#man I love thinking about aus and stuff

[floating-far-from-earth]

while talking with @candycorncartooncat about bonnie looping au, the idea of loop & odile in the context of odile looping came up - and when talking, xe came up with the idea that over the loops, odile starts to believe loop is a forgotten party member - and well. I had to draw an interaction resulting from that would look like <3

also, an extra under the cut <3

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 14 — Doc!

Featuring both a current-day s10 doc and a verrry early s8 post-deviant doc! :]

[lurkinginnernarrator]

au where SQQ does undergo the 'qi-deviation' and is 'changed' but in reality the twin of Shen Jiu, Shen Yuan made a comment one day about how all Shen Jiu did was bitch about his martial siblings. Never one to turn down a golden opportunity,

Shen Jiu: bet

And so the twins decided to switch lives!

The qi-deviation is just so they can explain away any differences of temperament and so sj can hightail away easier.

Shen Yuan: this is going to be so easy

(spoiler. it wasn't)

Between useless sect meetings that could've been not even an email but a text message, reading fifteen different preteens attempts to sneak in dick jokes into their poetry assignments, the head cook alerting him to the fact that they've somehow run out of rice??? They're the greatest cultivation sect??? How does that happen???

Anyway, two of his Hall masters eloping together and taking an extended honeymoon (he's happy for them, but. Who's going to teach those classes now??? Him. Apparently.), sect politics and his 'martial siblings' barely even attempting a farce of civility or courtesy AND his guqin strings needing to be replaced and restrung ?

Shen Yuan is sorry 🙏🙏please come back🙏🙏🙏

Cue the allotted period of switching ending and Shen Yuan dramatically throwing the fan on the ground as Shen Jiu rolls up and goes "thanks for the vacation didi"

[voidmetal-alloy]

Some very rough concepts for soul core Bass and Proto, with some extra things under the cut like how Bass' buster works and some helmetless ideas for the two of them.

[euphoriaface]

practicing w my new tablet colored this gravity falls doodle uh I love you adventure time parallels

[disposal-blueeee]

no bg ver because i once AGAIN added too many details and thet got lost with everything else

[wishchip106]

thinking about Charles taking Erik to the astral plane for the first time

Charles helping Erik remember and relive his childhood memories from before Shaw

they end up talking for what feels like days about their dreams of the future in a field of memories

they dance through the stars together while staring into eachother’s eyes (like in la la land 😔)

meanwhile their physical bodies are lying on a bed together holding hands in a dingy motel

[noxiousgrace]

Cale henituse taking an edible and forgetting he no longer lives in the 21st century

In the year of our lord 783 of the felix calendar (wait is felix the jesus of the raon kingdom??? Why'd the year count start w that guy)

This is krs!cale by the way

-------

Cale, lowkey woozy: bro...

Ron: yes, young master-nim?

Cale: did you put weed in my brownies?

Ron: no? Why would i put invasive plants in your snacks? *Confused benign chuckle*

Cale: why.. *smacks lips* why is the world so topsy turny ron? Hm?

Ron: ah, it must be the sleeping herbs.

Cale: no, you just gave me an edible.

Ron: ...is it not supposed to be edible?

Cale: *snort* that's something a boomer would say

Ron: a what?

Cale: *waves hand* whatever, you wouldn't understand internet culture anyway.

Ron: *is honestly just confused*

Cale: *already forgot about the subject at hand* i remember this one time i was in highschool *snort*

Ron:....?

Cale: i was with a bunch of kids, theatre kids, and we all did *snort* edibles and thought it would be fun to play truth or dare

Ron: young mas-

Cale: *talking over him* and well, I didn't think it was a good idea cuz we were probably gonna do something stupid and like *wheeze* we made this one guy dress up as eric cartman *absolutely losing it, smacking his knee and laughing*

Ron: *honestly thinks cale is hallucinating at this point and is debating on calling a priest*

Cale: and we fuckin made him sing an entire lady gaga album, can you immaaagiineeee?? *Wheeeeze*

Cale: and oml what he did after was insane! So we didn't get off very well so he thought it would be sooo funny to like... *He looked up at the ceiling, completely losing the plot again* hehsh did i ever tell you this ceiling lowkey looks European

Cale: *starts mumble singing* gay or europeeaann,, it's hard to guaranteeee,,, is he gay or europeeeann???

