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montereybayaquarium · 1 year

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No one:

Shrimp: Who are you? Who, who, who, who? 🦐🦐🦐🦐

Dive into our ✨updated✨ personality quiz and discover your inner shrimp!

#monterey bay aquarium #shromp week 2023 #i'm looking at the shrimp in the mirror #who is that shrimp i sea staring straight back at me #it's a new prawn it's a new day it's a new life for me and i'm krilling good

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tcfactory · 7 months

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Please consider: Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu role-swap

[LiuJiu, 2300 words]

After the fire, Shen Jiu doesn't sit around, he's aiming straight for Cang Qiong. Wu Yanzi tempts him, but if he is to ever find out what happened to Qi-ge then he can't play around with rogue cultivators, so he ditches the man before Wu Yanzi could take him as a disciple.

He arrives to the sect at a year when they are not doing the disciple selection - the women at the Warm Red Pavilion say it's because the Sect Leader is busy monitoring his cursed head disciple and if the Sect Leader doesn't take part then the rest of the sect has to wait too - but he's tipped off that Bai Zhan is always open to those who are determined enough to climb the mountain and demand admittance.

So that's exactly what he does. The Peak Lord sets him against one of his junior disciples and tells him there are no rules, if he can beat them he's in. It's a test he's not supposed to win, to see his determination and his reaction to failure, as a malnourished slave boy should be no match to someone in good health who has two years of training under his belt. But Shen Jiu doesn't know this, he has come too far to give up now and unlike the scrappy, but well-fed farmer's son he's set up against, he fights dirty.

He sets the basis of his future nickname - The Rabid Wolf of Bai Zhan - that day when he claws the boy's eye out and forces him to yield. His rise among the disciples is almost as meteoric as Yue Qi's and people are on the lookout for when the upstart slave boy will plummet back to the earth, but he never does. When the year is up and the sect is abuzz that Lingxi caves are finally opening again because they are letting the cursed disciple out, he's there in the front row among the curious onlookers and throws himself in his Qi-ge's arms as soon as the other boy steps foot into the light again.

Shen Qingqiu grows up tall and willowy and unpredictable, an unconventional physical cultivator that bends with the wind, but never breaks. With Yue Qingyuan's support as an unshakeable mountain behind his back, he is untouchable. He never bothers to hide what he is, not his scars or his sharp edges or the slave brand burned into the meat of his shoulder, often bared to the world by his choice of outfit; he stands as testament that even the lowest wretches can claw their way up to stand among giants.

Liu Mingqu yields to his rich family and allows himself to be enrolled into Qing Jing. He is not as suited for spiritual cultivation and he has no head for arts, but he is still a prodigy and a really hard working one at that. He learns all there is to learn for a scholar and doesn't rest until he perfects them all - music, calligraphy, painting, poetry - and even if he's ever uninspired about pursuing them, the Peerless Beauty of Qing Jing is a competent teacher who stands head and shoulders over his peers. He masters his temper and his manners and takes to hiding his face behind a fan or sometimes a veil like his sister to discourage people from staring at him.

Their roles may be different, but their nature remains the same. Shen Jiu has always been more clever than he was strong and nothing changed about that now that he's essentially a spiritual cultivator playing at star athlete. He plants a bamboo forest on his mountain - for meditation and ambush practice, he says, but everyone knows he just needed a bubble of calm for himself in the endless war zone of Bai Zhan - and mercilessly beats any disciple who dares to damage the forest. In the serene calm of his little house he hoards books and maps and all the culture he can get his calloused hands on, always thirsty to know more, an endless pit his Qi-ge happily pours obscure knowledge into. He uses the standing feud between Bai Zhan and Qing Jing to spy on them, learn their cultivation methods by sight and listen to the senior disciples do ad hoc concerts, so he can practice music in the brothel or under a silencing array just behind his house.

It's during one of these trips when he discovers Liu Qingge behind the Qing Jing Peak Lord's manor, restlessly shuffling through the steps of a formal dance. Liu Qingge yearns to move, he yearns for the exertion of his wild youth, but there are only so many acceptable options for a scholar and as a cultivator he can't channel his restlessness into hunting or horse riding. That leaves dancing, but Liu Qingge is not a creative person. He sticks to the dances he half-remembers learning as a rich young master and maybe asks his sister for some more, but that's where his resourcefulness runs out on this venture.

Shen Qingqiu watches him go through the steps of the same dozen dances, swap to a few rounds of sword forms - perfectly executed and ethereal, an immortal beauty that earthbound Shen Qingqiu will never be able to replicate - and then swap back to the dances, increasingly frustrated and restless.

"If Peak Lord Qingge wants to learn some better dances, this shidi can introduce you to someone." Liu Qingge startles and almost turns him into a pincushion with a barrage of bamboo leaves.

"What do you want?!" They are secure in their respective positions, but they still don't like each other.

"Peace, shixiong. I'm just looking out for the sect. How would it reflect on me if I let my fellow Peak Lord work himself into a qi deviation and didn't step in?" Shen Qingqiu shrugs and smiles with an easy, predatory grace that makes Liu Qingge wish he had fangs to match the Wolf of Bai Zhan, but there's no malice in the offer. "Come now, shixiong. There's nobody else here. We don't need to do this stupid game of social posturing. Tell you what, as a sign of my goodwill I'm going to teach you a meditation technique to calm your qi after exercise, free of charge."

