#love getting pinged

[spaciebabie]

i love receiving dms on discord it makes me go from :| (neutral) ta :D (filled w/joy and whimsy)

[nocek]

Is it a stupid idea? Yes. Did I have to go overboard and animate it? No.

But I had to and I'm not sorry ;P

[maybe-arts]

IT'S DONE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY!!!

If you've been following me the last month, you've seen me posting invitations to join Kirby Birthday Collab. Well, as today is 27th, I'm proud to present the result of this collab!!

This collab ended up even bigger than the last year's one. When last year we mainly had only Dream Friends (with some special guests like Morpho, Galacta and Elfilin), this year we've got characters from many more groups, including villains! We've almost left no one behind lol

The image above might be a bit scuffed (anti-AI protection, and all that), but no worries! You can click on it to see full, uncompressed image and see everyone's work that's been put into this!

A HUGE thank you to everyone who participated, and to everyone who wanted but either learned about it too late or didn't manage - don't worry! Looks like this thing might be annual from now on (or until i run out of steam lmao), so you'll get plenty of chances to join next year! Just keep your eyes peeled around March-April :3

And now, everyone who participated in this collab:

@squeak-art - Daroach, Dark Nebula and Squeakers + two bonus polaroids (the one with Nebula and the one with Squeak Squad) @sacrificecage - Hyness and Shadow Kirby @aseuki - Sectonia (absolute madlad) @giantchasm - Elfilin, Fecto Forgo + possessed Awoofy and Rick @taranzas-biggest-fan - Taranza and President Haltmann + bonus polaroid with Wave 3 trio and Kirby @sourghostsoda - Dark Meta Knight and Galacta Knight @spidersandtomatos - Zan Partizanne + bonus polaroid with their OC and Zan @kachikirby - Samus Aran and Francisca + bonus polaroid with Samus @eleart - Meta Knight @azumetapraline - Magolor @tinybandee - Sailor Dee and UFO @a-stardusted-sky - Landia @mementomarx - Morpho Knight @xxmooncheetosxx - Ribbon @rosakikoza - DMS and Zero @hascaple - Chuchu @deafeninggardenerpanda - Void and Arthur (also special thanks for allowing me to organize it on his server that i've been advertising all this month lol) @pixbit - Prince Fluff @eryth-arts - Susie and Flamberge @deefighter2739 - Bandee @skitty-kirby - Sword and Blade Knights @hoshi-no-mahoroa - Coo @diroxide - Fecto Elfilis @starrveria - Tiff @nausylemmyj - Adeline @thecreatorlynne (on Instagram) - Miracle Matter + bonus polaroid with all the Matters @thundermarisol - Pitch, Pick, Mine, Shiro, Nyupun and Pitch Mama @michirikapchiyyy - Falspar and Dragato @galapathy - Nonsurat and Nightmare @wybienova - Clawroline + bonus polaroid with Clawroline @mistilteinn-magolor - Gooey @superskullz64 - Spinni, Doc and Storo @starrysorry - Tuff, Fololo and Falala @tazmilygray - Elline and Keeby @icy-dark-star - Leongar @yokyoaaa - Nago and the Meta-Knights (Axe, Trident, Mace and Javelin Knights) @itsquakey/@chickenhoops - Marx @chibihuey - Drawcia, Claycia and Kine (and colored Nightmare) + bonus polaroid with four Kirbies

and yours truly was the one who combined all of this in a single piece + drew Dedede and main birthday boy himself, Kirby!

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you. 

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…” 

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released. 

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

[amarald-hyv]

Astral Express GC part 2: Eggs

Stelle is at it again. She is the only one brave enough to stand up and talk about such serious matters 😔

Quick summary under the cut

Stelle: Hey Dan Heng

Dan Heng: is it important?

March: it’s Stelle do u really trust her to know what’s important

Stelle: Dan heng is eating by eggs cannibalism for you?

Dan Heng: Can we take away her phone privileges?

Stelle: your days are numbered Danny boi

Dan Heng: ???

Welt: why is there a hole in the train

Stelle on Dan Heng’s phone: hehe

[scarefox]

[raiiny-bay]

squeezing both of them

[heyclickadee]

I still think it’s interesting that Tech seems to agree with Echo that they should be doing more. To some extent, anyway. He’s pragmatic when it comes to making sure the batch has the basics taken care of (like the times he points out that maybe they can’t help on a certain mission because then they can’t do a job and they won’t get paid, which is bad, because they’re broke and still need to eat), but he’s not actually opposed to being more involved.

