#I most likely will make more art of them later but have these crumbs for now ^3^

[mezzyb0nb0n]

Human Huskerdust doodles <3

Refs pics bc why not

#I most likely will make more art of them later but have these crumbs for now ^3^ #hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angelhusk #angel dust #husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #husk x angel dust #art #digital art #ibis paint art #gay #vitiligo #heterochromia #fanart #redesign

[serpentarius]

been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 

It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?

It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????

For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.

And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.

I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.

Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.

And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.

The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.

Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.

so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 

please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂

#our flag means death #ofmd #my thoughts #ofmd thoughts #sorry for the long rambles I just needed to scream into the void #I feel helpless right now but I also wanna fight #sending love ❤️

[isa-ghost]

amfmn missa.. p please.. please mother … feed us

I'M BEING ENABLED PPOVERHEAT

He's an actual grim reaper. That's where he's disappeared to so often in canon, reaper duties. It's a very demanding job, you know.

Doesn't stop him from feeling terrible about being gone so often though. He misses his husband and kids and hates how often he's out of the loop :(

Fr though Phil and the kids make him so so happy after spending countless hours working such a sad job. It's also partially why he sings and makes art. That brand of fun is catharsis for the soul.

He has all his canon weapons but I ALSO gave him a reaper deathscythe. And boy is he gonna use it. Fucking AWOOGA MissaSinfonia when he's angry.

Btw as a reaper he can FEEL souls. He can see their power, their condition, feel the surface level emotions and personality of its owner. This will come in handy later in the fic. ;)

As per the post I made asking for Missa appreciation so I can characterize him properly: He's undyingly loyal, he fights hard and loves even harder, he's protective, silly, and goddamn can he flirt.

All his wet cat behavior is a result of getting too overwhelmed by The Horrors. He's seen A Lot as a reaper. But somehow Quesadilla Island and all its... Everything. Always manage to show him a new brand of What The Fuck he's never even imagined before. Hence all his screaming and weeping when he's caught up on what he's missed. Like how tf else is he supposed to react??

Somewhat attached to that, he and Phil rlly were a match made in Federation Heaven bc they both have issues with self-doubt despite being insanely skilled and sharp-witted. Missa is better abt it than Phil though. His only acts up when he messes up a lot or just. Doesn't have a clue how to handle a situation where it's dire that he does. It's more of an insecurity about being unprepared and failing his loved ones than it is a doubt he has skill. He KNOWS he does, he hates when it's not enough. That's how he differs from Phil, who thinks he has none at all.

Btw when you fuck with the people he's protective over, he gets PISSED. We're getting a LOT of pissed off Missa in AMFMN <3 Ofc there'll be a lot of reaper tears too, his husband is suffering and there's little he can do about it. :( But ohohoho when the sad turns into rage. BARK WOOF. Eventually he decides EK is catching these hands and scythe.

He also shakes hands with his husband on being a self-sacrificing little shit. And. Yeah this is gonna happen later in the fic. (He's not dying dw dw)

You have no idea how excited I am that I basically get to build his dynamics with Fit, Etoiles, and Bagi from scratch. I'm so hyped. People are welcome to reply with this with any crumbs we have of their dynamics in canon but afaik they've rarely interacted outside of very minor moments, so AMFMN will largely be a sandbox for me to establish what I THINK they'd be like. Which in my fic plan so far, is largely taking each character's personality and applying how I think they'd react to a situation, and how that would look when two of them are interacting in that situation. Ex: at one point Etoiles has to comfort Missa bc he's just having a ROUGH time with this saving Phil stuff. But Etoiles is NOT a comfort guy. So he does his Etoiles thing: hearing Missa out while also cracking his usual brand of jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

I also have a plot point planned with him and Bagi when shit is hitting the fan the hardest and OUUGHHH. That self-sacrificing shit am I right.

God I'm being so mean to him specifically in AMFMN though. Ender King is a sack of shit, he knows exactly who to harass most using Phil's body >:/

See in my AMFMN Fitza headcanons, I said they're each other's confidants. Which IS true. However, no one in the fic gets the honor of Phil FINALLY communicating with someone about his issues other than his husband. Missa is the person he caves and confesses things to. Missa gets the HC Deity lore and what's been happening to him lately. This is actually what Chapter 3 is :D

Also I am so sorry but I'm sliding a Missa Romantic Love Confession attempt into the fic and it gets interrupted by The Horrors. But yeah Missa is romantically in love with Phil, he just respects that Phil sees things platonically. He still wants to communicate his feelings though.

