#i decree it canon

[descendantofthesparrow]

[boypussydilf]

in retrospect idk why i wasnt Actively Expecting simon to be. the way that he is

[spunkykirby]

someone did make an interesting point somewhere else

people inflate unrealistic levels of aggression between zhongli and neuvillette on a such personal level when in reality all of the negative projections we're conflating with these two (regarding the dragon-archon clash) would likely be more associated with Ei (or at least at the heightened level powerscalers project on neuvili) 😭

this isn't an Ei hate post, just pointing out her own past mistakes and flaws that would clash with the crying dragon at a higher level than some other archons

[shitpostingkats]

Hasajkldska @soul-matter hope you don't mind if I make this it's own post because your question made me realized I have never coherently explained my groupchat au

The yugioh groupchat au is the bucket where I throw all my headcanons and imaginary oneshots involving the yugioh protags. The basics of the au are that all the yugioh protagonists are in a discord server together, ad have the special kind of ride-or-die friendship found between long distance internet friends who have met in person maybe twice if they're lucky. Yugi started the gc (he's the moderator) with Jaden and Yusei after the events of Bonds Beyond Time (for the sake of this au, the gaps between series is getting squished so there's no time travel involved), as a way to keep in touch. Now, whenever they find another kid with trauma, a knack for cardgames, and frightening knowledge of the cosmos, they shoot 'em an invite. I went into a little more detail here

Other fun facts about this au:

It has an entire expanded lore and cosmology because I can't help myself. The bois have an entire channel dedicated to trying to figure out how it works. It's mostly just a record of wild things Jaden has said offhand and then refused to elaborate on.

Part of the reason they never see each other outside of international tournaments is that only Yugi and Jaden actually live in the states (and with Jaden, he spends half his time traveling or in the dark world so who knows where that boy is at any given time). Yusei and Yusaku (and probably the sevens and go rush kids, haven't decided yet) are in Japan, Yuya is in Mexico, and Yuma is in the Philippines.

Occasionally, Astral will pop in while he's visiting Yuma, but he's notorious for not remembering to log out of Yuma's accounts, leaving everyone to wonder if the person in the gc at 2am asking "do pigeons have feelings?" is an alien, or just a very sleep deprived Yuma.

Jaden and Yuya like to pester Yusaku to write them a plugin that enables keyboard support for the Eldritch Language Of The Damned that they both are fluent in.

Yusaku refuses to do this.

[longdeadking]

Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor, and a good one. There weren't rankings of employment in the Japanifornia District Prosecutors' Office, exactly, but it was an open secret amongst its employees that Chief Prosecutor Skye entrusted him with the most tangled, convoluted, and high-profile cases they were given. He considered it an honor, and wore the title of "Demon Prosecutor" like a crown. He refused to let the whispers in the break room get to him — the ones rumoring salacious interactions with the Chief Prosecutor, or sums of money paid to her, or forged evidence and lies in court that gave his defendants harsher punishments than they otherwise would have received. He knew they weren't true, and so it was immature to let them bother him. He would not be immature. After all, despite his requests for a name change being shot down each time, he was a von Karma, and von Karmas were perfect.

Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor, and he hated criminals. He considered them practically subhuman, and he could not find it in himself to regard them with any amount of sympathy — although, he would concede, he'd never tried very hard to. Those who broke the law were, in his eyes, incapable of being redeemed. The only recourse of justice was punishment, equalling exactly the severity of the crime committed, and no less. It was Miles' job as a prosecutor to ensure that justice was served. He could not falter, and did not; every defendant he faced was declared guilty. No defense attorney could compete with him. He was placed in a homeschooling program by his mentor and guardian, and graduated law school at only twenty. That feat alone, even without the supporting evidence of his spotless five-year record, would be enough to declare him a genius and a prodigy, but evidence was everything in court, so Miles didn't feel too badly about bringing up said record whenever he was challenged on his capability.

Miles Edgeworth was a prosecutor with a spotless record, his superior's trust, and a moral rage at criminals that could not be argued against. He was perfect, unflappable, unbeatable.