It’s in little things. They way that Tech is the one besides Echo who voices his moral concerns about the empire right off the bat, that Echo and Tech are the two who have similar (but differently expressed) reactions to the formation of the empire; the look on Tech’s face when Rafa and Trace point out that the batch is trying to get sensitive data without knowing who the buyer is, while they’re trying to get it to someone who’s trying to help; the little knowing look and nod Echo and Tech share before Echo goes to talk to Hunter about how much good they could do using the money they might get from the Serreno heist to fight the Empire. He knows what Echo’s going to try to convince Hunter to do. Even during the argument he has with Echo in “Ruins of War” his position isn’t, “Well, we shouldn’t be helping so it doesn’t matter,” it’s, “Technically we never had the treasure we wanted to use to fight the empire, so we didn’t really lose it—at least we’re not worse off than we started.”

The main difference between them are that Echo has this incredible, undeniable drive to help as many clones as he can, for a lot of reasons, but at least partly because he’s feels a kinship with them that Tech hasn’t quite had the chance to develop (he doesn’t have the same chip on his shoulder as Crosshair starts out with, but there is still a separation there) and has a bit of survivor’s guilt due to what he was used to do on Skako Minor that Tech doesn’t have, because he didn’t go through the same thing; while Tech’s first priority is the batch. He’s often if not always the one getting them out of impossible situations, and I think he knows that. Echo has to help Rex, even if it means leaving his new family for a while; Tech maybe wants to help, but he can’t leave his family while they need him around.

(In fact—sidebar, I could actually see these two having a conversation about both of them going to help Rex at the same time and it going like, “You should come, Tech, they could use your skills,” and Tech going, “And leave Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega on their own? Have you seen them?” and coming to the conclusion that, no, they can’t both leave.)

Anyway I’m not going anywhere with this and it’s really rambly; I just think Echo and Tech are neat and that the only way you could get Tech to go help elsewhere for a bit is if he saw them safe, settled, and being able to get by without him there all the time.

[jaiette]

harriene and marreu ❄️🔥

@peachykeencat

[hawkwidows]

you can pry will being the leia of the willelmike trio out of my cold dead hands it's everything to me

[feline-evil]

Hiding my shirt that says 'i am not normal about narratives that imply an inanimate inhabited structure is a living breathing organism' as i walk into a board room and pitch my idea that we should make more horror revolving around living architecture

[charmedcleric]

Live footage of my mutuals and I booping each other

[moogghost]

i've been meaning to design these two for weeks now ever since i got hit with a vision for designs for them both.. these bosses are so creature to me i'm happy with how these guys turned out

more thoughts on the designs specifically under the cut bc i had a lot of thoughts when designing both as well as some lore thoughts since i've had them in my head for a few weeks now :3

pinging marciale-

it's a silly two headed dragon! it has two heads/faces as is, so i wanted to incorporate that somehow in the design

it can manipulate the goopy jelly bits of itself at will :3 that's how it often goes into a ball to roll around its boss arena

speaking of The Goop i am aware that pinging marciale doesn't have the more 'bony' looking jelleton bits in it however this guy looked bald without them

probably the most friendly looking of the bosses and it probably isss in a way at least in the lore rotating in my head. also absolutely the least 'orderly' of them all lmao

because its arena takes place in what i've always assumed to be a library/archive of sorts i like to think this guy is a archivist/librarian. or at least is meant to be one

also probably some sorta astronomy vibes because gestures to the constellations on the ceiling of its boss arena. do u think this guy likes sleeping under the 'stars' before its boss fights bc i sure do

one last more character central thing i think it would like drums. or play them even. this is just bc of the amen break in phase 3 of c0ld st0rage yea but also i think pinging marciale would go crazy on drums

asynchronous rondo-

i could not tell you why but this creature gave me bird vibes (actually i can it's bc i assigned rondo's boss theme to an unrelated bird robot oc of mine so rondo got assigned bird by association)

the inside of the funnel basically contains most of the goop that makes up all of rondo's faces, which it can make several (even uses some of them as hands if it really wants)

the 'eyes' of the faces themselves function as search lights!

further on the topic of the faces the mouths are also how it uses some of its attacks. like sting ray my behated

has more wheel like feet bc honestly? it felt like a vibe. rondo can skate if it wants

functions as the guard/a sort of security in the spire since. well. gestures to its boss arena

also pointing at the sushi(??) plates in the background of its arena and that it looks like a sushi conveyor belt i think rondo could cook. whether this is for the jelletons or the hypothetical prisoners idk i didn't think that far into this. ...and not that i'd imagine there's much purpose for that in the memverse but shhh let's ignore that anyways this cone can COOK 🔥🔥🔥

very quiet i'd imagine. not very talkative unless it's singing! (i know pinging marciale sings too but. i think rondo is more of a singer)

[xaz-fr]

Is the currently drama around skins/accents that people don't sign up for them so people can't fill them and thus buy the blueprints? Idk I haven't been paying attention.