#qsmp #qsmp pissa #pissa #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #AMFMN things #deathduo #qsmp deathduo

[asterdisaster06]

Always and Forever

John "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader

summary > childhood friends to lovers, with a dash of angst. well, a little more than a dash

word count > 4.9k

cw > lyrics from Sadie Jean as dialogue, Price having to bear witness to the awkward and emotional reunion

a/n >  honestly, this story pains me even writing it. sorry in advance. just be glad i didn’t decide to make it a series about how the reader joined the shadow company and betrayed soap. although, if anyone asks i wouldn’t be opposed to writing something like that. then again, i’m writing a similar plot with konig and a 141 reader so. maybe not

ao3

You had known John “Soap” MacTavish since you were wee little kids that had playdates together due to your mother’s long standing friendship with each other. They had spent their pregnancies together through the beautiful moments of wonder that comes with the first ultrasounds to holding each other’s hair back in the morning as they expelled their guts out of their body - all because the day smelled off. Your mothers had their water break on the exact same day; a wonder pushed by the divine forces as your parents would say. You were born first and then Johnny came a mere minute later. You’ve held that fact over his head for a long time.

You were raised together in matching onesies and moments spent rarely apart. You were as much of Johnny's family as he was yours. Seasons and holidays were celebrated side by side with photo upon photos to prove it - your mother still embarrasses you by bringing them out of their dusty boxes every time you come around. Which, isn’t enough as she states. 

New years parties that ended in cupcake crumbs on each of your faces. Valentine’s day arts and crafts that culminated in your mother’s unending giggling at the glitter that stuck to their children’s hands. Easter egg hunts that you suspect Soap always let you win; although he vehemently denies even considering such a thing. Fond memories of eating home-made hot cross buns with the icing always ending up smeared on the side of your mouth. April fools days spent with you two running around causing mischief around the neighbourhood much to the chagrin of your parents. Halloween costumes always matching to some degree even as you guys got older; and the tradition of Soap always giving you your favourite candy is something you still remember. The light shows viewed on your parents’ shoulders during Guy Fawkes night always bring a smile to your face as you remember the permanent face-splitting grins you two shared those nights. Christmases that had your parents wondering why they decided to have kids whenever the pair of you ran into their room at five in the morning jumping around and screaming about presents. Of course, they could never refuse the excitement that had an effect on even them as gift wrapping was ripped open and pretty bows were discarded in favour of the gift underneath the concealment. 

Every picture of every moment of you two together - which were most of the photos given that you two never seemed to be apart except for bathroom breaks - always had a toothy grin on each of your faces. A few images over the years exhibited the matching gap in your front teeth that you shared with your MacTavish. You vaguely remember Soap celebrating the fact that his very same tooth as yours was wiggly. Although, you also recall that the reason it was loose was due to the fact he got clocked after defending your - in his words - honour from an older school boy. However it ended up missing, it was always a sweet memory that you held close to your heart. 

You remember sneaking away after primary school to get ice cream - Soap always had the weirdest combination of flavours that somehow worked, magic as he called it. Everytime you got the sugary treat, MacTavish had always let you try his with the excuse that you needed to taste how good it ended up being. After the ice cream adventure the pair of you walked over to the nearby playground and stayed there until you were the only ones left; that and your parents began getting tired of waiting there after they ended up finding you. Swings were always the thing you two gravitated towards within the park because it let you guys talk about this and that. You also always had fun attempting to get yourselves in sync enough to hold hands. When spring came around Soap taught you how to make flower crowns while he continuously made rings of dandelions to propose to you with. It was always a promise to marry each other when you grew up - much to the amusement of your respective families. 

Of course, your school life just had to be spent with paper airplanes and study sessions that really were just spent gossiping about people around the school. You two hooligans were actually banned from the library at least twice, something that your mothers like to bring up whenever they can. Despite the library prohibition, studying was something done on the regular at each other’s houses the night before tests. In spite of the giggling fits and existential questions about the meaning of life, good grades were made on a majority of tests and assignments. It was always a point of teasing when one of you got a better grade than the other when “we practised the exact same shite!” 

Secondary school came and went, with so many hijinks occurring that you’ve lost count. Soap’s cousin came to visit once or twice during the holidays and it got him absolutely hooked on the possibility of following in their footsteps. His attempt to lie about his age was seen through, but he was promised first dibs whenever he was old enough to enlist for real. It was a topic spoken about a lot during the late hours of the nights, tossing a tennis ball back and forth between each other and sharing your thoughts out loud. 

