#but nah hes terrifying

[pixiatn]

Fucking forget being built like a tank, Gotham Knights!Jason is a wholes ass monster truck bro

[jztr-77]

solangelo in genshin clothes?? More likely than you think

[spotsupstuff]

as i'm workin on my Ancient stuff- i've got to say that it is really interesting and neat (read: nasty) that there's a good chance most of the Ancient population probably didn't actually wear masks. but We think they did cuz the only really solid evidence of what they looked like at all all comes from places of the higher social circles. and those strived for religious... superiority, i guess. brownie points, not actual dedication to the religion for the sake of its teachings but either because it made them look good, put them higher in the social hierarchy or whatever manipulation have you (or the flawed look upon the religion aka "we gotta get out of this cycle no matter what")

all we are left with are the bastards. the simple people and their cultures that were left to weather the Iterators' rains were simply washed away. nobody cared for their way of life- as long as it served the higher circles well and they stayed submissive (enough so that at the end everyone would take a dip in the void), nobody had to give a singular shit

just how much do we not know about the Ancients' *everything* because of this disregard? how much do we think we are right about, when such is true only for the small but privileged piece of the species?

[moeblob]

10/10 is Lon'qu Day so here we go, a 10 out of 10 family.

[esterigermaine]

AU where durge and Gortash have a kid together so Gortash gets stuck with a feral little bhaalspawn at his own coronation.

[internalscream1ng]

How much aura points did I lose when playing Tokyo Debunker in Chapter two after seeing Slender man in chapter one and confidently said "I can take them"

Then playing chapter two I threw my phone when I saw ghost of Takerou the first time?

[forgottenarthur]

50. Writer's preference - "And what if it is not you?"

The barb stung and Arthur turned away as quickly as if she had struck him.

These walks had become something of a tradition between the Prince and former Princess over the rolling weeks. With the out of doors near unpassable, Arthur's mornings had shifted to a shorter indoor practice before dawn, followed by a brief repast and then a stroll through the Orangery with the Lady Aria. Though they still argued as often as they didn't, there was something free and flowing in these conversations -- a strange sense that no subject was off limits...And that every single one was somehow taboo. It was perhaps true that they had each been raised as royalty, but it seemed their worlds could not have been more different.

Today, the subject had fallen to that all-encompassing theme of his life, the most pressing topic in the empire, and the one least likely ever to be openly addressed: Roderick's line of succession. It was an ache in his gut, this, a hill he had run up all his childhood only to find a sheer rockface confronting him. Now, scrambling for footholds in the brutal cliffside, it was a race to the top against those he loved most -- a climb now far too high to risk the drop. It was success or the death of all meaning. But what was he to do? Throw his siblings from the sides? They too held on by meager fingertips and he could not bear to think of them dashed against the teeth of the unforgiving stone so far below.

Arthur's jaw clenched. He kept her pace, but he no longer looked at her as she spoke; heard her only as if from a great distance. What was there to say? Yet, her last words burned, searing like vinegar in his cuts, and he turned sharply towards her, a rush sounding in his head.

"What? You favor someone else?" he demanded, all effort at bluster or calm stripped away. Surprise seemed to register in his face and, pressing his eyes shut, he shook his head, realizing she meant this only as rhetoric and, with a look of defeat, he sighed; shook his head. "How should I know? It would be the end for me."

He didn't look at her, now, gaze straying upwards towards the gently nodding trees, branches heavy and sagging with fruit. He thought of the tart-sweet of them, tawny and opening with a kind of crack. Fibrous chambers of juice attended the tiny seeds at the center and this, then, was life. Even trees limned their children with sweet cushions against the harsh reality of the world around them. When he laughed, it was a bitter sound.

Sighing, Arthur shook his head. "Aria, I--" but he stopped. He'd not said her name so baldly before and he gestured, helpless, voice trapped within his throat.

Her eyes were dark: not mere chocolate, but something else as if the sea had leaked into them and tossed against stormy shores within her mind. Her face was set, but he could not read it. He searched for something written there, something designed for him to read: he wanted it. He knew the message he wished to read. A very simple message. He wanted to read it again and again, see it roiling within the storm of her eyes. But there was nothing. She was no harbor. She was, perhaps, another deathly drop.

Aria lifted her chin. "Go on."

"I don't know what will happen if my father chooses someone else any more than you do. But I do know I will be a threat to whoever is chosen, simply for having been in the running, and..."

And if it were Edmund who were selected, whom Arthur regarded as the most likely alternative, he would not expect to long outlive his father -- or even his father's choice. Enemies of the House of Calainon had a way of disappearing. Arthur was not altogether certain they even lifted a finger: they were witches, after all. Likely, all they needed do was wish for a thing, and their dark magic did the rest. Edmund might not wish him gone, perhaps...but Amira would not hesitate. He could not help but think that would make for a horrible ending, all the demons of hell rising at her command. His would be a silent end, he had no doubt, yet he knew, too, that if it were by Amira's hand, he would die howling.

If Aria had said something else, Arthur had not heard it. At last, she said: "And what if the Emperor doesn't choose? What happens to us all, then?"

Arthur stopped short, and Aria beside him. "Then it'd be war."

He walked out without another word.

[silvertws]

Me: "mh.. idk what fanart to make"

Spotify: "lemme help you out"

*proceeds to shuffle "War of Hearts" 3 fucking Times in 3 different playlist which all contained hundreds of songs*

Me: "... Ok OK FINE I GET IT. Outsiders SMP it is!"

I'm going to apologize in advance, because the only full pov I watched was Owen's :}

So you already know what that means.

