#just one more sleep and then i can say

[transgender-catboy]

it's like a fucked up Christmas Eve for me rn

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

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[egophiliac]

@enderfore replied to your post “What do you think of Rook's savanaclaw card? <333”:

Chenya pic where???? I can barely see anything in that room there so much going on, rooks such a lil freak (affectionatr)

​he's under the row of flags on Neige's side of the room, next to the big Neige poster with the yellow background (look just to the right of the hand holding the apple)! he's REAL little; once you know he's there you can kind of see him in-game, but I only noticed him in the first place because I took a screenshot and was having fun zooming in on all the details!

I think that's either Hop or Snick and Dominic on either side of Neige, but if the others are meant to be anyone in particular I don't recognize 'em. though I do love all the absolutely terrifying implications of Rook having this. was this some kind of officially-published merchandise (and if so, why) or did Rook like...go hunting through the RSA trash to find this random student lineup just because it included Neige, and has had it hanging proudly on the wall ever since. (I mean, he definitely did do this, I don't know why I'm asking. the real question is why he hasn't cut out little pictures of his own face and stuck them over everyone else's yet.)

there is seriously SO MUCH in this room. how did Rook manage to keep this hidden for three years. also, somebody give this background artist a raise immediately.

[justaz]

merlin (immortal) giving arthur (pendragon) the only blade that could kill him

[heartorbit]

i'm sending this endless melody to a nameless you

[worstloki]

AU where Loki doesn’t interfere with Thor’s banishment at all and it takes Thor years to prove himself worthy and when he returns to Asgard everything is just. The same. Nothing seems to have changed at all and everyone greets him like his absence was a minor obstacle that didn’t fundamentally change Thor and the worst part is Loki stepped down from the place as regent without any delay and Thor can’t help but feel there’s something underlaying the way his brother looks at him now and won’t let him touch him and Thor doesn’t know what he could have missed because he doesn’t think he would have found anything wrong with the things around him and how everyone behaves if he hadn’t spent time on Earth reflecting.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Riz has counted four casseroles this week alone. Five, if one goes by the method of cooking, but Yelen's scary when she's crossed, and calling her burek by its proper name is important to her, so Riz does her the courtesy and doesn't include it in his mental tally.

He holds the tupperware over his head to keep it out if the way as he takes careful steps over the piles of notes in his path. The dockman case just closed, relevant documentations handed over to relevant personnels, evidences dealt with as needed; all he has lying around now is just record of the process and traces of himself thinking through it. Unsurprisingly they still haven't invented a surface more convenient for people under five feet who like to pace to put pieces of paper on than the ground.

Actual records go into the case folder with the other documents. Anything else with at least one side still blank is going to the school kids in the block - they chew through an astounding amount of paper just learning arithmetic. The rest is for the recycling basket.

Later. It's his mandated lunch break right now.

Riz sits down in front of the corner file cabinet. In an office often overrun with papers and strings and sometimes even thumbtacks, he's never really managed to clutter up this exact square of surface like every other ones. Ever since the bottom drawer rattled for no discernible reason a day long past, his eyes have always just kinda decided to slide across the space without acknowledging it.

It's years out, now. Riz doesn't know why he thought it such a big deal anymore, back then. He wasn't scared, he doesn't think. Not anymore. Maybe just uncomfortable with the idea that certain things persist despite all efforts to change.

He opens the tupperware. Dame Carabelle's experiment greets him with enough spice in the aroma alone to knock out a small mammal. When he chopped the vegetables for this casserole he couldn't really imagine the eventual heft of it, evident even through just these few ladles' worth, maybe weighing heavier for being still warm. His folk eat more through the smell and the textures and the aftertastes than the taste itself. His folk's meal is really the cooking rather than the eating. The eating is the meal's end.

"Hey," he tells the file cabinet's bottom drawer. "Um."

It's the anniversary. Riz doesn't know the exact date of his dad's death; nobody currently alive does. He and Mom both use the date of the funeral, though as he moved out to Bastion and then got more directly involved with Interplanar he hasn't really been going to Dad's grave as much. Doesn't seem like very efficient use of his time, catching a train or borrowing a car or spending a whole spell slot on going somewhere he knows Dad isn't at. They're sorta coworkers now. They talk on and off every other week between missions. When he goes now, it's just to clean up the place, keeping the landmark tidy and respectable.