If you were being honest, it was simultaneously intriguing and terrifying to you. You certainly weren’t going to stop him from achieving his seemingly heart set career, but at the same time it sent chills down your spine at the thought of losing him to a stray bullet on the field. A wound that he couldn’t heal from. A moment of pause too many that left the life that sparkled so beautifully in his eyes drained from the bright cadet blues. In all honesty, this very thought is likely the reason you decided to enlist as a combat medic. You wanted to be able to be out there in the field alongside soldiers in order to treat them then and there. Soap promised to keep in touch whenever he was deployed, and to his credit, he did for a while. 

The once abundant amount of calls that came from the familiar MacTavish son sizzled out as he got more and more busy and so did you. The once nightly tradition of talking to each other whether over the phone or a simple goodnight text had faded as your adult lives trickled into reality. It was something that pained you, and you thought of the man every day. You would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth if you had the time and heart, but unfortunately life moved on and the planet kept revolving. 

That doesn’t mean that your feelings for him faded in the slightest - in fact, they only grew stronger as you messed around with a few men at bars. You quickly learned that none of them would ever amount to anything compared to the Scot that still was all that you wanted. You climbed the ranks with the thought of Soap in the forefront of your mind, a single call made when you were drunk the last time you had heard from him two years ago. He could be dead for all you knew, but you knew he wasn’t from his family. They claimed that his captain had been giving simple updates. It just seemed like he didn’t want to talk to you - or anyone associated with you. Or maybe he was too busy with his new task force friends - and don’t get it wrong, you were goddamn proud of your old childhood friend achieving all that he wanted and more. It’s just the fact that you wish you were there alongside him. 

You remember that call like it was yesterday, regretting it just as much as you did when it happened. You got stood up by a soldier on base that you had been getting closer to until he asked you to go out to this one bar. Of course, it appears as if he wasn’t going to show up, effectively leaving you to the wolves. You figured it out after two texts and one call to him going unanswered after fifteen minutes of embarrassment. You sent one last call to someone that you didn’t even expect to answer, John MacTavish. It rang once, and then twice, and then his voice answered and sent your heart down to your stomach. 

“What are you doing calling at this hour, Bonnie?”

Bonnie. An affectionate term that he coined sometime around highschool to make you blush. He never meant anything beyond the simple compliment beyond it, but it became tied to you nonetheless that you’d still answer to, to this day. 

“I miss you, and-” You start babbling. 

“Are you drunk, love?” He asks. You can hear shuffling and laughter in the background. There’s the unmistakable voice of a girl asking if he’ll join her on the dance floor, and you swear your heart breaks in two immediately.

“I love you, I always have. No matter where we are, you still have my heart. You were all that I wanted, you still are. You’re the one I can see me growing old with.”

“Hold on, love-”

“No, let me finish. Remember how you said you’d build me a house and plant me roses in the front yard? I want to cash that in. I’ve been looking for love around - and maybe some of them are real good guys - but they’re never gonna be like you though. You set the bar above the moon, MacTavish. I don’t want to be twenty-something and still in my head about seventeen in my bedroom talking. You swore, you said by now we’d paint the walls of our shared apartment,” You start sobbing at this point, your makeup running down your face.

“I know, Bonnie, I know,” He says, his voice a low timbre that sends shivers down your spine.

“Now that you’ve finally got the job you like. I wish I was there with you. By your side. Are you with somebody right now? Should I even care? Is it wrong that I don’t? I still care about you, Johnny. Still have your faded t-shirt that I’ve kept this long from that one festival. I think I’ve always known that I would love you. Now and forever,” You let out, realising that there was a distinct silence on the other end of the line. “Johnny?”

“Bonnie, I can’t do this.”

Your heart freezes; your frantic nerves slowing to a gentle tremor manifesting through your shaking frame. 

“What do you mean? Shit, I’m sorry, I’m drunk and I don’t know what I’m saying. Forget I said anything. I won’t remember this in the morning anyways,” You awkwardly laugh, praying that he’ll go along. You didn’t know what you would do if he didn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought. 

“We can’t forget this happened. I can’t. Shit.” You hear an audible swallow over the phone, and you imagine his hands running through that oh-so soft mohawk of his. The very same one that you cut and styled for him when he was sixteen - much to the chagrin of his family. They learned to agree it suited him after a month or two though.

“I think it’s best if we move on from each other. I need to forget about us, and I think you do too,” Soap snaps, and it would’ve rang warning bells in your head if you weren’t so drunk and distraught.

“Please, please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you Johnny,” Your knees give out and you collapse, clasping a hand over your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping. The harsh brick street would leave bruises on your knees and the cold puddle from the rain only empathised with the tears running down your cheeks. 