Except for, apparently, when his superior handed him a case file with an apologetic smile and an explanation that while no formal charges had been made, she was going to want him prosecuting once they had been, so she wanted to give him the file now. A case file that, when opened, revealed not a mugshot or frame from a security camera, but what was very clearly a cropped Instagram post, a selfie, showing a figure clad in a garish blue-and-red bodysuit that covered every inch of their body, including their face. The figure was, as best as Miles could tell, using the hand not holding out the phone to cling to a pipe on the side of a building, at minimum twelve stories in the air. Miles studied the photo for some time, but he could not figure out how the offending figure had gotten up there. Eventually, he gave up and resigned himself to scanning the rest of the cover page.

The words typed in wide font just below the baffling photo were not a name. They were, however, words that Miles recognized. Working in the legal spheres of Japanifornia, he would have had to have been astoundingly oblivious not to.

The words, the terrible words, the words that would eventually lead to the total destruction of the life Miles had created for himself, were as follows:

The Amazing Spider-Man.

Miles felt his eye twitch. This was going to be a truly awful case.

For how little sleep he'd gotten, Phoenix Wright was feeling pretty good as he rolled out of bed. His arms were sore in the satisfying way they always were after a night on the streets, and his sheets were barely creased, since apparently he'd slept like a brick.

He ran a hand through his hair as he hobbled to the bathroom, pushing back the flattened strands until he achieved something close to his usual spikes, although this time it was sweat and grease making them so spiky, instead of gel. He really needed to shower. The Chief would scowl at him for rolling in late again, but she couldn't really scold him. After all, he wasn't exactly some entitled slacker stumbling in hungover after too many shots at the local gentrification-chic rooftop bar.

No, Phoenix Wright was no stuck-up jerk. He was goddamn Spider-Man, and Mia knew it. So she couldn't say shit about him being late.

The hot shower was bliss on his sore shoulders, and after a leisurely half-hour in the bathroom, he looked professional to head to the office. 

During the day, Phoenix worked at Fey and Co. Law Offices as a secretary and paralegal to Mia Fey, criminal defense attorney. The office was cozy and low-profile, but it didn't need to be flashy. Anybody in real trouble knew Mia's name. When Phoenix first got the offer to work for her, he'd been so starstruck he nearly forgot to respond to the email. Thankfully, he remembered eventually, and now he was working comfortably under his brilliant mentor and friend, offering his perspective as an — ahem — professional to cases that smelled fishy. He wasn't in the courtroom much, but he didn't mind. He got enough attention from the public from his side job, thanks.

Today, Mia was already settled behind her desk when Phoenix walked in with a call of, "Sorry I'm late, Chief! Busy night, you know how it is."

"Phoenix…" Mia sighed. "I hope you slept well. I've got a new client I want you to look at."

Phoenix dropped his bag at his desk and meandered over to Mia, who had a file open in front of her and a few tabs up on her laptop. She pushed the paper file towards him first.

"I got a call from a friend at the PD. He said our client was asking for you, specifically, which was my first hint that this was an odd one." Mia clicked around on her laptop a bit, finally opening her email and refreshing the page a couple of times. Apparently, she was waiting for something.

Phoenix hummed. "Like, me me, or…"

"Yes, you you, Phoenix Wright, my assistant," Mia said. "I'm pretty sure my friend doesn't know about not-you. As in, he doesn't know it's you, not that he doesn't know you. Everybody knows you."

"You used you a lot in that sentence," Phoenix pointed out.

"Hush, you. Read the case."

"On it, boss," Phoenix said, giving Mia a two-finger salute.

He didn't have to read far before it shocked him.

"Larry Butz? What's he in for?"

Mia sighed and rubbed her temples. Usually, Phoenix could sort of forget that Mia had years of experience over him, but in this moment, it seemed like all those years hit her all at once. She had those moments sometimes. "Murder. What else?" she said.

Phoenix's eyebrows, already reaching an impressive altitude, climbed even higher. "Well, he's not guilty."

"You sound pretty certain," Mia said.

Phoenix shrugged. "Yeah, well, I know him. He's a ditz, not a killer. Who's the victim?"