Without that work to mark the date he doesn't really know what it serves anymore. But he still remembers it. Still takes note, absently or not, when it comes around.

There's not really a good way to tell the drawer that. Riz looks for another way to start the... conversation, hopefully. The question at play, he'd guess, is why he's doing this. He's been pretty content ignoring all the rattlings and the knocks from inside and the times it sits slightly ajar without him ever opening it himself; hell, he still uses the three drawers on top of it. Space is fucking precious in Bastion.

Precious enough to finally fix this damn drawer so he gets his turn to use it? Riz asks himself. Is that what we're getting to? Then he dismisses the thought - he didn't manage to fix it the times he actually tried, let alone-- now. When he doesn't really care that much to.

That's probably a good place to start. "'s fine if you keep being in there, turns out," Riz says.

The lunch hours are quiet in the block, sleepy and bright with the brief window of sunlight that manages to break through roof overhangs and extended balconies and laundry lines and climbing vines. Riz's work isn't loud here (the loud parts happen away from his office, if everything goes right), but the fragment of early summer heat reflected in the steady warmth his meal still carries compels him to lower his voice even more. It makes the words feel intimate, in a way he's never been familiar with - if he says something he just says it. He doesn't whisper. If he gives his friends something, he gives it open-palm. He's found out, along the way, that people usually don't think of rituals and courtesies the way he does.

Small voice for a diminished monster. "You know why I think so?" Riz asks. "Because almost two decades ago you kidnapped me and almost killed me, and now you rattle a drawer in my office."

It doesn't sound as much like a taunt as Riz wanted it to; the drawer has made a lot of noises again this morning when he checked the calendar, and he was definitely annoyed at it. Now, though, facing it like this after cooking the whole morning with more grandparents and peers from the block than he can count on both hands to cater for a tenant union meeting, he thinks the annoyance has morphed. Changed shape.

It has the shades of something like pity. Riz is not prone to pity, and especially not at these kinda matters. It's slightly maddening that he coheres perfectly outside of this one spot. That he commands his spaces, except for a drawer.

He puts the tupperware onto the floor between himself and the cabinet. "I know we're aware it's the anniversary," he says at the drawer. "You do this every year. You make a ruckus every time I decide to go do my job instead of mooching off my friends' aircon, and every time I get an invitation to some stupid social thing I want to turn down, and every time one of the old people tries to introduce me to a child or a nibling, because being a bachelor over thirty is weird," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have three fucking jobs. I love doing my fucking jobs. I'm forcing funds into infrastructures. You're never leaving, are you."

The drawer vibrates lightly. It's a very, very mild acknowledgement, considering the history of reactions Riz has gotten from this thing. Riz thinks it's emanating joyous agreement, or satisfaction.

It only sharpens the pity. Riz doesn't like that, but it's how it is. That's, ultimately, the lesson he's been taught over and over and over again, just by existing as himself, turned every which way by space after space that don't see him eye-to-eye: it's not like he'd quit living over any of it. It's not like any of it can sand off these fundamental pieces of him.

He's outgrown a lot of things, he's found out. Again, and again, and again. A childhood home, a yearly trip, a monster.

"'s probably scary for you, huh?" He asks. "Because I left."

He thinks he hears joints creak that sound like you did. Probably the way a scorned lover would say it, in a movie or a yellowback. He has no more connection to the idea than he did as a kid. Less, because it doesn't even scare him.

"That's what it is, right? That it's the anniversary, and I'll never be like Dad." He raises a knee from the floor, pulls it back closer to him. Slings an arm over it. "You love to remind me. The thing is, Dad also left. He loved Mom and he loved me, and none of us wanted it to happen, but it still did. Because love does fuckall to make anyone stay on its own."

He's long past being bitter about it. It's just the facts. Once upon a time he looked into the future and the specter of his friends' happily-ever-after casted lightless, fathomless shadow over him. Love, marriage, that kind of devotion, to a fifteen-year-old with more solved cases than friends seemed so eternal. Final.

But you can only watch your friends build up apps' worth of jilted lovers for so long before getting over it.

"You know what I learned?" Riz tells the drawer. "Love doesn't make anyone stay. Project management does."