“Forget about me. It’s for the best, I’m sorry. . .” A click, and that was the last you ever heard from him. 

You turn that memory in your head over and over again. Every time coming up with a new theory as to why he would’ve said that - none being good enough to satisfy your depraved curiosity. Or maybe it was desperation. It didn’t really matter to you anyways; considering the fact that all you knew was that Soap wanted nothing to do with you. Wanted nothing more than to forget you even existed and to free himself from you. You’ve tried your best to honour his request even to this day. Even though it pains every single part of you from your bones to your blood cells. 

It’s the exact reason you’ve done your best to avoid anything regarding the infamous 141 Taskforce that you’ve heard so much about. The whispers across the battlefield through bated breaths tell you more than enough of what your old friend had achieved. You were proud of him, despite it all. It didn’t seem right to hold a grudge against someone just because he didn’t like you back - that and there’s always some part of you that remains stuck in the mindset of you as a teenager waving Soap off for his deployment. Letting go of that would mean disregarding all of the memories you two had shared together, and that wasn’t something you would do easily. Or willingly. 

What you could do though is actively avoid any conversations, transfers, or promotions that would be a step towards the one that broke your heart. Even though he promised he would never do that. You couldn’t move on though, not when he was never really too far gone. There were only so many times you could side step working with or towards the task force before your superiors volunteered you to be moved to their compound. Nothing you could reasonably say would sway their viewpoint, and if it could it’s already been used as an excuse in the past. The only thing you could do was take a deep breath and shield yourself as you walked past the gates. A small part of you wished there was something wrong with your ID and they wouldn’t let you in, but of course that wasn’t the case. Everything was up to date and your footfalls resounded down the long hall to Price’s office.

A renowned man that you’ve heard all too much about through both your fellow soldiers and Soap in the past. Always good, always with admiration lacing the words. Unfortunately that wasn’t what you were feeling right now - in spite of the fact that you knew you worked damn hard to be promoted to this position and deserved it. You wish you didn’t.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Seer. You’ve saved more men than I can count. Your skills are unparalleled and you hold yourself in high regard. Which is why I wonder exactly why you’ve turned down this position three times over,” Price says with his head tilted to the side. 

Seer. The callsign given to you after you had saved your entire team with simple intuition about a mission gone bad - quickly. You had gotten all of your men out and relatively unscathed with only a few singe marks from the explosion. The explosion from the bombs that you insisted had to have been rigged and live just as a trap for your squad. It was furthered by your uncanny ability to be exactly in the right place at the right time to save numerous soldiers that would’ve died without your intervention. Divine intervention as your old captain said, adding a religious spin onto your nickname. 

“I thrive on continuity and felt as if I was doing a lot of good where I was previously stationed, sir,” You reply, knowing it’s complete bullshit.

“That’s complete bullshit.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you were pissed to no end that he could read you that well. The only other person that you believed held that skill was your old crush. John “Soap” MacTavish. The real reason why you were so determined to stay away from this place. 

“Do you want to know something? I’ve looked at your file. Laswell has looked at your file. And we both noticed an interesting little tidbit about your birth place. Scotland. If that wasn’t enough, I’ve been around Soap enough to know a Scottish accent from a specific small town when I hear it - despite your best attempts to mask it. All of that might not be enough, but you had the exact same reaction to my soldier’s name as he did yours. What’s your history?” 

Damn, he was good. What you focused on in his rant the most though was the fact that Soap had physically recoiled as much as you did if you were to believe Prices’ words. And you did. There was no reason to doubt it, no reason for him to lie. 

“Childhood friends. We lost touch over the years,” You stick with, not wanting to blurt out how hurt you’ve continuously been about his abandonment of your relationship. Platonic or not. 

“And? I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want you on this team; if I didn’t care about you as a soldier. I also wouldn’t be this concerned if it didn’t seem like it would be an object of vulnerability. A liability one might say. You deserve a position on this team, which is why we’ve been persistent in offering it to you,” Price says before he’s interrupted by a knock at the door. A single knock that seemed to only be one of pure courtesy before it was slammed open.

You’re met with a sight that’s haunted you for almost half a decade. A ghost of a person that’s still alive and kicking. Someone that’s been on your mind ever since he had gotten on that chopper and left you to fend for yourself with empty promises that he’d be back. That he wouldn’t forget you. Promises fueled by letters and flowers and a promise ring that he had gotten you when you were kids. One that you couldn’t bear to wear anymore but couldn’t imagine throwing it away. One that still rings true against the metal of your dog tags sitting so close to your heart. 

