[Start ID: Good Omens drawing of a weeping Crowley kneeling before Aziraphale, forehead pressed to the angel's belly and hands fisted pleadingly in his coat while the angel looks on with an unreadable expression. Aziraphale then cups the demon's face in both his hands and tilts his teary face up towards him, before stooping down to hug him. Crowley returns the embrace tightly, holding him close. Accompanying the drawing are lyrics from the song Nothing's New by Rio Romeo, saying: "I wanna be touched, be loved. I wanna heal, be hugged. It's just the two of us..."/End ID.]
...Or that's what we swore.
sort of out of character, but as a wise man once said: music make you lose control
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I'm surprised you haven't posted any Welcome home stuff recently! Honestly kinda makes me sad since I love your WH art and stuff
yea y'all are gonna have to be Patient w/ me bc
a) i have like. a week left to pack all of my stuff before i need to shove everything into a uhaul and leave, so its crunch time! leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else
b) to be honest my mental health is the worst its been in years - which is fine, its whatever, i can deal. it's not as bad as it could be and im handling it! like a champ, even! but also its leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else
c) had a minor crisis over my art and how i interact w/ WH, and i realized im not scribbling enough of what I want. ive mostly been trying to please people and do as asked and thats! not good! so i want to temper expectation & reassert that im Not a WH art blog - its just a hyperfixation / something i love rn. i draw what i enjoy & what i want in the moment.
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For a moment, imagine yourself in Mithrun's brother shoes.
Your brother - stronger, prettier, more charismatic, but also distrustful and disdainful of everyone especially you - is to be sent to the Canaries. It is the rule, it is the duty of all noble houses. But you know what goes on there, Mithrun knows what happens there. Yet you see him off, bidding a temporary farewell as you do, because someone from the House has to go and it won't be definitely you. Mithrun knows this, you know this. And you wonder, very briefly, if Mithrun hates you now more than he does already.
Your brother - powerful, agile, a good soldier just as he is as an heir, if he could only be an heir - suddenly disappears. The unit he belonged to suddenly disappeared. And you're speechless because - how? why? No one wants to answer you; they will instead try to bring back a body, they promise to you. But that is not what you want. You grieve for your brother. but your own family doesn't grieve with you. Wasn't Mithrun family too?
Then you found out: MIthrun is alive.
Your brother - now weak, despondent, his eyes always looking for something that is not here nor there - is to be sent home where people can take care of him. It is not your first choice, you want him home. But he is - sick. Not quite there. He needs someone who can look after him and you look at yourself - your gait, your constitution - and you know it can't be you. So, you follow the advice of your family and pour out all your resources to find him the best of healers and caretakers. You ask yourself, almost daily, if Mithrun would ever return to who he once was.
Your brother - strong, pretty, uninterested of anything and anyone else aside from what he calls 'the demon' - is now better. He can walk on his own now, eats without throwing up on himself. The color on his skin is back and the scars of his injuries have faded into thick bumps and discolored skin. But he still isn't quite there; still needs help and probably will for the rest of his life. And you can live with that. You can provide that. Just as long as he comes home.
But doesn't. Your brother - now a husk of his former self, and you hate thinking of him that way, but you can't help yourself, the Mithrun you knew is gone - runs straight back to the Canaries. His mission is not over, he says. He doesn't care how long it takes, he says. And you see him off, again, because someone from the House has to go and it still can't be you. Mithrun knows this, you know this, and you can't help but wish, very briefly, if things would've been different if you went instead of him.
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doing art n a v neurotypical manner (drawing special interest show while watching special interest show w.o actully looking @ screen bcuz i can see it n my brain the whole time quoting along nd rewinding every 2 seconds to re-hear my favorite soundbites)
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probably the best thing about having fuckin TWILIGHT in my roster of Mental Illness Emergency Contacts is that every time i get back to it its a wakeup call. embarrassing✅ cringe✅ bad writing✅ racist, mormon propaganda✅ should be left to rot like harry potter etc✅ but im still over here like "okay but the comfort i felt while connected to these characters" BITCH YOU NEED HELP
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