Almost everything with Shen Qingqiu is a transaction, so Liu Qingge knows better than to pass up the chance to get something from his shidi for free - and the meditation does help settle his roiling qi.

"What do you want in return, then?" It's almost terrifying how intensely Shen Qingqiu's eyes light up.

"That trick with the leaves - teach me how to do it."

Liu Qingge doesn't bother to point out that it's a spiritual technique. It's an unspoken secret that they would be better suited to each other's cultivation styles than that of their own peaks. Shen Qingqiu has a storm of razor sharp leaves dancing in the air before Liu Qingge is even done explaining.

He almost regrets agreeing when Shen Qingqiu takes him down to the brothel, but the women his shidi introduces him to are truly masters of dance - they were stars of an imperial dance troupe before their owner was executed for offending the Emperor and they were sold to the brothel. They take him to the back and teach him dances he could never have imagined, dances that make his heart soar and his blood rush hot in his veins, while Shen Qingqiu lightly dozes among the women in the main reception area, his very presence frightening all but the most unruly patrons into behaving.

Liu Qingge is an honest man and he knows, deep down, that he got much more out of this exchange than his shidi. He’s on the lookout to see how he could repay him, but Shen Qingqiu seems to want for nothing. What he can’t get on his own Yue Qingyuan gifts to him, doting relentlessly on his sharp-edged little brother. So when he hears that Shen Qingqiu is to set out to assist in a night hunt against a particularly dangerous demonic beast that made its way over the to the far shore of the sea, he hops to the opportunity to compile a scroll of all the unspoken rules and etiquette of the island, as well as a short history on the ninja clan that asked for their aid. It’s all information that Shen Qingqiu has no way of learning otherwise, but should ease his time on the hunt.

When he can’t find Shen Qingqiu at the bamboo house he goes looking for him and that’s when he finds the silencing array, that’s when he sees his shidi sitting with his guqin in a clearing, composing music. Liu Qingge’s mouth goes dry, his heart skips a beat - his shidi is like a vision from the heavens and for the first time since he started this scholarly lifestyle, Liu Qingge wants to paint. He wants to etch this scene in his heart and condense it into a poem.

He slinks away before his shidi can notice him and leaves the scroll in the bamboo house. In the three years Shen Qingqiu is gone, hunting that elusive monster that decimates one village after another, he becomes a man possessed - or more accurately, a tender hearted young maiden yearning for her first love. He paints picture after picture, sometimes of a wolf stalking among the bamboo, sometimes of Qingqiu with his guqin as the scene lives in his memory. Rarely he paints his shidi stretched out on a couch in the brothel, languid with feigned sleep and one eye opened a crack as he vigilantly watches over his sisters - he gifts one of those to the brothel, much to the ladies’ delight. He starts writing poetry, yearning, horrible poetry his sister mocks relentlessly, but slowly he finds his words and his latest attempts are almost good. He is the first to hound Zhangmen-shixiong for news on Shen shidi and learns every word of every letter by heart, no matter how short or impersonal the progress reports are.

Liu Qingge knows that his martial siblings are not blind to his obsession - he has caught Shang shidi muttering “bro, really?!” under his breath more than once. He’s not familiar with the expression, but he can understand the sentiment. Yue Qingyuan watches him with patient exasperation, but he knows that the man doesn’t disapprove from the mild comment about how Shen Jiu will need a new ceremonial robe for his return celebration because his old one is ten years out of fashion.

Embroidery is, technically, within the skill set of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hounds An Ding until someone supplies him with Shen Qingqiu’s measurements and the finest materials he can bully Shang shidi into acquiring - “That’s the same stuff demon royalty wears, try not to waste it, my contact had to go through the royal seamstress of the northern kingdom to get it in that color.” - and sets to work. Bai Zhan’s color is steel blue, but that never fit his shidi, so he picks greens instead to match his striking green eyes. He creates a design that accentuates the deceptive slimness of Qingqiu, then embroiders the robes with bamboo patterns and a wolf on the hunt and when they are done he crafts a matching fan - Shen shidi hides from nothing and nobody, but Liu Qingge thinks he might enjoy being a little mysterious.

He is daydreaming about his shidi during the next Peak Lord meeting when the Sect Leader breaks the news: the beast has finally been slain and Shen Qingqiu will be on the next ship back home. Liu Qingge stays barely long enough to not be impolite at the end of the meeting before he rushes off to finish the last touches on the robes. He wants to leave it all set out for his shidi in the bamboo house.

In his haste he misses the look Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan exchange behind his back.

“So, about those arrangements we made…”

“Yes, please. Let’s get Xiao Jiu home before Liu-shidi pines himself into a qi deviation.”

“Yeah, he’s down bad isn’t he?”

“Are you certain your prince doesn’t mind? If you are in any danger, shidi…”

“No! It’s fine, I’m fine, he already agreed to it! In fact, my Xuebao likes your brother so much I’m almost a little jealous.”

“Really now?”

“Zhangmen-shixiong, please stop looking like you are plotting murder. It’s not like that. As the Mobei prince, he really doesn’t have a lot of friends. Of course he misses A-Jiu.”