“Bonnie?” Ironic as it is, Soap looks equally if not more terrified - like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Sergeant,” You respond curtly, your body acting on a harsh auto-pilot immediately. 

A way of protecting yourself from ever getting your heart broken again. You bite your tongue in a feeble attempt to stop yourself from running into the arms - and screaming all of the little things you’ve kept bundled up - of your best friend. It wasn’t really him that you saw though, because he was always the first to sweep you off your feet and whisper sweet nothings after bittersweet reunions. Whether it was five minutes or five days or five months without seeing each other, he never failed to wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the idea of never seeing him again. Five years seemed to be too much to carry over for him though apparently. 

“Please don’t do that. I know I deserve all of it and more, but please hear me out. Bonnie, please,” His voice cracked alongside your heart at his words. 

You swallow harshly, speaking after a brief moment of silence. “Don’t call me that.”

Your sharp words met their mark, making the broken man in front of you wince like a kicked dog. Baby blue eyes sending a pleading look your way as he collapsed inwards, hunching over like he wanted to seem smaller. Small enough not to scare you off, as if it wasn’t too late. 

“Seer, let me explain.”

“I haven’t seen you in person in five fucking years, MacTavish. I haven’t heard from you in two. I think it’s a little late for that,” You hiss out sharply, a glare set on him. It didn’t seem to matter to you that Price was still there, watching intently. You pushed past Soap, begrudgingly brushing up against him as you did. It would be a lie to say that it didn’t satisfy you to see the look of hurt flash across Soap’s face as you all but shoved him to the side. 

“The night you called me,” Soap started.

That stopped you in your tracks, your nerves itching to run and never look back in anticipation of his next words. You were too curious to hear what he was going to say though, a small part of you hoping it was bad enough to make a dent in the walls you held so high for someone you used to open the doors to your soul for willingly. The rest of you was simply too curious and ready to argue that you couldn’t move from your spot. 

“It was the night of one last bar run before Ghost and I were sent into deep cover for a month. A month of hell and shame that still gives me nightmares to this day, but nothing compares to the pain of having to stop talking to anyone at the chance of risking not only my life, but theirs,” Soap admits, his eyes glazing over with tears threatening to fall. Real pain infiltrating his features. It’s a sight that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since his cousin - the very same that convinced him to join the army - had passed from a mission gone wrong. 

“Why didn’t you call me afterwards? Or better yet, let me know then and there?” You quietly whisper, staring down at your feet. 

“I was a dumbass. I thought it would be easier to not tell you that night. You deserved to move on with someone that was closer to you. Someone that you could talk to every night. Someone that wasn’t me. Someone who didn’t have a chance of dying every day. As for afterwards? I couldn’t drag you back if you had managed to move on, not after all I had put you through,” Soap says, his voice shaking almost as much as you were.

“I never moved on,” You say quietly.

“What?”

“I never moved on from you. I never could. They were never you, and if anyone came close; well, you still had my heart.” A single tear runs down your face at this, despite your best attempts to stop this. 

“You’re still as beautiful as the day I lost you, love. I never meant to hurt you that badly,” Is all Soap said in response. 

“Well, you did. It doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I listened to you finally and moved on, I think you need to as well,” You throw his own words back at him, taking sick pleasure in the way his face falls. 

“Obviously we need to have a talk. Privately. Both of you. This has turned into more than a liability. Letting either one of you go is not an option either. This isn’t something I want to let turn you two into loose cannons on the field. Sorting this out is happening, and then therapy,” Price intervenes. 

“Please, let me talk,” Soap starts. “I pushed you away, and no apology can fix that immediately. You trusted me with your feelings and I threw you to the wolves. Despite the situation, there were better ways to handle it - I understand that now. I loved you then. I love you now. I loved you when we were little kids on the playground and didn’t even understand what the word truly meant. What I did understand is that you deserved better than me. Better than someone like me,” He says, hanging his head low.

“Fuck, Johnny. You really fucked up,” You murmur, finally turning to face the man you had known all your life. Had grown up next to from diapers to enrolling in the army. You looked at him, truly looked at him. Truth and resignation for whatever you deemed his punishment was written all over his face - you never forgot how to read his signs, or maybe he never changed them. 

“I know, Bonnie. I know, and I’m sorry if that means anything.” 

“I love you too, if that means anything,” You reply, a bittersweet smile on your face. Something that pissed you off to no end was that you could never stay mad at Soap, whether it was for cheating off your test or ‘borrowing’ your favourite pencil. Or in this case, going MIA for two years. A hopeful expression dawns on Johnny’s face. 

