#like not even the games are cannon

[mossygrove6949]

i dont know if tumblr is gonna like smite me for posting more than once tonight but OH WELL fnaf really feels like each media its turned into (books, games, the movie, fanstuffs) is just fanfiction of the same cannon. but no one knows what the cannon is so we're all just playing fucked up telephone.

[robindaydream]

Pyromancers

[hancocksleftnut]

Some Charon Head Cannons I Finally have the Balls to Share:

He was a US Green Beret captured in Anchorage by Chinese and Russian Special Forces in 2076, 11 months before the Great War and had many experiments done on him while a POW.

He was deployed at 28, one of the youngest in his squad. Charon was born in Pennsylvania and came from a military background, later joining the US Army at 19, soon after the USA announced war against the Republic of China.

In the end, he would be the only survivor from his squad, all others having been executed or dying from the Dachau-Level experiments.

As tensions around the world heightened, the US government burned all records of him and his squadron, considering them casualties of war.

As a POW (Prisoner of War) his physical stature, mental fortitude, and expert combat training made him a candidate for a “Reprograming Operation” by the Russian KGB where he was the only successful test subject.

After months of brainwashing he was finally assigned to a KGB Spy who was planted in the US government, where he was designed to assassinate and perform other reconnaissance operations.

However, the Great War broke out mere months after he was “assigned” and his contract made many unfortunate passes before reaching the Lone Wanderers.

Charon’s previous employers all had dark, ulterior motives that mainly used him as a deviant errand boy. When he becomes employed by the LW, he almost feels at peace. Though he will forever live with PTSD, he is able to put his guard down in certain circumstances, giving him small glimpses of joy and happiness again.

Until he becomes to care too much, and becomes over protective. The LW unknowingly reminds him of his pre-war life. When there was still hope and a dream of change. He doesn’t know why, but he clings to their selflessness. He watches people abuse the LW’s kindness, and then get stuck in a cycle of people pleasing because they are the Wastelands Last Hope.

[bakersfield-row]

Finished playing in stars and time

[the-inheritance-games]

POTENTIAL LYRA FANCAST (unofficially)

Ok so I was watching some edits as I do, and all of a sudden I was like “wow she’s really beautiful” “she’s mommy” and then I was like “…. 😨….SHES MOMMY…..SHE COULD BE LYRA!!!”

And ever since I REALLY can’t unsee it, which kinda sucks bc as I’ve stated before I don’t want to set my mind on ANYONE as Lyra until after we get a full description BUT i just REALLY CANT UNSEE IT….

I was talking to @never-enough-novels but she hasn’t responded yet (sorry to shout you out like this lol 😭) and I also don’t think I can keep this to myself so…

This is your ⚠️WARNING⚠️ if you don’t want your perception to be altered and potentially be disappointed if I’m WAYYYY off on this then scroll away

Also if I’m wrong and you are disappointed (which even if I’m wrong I doubt we will be disappointed bc she’s for sure going to be GORGEOUS) you can always blame me for feeding you this idea in the first place, ok. Now without further adieu

I PRESENT MY NON OFFICIAL POTENTIALLY WAY WRONG FANCAST FOR LYRA KANE 🥁🥁🥁🥁

DANIELLE ROSE RUSSELL AKA HOPE MIKAELSON

I know we said no redheads but she’s not ALWAYS a red head 😭

Just tell me that ISNT the SAME STANCE

Also they are both (hopefully potentially) friends with a set of blonde and brunette faternal twins 😭

Idk in my mind it’s just PERFECT I honestly kinda hate myself for even thinking about it bc if I’m totally wrong I might just be a little bit heartbroken because im a huge tvd/to fan (mostly to) and I LOVE Hope Andrea Mikaelson and Danielle rose Russell and like I can clearly picture her being the one to call Grayson demanding answers and calling him an asshole, as well as trauma dumping and also I just see HER being grays endgame too, like I'd even say that I WOULD also describe Danielle as having a voice like honey that's also a bit seductive and husky 😭

Like you don’t understand this potential fan cast is already KILLING ME and I’m sorry if it’s also killing you, so yeah there's that

Let me know what y'all think and again

I'm sorry 😭

[alltimefail-sims]

How tall are your sims?

@mangosimoothie thank you for tagging me!! I admit that I spent waaaaay too long on this website choosing avatars that accurately represented them. 😂

Idk who's been tagged and who hasn't so if I double tag you or you already did this, I apologize! (Also if you don't want to do this you can ignore of course.)

I'll tag @thebramblewood, @softpine, @heavenwhims, @wrixie, @aorticsims, @simsinfinitylt, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants

[greyspirehollow]

Chains

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x Liam (mc oc) ; platonic Fandom : The Arcana visual novel Warnings : angst ; hurt/comfort (still not good at warning tags grgrg)

Summary : Reverse ending ; Thinking they have betrayed him by aiding Liam becoming the new Patron Arcana of Death, the Devil punishes Valdemar (nothing related to assault, don't worry). But this cruel treatment will not go unnoticed...