Ron: *has already left the room in order to get someone to help cale*

---

*cale has migrated into the library*

Priest: young master-nim pleas-

Cale: whyyyy did you get an entire squad of exorcists in here ron????

Ron: young master, you're not yourself *he actually looks concerned*

Cale: *wheeze* what are you? Y/n???? My coworker wasn't crazy after all,,,

Ron: ...??

Cale: No because drinking games are crazy

Cale: anyway i miss mmorpgs man *sigh* i miss my wife tails

Ron: wife???

Cale: *ignoring him* pink fluffy uniiicorns dancing on rainbooows *knows this song from the one time he had to babysit the neighbors kid*

---

The day after

-

Ron: young master-nim

Cale: *jumps out of his skin because of rons sudden appearance* what????

Ron: what is a boomer? You were saying a lot of funny things yesterday.

Cale: *sweating bullets* I've been having weird dreams lately???

Ron: uhuh *it's obvious he doesn't believe cale but just leaves it alone for now*

[starrycassi]

An engineer. An assistant. A heir.

Located on my jayvik work for silco au.

.

Singed doesn't think too highly of himself.

Maybe he did, once. Young and full of passion, he thought himself the next big thing. A lifetime ago, he’d stared at the mirror and grinned, proudly eyeing the way his Academy badge gleamed under the light of his table lamp. Maybe he was foolish enough to think that it was him, him and his ideas, that would change the world. His days at The Academy are not days he recalls too often.

Then he had a daughter, and his world was reduced to her. Her smiles, and her cries, and the way she said pouted when things didn't go her way. He wanted nothing more than to give her the world. Maybe he would have, had things been different. They weren't.

Sickness came, as sickness does. People bawled, as people do. Colleagues tattled, as colleagues do. Oriana wilted away, as flowers do. Unstoppable sequence of extremely common events. When tragedy makes herself at home, the host tends to believe themselves unique in their suffering. They are not. There has been far too many parents and far too many daughters, and far too many of them have met this exact same path, have stumbled in the exact same rocks and crevices. It is what it is. It is as it should be. Death is inevitable, the sky is blue, water is wet. It is as it should be.

The casket should have been lowered, as caskets are supposed to do. It never was.

And now, Singed doesn't think of himself too highly. He knows that his intellect is unmatched, his skill is unheard of, his knowledge is craved. He is different, better, in a way that not many people are. He is, also, failing.

Oriana's face shows no change when he taps the glass of her enclosure lightly. It is not a surprise.

“Soon, my dear.” He tells his little daisy, staring at the still flesh, the closed eyes. “Do not get impatient.”

She does not answer. He is used to it.

.

Singed is a horrible person.

He knows his morals are skewed. His code of ethics is nothing but a two-page pamphlet with vague drawings of fairies in it. He is, objectively, a bad man. He has aided in the killing, torturing and general misfortune of dozens, if not hundreds, of people. It's not like he's keeping count.

“Did you do build this, boy?”

He knows how dangerous he is, even if the boy seems unaware. Thankfully for the strangely trusting young man, he is many things, but not attracted to children. That is one of the few lines he won't blur. Not because he is a father, or because he particularly cares about the wellbeing of potential victims, or because he feels some sort of empathy for the many, many kids subjected to some sort of abuse in these parts of the underground. Though he does think that it is unfortunate, as everything around here is. No. He simply has never been interested, and that’s that.

The boy —Viktor— comes by. He learns, eager for someone, anyone, to pay attention to him, to his ideas. He is silent in a way that Oriana never was, not when she was awake. At first, it is a practiced, learned quietness. The stillness of the deer who has no other option but to play dead. It evolves. Daily, Viktor starts asking more questions, suggesting more improvements. He starts to smile whenever Rio licks his cheek, batting her away with no real force. He starts to cry silently when he thinks Singed is too occupied to notice, usually while cradling a bruised arm or a broken cane. He starts to pout when things don't go his way, frowning with annoyance at whatever prototype has managed to defeat him today.

Singed wonders if his parents know where their son is, who he is with, what he is doing. Do they care? They should. He will never allow Oriana to be alone, in a secluded cave, with an unknown man and a potentially deadly animal, sometimes for hours on end, when she wakes up.

He doesn't care for the kid, not any more than he does for Rio. He is useful. Smart. Quick to understand, easy to guide. He rolls with the punches that Singed throws him, taking them with an unwavering grace. Eventually, he even learns to punch back.