“Shit, doll, I will love you till the end of time, follow you to the ends of the earth, spend the rest of my life worshipping the ground you walk on if it means I can even be in the same room as you. I know damn well I have a lot to work on making up to you, and I won’t stop until every crack is mended in your heart, I swear,” Soap blurts out, falling to his knees in front of you. 

You couldn’t help but let out a poignant laugh at the fact that this all could’ve been easily avoided. It pained your very soul at the thought that you both loved each other, but never openly said it. The nostalgic memories flooded your mind at the possibility of how your lives could’ve been so very different if you confessed at a different time and place. 

“To think, I joined the army to do the very same for you, Johnny. I wanted to be here with you, make sure you stayed safe.” You don’t know why you admitted that, but it felt like the right thing to do.

“I wish I would have told you sooner,” He says, taking your hands in his and laying a gentle kiss on your knuckles that had fought for even a chance to be where you were right now.

“I think we both wished we did things differently,” You admit, kneeling down to cradle his face in your hands.

“Sweetheart, you have a heart of gold to not only have fallen for the mess of a man I am, enough to want to risk your life for a chance of saving mine, but to continue loving me through everything that’s happened.”

“It hurt like hell, I’m not going to lie, but I also can see where you’re coming from. I can’t say I didn’t think of doing the same when I was put in the same situation.”

“But you didn’t, and that’s what makes you a better person than I am. But I swear until the day I stop breathing, I will work to make it up to you. I’ll even let you try my ice cream like when we were kids,” Soap says, offering up a hopeful smile at the nostalgic memory. 

“You’re such a dork. I don’t forgive you, not yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this-”

“And that would be completely reasonable. I would understand if you told me to fuck off. I would leave this team and become a hermit if you wanted me to,” Soap quickly interjects.

“And, let me finish. I don’t know if I’ll get over this, ever, but I do know that I want you by my side while I try.”

“I promise I won’t ever leave you again. Not even for a mission. Not again. It would never be more important than you,” Soap swears, holding your face between his fingers just like the morning paper. 

“Now I wouldn’t say ever. . .” Price starts, but Soap sends him a glare that says enough without anything being spoken.

“But I’m sure we could figure something out if it did occur,” Price swiftly amends his statement.

“You’re something, MacTavish, definitely something,” You softly say, your heart beginning to heal. 

“But I’m your MacTavish, right?” Soap says hesitantly, almost as if he was scared you would pull what he did and run away. Not like he would blame you, never in a million years. It would be what he deserved anyways.

“But you’re my MacTavish, Johnny,” You gently say, leaning into his tentative touch.

“I think we have a lot to talk about you two, but I think it can wait until tomorrow. I still want individual therapy for the both of you, separate doctors, but I can see that you need time alone together,” Price breathes out, likely exhausted by the back and forth between his two soldiers. 

“Thank you, Price, thank you,” Soap says, meaning more than what his captain had just said. He was thanking him for dragging you here, letting him talk, allowing there to be a safe place for blame and forgiveness. 

It wasn’t going to be easy or even vaguely okay for a long, long time, but you were willing to try. Your heart was still broken. Soap would inevitably do something to bring doubts and traumas back up. But he would be there, finally, to ease your pain and reassure you that he was there to stay. That he was there to hold your heart together as the glue set up. He was there to hold you as you cried and laughed and slept and woke up and cooked. He was finally there, and he wasn’t going anywhere as long as he could help it. And that promise is what kept you by each other’s side, forever and always. 

#ao3 #cod fic #cod mw2 #fanfic #mw2 141 #cod 141 #john soap mactavish #mw2 #angst #emotional angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #drabble #domestic fluff #light angst #childhood sweethearts #soap x reader

[ruiimellowww]

Okay HI hello 👋👋

I saw ur art about Sun & Moon through a reblog and I am such a simp for those two omg so here's a rant :33

(Also if you're not comfy with this pls ignore this rant then, and I am so sry if that is the case!! Will stop immediately if you tell me to /srs)

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CAN I JUST SAY I am sosososososo in love with your desgin for the dca cuz holy shit I have never seen anything hotter. O.O LIKEEE THE HUMANOID VERSION??!?!!?? UGH soooo goooodd 🥵🥵 I love the designs and the- the little EARRINGS as well?!??! Omg sooooo cutee aaaaaa 💞💞

and-and omigosh UR ART IS SO GOOD AS WELL!?!? I straight up just wanna munch it. I am eating ur art fr. In LOVE with ur artstyle it's so yummy 😍

Anywhoooo I also scrolled through your dca tag aND *GASP* ECLIPSE?????? 😍😍AND I?? WANNA??? BE ENVELOPED????? BY HIMM??? (I feel like mans would give THE BEST cuddles on the planet!!!)