“If you say so, shidi.”

Liu Qingge is all jitters when he walks down the path to the bamboo house. He can’t understand why because Shen Qingiu won’t be back for months, but he still feels like a maiden on her way to ask out her love on the first date.

He almost drops the package with the robes when he opens the door and finds Shen Qingqiu standing there in the sunlit room. His shidi is too solid, too real to be an apparition, his clothes worn from travel, his heavy pack still unpacked by the table. He stands with a letter in one hand - Qingge recognizes his sister’s wobbly, childish handwriting - and with Qingge’s notebook in which he wrote all his stumbling, horrible poetry in the other and Liu Qingge wishes nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Are those my new robes?” Shen Qingqiu asks, as if they have only met this morning, as if that was a reasonable thing to ask when Qingge’s heart is about to explode from nerves. He can only mutely nod at his shidi. “You know shixiong, I can see that you have put enormous effort into courting me. I would have loved it if it happened when I was here to experience it.”

Shen Qingqiu sets the notebook and the letter down and stalks up to Liu Qingge, his eyes sharp with an emotion he can’t interpret, but it makes Liu Qingge want to bare his throat to his teeth and be devoured.

“So, Liu-shixiong. Are you going to help me try on my new robes?”

#svsss #liu qingge #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #liujiu #tc writes #I'm tempted to draw something for this ngl #not putting this under readmore bc there was no good spot to cut it and it doesn't feel that long...#LQG going 0 to 100 in love like the nerd he is #Bai Zhan SQQ takes a more direct approach to protecting the sect #so of course he found out about Moshang #and beat Mobei's ass when they were still teens for treating hamster-shidi too rough so he got promoted to best friend status #that's just enough context for airplane to remember what he wrote about violent demon bonding #and clean up that no humans don't find physical violence directed at them sexy #mobei is a security risk to the sect but a calculated one #no other sect has a way to go to japan and back in five minutes so he can live for now #they are still pretty young here btw #Mingyuan is just old enough to write #she's old enough to bully her big brother for being a really bad poet though #tough crowd

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mysimsloveaffair · 5 months

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We enter the hotel & lounge, and I immediately feel like an imposter. Everything is richly decorated and gold-plated. I’ve honestly never seen anything like it. Is this what extravagance looks like? Why am I even here?

(Full post available to read on my website)

#banks day 16.4 #sims #sims 4 #TS4 gameplay #TS4 legacy #black simblr #brindleton bay #banks fam #bankgen4 #I'm back - Happy New Year!

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bayheart · 5 months

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the transformers: electric metal zine is out now!! download it for FREE here!!! <3

HI ALL!!! back after a hot minute with my work for @transformers-electric-metal!!! it's SUCH a cool zine (it's tf ocs!! hello!!!) and i'm so glad i got to participate!! i did art And a fic for this zine, both about my old lady Bramble here, tho they aren't necessarily connected :3 just the same gorl!!

check out the fic here if not in the zine itself!! >:]c (and u can see my buddy @woolydemon's epic spot art piece for the fic HERE!!!!!!!!!!)

anyhow, here we've got the full piece, an unshaded/glassless version (mostly to show off the rust rendering on catbot / show the center bramble without the glass!!), AND a bonus original concept version because. uh. i needed three images to make the post layout look better ok 😭

(special thanks to @dizzyst4rs for helping me so so much with the colors for the corner and top center bramble(s), as they hadn't been designed prior to this and he did bramble's og palette!! :D)

further ramblys contained under a cut thank u <3

SO!! versions of bramble to be specific, clockwise and then center: earthspark (root mode), TFA thorn (pre-experiment), earthspark again (alt mode), botbots, TFA (when she's just 'the catbot'), TFA decepticon au, TFA (alt mode), TFA shattered glass, college au lily, college au bramble, and then good ol' regular TFA bramb in the center! just for anyone curious about cont or anything <3

experimentation has given bramble a pretty shaky mental state, with a lot of struggle trying to figure out what parts of her are really her and whatnot. so i thought expounding upon that by Also including how many different forms of her there are across the TF universe would be fun!! and an excuse to draw all of the TF brambles at once >:3

and also. i swear to god the lights were blue yellow and pink the whole time i worked on this. my horror after hours of shading to realize that my pinks had become purples....... unspeakable.

i have never put this much rendering juice into a piece before ever in my life. please enjoy Pretty Colors and how i painstakingly blended the shading layers together with just a pencil brush at low opacity like a clown

#tf electric metal zine #brambleverse #my ocs #Bay Arts #my art #tf oc #transformers oc #my excuse for not maintagging this is taht there's 3 different conts here and if this shows up in 3 separate maintags i'll die 🫶#hi long time no see um. smiles. I'M ALIVE. just extremely busy all the time. even if i was Very Behind The Deadline on this it was fun <3!!#also the quality IS a bit crunchy here on tungle but honestly. it's so detailed u can hardly tell #i can only tell bc i've stared at this thing for actual days worth of time LMAO but if u want it in full HD look at it in the zine :3 #ok shuffles back to my cave... work to do and all #robos tag

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dukeoftheblackstar · 10 months

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Somewhere Only We Know

Summary: Plo Koon has an old book called ‘The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces’ that features numerous species blessed with physicalities. Reader/OC is born of the planet called Celestia which is inhabited by ethereal sight for sore-eyes. While they feature and exalt you as an upper echelon of beauty and grace, you vehemently plot against the author who Plo had once confided in you as someone who seems to have captivated his heart — a bully who had taunted him and riled others to make fun of Kel Dors and Plo as a youngling. You kept your friendship with Plo and though your heart bleeds for him, as it beats only for him, you decide to yet again express your desire to act in spite and avenge your most favorite Kel Dor in the galaxy. Only to be reminded of something else.