“That is wrong,” Singed says, eyeing the way Viktor's tiny fingers try to mold the copper, “It is far too cold. If you can't understand thermodynamics, then you should not be on my lab. Ever.”

“I am developing a new method,” Viktor answers, not even turning around to look him in the eye, “If you can not understand innovation, then you should not carry a lab.”

“The correct word in that context would be own, or have. Possess, even. I do not *carry* the lab. It is always here.”

“You understood my idea.” Stubbornly, Viktor keeps on turning the material, making absolutely no progress. “Good enough. For me.”

.

Oriana liked ballet. Fairies. Make up. She was a stereotypical girl, with stereotypical tastes. Singed never cared about it. If she wanted to be a princess, like a hundred girls had wanted for hundreds of years before, who was he to say no?

“If I was, eh, a prince,” Viktor muses, staring into his mug. “I would fill my castle with, how you say? Food. For everyone. Blankits. Water.”

Singed hums, taking a sip of his own mug. The smell of coffee fills the room. His has a drop of whiskey sprinkled in.

“Blankets. Blan-kets. Not lab equipment? Chemical resources? Aluminum, copper, steel parts?”

Viktor imitates his gesture, using the excuse of the drink to think his answer up properly. Singed would be impressed, if he wasn't already aware of how perceptive Viktor is, how quickly he adapts. Chameleon boy and his little cane. Oriana would like him. She will, when she wakes up.

“Well, yes. After I am done feeding all the people. Then, for me, laboratory. And a new bedroom. Big bed. Thick blan-ket.”

.

He asks for parents. Dead father, alcoholic mother. No siblings. The lacking communication skills come from his grandmother, who never learned Piltover common and never explained how she ended up in the undercity. She had raised him, then died. He spoke a fully foreign language at home, which made bonding with other kids even harder. Viktor was ostracized by his circumstances. No one has his back, not fully. No one to stop him.

He offers the spare room on his main sleeping quarters. It is more of a closet than a room, but he brings a new mattress and the fluffiest pillows he can find. A heavy, yellow blanket. His various works pay decently enough for him to feed another mouth. Clothes and necessities can be figured out when the time comes.

If Singed was a better man, he might say that he did it out of care. Or concern. Maybe even out of curiosity.

Singed is not a better man. He did it for the same reason he does everything else. For Oriana.

He is not stupid. The days are passing. His age increases, increases, increases. He isn't any closer to waking her up, and his back is starting to ache when winter arrives. He is getting older, but his daughter is not.

She needs someone else. A brother, if not an assistant. Someone younger than her dad, someone to keep her company in the world. It can not be him, not anymore. His body is starting to resent him from the all-nighters and meal-skippings.

Viktor is not, necessarily, healthy. Or well liked. Not even well known. He has no responsible parents in sight (because, really, how come this child is so often with him?) and no money of his own. Singed could latch onto that. Instead, he thinks of castles with halls full of food, and decides that the way that Viktor will understand is the emotional one.

For all his talk of science and progress, Viktor is a child. Immature and temperamental. He comes with all the downsides of being a child. Fortunately, he brings the upsides, too.

Was Oriana to wake up in the next half of a decade, she would have someone to grow up with. Someone to keep at her side, to play and explore with. Oriana has always been kind. She will slow down, for Viktor, and that will make it easier for Singed to know where she is at. Was she to wake up someday after that, she would have an older caretaker. Old enough to know more about the workings of their environment, young enough to be in the loop of how the external world has changed. Viktor won't live long, not without some tweaks and fixes, but Singed would gladly make the boy a new set of lungs every single month, if it meant that he would look after Oriana.

The decision is taken. He makes sure to keep Rio in her cage. Viktor's attachment to the mutation’s vessel is a problem. Singed is not only a scientist, but a drug-dealer. He's used to solving problems, by now.

.

“Her name is Oriana.”

Viktor gapes at him, eyes wide with far too many emotions for Singed to pinpoint even one. The soft hum of the machines fills the silence for them. A mechanical heartbeat, designed for one person and one person only.

“She is…”

Whatever Viktor is about to say, dies on his lips. He hovers over the glass, careful not to touch, seemingly mesmerized by the body kept inside it. He looks like he's hyperventilating and breathing far too slowly at the same time. Singed considers, briefly, the idea that his daughter will wake up tomorrow and Viktor will be infatuated with her. That would work, too, he supposes. It wouldn't be his favorite option, but it could be manageable.