"Maybe if you read the case file, you'd find out," Mia said, turning back to her laptop with a tiny frown. It was the most negative expression Phoenix had ever seen her make.

So Phoenix did read the case file. Well, kind of. He tried to, for sure. He was just a little, distracted.

See, there weren't many people in the world Phoenix was close to, and even fewer that knew about his secret identity. In fact, there were only two.

Mia Fey, his mentor, who didn't get told so much as she found out, after lining up Phoenix's late nights fighting crime with his late, sore, tired mornings on the job;

And Larry Butz, his best friend since grade school, who didn't get told so much as he was there for it, when Phoenix got bit by that spider while doing some light trespassing, and then when his superpowers spontaneously developed at the sleepover that night.

Larry was kind of an idiot, and he fell in love too fast for his own good, but he was kind, in his own way, and what he lacked in academic skill he made up for with his artistic talent. He could pick up any medium and his sense of aesthetic was unmatched, although you wouldn't guess it from looking at him. He was the one who inspired Phoenix to chase his dreams of becoming an actor. Although these days, Phoenix found himself regretting his decision to pass up pre-law. Still, Larry was reliable and a genius in his craft.

He was the one who made Phoenix's suits, actually. From the ground up, design to finished product. He never let Phoenix pay him, insisting that he was only helping out his "best bro." Phoenix never really pushed that hard, considering free was a whole lot better than whatever he'd be paying some tailor, factoring in the hush money. Phoenix was endlessly grateful for Larry's ability to keep secrets and his generosity. Not that he'd ever tell him, obviously. If the Butz got a big head it would be a disaster.

Mia's voice pulled Phoenix out of his reminiscing. "Are you alright, Wright?"

"Right as rain," Phoenix said automatically. It was a terrible joke he'd made the first time they met, and Mia liked it so much that it stuck. "Did you say something?"

"Just that the police are through with him, so if you'd like, we can go down to the detention center and interview Mr. Butz now," Mia said.

Phoenix nodded, scooping up the case file and grabbing his bag. Mia joined him and the pair walked out together into the streets towards the detention center.

"Was that what you were waiting for?" Phoenix asked.

Mia blinked. "What?"

"You kept refreshing your email. I was wondering if you were waiting for the go-ahead from the police."

"Oh, no, that was something else."

Phoenix nodded, but Mia didn't say any more. "Cool," he said lamely. "So. Larry. Why do they think he did it?"

"No idea, I'm afraid." The far-away look in Mia's eyes vanished as conversation came back around to the case. "I tried asking the detective in charge of investigations, but he's harder to talk circles around on the phone. I hope he'll still be at the detention center when we get there."

"Chief!" Phoenix put a hand to his heart, pretending to be shocked. "Conspiring against the upstanding members of the police force to get information? How could you do such a terrible thing?"

"Sure, because your method of justice is so legally squeaky-clean," Mia scoffed.

"Hey, I'm not a lawyer, I don't have to follow laws."

"You know that isn't true."

"Besides, if I ever get arrested, I know a top-notch attorney that'll defend me." Phoenix nudged Mia with his elbow.

"Oh, really? And who would that be? Because I know I'd be on the witness stand, hand in hand with Winston Payne to take you down, Terror of Japanifornia."

"Winston Payne! Chief, you wound me."

Mia shook her head. "I can tell you majored in theater. We're here."

The detention center was an ominous-looking gray concrete box attached to the police department. Walking past it always gave Phoenix the creeps. Something about the barred windows and blocky architecture made it feel like you were the one in prison, or at the very least, you deserved to be.

Or maybe that was because most of the times Phoenix was near the police department, he was technically doing crime. 

Still, Larry was waiting for him inside, so he followed dutifully after Mia through the front office and into the visitor's room.

Larry was already there when they walked in, and it looked like he'd been crying. His hair was a wreck, and not in his usual way. He was slumped over the little table like a drunk at closing time, and when he looked up at Phoenix, his bottom lip actually trembled.