Pairing: Plo Koon / OC/Reader (idk how this works — sorry!)

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: (no smut) Maybe sad-turned-happy vibes? Idk

Notes: - Peaching (headcanon) is a form of encouraged relations by the people and law of Celestia that allows you to be in a consensual 'exchange' with no attachment. Essentially, a gatepass to fuck, be intimate with, be flirty with, be touchy with, or be with someone bound or unbound given that all parties are in agreement and consents. (will get detailed on this if I ever decide to dish out wips from ancient time) - Chrysanthemums are my most favorite flower ♥ A yellow chrysanthemum blossom signifies neglected love or sorrow. A white chrysanthemum is a symbol of loyalty and devoted love. - OC/Reader is a bounty hunter with natborn silver irises and is an unhinged bitch who is overprotective of Plo Koon and will fight everyone for him. (It's me, really. I'm just wildin') - OC/Reader Reference Image https://www.instagram.com/p/CfJ891cJVpG/

Color thingies because I'm deranged to not use them: Orange: Plo Koon Pink: You/OC/Reader Blue: Memory Purple: Me, because I have no self-control to self-insert myself whenever Plo and Kel Dors are mentioned. I'm sorry >:

Perfect divider by @idontgetanysleep with itty, bitty, cutie-patootie Plo Koon face ♥

“Just say the word, P. It’s on the house.”

You didn’t really need his permission let alone reveal any involvement should you decide to act on ‘it’. You’ve had her as a client before and the transaction wasn’t as pretty as her face — it was vile, filthy, and a cheapshot at an innocent target who happens to share attention from a prospective boyfriend. Yes, a prospective boyfriend who clearly has no intention of breaking off an engagement with the poor, unfortunate soul, you have removed from a certain narrative.

A sickening chronicle in ‘her’ life as if her claim takes precedence over anything factual. Hadn’t you been in such a rut with bounties, you would’ve never taken the job. But you did and it kept food on the table, a nice roof on your head for a short while, and got a beaut of a decent ship to cruise around in.

It’s never honest work, the killing part; but it's honest enough to be on paper and get you lined up with a few more bounties to get by. A couple of tracking fobs in turn of a good night’s sleep, a proper soak, and a treat to buy essentials and non-essentials. Essentials being food, fuel, repair and maintenance, pieces to fortify the little armor you have on because clearly, you need to flaunt to flex — that, and the fact that Celestians are vain by nature. Considering you age similar to Kel Dors, if you ain’t keeping that pretty face and body on point, you might as well off yourself for being a disgraced child of Celestia.

As for non-essentials that border the essentials category, an assortment of powdered fruit tea from your recent trip to Dorin.

Plo would chuckle, always that — never to confirm, never to deny, always enigmatic over the idea of vengeance. Though it may be an obvious answer with him being a Master Jedi and a Baran Do Sage, valuing life and shit, you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s because he truly still admires her and the memory of feeling ‘it’ for the first time is so strong that it has indeed withstood the test of time. It was either that or he’s in one of those moods where he’s psycho-bullshitting you to reflect and turn to the light — what an absolute devout to the force Plo Koon is, aka force-dweeb ; i.e whore only to the force.

Awestruck if that was the case but also a very disheartening concept. Then again, who were you talk? Wasn’t it your own volition to always tag along and linger in sparring fields and dojos while father met with the Jedis, handing vital information privy only to the Republic? Wasn’t it in your own accord to walk up to this rust-toned sentient because you had that undying need to pull on his mask and kiss him? Maybe not kiss him yet at time, but you’re quite the unhinged individual who would happily die to quelch the inquisitions in your head and kissing was a Celestian tradition to mark. All’s fair, right?

You just wanted to touch him, his face — eyes that had those black ‘thingies’ that made you wonder what color his irises were while the burgeoning need to unmask the lower chamber of his face grew with each passing second; more so when he started to speak.

Not much has actually changed apart from him — now a towering old man with more grace, reverence, importance, patience, strength, and other things that you’d like to unravel. Dirty as that sounds, who can blame you?

Have you seen the build on his chest and shoulders? Have you not heard the thunderous rumble of his godly voice that makes you want to drop on your knees and worship that impeccable form of his? — That makes you want to shamelessly surrender to the domineering, magnetic, regal of an enchantment that has imprisoned your heart, mind, and soul to be his devout little bitch?

Have you not, even for a second, want to burn through the fiery embers of his soul and lose yourself into the intoxicating dream of sifting through the intricacies of his intelligence and wisdom? To drown in answers and queries that would have you begging like a desperate whore to tell you more? More of that three-hundred year-old archive of knowledge that just swims in his head so invitingly like the cold lakes of home on a hot summer day? Have you not, even for a second, thirsted to the enigma that is Plo Koon and his privacy? Have you not sinfully starved for someone’s coc—-

“Tea?”