HOLLLYYYY SHITTTT thE SIZEEEEEEE

Big tall omigoshhhhhhHHH M- my brain- my heart my- mY EVERYThIng is mELTING! ! ! ! ! Literally his size just does something to me I cannot comprehend why omigosh

(*lays in a puddle on the floor*)

I can imagine sosososo many different scenarios where that height could be used aaaaa >~< <333 ;P

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Omg if you have any HCs (and *wanna* share, ofc.) about him (Or about Sun & Moon) I'd love to listen to you ramble about them??? <333

So curious about ur HCs & would absolutely love any crumbs about the dca ksskksskkdkdjdks ❤️😂

Uhm uhm first off, thank you so much I can't rlly put into words how sweet this is and I totally don't mind the rambles because me too. And also because its been YEARS since I last used Tumblr or did anything answering Ask is a bit tough for me.. MmMM

Although I don't have many HC at the moment.. I can however give you a little insight I have regarding my Human DCA :]

Moondrop (Moon) and Sundrop

- when I first designed Moon (after the game came out) he had a much wilder look to him, especially the face because I was really into the idea of him being simply insane hence the red.

- later when i got back to his design and adding colours I thought that it would be fun to make it Blue and white themed, which I actually didn't see a lot back then

- he wasn't supposed to look human even as a Humanoid, I liked to think that Sun & Moon simply had a renovated body. They are just as much Animatronics as they had always been, robotic parts and everything but with a bit of twist

- So then onto Sun.. the thing is its sad to say but I never explored much with Sun's design back then as much as I did with Moon, so I can't provide a good reference

- although I had a rough idea of how sun would look like I never quite liked the way I drew him, so he's always somewhat been stuck in this unfinished stage

- Then there was eclipse, who was my absolute FAVORITE at that time, I don't think I loved a character MORE THAN ECLIPSE EVER when I was drawing him out

- yes!! It was very much inspired by the 3D render shown here as the ref, though I did make some changes of my own to the design as well

- I had a lot in my head when I was drawing him, but the one thing that I loved most about this design still to thisq day is rhe face. The way I him to look back then was sort of a mix between my Sun and Moon designs, only leaning more towards Sun in colours and Moon in appearance with the crazed look in his eyes

The height was just a funny little thing I thought of, cuz imagine this giant fkn ahh robot just comes in here and picks you up 💀 god I would piss myself

Cough..

So in regards to the new design, I did kind of get rid of the animatronic feel to him that I had done with the DCA and his old design, all of them now look a whole lot more Human which is what I intended for

Eclipse has a few scars around his body; right forearm, left side of his torso that leads all the way up to his chest. Plus a bit of his face that is burnt which you can't exactly see because of the Black spots

Overall I like my newer designs quite a lot and has also changed a lot, this is probably the most insight you'll get out of me abt my art 😭😭 cuz I don't usually ramble this much otherwise

I might come up with some head canons at a later date, but they'll be fun thats for sure ;)

#rants n rambles #ruiis art #digital art #fnaf security breach #humanoid #moondrop #sundrop #eclipse #eclipse fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #DCA

[xinxiaogato]

— live to tell the tail

summary. you unfortunately lived in a universe where general gorou had found out ms. hina was… himself. and just your luck: gorou’s first impression of you was a crazed devotee of the ms. hina fan club, but you had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. will you live to tell the tail?

love interests. gn!reader x a watatsumi general, an inazuman vagrant, the balladeer, and the kreideprinz.

warnings. infinite pet puns, referenced character death, weapons, swearing, blood, alcohol, harassment, and mentions of war.

word count. 892

chapter twenty-two ⌇ are you shih tzuing me

꒰ 🗒 series m.list | prev. chapter | next chapter ꒱

yae miko was the bane of gorou’s existence…

…so he was a little irked to see you falling over yourself to admire her in front of netsuke no gen crafts.

“guuji yae, i never thought i would have the chance to meet you like this!” you bunched up your shoulders and entwined your fingers behind your back. gorou had only seen a crumb of this strange behavior whenever kazuha swung by, but now... it was in full force.

okay, gorou recognized that, as an editor, you would obviously be thrilled to shake hands with the editor-in-chief of inazuma’s publishing house, but this same editor-in-chief had subjected gorou to a legion of teasing, pet names, and schemes. if the multiverse existed, gorou doubted there was a universe in which he trusted yae miko because in every single one, she would have most definitely created ms. hina without his consent.