The room was dark. The only source of light was the faint red glow of the chains that bound the Quaestor kneeling to the floor. The air was filled with the scent of burnt papers and parchments. They could still feel the trace of the quiet tears they'd shed when the Devil left, despite keeping their face as expressionless as possible. They were pretty sure they had bruises, and the tip of their right horn threatened to fall off at any moment because of how they'd struggled against their binds. They knew their labcoat was scratched, and that their bandages were loose. They could feel strands of hair tickle the skin of their cheeks. This... was simply cruel. Unjustified. After their centuries, their millenias of loyal services, how could the Devil possibly treat them like this?? They hadn't crossed any lines, not in the terms of their deal at least... So why? Their gaze remained on the floor as they let their thoughts consume them. What else could they possibly be doing? Struggle against the chains some more? To what end? They wouldn't yield.

But their train of thoughts was interrupted by the distant muffle of voices...

______________________________________________________________

In the corridors, some of Death's troupes looked around the rooms, opening every door they could, seemingly searching for something. Or someone. The skeletons were quick and efficient as Death advanced slowly, surveilling the operation. His cape flowed softly with each step he took. The skeletal soldier's search was fruitless so far, but it was also interrupted by a red figure down the hall. "...Vulgora." Death muttered, similarly to a greeting. Probably posted there to guard the halls, the Pontifex yielded a double bit great axe. But their expression lacked the usual bloodthirst and thrill of battle. As if... They didn't want to fight. Death was skeptical ; they'd always loved fighting. But he didn't have time to reflect upon that much : they charged at his soldiers, determined, and made the bones cackle and fall to the ground each time they'd seem them rebuild themselves. Death marched towards them, and drew their sword. He did well, because the Pontifex charged at him next. He blocked their attack, momentarily face to face with them. "They're on the second floor" if it could've conveyed confusion, Death's skeletal face would've upon hearing Vulgora's words. "The last door to the left." They sounded... worried. Death nodded and pushed them off, letting them pretend to fight off part of his troupes and taking only three soldiers with him as they rushed upstairs. He heard the Pontifex pretend to chase after them, and give up once he was halfway up the stairs. He climbed the marches one after the other.

______________________________________________________________

The sounds and muffled voices grew closer. Valdemar couldn't make out the words being said -what was the point, anyway?- but could only distinguish the clinking of metal on the floor. The steps grew closer.

"General ! They're in here !"

what...?

The door was pound against, exactly five times, before it fell off its hinges, hitting the floor with a loud thud and blowing an air current that made them squint their eyes, in addition to the sudden pool of light red light pouring from outside the dark room. They caught the glimpse of four silhouettes, three human sized ones and another, more imposing, standing in the center. The three smaller frames returned into the corridor, and seemed to go keep an eye on the surrounding area, the light they basked in revealing skeletons in armor. The Quaestor's gaze then landed on the fourth shadow : it slowly started approaching. On the floor, it noticed the carcasses of journals, books, files and parchments. And a copious amount of them, too... Two little green lights served as eyes to them, and Vlademar recognized those. Their teeth greeted together, but they couldn't find anything to tell him. Liam. The reason they were in this mess in the first place... That foolish necromancer, taking the place of the thirteenth major Arcana... They briefly looked back at the ground, but their head instantly snapped back up as they saw him crouch down beside a burnt book, about to touch the crispy pitch black pages. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF THAT!!" They shouted, instinctively getting up on their feet, only to be dragged back down by the red chains, drawing a pained grunt out of them. Their shoulders hunched slightly. Liam's hand immobilized in the air and he looked at them. They briefly wished they could still read his expression in this moment... "...Your research." he simply commented. They knew he was right. He got up, and slowly walked towards them. Their gaze was suddenly drawn to his sword, as it morphed into a scythe in his hand. They looked up right at those greenish lights he had for eyes now, their gaze unwavering. Death towered over them... They looked at him grip the weapon with both hands and raise it above his skull. He was going to do it, wasn't he? They weren't even mad. They found themselves... Strangely determined. Fine. After all, maybe it was the greatest service he could make them in th-

SHCLANK.

THUD.

....

....

..

The chains...

He'd aimed for the chains. Eyes wide, they looked at one of the metallic binds that was snapped in two by the scythe, and had fallen to the ground. Liam then snapped the other one.

SHCLANK.

THUD.

They felt the remaining ones around their body loosen, setting their upper body free. They looked at their shaky hands, and then back up at Liam.. Confused. He'd crouched down to their level. Despite the lack of... basically anything that could convey emotions on his face, they felt no ill will or threatening aura coming from him. As if... He wanted... to help...

"Do you think you can walk?"

The lich's raspy and otherworldly voice asked. "How can I possibly trust you?" was their immediate response, which they briefly regretted. Liam didn't seem fazed however. Even... Understanding. He removed the glove of his right hand, exposing his bones to the dark room's air, and reached for one of the burnt books that laid at their feet. They were about to protest again, gripping his wrist to yank it away from the fragile paper, but as soon as one of his bony digits made contact with it, it's as if the book was reborn. The pages found their normal consistency, and their handwriting appeared through the book again. Their jaw hung slack in a mix of confusion and bewilderment. "I thought... Y-you said it didn't work with..." they looked back at his orbits, inhabited by those two green lights, their gaze unable to hide their emotion. "This is... One of Death's tricks. A very brief reversal of time. It only works on objects..." He replied, as he got up and removed his other glove, going around and picking one by one the journals, the files and parchments, each seemingly coming back to life as he touched them. Valdemar was stuck in shock, still on their knees on the floor, the overwhelming amount of emotions swarming them without a single warning. He... He had to have ulterior motives. It couldn't be out of... kindness. Their brows furrowed "What do you want?? wh-why are you doing this?!" as they got back up on their feet, their hands slightly shaky. Liam looked back at them "...Do I need a reason to help a friend?"

...

Friend...? "You mean... Fiend." "I mean... Friend." Shock appeared on their features once more. Death took a slight breath and spoke up again : "But if it is easier for you, consider this a thank you for helping me get where I am now. A... Payback, if you will." he paused, turning around to face them "But the truth is, I only wish to help." The Quaestor stood there, dumbfounded, their brows knitted together due to... Whatever emotion they were currently feeling. They observed as Liam went around the room, picking up each and every single document that the Devil had previously burnt right before their eyes. They watched as he carefully arranged it all in a pile, then a mount as more and more documents were added. They took a few steps forward, their shaky hand reaching for one of the journals, flipping through the pages, then reaching for another one, and another, and another... Tears welled up in their eyes as they held at least a dozen against their chest, crumbling back to their knees and hunching protectively over them, as if they'd vanish if they let go. Their researches... Their life's work, their reason to live... Nearly wiped out like a speck of dust. They couldn't help the tears. Yes, they could muffle their sobs, and yes, they could hide their face against the pile of journals, but they couldn't stop the subtle shaking of their shoulders... Nor the bony hand that gently settled on their back and started caressing it soothingly, Liam crouching beside them.

______________________________________________________________

After a while of such deep and sudden emotions, Death stood back up, ordering his three soldiers to fetch the others, so all of them could carry the mount of documents out of this place. Valdemar took with them as much as they could, their legs slightly wobbly from the whole ordeal, as they, Death, and the soldiers hurried downstairs. They left the damned halls of the Devil's palace, and at the entrance, the Quaestor's eyes widened as they laid upon a familiar centaur-like figure. The horse skull turned to look at them "well, would you look at that! Quaestor Valdemar, in the flesh. It's been a while" Death. Their throat tightened and they looked at the ground in shame. This... All of this was starting to become a little too much. "Cut them some slack" Liam spoke softly, patting Death's flank. "I'm going to need you to carry them home. The Devil's not been kind with them..." Death nodded, although slightly bitter, lowering themselves so Valdemar could mount them, while the lich walked on foot. The Quaestor desperately clung to the journals in their arms, and as the gentle rocking motion of Death's pace nudged them, they felt exhaustion start to close onto them, despite their best attempt to keep their eyes open and surveil the soldiers which carried the rest of their researches.

______________________________________________________________

They woke up in what looked like a cottage, resting on a couch, with a thick blanket over them and a plush pillow under their head. They blinked awake, looking around, noticing Liam sitting at a table. The lich was studying what looked like maps ; there was a warm fire going in the fireplace. Their eyes lingered on the flames for a while before returning to Liam. They observed his skeletal hands carefully holding the paper, before their red eyes looked out the window, into the snowy forest around. The sight felt much less dreadful than they remember. The soft creaking of Liam's chair drew their attention. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?" It was... paradoxal to have Death sound so soothing... Or maybe it wasn't. "...Better." Warm. "That is great to hear." he put the map down on the wooden table, getting up to reach for a set of keys and picked two from it. He then walked over to Valdemar and gently placed the keys in their hand. "It's to access a small shed I have built nearby. I've made it so your research could be stored there, in Death's realm." yet another emotional blow for Valdemar. But of gratitude, this time. They closed their eyes and let out a soft sigh to keep their composure. "...Thank you." Liam nodded. "It's my pleasure." He was about to return to his table when Valdemar gripped his sleeve. He turned around. They'd stood up ; they seemed to be contemplating something. Their eyes briefly scanned Liam up and down, before they gulped and extended their arms, before wrapping them around him, in a clumsy hug. A warm feeling spread in the lich's chest as he embraced their smaller frame back.

