The Lady of the Lake’s (canonical) motivation for stealing baby Lancelot was that he was the most beautiful baby in the world. He was the prince of (and presumed heir to) a kingdom that had just been annexed and his father had just died of grief while fleeing but the Lady of the Lake spirited Lancelot away while his mother wept over the corpse of his father because he was cute. No other reason. His pretty privilege saved his life for the first time in infancy and went on to stop and cause wars.
for the lovely @aimportantdragoncollector's Fear No Evil that has the most insane eraserhead all might afo dynamic(theyre so holt wunch omfg) i wish i had the words to explain how this fic altered my brain chemistry. anyways this definitely happened before the plane ride to otheon
little scene redraw from chapter one of my fic At Your Side (I'll Stay).
It's a soulmate AU where after swapping blood, they get transported back in time to moments where they are needed as a form of ghost called a soul-spirit. The fic is from Izuku's perspective, and he can't hear or see what Katsuki is doing, he can only feel his touch. This scene is set in the staircase of Aldera Junior High, right after Katsuki's past self said the words he regretted the most.
Shane Hollander (Heated Rivalry) vs Ultraman Omega (Ultraman Omega)
Shane Hollander
Ultraman Omega
Voting ended onApr 12
Propaganda under cut:
Shane Hollander
Just look at him.
Also, Hudson Williams who plays Shane in the TV series has said in an interview with Buzzfeed (when the subject of the Omegaverse came up) that he played Shane like “a hungry little scrappy coyote that just wanted to hump and he was in heat and just wanted to, you know, whimper away” and also that Shane is a “horny little mutt”. So yeah.
Ultraman Omega
It's his name and also he grows taller than skyscrapers thus he is. the biggest omega.
The scum villain fandom is kinda like those sealed biosphere jars where the creator sets everything up to survive on its own and comes back in 20 years to see what freaky creatures have evolved
the very tumblr specific feeling when there is someone with a completely unfamiliar url, icon and interest on your dash and you're not sure if a beloved mutual has fallen into a hyperfixation hole and changed their entire look and vibe on a whim or if you just accidentally clicked wrong on some post and followed a complete stranger
if you have a popular post on this site inevitably people will tag it with something like “croggles to bringles when they lost the ploogie in ep 10” and it rules. i have no idea what you’re talking about but you’re right this IS so croggles to bringles when they lost the ploogie in episode 10.
i don’t understand why OPs complain when this happens on a funny text post. they thought it was funny enough to gift to their personal blorbo. are you not entertained? are you not enamored with croggles and bringles? go fuck yourself
i feel like the knowledge that there are some medical databases with free-to-use 3D scans of various human organs available for 3D printing would have drastically reduced tumblrs amount of bone stealing scandals. plus you can make ones that glow in the dark.
Scans can also be found by searching on general-purpose 3D sites like Thingiverse, Cults3D, MakerWorld, Sketchfab
The glow in the dark filament I used
If you don’t have a 3D printer, check the website of your local library to see if they do! If you’re in college, your university’s libraries could have one too! They’ll likely have info on how to submit a print to their services and how/where you could find them.
She's not being sued for playing with toys, or for making videos of toys.
She's being sued for MONETIZING it. She's using their toys and the Sylvanian name to make ads - which she's getting paid for. The last video had been a paid ad for Squid Game.
This is why it's a bad idea to monetize your fanfiction!
You'd think "Soulslike miniboss whose equipment drops have paragraphs and paragraphs of attached lore making them out to be a big hairy deal in the setting's recent history, yet literally nobody else has ever heard of this guy" would be a parody thing, and yet.
Everyone's heard of the equipment, but this guy just ended up with it Somehow and no-one's sure how.
Like, yeah, Starbreaker was forged of pure grief and then used by the last king to seal away the dragon god etc etc, but that was a while ago, and there was a succession conflict a few generations later, and then a revolution, and then the slow decay into crapsack brown dark souls world, and people just kind of lost track of it, and now Bob has it for some reason.
The way necromancy works is this: Everything in your body — meat, bones, skin, blood — has something like a memory. They remember, in their own way, what it’s like to be alive. Skin remembers the sun. Bones remember what shape they’re supposed to be in. Muscle memory is more than just an idiom.