He stands up, and picks up the tupperware of Dame Carabelle's casserole, that he helped make, that he helped share with a block's worth of neighbors and members of a community he's at home with, and goes sit at his desk to eat. "Last chance to get any," he drops an offer over his shoulder as he walks away.

He doesn't eat all of his share in one go. What he's spared he leaves on the desk when going outside for a smoke break. Baron looks the exact same as when he saw them last, when he catches a glimpse; they haven't grown at all. They aren't there when he comes back inside, but the leftover has gone days-old cold, like someone's sucked the future out of it.

[turtleblogatlast]

I still think about how Leo’s ideal day out for the fam’s venture into the Hidden City was basically just an effort to get some rest and relaxation because boy does he never get that ever.

[kami-kun1003]

TWST fic writers stop reducing Silver’s entire personality to just “sleepy boy who falls asleep all the time and is sooooo sleepy and tired and did i mention he sleeps a lot and also he loves his dad” challenge (impossible) (gone wrong)

[sleepyflowershead]

forever sleep. rest well

will awoken if call…

but for now..

dream, my lil cookie…

like you were never existed.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[tumblingxelian]

Fox Miraculous - Reimagined:

This is inspired by the fact its "illusions" cannot be seen by cameras. Rather than this being a weakness, its a reflection of the fact most users do not understand the fox.

Name: Trixx Animal: Vulpes Era: Caveasphaera Domain: Mirage and Manifestation Kindred: Horse (Action & Migration) & Butterfly (Transmission & transformation)

Mirage: The Fox is often mistaken for creating illusions, but this is not so, in truth it creates what can be described as hallucinations within a certain range, altering the perspective of those within it to match the imagined perceptions of the user.

Manifestation: The power to manifest one's innermost thoughts, an image, ideas, or more via the Fox can also be applied on others. Just as the Turtles Shield can encase the user or a foe, so two an the Fox manifest a mirage based on the perceptions of someone other than the Holder.

Some Mages Thousands of Years ago: ... and this one lets the handler place hallucinations in someone else's mind, or even externalize their targets thoughts, manifesting them as a sort of shared mirage. Useful for trickery and interrogation.

Trixx, who just got here: Yeah that sounds about right.

(Maybe) Lila/Alya thousands of years later: So what you’re saying is I can use this to make people see the world as I do. That I am essentially eroding the barrier between my perception of the world and theirs, imposing my thoughts, feelings and visions upon the target. Which could allow me to steadily warp and erode their sense of self and view of the world until its either the same as mine, or simply whatever I sculpted them into. Essentially allowing me to steadily overwrite an entire personality and perception of reality? With all it costs me being the risk of my own slower erosion of self as all those around me join together in a panopticon like hivemind?

Trixx & Some Mages Thousands of Years ago:

Note: One can try and reshape people over time, but one cannot always predict the results. So it could go really, really badly.

[egophiliac]

SO I DIDN'T KNOW WHO ELSE TO ASK, but you seem like an expert on lore so I just had to know, is the headcanon of "long haired, super tall, past Lilia" actually accurate?? I know he was definitely a war general back then, but I can't seem to remember if he was actually as tall as Malleus with super long hair before as well. Would you perhaps know if this is a fanon or canon concept?

I am nowhere near an expert on lore, so if I'm wrong, then hopefully someone will be able to tell us both! I'm pretty sure though that both of those are 100% fanon -- I think drawing him with long hair is mostly a quick visual shorthand for Ye Olde Past Lilia vs modern cut-his-hair-in-the-dark Lilia (and/or the artist just felt like it and honestly more power to them). that, and it's occasionally implied that he was a lot more serious back in the day, so it makes sense that he'd have a less...artistically creative hairstyle. fingers crossed we get some answers in episode 7, even if just in silhouette 👀

this is the first time I've heard of a tall Lilia theory though! he does talk about using being short to his advantage during fighting, so I think that one is pretty unlikely. ...plus I really love the idea that he was so absolutely terrifying as a soldier that people were shitting themselves at the sight of this skinny little 5'2" goblin with the build of an uncooked spaghetti noodle. he doesn't need a height advantage to do terrible things to your internal organs! ✨👍✨

(and anyway, if he did want to be taller than Malleus, he's not above cheating)

[thegreatyin]

and with that, evolution is complete.

i do think the scoundrel made the right choice, in the end. maybe- potentially- they think so too.

[wholesalesoftie]

good hustle, kids - bears in trees