"Nick! Come on, I didn't do it! I'm too soft for prison, man! I'm too young to die!" Larry wailed.

Phoenix resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. "You're not going to prison, Larry. Unless you did kill somebody."

"I would never!" Larry, to Phoenix's shock and horror, started sobbing again, fat tears tracing well-worn tracks down his face. "How could you! I loved her, man, I wouldn't ever kill her!"

"So the victim, Ms. Stone, she was-" Mia jumped in to save Phoenix.

"She was my girl, yeah," Larry said, sobs vanishing completely as he stared wistfully into the middle distance, no doubt recalling fond memories of whoever this girl was. "She was a bombshell. Almost as pretty as you." He smiled what Phoenix was sure he thought was a winning smile at Mia.

"Thank you, Mr. Butz. I'm sure this is hard for you to talk about, but we really need all the information we can get," Mia powered on.

Larry, though, looked confused. "Uh, who's 'we?' I asked for Nick to defend me, miss, no offense."

"I'm not a real lawyer," Phoenix explained. "This is Mia Fey, my boss. She's the actual lawyer. She's good, too. A genius. And just a good person. But anyway, she's taking on your defense. I might hang around behind the bench, but I'm not allowed to do much."

"But you said you worked for a law company! You're a liar!" Larry was crying again.

"I said I was a secretary."

"Mr. Butz. Please. Could I ask you some questions about what happened on the afternoon of Ms. Stone's murder?" Mia looked tired already. Phoenix felt a little bad about making her deal with Larry like this.

Larry, though, sobered up a little bit at Mia's words. She had that effect on people, Phoenix guessed. Her energy was just so down-to-earth that everyone around her couldn't help but stay grounded too.

"Sure. Whatever you need!"

Mia nodded. "First, about the murder weapon, the statue of The Thinker…"

Miles was going to pop a blood vessel, probably. Or have a stroke. Or some other deadly stress-related injury.

The case file on The Amazing Spider-Man was, in a word, unbalanced. While the records of their many crimes were plentiful and well-recorded, and there were so many photos that they had to be stored digitally instead of kept on paper with everything else, the most they had in terms of clues towards their identity were that they appeared to have a male build and voice, and that they tended to only appear within the city. Attempts to track them had been proven useless at best and actively misleading at worst. No cops had ever apprehended them at the scene, even though they usually stayed to watch over the thugs they'd beaten up to ensure they didn't "get away." Audio recordings of their voice did exist and were on file, but they were always quite far away, and there was no guarantee that their suit didn't contain some kind of voice changer, or that they weren't simply affecting their voice naturally.

In short, the police had a perfect criminal profile for Spider-Man, but they didn't have a single lead on their actual identity.

And Miles was supposed to assist them, somehow.

Chief Prosecutor Skye hadn't said those words exactly, but Miles knew from working under her for some time that when she wanted him to "keep an eye on" a case, it really meant babysitting the paper file and staying in contact with Detective Gumshoe. He liked Gumshoe fine, when he wasn't misplacing evidence, or overlooking evidence, or giving evidence to the defense. Unfortunately, Gumshoe was essentially always doing one of those three things, which made it very hard to work with him for long period of time. At least the detective had the good sense to know when Miles was right — that was, of course, always.

Miles had since closed the Spider-Man file and dropped it into a desk drawer. He didn't want to look at it too closely, lest his heart rate rise to dangerous levels. At the moment, he was waiting for a meeting with his mentor. It was nearly thirty minutes before he was due to arrive, but he had a habit of coming early on occasion in order to make sure that his wards were perfect always , not just when he was nearby. So Miles had spent the last hour cleaning his office until it was spotless, and all the time since then sitting with perfect posture at his desk.

As he predicted, Manfred von Karma knocked on his door exactly twelve minutes before their scheduled meeting time.

"Come in," Miles said, although he really didn't need to. Manfred had the keys to his office, and even if he didn't, Miles would never be so arrogant as to lock his office when expecting a visit from his great mentor.

"Miles Edgeworth," he greeted, standing in front of Miles' desk to force Miles to look up at him. If he were anyone else, Miles would stand so they were eye-to-eye, but he would never dare do something so disrespectful to his mentor.