The way necromancy works is that the caster puts a little bit of their willpower into a corpse to order it to remember how it functioned in life and obey. This is easiest to do with bones, which are easy to trick, and becomes increasingly difficult the more of the original body remains.
To reanimate a full body to your command, you have to have a lot of willpower.
The necromancer checked the map. She checked the map again. She squinted up at the stars, lips moving silently. Then, taking the lantern off its hook, she peered over the side of the little sailboat.
There wasn't much to see. The sea was dark and still as glass, except where the lanternlight turned a patch of seawater a yellowish-green. A tiny fish flitted into the gleam, attracted to the light, and then vanished into the murk again.
The necromancer chewed the inside of her cheek. She sat down again, the boat bobbing gently with the movement, and checked the map one more time. Then she opened the little wooden case on the floor of the boat, which unfolded into a neat arrangement of drawers.
There were. Things. In the drawers. Some wriggled. Others twitched little beetly legs into the night air. A few of them made noises, which ran together into a squeaky, wheezy squeal of horror.
The necromancer twiddled her fingers over the display as she considered her options. Then she grabbed a few of the twitching, wriggling things, held them in her palm and squeezed her hand into a fist as tightly as she could with a squelching noise.
She opened her hand to inspect her work. She breathed the spell into it, and then, holding her hand over the edge of the boat, dropped the spell into the sea.
And that seemed to be it. She sat back in the boat and closed the little wooden case. After a moment she started looking over the map again.
There were a lot of handwritten notes on the map. Each one was connected to a mark and some coordinates; some of them said, "Storm 1457," or "Struck a rock 1483." Others said "Total failure," or “Completely dissolved.”
The note the necromancer seemed most interested in was the one that read, “Battle of Salzstein, 1501.”
The necromancer checked the map. She checked the map again. She squinted up at the stars, lips moving silently, and then she was suddenly thrown down to the floor of the boat as though a giant, invisible hand had crushed her.
Her mouth opened in a noiseless scream.
Two minds were fighting for control of the corpse; on one side was the mind of the caster, and on the other was the memories of bones, of flesh, of skin, trying to drive the caster out.
The weight of that mind was incredible.
Sweat poured off the necromancer’s brow; darkness whorled across her vision. Then slowly, every movement a bone-breaking agony, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, lungs straining.
The trick was that this mind knew how to obey.
The necromancer stood, wobbled, steadied herself and poured her willpower into the sea. She tried to make hers the full willpower the thing had obeyed in life, the will of the wind, of the sea, of the rigging and the wheel.
Because of course it had been alive. In a sense, they were all alive. Sailors talked of them like they were alive, gave them names, called them “she.”
Sailors knew they were alive.
It was the cessation of that life that interested her.
The necromancer reached out with her power, seized the mind in her hands and pulled, blood and foam flecking out the corners of her mouth as she ground her teeth together with the titanic effort and ordered it to obey.
The sea roiled, hundreds of tons of water moving fast as something deep below boiled to the surface.
A bowsprit sprouted from the water. Then a wood-rotted figurehead of a mermaid. Then inch by inch, yard by yard, the huge barnacle-encrusted bulk of silt-stained timber rose out of the deep, seawater streaming out of every gunport.
For a moment the warship hung in the air like a monstrous fish held by the gills of a colossal fisherman. It dropped into the sea with a sound like a depth charge; the little rowboat lurched in its wake.
The necromancer released the spell. Then she threw up, and passed out.
———
Later, once she had woken, gathered together the tackle box, the lantern, and the map and had scrabbled aboard, the necromancer inspected the undead ship.
There was a hole in the hull where a magazine charge had exploded. This was, admittedly, fine. Undead men could walk with a hole in their bellies; an undead ship could sail with one as well.
Really, she thought, despite the discomfort the spell had worked masterfully.
It was a perfect start.
She unfolded the map on the soggy floor of the quarterdeck, sucked the end of a pen, and next to the last marker wrote “Total success.” Then her finger began to trace down the page to the next.
And the undead ship — unbidden and obedient — shifted its sails and began to move south.
i must not take it personal. taking it personal is the mind killer. taking it personal is the little death that brings total oblivion. i will face taking it personal. i will permit it to pass over and through me. and when it has gone past i will turn the inner eye to see its path. when the taking it personal has gone there will be nothing. only i will remain
CAUTION! FALLING DEBRIS @franzwantscoffee - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