*fucking cries in fruit trio*

[charlies-crushes]

I love my robot husband so much he is my everything he is so cute and he overheats when getting hugged and he short circuits when getting kissed and he crashes from how cute I am and I do the same even though I'm not a robot and- Just... Look at him he's so cute <333

[evilkitten3]

the absolute worst thing in fanfics is when itachi betrays the akatsuki and kills kisame. like my man did not spend three-eight years politely babysitting itachi's 5'7" emo ass for this kind of disrespect

[psi-chic]

saiki would be SO scared of fnaf

[phoenixkaptain]

If you're taking prompts, could you write something about Tim being the most spiteful, feral teenager ever and the rest of his family wondering why the hell everyone presumes he's the sweet, well behaved one?

This isn’t precisely what you requested, but I did have an idea of something similar a little while ago! Only, it’s Tim being terrifying and everyone in his family realizing it, but Tim not understanding what they’re talking about.

I never finished it entirely, but I’ll share the opener, since I think it has the vibe:

Tim felt like he was perpetually exhausted. He’d felt this way since he was three-years-old and trying to work out the confusing mess of emotions that came with watching two people die the first time he went to the circus. His parents offered no support. In fact, they seemed to believe he would just get over it on his own.

Really, and people wondered why he became Robin. As though he was normal. Ugh.

The exhaustion had only gotten worse over the years. With every problem he solved, more anxieties crept into his mind, poisoning his thoughts. He couldn’t sleep unless he passed out. He could barely breathe when he saw any of his so-called “siblings.” Ra’s Al Ghul was still sending him thinly veiled threats, or maybe they were abnormal declarations of affection? Bruce seemed to think so.

Anyway, Tim was tired. There were times when he wasn’t, of course. There were times when he fought alongside Kon and Bart and Cassie, just like old times, and they all devolved into acting like fifteen-year-olds. Fighting criminals still gave him a sense of living, something he intellectually knew was adrenaline but also didn’t care. There was the thrill of a case solved, a plan gone correctly, his teammates working in harmony with him.

He probably should’ve been worried about it all. The only times he felt alive were when he was in mortal danger, after all. But, he’d come to accept that he might’ve lost a few screws when he let Ra’s Al Ghul kick him out of a building without full-proof backup. Even before then, really. He kinda tuned into it when he realized that he was trying to pull a mad scientist and clone his best friend.

Tim was very aware of himself. He could be suave and charming, but he was mostly a perpetually slouching young man with his hair grown out and his clothes mostly being stolen from his friends. He could keep up his poker face all the way to his death. He could lie to Batman. He faced death every evening and ran towards it.

He still remembered when Kon muttered that he was creepy. Tim still maintained that Kon shouldn’t have gotten distracted to the point that he didn’t notice Tim’s presence until Tim was right in front of him. Kon retorted that he had been eating cereal at the Kents’ farmhouse and that Tim shouldn’t have dramatically appeared from a shadowy corner. Tim told him that if they didn’t want people to dramatically emerge from a shadowy corner, they shouldn’t have any shadowy corners to begin with. Kon asked if Tim thought the Kents could afford lamps to put in all the corners of their house. Bart told them to stop arguing because even he wasn’t capable of following their leaps of logic.

Tim didn’t believe he was scary. Not like Batman or Nightwing (Nightwing was occasionally scary… when Dick felt like being so). Definitely not on Red Hood’s level, because Tim would have to be a criminal to be on Red Hood’s level. He was criminally disadvantaged when it came to comparing himself to Robin because Robin carried around swords. Oracle was a force of pure evil when angered. Black Bat was just scary in general.

Honestly, compared to anyone else in Gotham, Tim believed he was the one rogues worried about the least. He hardly ever went out, honestly, so they probably all forgot about him.

(There were some rumours, spread amongst the criminal underground, that there was a Gotham vigilante who was never caught on camera. Who was impossible to see coming and even more difficult to keep track of. Rumours said this vigilante wasn’t human, was metahuman or worse. They said the vigilante must’ve fallen in battle, because the vigilante suddenly reappeared like a demon, attacking ruthlessly and yet… Still no images of him. The rumours said he was a ghost, a vampire, or maybe even a demon.

Tim figured they were just being dramatic and told Dick to stop telling him about weird things that didn’t relate to anything. He’d asked if Dick knew why Hood kept laughing at him every time Tim saw him recently, not if Dick knew any fairy tales among criminals. Dick had stared at him blankly for a long time, then turned on his heel and left. Tim wondered if it was a bonding tactic. He wondered why Dick thought he needed to use bonding tactics on him. Tim was pretty sure any extra bonding was just overdoing it.)

Tim didn’t think much of himself in general, but in comparison to the other vigilantes in Gotham? There was no way he held even a candle to them.

Or, at least, he assumed.

[netrix-at-centric]

HE ATE THIS SCENE UP SO MUCH AND HE DESERVES TO FINALLY MFING JUSTICE FOR THIS MAN 

ABOUT THIS PARRALEL ,,,

[sharky857]

-- Regular Elliott stans: "Elliott is such precious malewife material, so sweet kind passionate he'll do everything for his S/O. A true cinnamon roll-flavoured Miette."

-- Me, writing a fic with some quite unsettling stuff in it: "Elliott can take full advantage of his 6 feet height to scare the ever-lovin' shish of whoever dares to bring hurty to his farmer. IDGAF if it's gonna be OOC, feckin' watch me, suckers."

[spotsupstuff]

Can ippeb purr? I think that'd be cute...

eh, lizards more likely do stuff like

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.