#PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF SOMEONE DOES IT

[benihime-ayoshi]

Y,know, I kinda wanna see a MDZS reaction fic where the people watching are the cultivation world from the Yilìng Làozū era, in about the Qiongqi Path, see the future in... let's say, 200 years, a time when the Wens just became a part of history and Yilìng Làozū is just an old tale, the new Xue Chonghai, a boogie man if you will.

They also are warned that some of them reincarnated there (HanGuang-Jun, Jiang WanYin, Nie MingJue and WWX must be included). They're seeing a reflex of their generation, the Jins being the new Wens, just as WWX said.

This generation then deals with it the exact same way they did, including a new Yilìng Làozū and a new version of Jins, but make it another Great Sect. Then they watch the same thing happening further in the future, rinse and repeat, again and again, untill all the Great Sects fall and new ones take places.

They see that this cycle keeps happening, and are all horrified. Wondering, what happened for this to keep happening??? Why is the future so bleak? How can we fix this?

Sometime while they're watching, WWX should go and say "See? This is what happens when you just follow the loudest voice instead of doing what's right. This is why you should investigate what's happening by yourself, why you make sure that nobody is doing anything wrong."

Now they see the consequences of their actions.

I leave to the writer to end it however they want-

[irate-iguana]

We need more weird historian rep in Doctor Who. The companions are too normal when faced with the prospect of time travel. I want a companion who makes a list of super specific historical destinations related to their dissertation. I want somebody whose first reaction to finding out that the Doctor is a time travelling alien is to create a Microsoft Word document and ask, “What caused the Late Bronze Age collapse?”

[tubbytarchia]

For the ranchers a bit more shleep i just really like charakters comfy and nice:Dc /nf

Eepies. Jimmy woke up to really sore wings but its okay because Tango

[dukeofthomas]

I hate the insistence in pushing Jason into the batfamily.

If he doesn't wanna go to dinner, he doesn't have to. If he doesn't wanna hang out with them, he doesn't have to. If he doesn't want to see them, he doesn't have to. If he doesn't even want to contact them, he doesn't have to.

It's so annoying to read fic and always see it presented as his Family Knows Better. Jason is just being silly by not realizing how much they love him and he just needs to let them break into his home and comms and life because they want him there.

[kroovv]

Just a periodical reminder that i do not allow people to use my OCs as their own character/ as their character face claims. Even in your private games, please don’t :’) thanks

[fumifooms]

My world shattering when I realize that Chilchuck is underweight

Post-canon Chilchuck stops dieting and gains weight real

Edit: I am going to SCREAM

[gallapiech]

Some Fields of Mistria Mickey doodles 😮‍💨

I made the mod public in case theres someone else on this planet who wants to play with it. LOL you can get it here

ft a little africa comic based off of a camera willow sent me

[iysure]

just girl-best-roommate things

[indiangp]

[revenantghost]

So with my Mom’s cancer being back, my own health stuff, and everything else going on, I’m not sure I’ll be able to be the most active in this round of bookclub (and I do have a lot of words muted and stuff hidden because of mental health and streamlining things and Tumblr's an ass about showing posts sometimes—so if I miss a post, please don’t take it personally!). ): It honestly makes me super upset

But I really hope that everyone has a good time and I can’t wait to see what people cook up! <3 Last time was SO MUCH FUN it makes me a little nervous about living up to those expectations aksjdkajsn But as long as someone has a good time, that's what counts :3

[catacomb-rats]

ok filmmakers/game devs, repeat after me: the Abandoned by Disney creepypasta garnered such success because creepypasta itself was still in its infancy, and "thing that's normally for children is spooky now" was a new and exciting genre of horror, not the MOST POPULAR genre of horror. The world is different now. Step- step away from Steamboat Willie. Get back here. Put down the blood. No, don't black out his eyes and make his smile really wide, that won't help- I SAID PUT DOWN THE BLOOD *swats with newspaper*

[marypsue]

bugs me ngl that the assumption now seems to be that ‘queer’ is always a shorthand you use for a whole bundle of specific labels that you ~*actually*~ identify with. Queer can be the only label. I’m not withholding anything from you by telling you I’m queer. 

[sampegger]

do you guys think the writers would have taken it more seriously if it had been alastair around relentlessly tormenting dean in late seasons as opposed to lucifer with sam

[achilleabee]

thinking about a Sweet Tooth and fable au.. Aax and Gus both being created in a lab, both escaping with a parental figure but not making it out with them. both being "feared" in various ways.

i cant decide if that would make Ulysses Pubba or Birdie, protecting their (basically adopted) kid and raising them despite the conditions. either way i sob. then maybe Vorago as Jeppard, protecting Aax/Gus even after their 'fathers' are gone?

also, the sick would probably be the skulk

[boos-gh0st]

Ever since we finished in stars and time my friend and I have been silly when reading dialogue in all of our playthroughs (currently finishing our second, working on two of our friends) and our current spiel is everyone having Jordans and the King having AF1’s and so [⚠️SPOILERS FOR ACT 5 END⚠️] when everyone shows up after the Mal Du Pays fight we were like

King: “Yknow what fuck you -creases your Jordans-“

And it is so funny to me thinking about everyone getting to the King without creasing their Jordans, just walking funny the entire way up and if someone tripped or wasn’t as careful someone else shouted “CAREFUL!! YOUR JORDANS!!!”

(Inspired by an Odile Ballin’ drawing I saw and sent him)

We also had one with Loop and Siffrin chats where we were just so obnoxious and silly as Loop and I can’t for the life of me remember ANYTHING of what we said regarding that topic and most of the other so I may make another post when I do but I am bestowing the thought unto you, the reader: ISAT crew but jordans…and the King with the AF1’s…

We were also in VRChat the other night with our friends and found an ASMR world and so we went there and for a while were just going off in our king voices going

“oohhhhh…. Ooooohhhhhh…. Bright one…. I see you have creased your Jordan’s…we see which side the universe favours…”

“Ooooohhhhhh…….. oooooohhhhhh… traveller….. you with the Jordan’s… no not- not you… the old one…. I hear air force ones are better for your hips…”

“…Siffrin, crease his air forces”

[you quickly salute to Odile and run over to the King, whom is shocked at the dastardly act you are about to commit.]

(Crease his Air Forces?)

>>(You only live once… Crease!!)<<

(You only live once… Run back to your family)

“BRIGHT ONE!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!” (/j)

We had this funny idea that it would be goofy if you could just type “crease his jordans” on your keyboard and you would insta-kill the king

Omg I was proof reading this and had the thought of siffrin whipping out a keyboard:

“Bright one what are you doing”

“[crease his jordans]”

“BRIGHT ONE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE- [dies]”

Party: “…”

Siffrin: “hey guys looks like we saved Vaugarde!” -insert the smile frame after he one shots the sadness-

I’m begging someone (maybe I will) to properly write something out for this because everyone having Jordans and the king with AF1’s and NOBODY wants to crease them is so funny to me. The king wanting someone to join his side, being the only one in all of Vaugarde who has AF1s

Imagine getting to BigFrin and it’s just

“Siffrin!! Don’t do this! You’ll crease your Jordans!!”

“Stars You’re right my bad homies” -shrinks-

This is a joke

But I think it’s funny anyway

I proof read this twice and missed a typo in the FIRST WORD sobs

I misspelled “you’re” this is embarrassing

[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.