"I presume Lana Skye has given you the case regarding the so-called vigilante that terrorizes this city," Manfred sneered. "I do not agree with her decision to give such a trivial case to you. You will not expend any energy on such a useless task. You will focus only on your current case, as I do. My single-minded focus is what makes me so perfect. You would do well to emulate it."

"Yes, sir," Miles nodded, voice small.

"This vigilante is pathetic, like all criminals. He is nothing but a violent thug, seeking out fights in order to feel like he is worth any more than the dirt which he likely eats instead of food." Manfred's words were directed at Spider-Man, without question, but staring at him with his face twisted into an expression of deep, well-practiced disgust, Miles couldn't help but feel like he was the one being insulted.

If anyone else were saying this, Miles would correct their language, explain that despite their name, there was no way of truly knowing if Spider-Man was male, but Manfred would hear none of it anyway, so Miles didn't bother. It would hardly be worth the pain it would cause.

"Your current case is your only priority. It must be perfect, because all von Karmas are perfect. I will accept nothing less, Miles Edgeworth."

"Yes, sir."

And with that, Manfred strode out of Miles' office, shutting the door behind him.

The tension bled out of Miles' body like someone cut his spinal cord. He slumped into his chair, suddenly exhausted to the point of tears, though he had no idea where this inexplicable fatigue had come from. The Spider-Man file burned a hole in his psyche, but he did not look at it again.

He would be a fool to disobey direct orders from Manfred von Karma.

ao3 link

[landfilloftrash]

once again; the thoughts strike, and they strike fast.

[whaliiwatching]

trans morties!

[rainbowfoxes]

So a little IDW!TMNT theory I've cooked up

Recently, one of the creators for the comic — One Ms. Sophie Campbell — stated that as of issue #112, about 5 years have passed since the series started. You can see her post here.

Now I've gone back to read the issue to confirm, and it looks like at some point in the process, "5 years" got changed to "several" as you can see on this page.

Now, it seems like at some point, "five years" was changed to "several years" (and we can tell that this was a later change due to how clunky "we're only about several years old" is as phrase. We're going to take Ms. Campbell's word, though because a) I trust her memory and authority on the subject as both the author and artist for this issue and b) it makes things much more interesting.

Here's why:

In issue #69's (nice) Ninja Notes editorial column, editor Mr. Bobby Curnow (at least, I assume it is Mr. Curnow who responded to the letters to the editor at this time. Regardless, the point stands) states that the turtles "span roughly from fifteen to nineteen," as you can see here:

Now, issue #69 came out in May of 2017. Issue #1 came out in August of 2011. Following our 2:1 ratio, that means it had been three years since the start of the series. By extrapolation, that means the boys were twelve to sixteen as of issue #1.

But wait! There's more!

Issue #1 establishes that the turtles mutated 18 months prior to the start of the series, which puts them mentally at ten-and-a-half to fourteen-and-a-half.

And now we draw it all together:

In the IDW continuity, the Turtles and their father are the reincarnations of the Hamato family, all of whom were executed by Oroku Saki several hundred years ago. If the boys were about mentally about ten to fourteen when they mutated? That means they were about ten to fourteen when this —

— Happened.

Now, all this is done without taking into account some in-universe time skips. Comic book time is very Jeremy Bearimy like that. But I think it's close enough that I can confidently say not a one of those boys was over 16 when they were murdered, and I think the younger they are the more heartbreaking everything is. They spent almost their whole lives on the run, training to get vengeance, only to die before they could even be considered adults. And then Splinter goes and sets them on the same path when they get a second chance at life...

(but that's it's own post)

[All images are described. If there is any problem with the descriptions, please let me know!]