He could read your mind and throw you out; dismiss or reprimand you for being such an obvious simp for him, but he doesn’t — doesn’t always at least. Doesn’t invade your thoughts unless it’s one of those days when you were so rattled from a hunt that you didn’t even know how you ended up at his place; why you, a clean-freak, has yet to wash the blood over skin so smooth you whine over the tiniest of scratches and smudge.

“I can sense the evident thirst “be” at peak today, dearest.”

Did I mention that though he does not invade your thoughts without necessity, he’s also a little shit Kel Dor prick? That he’s the humblest of all humbles but has a side to him that makes you want to strangle him in his sleep and ride his brains back to when he’s an itty, bitty, egg and make omelet for breakfast?

“Yes, babylove. The thirst ‘be’ insanely high today. I mean, did I ever tell you how kriffin’ hot you look in those Jedi robes? I mean the browns and the beige just screams BDE!!! I could just.. Unf.”

You bit your lip to taunt, whether it was to set the familiar banter at play from a mere satirical retort or a guise because ‘he really do be looking fine in them robes’, it’ll be one of the many unspoken understanding and mystery that the two of you seem to dodge.

“BDE? I’m not certain I’ve heard of that before.”

“Big Dorin Energy.” Came your reply — one as abrupt as you had brought the cup to drink so painstakingly slow in hopes of boring him enough to move on.

“Mm.”

“What?”

Did I also tell you how oppressive Plo Koon’s silent treatment can be? No, well okay. It is.

“Whaaaat?”

“...”

Not a crease on his brow area, neither a shift from his demeanor came about apart from him attaching a metallic, contractible straw to his mask with a soft click before taking a sip from his cup.

“Ugh. Fine. It’s Big Dick Energy, okay? Are you happy? You’re such an old man, Plo.”

You always say this and without fail, it drives you so far up the wall you’d be at the same level as Plo — or taller. And as much as it elicits illicit thoughts, seeing yourself more drawn to finely seasoned men, Plo always gave the same response. The same ‘Indeed I am” that teeters between melancholy, amusement and pride.

Stars, he’s so kriffin’ cute.

“Very much so, my dear. The quest for knowledge never ceases.”

Cute and a disgustingly adorable dweeb. I love him so much and I’m sure you do too.

After a couple more exchange of pleasantries, you’ve found yourself rambling on about the strife of a recent hunt where you’ve procured a bad sprain that had somewhat permanently altered your balance. How you nearly fell off after a grapple-pull mishap because of a calculated step that failed due to said injury.

You went on about how it cut the payment since you weren’t able to deliver the target on time. He’d have asked a million questions too that riled you up to the point of completely forgetting your purpose of visit — your constant ‘let it be me’ visit that never seems to progress because of that stupid book tucked under his stupid bed that this stupid bitch gave him some stupid centuries ago.

“All you have to say is leave her alone, Plo. And I will.”

You cut the story short and as much as you’d expect him to be surprised that you had caught on, he wasn’t. He knew you would break free from the trance of having someone so keenly interested in your non-Jedi approved activities; namely bounty hunting and escapades — you do this thing where you commit theft for a hot minute and leave payment with a little extra at the most obvious place they wouldn’t look until they’ve simmered down to notice a note you’ve left. Funny that he doesn’t scold you for this but tells tales of how Dorin will treat this behavior differently. You can tell he loves a bit of mischief as long as you return to the proper action — then again, this petty theft of a mischievous act is punishable by death in Kel Dor standards; so maybe, no?

“Celestians are on page 9.”

Vanity betrays you by blood and nature. You wanted to smack him for saying that but you also want to smack (smooch) him for saying that. It’s not like you didn’t have a copy of the infamous book, but it’s so badly worn from testing a plethora of melee weapons on it, the numerous holes and soot makes any of the text unreadable and the photos indiscernible. You had copies of it too, memorized the entire book looking for any praise for Kel Dors and found not a single word of mention even.

The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces — in which enumerates and highlights a selection of upper echelon species that included yours in the most exalted tier. Your kind were the most ethereal species on the planet; silver irises, short fangs that elongate during ‘peaching and mating seasons’, skin deathly pale, smooth, and soft; blood translucent and voices a potent concoction of sweet, sultry, and heavenly with that right dabble of filth.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

You hated that book. Abhorred it to an unhealthy extent that you were but a push away from writing your own book and raining hell on her specifically, but you know within yourself that Celestians are not allowed to interfere — which is essentially why, though you do not need his permission and can actually act upon it deny involvement with a help of the top bounty hunter in the galaxy who you’d happen to be in the good graces of, it just didn’t seem right. You know in your hearts of hearts that Plo will be very disappointed and quiet about it.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I know. My brother and I are in it. He had said yes before consulting me and it was too late for me to back out when I knew who wrote it. Did you ask because you know I’d never dare "read" that shit?”

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I asked because you have something of mine.”

“Of yours?”

And it was indeed some Jedi mind trick because of the centuries and numerous copies you’ve annihilated "without ever once reading" the contents of that book, there you sat frivolously sifting through pages and scanning the photo of yourself with a crystalized necklace of a white moth.