Make accents.

People like dressing their dragons. Unless you're well known or the art is insanely good skinscents are a harder sell because they're more expensive. More people have 500g laying around than 800g (or can accumulate the remaining they need quicker). Most people do NOT have thousands of gems or millions of treasure laying around.

This is an old anecdotal statistic but a lot of the playerbase doesn't even have even a million treasure in their vault, or they consider that to be a lot of money. Idk if that's still the norm but I know for a long while it was. And like having 500g is a lot for many many players.

This is not 'don't charge what your art is worth' or 'don't do limited runs to make people sign up for accents'. This is 'other than the wealthy most players are poor like most new accent makers too' so filling your first skincent order is harder than an accent because most people don't have 800g to send you to help you buy a skin BP.

And I am beggggging people to remember how to make accents. I love accents. Please make more actual accents and not accents with so much extra stuff it turns into a skincent. Take off wing coverage, remove some of that drapery, go easy on the amount of jewelry. A lot of people love dressing their dragons and would love your first foray into accents to accentuate it!

[heckling-hydrena]

btw has anyone else been getting ghost notifs recently. the other day I got like 3 of those "fwmp" noises that indicate you got a new dm but when I checked there was. nothing <3

[painless-innit-colourful]

Prophets

(1.4k words, no tws, read it here or on my ao3)

But other than the maths of the situation, there’s another nagging thought that tugs at Tubbo's attention, even as Tommy stumbles over the door jam, cursing up a storm, looking far too bouncy for his last day.

He’s seen this before.

With twenty-one hours and counting down until Tubbo sends his best friend to his death, Tubbo reflects on the choice he's going to make and the nagging feeling that he couldn't have prevented it. Meanwhile, Tommy is thinking eerily of the same thing. It's been a year since this stream broke my heart, and I'm going to make it everyone else's problem.

---

Seven hundred and fifty-eight. Twenty-one. Approximately thirty, but who really knows. Two.

Tubbo runs the numbers over in his head. Numbers are good. They make sense, they’re reliable: when everything else is going to shit, when he’s living in a nightmare, numbers can be relied upon to always provide the truth. So, making the last bed Tommy will ever sleep in, Tubbo runs over the numbers again.

Seven hundred and fifty-eight fitful nights since the Manberg Festival. Twenty-one hours (though creeping uncomfortably close to twenty) until Tommy dies. Approximately thirty people they’re going to save.

And two. Two people left he cares about.

His son, with his rosy cheeks and eyes so bright - as if they’ve never seen the scarring flash of a firework or been kept warm by the heat of a burning nation. His innocent, undamaged, toddler son, currently tucked away with Techno & Phil in the tundra, where he’ll be safe in the case that anything goes very wrong tomorrow. Which it won’t, because the numbers make sense.

And Tommy.

He weighs two against thirty, twenty-one against seven hundred and fifty-eight. Mathematically, the answer is simple. Save the server. 

Lose Tommy.

But it’s not so simple, is it? Tubbo is dimly aware as he checks on a stew bubbling on the stove, toes and heart numb, that he’s facing an imitation of the trolley problem. Leave the train running, and Dream and Punz kill everyone on the server. Flip the switch, and their enemies (and Tubbo’s best friend) roll right into a waiting nuclear bomb. 

Save the server. Kill your best friend.

Again.

But other than the maths of the situation, there’s another nagging thought that tugs at his attention, even as Tommy stumbles over the door jam, cursing up a storm, looking far too bouncy for his last day. Or perhaps appropriately bouncy. Tubbo wouldn’t know, but Tommy would.

He’s seen this before.

I’m going to spend the rest of my life waiting for you, he wants to say, because that’s another undeniable truth. Let not third time be the charm: even though he’ll know it can’t be true, Tubbo knows there will always be a part of him that just expects Tommy to… turn up someday. Walk ‘round a corner in the new town he might build. Come stumbling across him somewhere out there in the bright, big world.

It’s not fair: truth three. It’s not fair. None of this is fair, nothing has ever been fair to them. The steam curling off the crockpot on the stove brushes against his scar.

Right. Seven-hundred and fifty-eight.

He can’t remember when it started. Somewhere in the mess of definitely-not-painless-and-colourful sparks, wither screams and the trembling of the earth, there was a single speck of blackness in all that light. After dreaming of his second death a hundred times, he started to look into the blazing light, and found it to be masking darkness. So he reached for it. He followed it. He built weapons of mass destruction, made impenetrable fortresses, dug into the earth following the promise of oblivion. Of nothing.