“Is she�� dead?”

Ah. That's it, then. Singed, carefully, turns his words in his brain, making sure to pick and choose them with surgical precision. Viktor is not crucial to the operation, but he could be. He is smart, and lonely, and Singed knows that human nature is not impossible to mold. He could turn Viktor into something vital. He could turn Viktor into someone necessary.

“Medically? Yes. Technically? No. See those tubes? They give her the proper nutrition. The ones over there? They keep her blood flowing, artificially. Much like a water pump. It is only temporary, Viktor. I will wake her up.”

Viktor's face changes. One of the feelings seems to simmer down. He looks less scared. Singed had not realized the boy was even trembling, not until he stops. Was he put off? Probably. Viktor was a scientist, but even great scientist had a weak stomach every once in a while. He will come out of it. Singed will help. Then, Viktor will help Singed. Symbiotic relationships are not a foreign concept, specially not to undercity children.

“How will you get her alive?”

There it is. The exact same moment where the cut has to be made, the spot where flesh and bone leave a gap for a scalpel. Viktor is as much of a scientist as he is a kid, and both those sides are easily swayed with shiny new theories. Singed sees his opportunity and takes it. He talks, and talks, and talks. Curative plants, cell-regeneration properties, necessary sacrifices, nature and evolution and everything he can possibly think of that would appeal to the child. He spews back years of research in a way that would make it impossible to replicate, making sure to leave information out when he deems it necessary. Can't have a preteen run around with your life's work, now, can he?

It doesn't seem to matter. At the end, Viktor's eyes are practically shining. He seems so starstruck. So impressed. So swayed. So convinced.

“Do you understand, boy?” Singed asks, placing the palm of his hand over his daughter's bed. "If you live here, I will ask nothing of you but your help with my investigation for her. When she wakes up, you will be her friend. You will be under my protection. I will feed you and keep you, as long as you comply."

“I don't, eh, understand the theory now.” Viktor answers, voice choked with emotion, gripping his cane. “But I really, really want to. I study. I care for her. I behave.”

“I will teach you, then. You must obey me. Everything I say, yes?”

With far too much convention for a child who hasn't finished dropping his molars, Viktor nods solemnly.

“Yes, sir.”

.

Singed doesn't think too highly of himself. Soon, Viktor starts to share the same idea. His disgust with the man is a river that starts with Rio and never ends.

It's far too late when he realizes that Singed is, truly, a horrible man. He is in it far too deep. Silco tugs at his leash, never pulling, not yet.

Then, he brings in a man. Jayce Talis understands Singed in more ways than one. The theory is complete.

[ygodmyy20]

Happy Birthday @sodasexual!!!!

Teru and Shigeo dads with lil baby Saitama from her MP100 X OPM crossover AU (you can read An Egg Hatches here)

THEY ARE A FAMILY!!!

I already said this but worth saying again: Thanks for gushing about terumob with me, and being my friend, and betaing my stuff, and helping me come up with so many great [SPOILERS] for Black Sweatshirt that I am so so sooo excited to write.

[itz-pandora]

Huh

[lesbiansanemi]

So hard being a sukuna enjoyer and trying to find fics about him because you get one of two options

1. God awful out of character reader insert porn where you’re his uwu submissive (normally terrified of him) concubine or some shit but GASSSSPPPP he ACTUALLY cares about you and is soft for YOU ONLY and he wants you to GET PREGNANT with HIS HEIR oh my GOD

Or

2. God awful out of character suku.fushi or suku.ita where the plot is like what if sukuna was a MAFIA BOSS and he got OBSESSED WITH THEM and KIDNAPPED them and also it was INCEST and OMEGAVERSE and they call him DADDY while he FUCKS THEM INTO THE MATTRESS and talks about their PUSSY the WHOLE time

And both make me want to throw up in my mouth and momentarily wish I had the power to arbitrarily ban ppl from posting on the internet

[mint-flavoredd]

♣️♥️Flash your Cards rom-com movie cover + doodles!! definitely give it a read!!!♦️♠️

[euphoriaface]

and they were roommates

[arolesbianism]

Sometimes I just look at Isabeau and just know that if isat came out and I got into it when I was like 16 he would be my favorite character and I would've gone absolutely buck wild over this man and feel like he was laser targeting me. But alas Odile has a grip of steel on me rn due to her virtue of being a middle aged woman

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille