One will trade Two for Three to Four theory

Aka: The law of equivalent exchange theory

Ok, so, Idk if anyone has had this theory yet in this specific way but I've just got this idea.

So I was thinking about the theory that One works with Four (and doesn't actually care about Three or wants to save them), as well as the other theory, that One is trying to get Three out of Four (and doesn't actually work with Four at all), and then I realized that we can actually combine those theories into one singular theory and it's quite scary (for Two)

Ok, ok, so, what if, One is working for Four to get Two's power, to trade it to get Three back? Not to get it to forcefully get Three out of Four like we thought in other theories, no, to trade with Four.

What if One wants to get Three back but is obviously too weak to get them back from Four by force, so she and Four talked and Four said (or maybe One came with the idea) that in order to get back Three, another algebralien must take Three's place, otherwise Four won't give Three back to One, especially since it seems that Four hates Two but doesn't want to fight them directly for some reason, so Four told One to get Two (or Two's power) so that they can trade (or steal Two's power so that Two would be weak enough for Four to do whatever he wants with Two)

(Now, why would Four need One to do trickery to get Two/Two's power? Well either that at least fighting wise specifically Two is more powerful than Four, explaining why Four didn't fight Two when we all thought he would, or Four is still stronger than Two fighting wise, but Two is powerful enough to actually make it challenging enough for Four to not want a head-on direct fight with them. And that's where One comes into play because One wouldn't need to fight Two, One would just need to trick Two and the people around Two to get what Four wants, since while Four is very good at lots of physical things, he doesn't seem to be the best socially, and to trick somebody instead of fighting them head-on you need to be probably better than Four socially, and One does seem to be like that.)

You might be saying that 2≠3 however we have a few solutions for this:

First of all, both Three and Two are algebraliens, and maybe that's all that matters to Four. A person for a person. Equivalent exchange.

Second of all, if Four does care about the power or the amount the integer/integers equate to, then, may I ask you what 1+2 equals to? :))))))

This second version can take multiple paths:

Either One and Four already talked about this and One is fine with spending her eternity inside Four and is willing to do this for Three, or trusts Three will save her and maybe Two as well eventually, or she has another plan to escape, either by herself or with Two as well, in a "the end always justifies the means" style

Or after One has tricked and betrayed and kidnapped so many objects in the season, Four tricks One and after getting Two/Two's power from One, Four turns the tables on One and kidnaps her instead, along with Two whom they've already received from One, but Four does keep up to their promise and let's Three out. Maybe One signed a contract with Four, written by Four, and One didn't get a chance to read the contract, just the way the objects didn't seem to. (Maybe because Four didn't like the way One went about getting Two's power and is being picky, or maybe not)

Or perhaps there's been a miscommunication between Four and One, One thinking Four wants Two's power, while Four didn't want only Two's power, but Two as a whole like the whole person, so Four gets angry and now having his own and Two's power traps One inside themselves out of anger and goes to get a powerless Two as well before freeing Three. (In a very villain way, obviously, Four is Four after all)

[franollie]

nothing will ever compare to the batshit insanity that are my monday/wednesday 8am outfits