There was a moment, on his arrival to the crater of the original nuke test, when he’d seen a figure at the edge of the crater. The shadow was counting.

Counting down.

After the nuke test, his nightmares changed. They’d always been full of explosions - fireworks, countries, withers - but with the advent of Project Dreamcatcher’s success, they became pseudo-apocalyptic. Tubbo had always chalked it up to obvious anxieties (he stole his own nuke for a reason, y’know) but in the past few hours, a chilling thought occurred to him that won’t leave him alone.

In some of his more recent dreams, he stands at the edge of the world, looking out over a crater that stretches farther than the horizon. There is not a speck of a living thing around, and without a doubt he is alone. Those were the nicer ones. Some of the nightmares were just loud bangs, bright flashes and a cloud of debris and poison a hundred miles high.

He’d imagined the moment of a crucial launch so many times. A triumphant, even victorious feeling. Check-fucking-mate.

Looking at Tommy, falling onto the sofa with a contented grunt, he can’t imagine he’ll feel that tomorrow. The ticking of the clock yanks him away from his old visions. He moves to sit beside Tommy.

Twenty hours to go.

—

Tommy remembers how it felt, last time. The weightlessness, the empty mind grasping for something tangible to hold onto and finding nothing, the feeling of being ripped apart and reassembled like a wayward toddler’s least favourite toy. 

Tommy won’t admit it, would rather march off to the prison right now than admit it, but he’s scared. This time, Wilbur won’t be there. Bastard, he thinks, grimacing, couldn’t even stay dead for me.

He remembers the last time he saw Wil; on that fucking beach with the boat and the book. He’ll never forget the look on Wilbur’s face when he started crying, that uncomfortable halfway between resolute to go without looking back and almost staying for him. Maybe if he’d started crying sooner, he would’ve stayed. Or maybe that would’ve made him leave faster.

At any rate, he doesn’t have to worry about forgetting any of it. Not while alive, at the very least. Since the revive book will be out of commission, he’s staying in limbo for a while longer than thirteen years. A thought occurs: a horrible impression that sends a shiver down his spine. He won’t have Wilbur to talk to this time, but he might well have Dream and Punz. He shuffles closer to Tubbo instinctively, pushing the thought away.

The book. The other thing he can never forget. It’s gone now, ash on the prison floor likely, but the words within will never leave him. It almost makes him laugh to remember. The last words he’ll ever get from Wilbur, and they were that.

“Tommy,” the book read. 

“Do you remember when we were dead together? I told you I knew how far away the end of the known universe was. I may have been being a little dramatic (so unlike me, I know), but my point kinda still stands. I said it was 186,000 or so days away. That’s not that many, really, already, but I was thinking about it a little while ago and I realised I had been counting in limbo days. 620 days. 

Tommy, on November 13th, something really bad is going to happen. It’s part of the reason I knew it was time for me to go home. Hopefully this is enough warning for you. Gather up the things that matter to you - your discs, your pictures, Tubbo - and get as far away as possible. Please trust me on this. Whatever’s coming - it was fuzzy even in limbo, but it’s big and it’s powerful and it’s not good and it’s going to destroy everything you know. It scares the shit out of me, a little bit, if I’m honest.

I’m sorry for leaving. I hope you understand. Stay safe, yeah?

Wilbur.”

Tommy gazes at his best friend’s face, less than a foot from his own, eyes lightly lidded as he dozes. The hand clutched in his built the rocket that’s shortly going to end his life. The boy beside him will be the harbinger of this world’s ultimate destruction.

Tommy’s proud of him, in a weird way.

Yes, Wilbur, I do remember you saying that in limbo, he wants to reply. I thought you were just trying to scare the shit out of me. Anyway, I can’t leave. I have people I have to save. Be the hero everyone always told me I was going to be. Are you proud of me? This is the only way we win. Tubbo gets to grow old with his son this way. Your father and your baby nephew get to live this way. And I don’t have to deal with any more grey hairs or aching limbs this way. I think I’m the lucky one.

Tears prick his eyes and he blinks them away as he presses his face into Tubbo’s hair - which smells very, very faintly floral - listening to his best friend breathing, pulling him back to earth for just a few more hours.

I think I saw it coming too. I think we all did. I’m sorry. I hope you understand.

Tommy closes his eyes, snuggles down into Tubbo’s arms and draws in a long, deep breath. Selfishly, on the plus side, he’ll never have to live without his best friend.

---

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