Valdemar could've never guessed Death's embrace could ever be this soft and welcoming.

[trashcreatyre]

She’s my oc now, sorry i don’t make the rules :/

Some of y’all don’t deserve her tbh

[positivityjediprince]

No one:

Literally no one:

Lily's Garden: In the garden there is a secret underground temple made by an old secret group who fought corruption (but now are a chess society), two of Lily's friends accidentally got stuck in the temple, the cat (who may or may not be a reincarnation of the great grandmother) showed Lily how to rescue them.

They have now deliberately trapped a potential secret agent down there to find out why he's been spying on them.

[capcavan]

About Riko 1/?

My idea of Riko is of an absolutely insufferable person, but person everyone tolerates because his ways bring home results. Not talking about the behind scenes terror he exposed foxes to. That's dirty play, and I usually write it off as something master Tetsuji was behind. Riko just used them as manipulation tactic (which backfires as instead of frightening foxes, he pissed them off and motivated them to work harder). Ravens are trained to be pinnacle of excellence when it comes to their physical abilities. After all, they are worth little to nothing outside of court. But to be good player you need to be able to strategize on the fly and synergize with your team and that's not something charts before game can always prepare you for. That's what Riko excels at, quick decision making and risky play. The ravens are groomed to support this play style. Their only job is to read Riko and adjust their game to match him (this is why the board was concerned about the play style holding Kevin Day back). Current team for ravens is undefeated because everyone on the team trusts Riko's judgment. As fucked up as the little fucker is, he knows the game. He has intuition few can rival with. He does not fuck around, does not allow people to feel more important than they are when their game is shit. That's why raven team consists of numbers from 1 to 4 then 10 and up. The fodder is in constant competition between each other to earn that single digit. They know Riko is crazy. They know a person should not function like this but they also know that his way bring results. They follow him off field with the same trust they follow him on field because for ravens there is no difference between the two. They need Riko, who gave his life away to the game (a choice master made for him) to carry them to better future. But then Riko's only reason to play is gone. His father passed, never acknowledging him as a human being. And the game does not matter so much any more. TLDR ravens know Riko is fucking insane but they respect it because they need him that way.

[unnamed-proxy]

I love kidscove so much I just wish it wasn’t popularized by TSAMS where it’s the most boring and forced version of their dynamic ever conceived

[the-bug-witch]

god someone help me Im so normal about this

so i was trying to find a notebook and pen that look like Kim's and i didnt find a good match for the notebook but

there is a pen that looks exactly like the pen you can barrow from him

its the bullet style fisher space ballpoint pen, it can write in space, upside down, extreme temps, wet or greasy paper, its exactly the kind of pen Kim would buy

and it is 30 dollars

no wonder he loans it to Harry with "great resentment"

[skeletalheartattack]

Favourite personal weapon?

(you CANNOT say battleaxe!)

probably scythe. like i know it's not really good at all for like. combat. but like look at that shit. pretty dope blade while i hold the stick. sooo cool.

[kyloreno-911]

I made chocolate truffles coated in toasted coconut for my nerd to take to his nerd game. Last week it was orange cream crinkle cookies. I am turning into martha stewart help me.

[angrybatgaming]

I JUST WANTED A SELFIE, GUYS.

The selfie

The result

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

how would witch eclipse react to someone (coughcough me coughcoug h) teasing him with suggestive jokes just for shits and giggles (not in a shippy romantic way) :3

welllll...he's been living in complete isolation for basically the entirety of his life (aside from his childhood with KC but that hardly counts cuz the guy never puts a word into a conversation), so he has no idea how to react to something like that, he probably doesn't even know what whatever you said means.

He'll take a good 20 seconds to try to glean and understanding of whatever you said and if he actually catches the meaning his optics'll go really wide. He's not used to affection being offered, it's too much for him to handle. After another 30 seconds attempting to recover his dignity and hide the sound of a plane taking off (his fans aren't used to being overworked ahaha), he'll probably throw some weak insult at you in hopes that you'll be too defensive to keep pestering him with feelings. He hardly ever analyzes his emotions, you think this guy can understand a tease?

If you really wanna get to him, tho, try just giving him a genuine compliment: teasing him wields less of a result compared to outright telling him something nice about himself. If you tell him that you like how passionate he is about his research or something, or that you like the way he speaks, or that you like spending time with him? He'll either freeze and try to keep his insides from spontaneously combusting or just leave the situation entirely, rushing out of the room with some half-baked excuse or insult and talk about 'returning to his work'.

...he's going to get absolutely nothing done for the next 3 hours.