Your hand instinctively went to your chest, cupping the pendant that had kept your heart steady and your mind clear since the day you decided to hunt that stupid moth that landed on his stupid face while he was meditating.

I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

A sense of warmth engulfs you in that moment of recollection; how he had blamed you for scaring the moth away after his master did the same prior. How his little balled up fists were on his side and the creases of his face were so drawn down that you laughed so hard you fell back clutching your stomach. How you saw him ‘frown’ behind his masked face and turned quietly to walk away.

I felt the earth beneath my feet

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ]

How in that moment you swore nothing would ever matter more than for his stupid face to never ever crease into that stupid frown. How in that moment, his little ‘Please don’t do that — it really hurts,” made you need nothing or no one else than this beautiful sentient before you who chose to meditate alone because the other shit-pricks were making fun of how he looks.

I came across a fallen tree

You recall how you didn’t even apologize. How you ran up to him and put on that equally stupid face you do with father when you didn’t want him to leave so you could play with him or have him take you to some off-world planet to pick and study flowers to tend to your insatiable need need to adorn your room with so many flower crowns it’s become hazardous in itself.

And before you could say anything, before you could rip off that stupid page in that stupid book that has your stupid face and that stupid pendant that you’ve worn for centuries as you both kept by each other’s side and comfort, something heavy weighs on the page.

I felt the branches of it looking at me

A chrysanthemum pair — entwined of one yellow and one white; withered, but you know it to be so. You know not only by heart and by the memory of you breaking the knots of your self-made flower crown that adorned your pretty little presence on that fateful day, having to vehemently rummage and pull from the assortment to find the ‘perfect’ one for the stupid frown on his stupid face.

Is this the place we used to love?

You know not only by the nostalgic drop of flowers between your silver irises that pooled at the thought of hurting the stupid-faced sad boy meditating by his lonesome and the young Kel Dor that had his fists balled ready to push or strike — to alleviate himself of any pain and hurt that deeply wounded him that day but chose not to.

Your brothers did that — pushed and yelled out of irritation, shoved you a little too hard sometimes but eventually came around. But Plo didn’t — he didn’t yell or push you, didn’t run off or threaten you, didn’t even do anything but ask so politely; asked so kindly as if he would break into as many as the stars above and it frightened you.

To be young and alone, to be so far from home, to be so far from mother and father and even your siblings; to having to go back inside a place you could hardly call ‘home’. To do nothing but train, clean, meditate, and study; to not be able to play with people of your kind, to not be able to run to father or mother when you’ve tripped and get tight hugs and forehead kisses; to not be able to snuggle up and build forts with silly brothers, steal snacks from the kitchen and tell tales of horrific stories and gossip until you all fall asleep, only to wake up between mother and father.

It frightened you so much that you felt ‘it’. Whatever ‘it’ was, you felt it. You felt ‘it’ radiate from him in such an alarming wave that it had rendered you speechless with hands quivering between two stupid chrysanthemum flowers pulled from your crown of glory. It frightened you that something had made you frantically drop to your knees and fuss about which color, which flower to give him as if the thread of the galaxy’s hold would break if you didn’t do ‘it’ right — whatever ‘it’ was.

The grip on the pendant tightens and you could feel your jaw clench only before you were made aware of the tears that had betrayed you for quite a while now. The taste of horrid saline that had taken a detour from your cheeks and down to your lips; a grim reminder that you have yet again bore yourself to Plo when you've promised countless times never to do so.

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Jedi kriffing mindtrick.

And if you have a minute, why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know?

Part of you wanted him to look, maybe lean over and brush the tears off your cheeks; to take that stupid mask off for a brief second and kiss you just as how you had hoped for when you first saw him. But you know he couldn’t —for so many goddamn reasons. And it’s okay, it really is. He could press his mask on your cheek though, right? Right? Right, Plo?

“Big dick energy indeed, you prick.”

Your voice broke and so did you face as you shamelessly sobbed onto palms that only did very little to hide everything; the sniffles, the whimpers, the brewing gasps of air as you tried your best to stifle it all at once. But of course you fail massively, it was not even an option to begin with. He carried so much power and reverence that if he had decided to open that hidden script between just the two of you, you’ll crumble so far into the depths of all these repressed dreams and emotions that you'd drag him with you.

This could be the end of everything

And so it remains just that; a hidden script in the narrative that is you and Plo Koon. The same script that loomed when drinks were shared, stories laughed over, and tears shed over just about anything. The same hidden script that will always thicken the air with the purest form of love — if he would allow ‘it’ to be called just that.

But even that would remain as enigmatic as Plo Koon — and so it shall be as it always has been; a hidden script that is you and Plo Koon; the narrative that has spanned centuries and will weave more.

He would only turn his back to you, remorsefully. Give you privacy and company at the same time like the stupid conundrum that he is; leave if you want me to cry in peace, you’d think to yourself — but stay so I can.

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Tears drip past the barrier of your palms and onto the page that kept the withered pair as if it would somehow unearth the once vibrant colors that bridged the paleness of your small hand with his rust-toned talons many centuries ago. That somehow it would caress your bleeding heart with the memory of his stupid smile plastered on his stupid face when he said “It’s okay. There’s more moths here, come on.”