[pinkniz]

I think a lot about how in the beta Djoser found Freddy in his younger years and how he probably saw this hyper violent kid and was like "new son spotted"

[nettlespinning]

you guys just don't know how to write angst anymore. putting people who say they like "toxic yaoi" in my dni cause they have no idea how to actually write toxicity

[beings]

mo one knows suffering like a selfshipper who has to cope when the most popular fandom ship involves your f/o and horrifically mischaracterizes them in 90% of said ship content (said content will completely flood the characters tag)

[designedparadigm]

i really do wanna like put some more limelight onto my ocs!!! i wanna be like everyone else and have that balance where people are open to my ocs or my canons! it's great and fun to write canons and all that but like where's the oc & oc love that used to be around i miss doing like... oc stuff and making all this fun original stuff with other people!

it's great i have like a couple of people too who actually do this regularly but i just! kinda wish all of us did it more. because i really! enjoy my ocs! and i think i write them well! just as well as my canons! and i'd really just like to feel like they're just as valued!!

[trans-li-ling]

Shadow Decree Chocolates*

*same disclaimer as last time not just chocolate but mostly chocolate

Anesidora* - buys herself multiple boxes of chocolates (milk, white, ruby)

Bonnie* - gets a frankly massive chocolate cake to share with Li Ao

Cecilia - buys herself designer truffles (milk, white, dark, ruby)

Jacob - not sharing but just eating melatonin gummies dipped in chocolate (milk)

Jiang Man - chocolate so bitter that it fully Hurts to eat it (dark)

Kara - chocolates infused with powerful sedatives (milk)

Leon - he makes himself and Hall glasses of chocolate milk and that's it. Actually he gives Freddy chocolate too. (Milk)

Lynn* - custom home made, like fully cacao pod to chocolate bar (milk)

Sander* - chocolate cigars (dark)

Ophelia* - chocolate shaped into origami (dark)

Tang Yun* - Chocolate pudding but for Himself Only (milk)

Xie Chuyi - gives people various qualities of chocolates and gauges how they react upon receiving them (milk, white, dark, ruby)

Xie Yuzhi - essentially the same as Li Ling's chocolate but here's the thing. He melts it down and replaced normal chocolate pieces with it. (dark)

Djoser* - listen. He gives every co worker vegetables and that is It.

[unable2sitstill]

Repostober days 21+22: Rudius

Two days worth of Rudy! He's my half-medusa PC for a monster boy magical academy campaign. He keeps most of his snakes tied back and doesn't have any petrification powers, so he's just a lil guy. He has dark teal snakes and light green skin.

I have a lot of snake themed boys and I wanted to doodle them interacting. I literally have two other ones that I've never actually shared (Zozobra and Zsohasil)

[blazeball]

these new blessings are fun i am a huge fan of them. not much more to say. i like em!

[randomnameless]

While i don’t think the world should revolve around billy i wish we got more interactions with them and the church as a family. Billy clearly cares about them and that ag dialogue gives me slight hope! Preferably with them becoming more religious like their brave alt as another f u to adrestia, even if nopes was an f u to them as a person. She even sings the song of nabateans when summoned…

Imagine an AU where Billy in AG sides with the Kingdom and Church, and wants to help Sothis find her family and befriends the nabateans - all of them - and reunites Sothis with her children (and grandkid!), feeling a bit envious because they see what this "family" thing is, and remembers they never eat together with Jerry.

Flayn then calls them wyvern poop, if they want to be part of the family, as Billy and not as Sothis, they can just ask for it, after all their family is very large and encompasses a lot of people, look at cousin Cyril! Besides, they are already part of it, they didn't realise it yet?

Rhea comes in and sheds some light about how they came to exist - the SS infodump happens but instead of spiraling in a self-depreciation loop - Rhea tells them she's glad they're finally reunited, and they can stay with them as long as they want.

Then drama ensues because Billy believes they killed Citrus - if they never existed then she'd still be alive, is it why Jerry never treats them as "family" like those people are? - and Rhea corrects them, Billy didn't kill Citrus, Citrus picked their life over hers, it was her choice and thinking as Billy does denies her agency - no matter what happened with Jerry, Billy being alive means Citrus existed and loved them more than her very own life.

Billy cries and when the Monastery is recaptured, they often go to her tomb to drop flowers on them and ultimately becomes the next Archbishop - to help people - under Rhea's guidance (and Worst Mom's nagging).