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ] {any excuse to use these baby Kel Dors kids}

Sat by the river and it made me complete Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on So, tell me when you're gonna let me in

That somehow these insignificant droplets would relive the careful touch of his clawed hand over your soft, small palm as he dragged you past the bushes he hid behind and into this expanse of a lake full of fireflies and moths and flowers and fishes and him, and his smile, and his touch, and his face, and his warmth, and his presence, and his —.

“Do you understand now?”

Somewhere only we know

Drenched palms erratically ran through evenly drenched cheeks to dry them off. Eyes puffed and nose a shy tone of red as you continued to sniffle and curse inwardly as to why he still hasn’t offered you a box of tissues. But it’s there though, the box of tissues — so very close to your side of the table when it usually is at the center.

What a babe, right? Inconspicuous babe and his inconspicuous gentlemanly ways.

You took a few pulls and gently dabbed your face. Took another few more pulls and before you could dab them onto the page that held the embodiment of your love, loyalty, friendship, and promise of forever, you heard him cut you before you were even half-way down.

“Don’t.”

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

You turn to look at him, watching him ease back into a reclined manner — his face still in the direction of the empty space before him; but you know. You know that at the corners of those black ‘thingies’ over his eyes are those beautiful silver irises that matched yours. You know that in the tenderness of his voice would be the same yearning that not a single word would ever be enough to describe. That in the manner of which his shoulder would sag and his head would meet the rest of his couch that ‘it’ is here; that ‘it’ is here with you. That ‘it’ is neither about the book or anything else; that ‘it’ is but here, anywhere, everywhere with you.

That ‘it’ is the fact that you have something of his and he has something of yours. That ‘it’ has always been the same ‘it’ from the day that you broke his tiny, young heart and mended it so swiftly and gently that ‘it’ has stayed with him over centuries as so did ‘it’ with you.

That ‘it’ is indeed what you think it is if you’ve gotten this far. That ‘it’ is indeed ‘home’ — a place that only you and him knows.

“You’re such a sappy old man, Plo. I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

You say, closing the book and carefully resting it on the caf table. You grunt and sniffle, groaning as you stretched and tapped your ankles together as if to activate the thrusters and wait for command. By the window, your usual preference of entry, you took a deep breath and ran fingers delicate over your bare crown down to the length of your hair.

This could be the end of everything

“In the meantime, please allow me to use this as a reason to extract you from your duties, my sweet. Your company is always appreciated.”

Plo collects the book almost protectively and sets it on his lap, palming the cover as he finally turns to address your departure.

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

“Kriffin’ dweeb. Just say I love you next time. Easier on the tongue.”

And as you take your flight, you hear him among the blanketed skies, just when you’re far enough and too lazy to turn, you hear him,

Somewhere only we know

“Only if you say it first.”

Somewhere only we know

~ Fin.

If you made it this far, thank you and I love you. I hope reading this isn't time wasted. Also, drink some water and remember how valued you are and how nothing will be as magnificent as they are if you weren't here. ♥

~ Duch ♥

#♝#plo koon #my first complete fic #burning myself through this because i'm being a bitch about it #i didn't proof read this anymore because I know if i did I'd back out #so sorry for the misspells and self inserts because i am unwell for him so damn much and I have no self-control #oktnx bai

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vaalthus · 8 days

Text

The End of Magic Part 1 (spoilers)

Ah and here we are...

Ya know I already understood that there was already a layer of egotism behind Jaania trying so hard to defeat us, to ensure her vision of a perfect world came about, but to hear in the aftermath that she drained herself to the point that even had she won against us she wouldn't have been able to enact her spell really is something else. Though I suppose it really goes to show how desperately she wanted to prove that she was the hero of this story now.

At least now, she's willing to admit that motive was coming from an unhealthy place, it's just a shame it took being so utterly crushed and hitting rock bottom for her to realize that. But oh boy does it put some of the jabs she throws at us in other parts of the story in a new perspective.

Moving on to more pressing matters however,

I just love this reaction image from Warlic so much. Bro was seriously just like: "OH SHIT, GOD IS AWAKE!!!"

I actually kind of love that Warlic, when presented with the threat that is Aequilibria awakening, immediately resigns Lore's fate to annihilation and for any survivors to flee the planet. And he's right to think that way because as he lays out the crux of the problem Loreians are trapped between a rock and a hard place. They aren't equipped with the might necessary to challenge the Elements and destroying the Core would just kill everyone and everything and I highly doubt talking to them is going to convince them to not destroy the world as everyone knows it. So, what other option is there but to run away?

Fortunately for the inhabitants of Lore, Jaania plans to redeem herself by turning the Aequilibria into spaghetti water. Okay jokes aside this is pretty decent plan to keep the Elements from erupting while still giving allowing mana to flow to all of life on the planet at least until we can figure out away to avert the crisis completely. Truth be told I think this is a rather fitting fate for Jaania. She strove to dramatically alter the foundations of Lore to achieve a state of perfection and now she must do all she can to preserve those foundations lest letting everyone on the planet dying.

Ah character growth ya love to see it.

I also love how that there was no way Xan was going to get left out of helping Jaania and Warlic hold the Aequlibria at bay when they started cooking up ways to account for their spell eventually degrading. That and the fact that they are known as a bit of trio so it only makes sense for him to be included in this vital moment. In a way, Jaania, the past version of herself anyway because present clearly was not okay with Alex getting mixed up in this, got what she wanted: for them all to be working together. It's just a shame it took so much heartache and world ending catastrophes for that to happen.

Man I love me some plan executing montages

I'm becoming increasingly convinced Kathool was taking inspiration when transforming Remthalas into his eldritch form. Also, starting to see what the Aequilibria meant when they proclaimed they made the twins in their image, as their better children.

Ah so Sepulchure had Akriloth Jr. all along. I suppose it makes sense given he would have wanted to keep the young great dragon close for his own means when he was left a shell of his former self. It's good he's kept him a secret though I kind of wish Ahisma and Tipu had lived to see them again. There is still the matter of Akriloth's responsibilities as the defender of the Plane of Fire which will have to wait for now of course, but I suspect them living up to their role will be vital in future storylines.

This image breathes new life into me, that is all.

THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR. THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR. THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR. THE GREAT DESTOYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR. THE GREAT DESTOYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NEAR.THE GREAT DESTOYER HAS ARRIVED. THE END IS NE-

#dragonfable #dragonfable spoilers #no but seriously he had Akriloth this whole time!?!?#Seriously though I'm getting mad future redeemed vibes from Jaania Warlic and Xan helping keeping the world propped up #Also I love how the spell was modified in a way that contained all the elements to ya know keep the elements at bay #it's nice world building #I have a small inkling as to how we're gonna get the Aequilibria to go back to sleep but Imma hold off for now #We are so close to the end now.

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snackugaki · 2 years

Photo

I was semi-joking last post but ....she’s so fun to draw wtffff

Following 2007 and Rise Splinter’s example, Bay Splinter absolutely watches soaps, teleseryes, telenovelas, and dramas and Venus watches some with him

Casey taught them how to make their own skates, so now the entire sewer is an impromptu skating rink

... I forgot that Leo, Donnie and Mikey’s shoes actually match (as much as they could make their custom frankenshoes match-- Mikey’s is like 98% duct tape and bandage wraps tbh; “But they’re still chucks underneath...!”) I just subconsciously went Punky Brewster on her shoewear. problem is I like both. so. nyeh.

have I settled on the size of her tesse--- hahahahhahahhahhahhha no.

in a brighter timeline, if they did a 3rd movie or just put both scrotes in and pumped out TMNT movies like they have Transformers movies I’d guess Venus, Jennika, Slash, Tokka, Rahzar, whoever were probably whatchamacallit, experimental groups to Splinter & Co.’s ....control group? subjects from different experiments with the ooze before April’s dad went whistleblower. or maybe experiments from the 15 year interval trying to recreate the first lab’s results ‘cuz Sacks would’ve had the resources to recommence pretty fast after the disaster

although to explain Venus and Jennika... since Sacks had ties to the Foot Clan, and Shredder pulled that double cross with Baxter in OotS. what I would guess is that Sacks pulled whatever weight he had left with the Foot Clan (maybe with Karai at the helm in Shredder’s absence) to use their resources for any gaps with his own and as a cover to reconvene his experiments. blah blah Karai studied under Shredder obvi and so probably thought to have the scientists report to her before they report to Sacks. Sacks was kept in the dark, not told they were more or less able to recreate the original lab results on the turtles who’d become Venus’n Jennika. “oh oops they died sacks, sux 4 u try again maybe, here’s some more animals for you.”

Venus and Jennika are taken in under the Foot once they exhibit the same potential the boys showed; Sacks just goes a little apeshit on the science, as a treat, hence Slash, and then Tokka’n Rahzar and again told they failed. Sacks fully thinks he couldn’t recreate the first lab’s results womp womp u bitch

....how would any of them break out from under the Foot? lol i dunno. uh. mmmmmaybe black market “weapons” dealing-- Venus and Jennika break out (willingly or opportunistically) during shipment to... where? nyc why thefuck not, oh look they end up in chinatown *eyebrow waggle* oh now they’ve stumbled upon a grandpa, maybe his name is Grandpa Chung in the community, I don’t know, and he adopts them surprise! is he blind and therefore just thinks they’re lost kids? blech, does he see two turtles and see an auspicious omen? ehhh hmmm..... I guuuuesssss? or is he just gonna be an example of people doing good things with no prompting because it’s the right fuckin’ thing to do, they’re obviously kids with no guardians, and goddamn we know it’s for the plot but also people are just out here being good to each other guys, it’s real, it happens.

#fanart shitposting #bay Venus #bayverse Venus #I'm slowly growing more pissed #those boys truly were NOT being used to their full potential #Shredder touched some of the green ooze #in the first movie no less #wasn't touched upon in the 2nd probably 'cuz he used the purple ooze as his probably mutation cure #sure the bay movies didn't look like they were gonna go into the fantastical side of TMNT #but TMNT has sci fi #someone just needs to wave the triceratons in front of Bay's/Paramount's faces #the SPACE battles #problem is VFX are exploited to hell and back #on top of the fuckery I heard with the actors #it coulda been great #just INSTANTLY bitter every time I rewatch OotS #YES RAPHAEL UR RIGHT #you AREN'T being used to your full potential!#this was supposed to just be a fun little drawing #why does this always happen #too many thoughts in she gatdamn brain #lore up the wazoo #h elp

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