“what a cute disciple i have,” yae cooed, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “i actually have something i mean to discuss with you, reader, but there’s a more pressing matter i must tackle with your furry friend first.”

you slowly nodded. “oh… do you want me to leave and then come back?”

yae detected gorou squirming beside you. “...i think he would want you to stay,” she concurred, which only exacerbated your confusion.

“d-don’t waste reader’s time!” gorou yapped, getting more riled up than usual. every bone in his body was screaming for him to flee, but he didn’t want to show a cowardly side of him with you there. “what do you need to talk to them about?”

how strange. when did gorou and reader come to know each other? “well, if you insist. i’m certainly not short on time myself.” arms cradling her stomach, yae looked at you with a more solemn frame of mind. “reader, i assume you are out here because you saw a discrepancy between what you know and the report you received today.”

“yes…” you scratched your cheek. “...on the off chance, are you aware of what happened to the book that went missing?”

“...your author should be,” she returned, “but i suppose things were lost in communication. a year ago, mr. yamamoto had contacted an illustrator from abroad by letter to see if he’ll draw art for tickled pink.

“a copy of that book was sent along with the letter… but i have an inkling the illustrator couldn’t respond in time before the sakoku decree was put into effect.”

so this all happened before i arrived at inazuma, you confirmed, eyebrows springing upward. no wonder i was never told anything about this. “who’s the illustrator?”

a thoughtful pause later, yae answered, “hmm… you’ll chance upon him eventually, reader. the yae publishing house commissioned him for the irodori festival, so… we’ll see if he accommodates for mr. yamamoto’s commission as well.”

that response made your nose scrunch up. was it too much for yae to apprise you of this guy’s identity? especially if he was so reputable to the point that the publishing house called for his artistic expertise… you racked your brain for names hotaru dropped in the past, but, to your understanding, none of them were illustrators.

gorou studied your dismay, his tail swishing speedily behind him. this formed a disquieting smile on the kitsune's face.

“hehe… reader, care to see what sort of face gorou is making?”

“pardon?”

with a gentle finger under your chin, yae redirected your attention to gorou’s cheeks that had blossomed into a rosy color once he realized this was another one of yae’s ploys.

“what… about his face…?” your voice grew faint.

it was that feeling again. caterpillars breaking out of their chrysalises in your stomach. nerves being set on fire. an acrobat performing a ropewalk.

and yae was getting a real kick out of watching you two act like students about to confess their crushes on each other behind the school building. it was time for her to play as the angel "cupid" (in her own devilish way). “fascinating. never would i have predicted for someone other than the traveler to get under your armor, dear gorou.”

“under my armor!?” gorou screeched.

yae lazily lolled her head toward him. “not literally, but i know you, general. you keep words lodged in your throat while letting other people vent to their heart’s content, but it’s a different story around the traveler, is it not?”

gorou rubbed a distressed hand over his face to suppress the urge to cry before wildly gesturing in your direction. “reader, don’t be fooled by her cunning words! there's nothing going on between the traveler and me!”

your eyes widened by the slightest bit. right, the traveler. why aren’t they the one in my shoes right now?

“um… oh,” you uttered absentmindedly.

yae and gorou stared at you.

…oh?

…

…could you not care less about gorou and the traveler being an item?

yae pursed her lips, feeling a bit sorry.

and gorou willingly chose to speak with yae—his most formidable foe—to escape this painfully awkward conundrum. “s-so what was it that you had to tell me, yae miko?”

“...oh, yes. the publishing house declined in sales since the disappearance of its foremost columnist, so i need you dressed up as our precious ms. hina for a magazine signing event.”

꒰ 🗒 series m.list | prev. chapter | next chapter ꒱

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #gorou x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #stella writes — ! #live to tell the tail

[silveredfeathers]

So am I supposed to put a pinned post up or is it just optional?

Because I'm not sure what to put here but I see a lot of others with one... I live in Alola currently, I'm originally from Kanto, though I see Johto as my home region.

I mean I can put my trainer card post on this to make it easier to find so here's the link to that: LINK

I'm married to @trainerlynda and am dating @timetravelerpyrite.

Note to other Silvers: I AM NOT OLD

//CURRENT ARC: N/A

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//Ooc and character info below the cut.

RULES:

- Anon Hate is IC only and I'll delete anything that goes too far.

- Please provide English translations if sending asks with other languages.

- Please don't make me add rules on purpose.

---

Here's a list of ask games you can use if you want to throw an ask at Silver or me:

Headcanons (Writer)

Invasive Questions (Muse)

Pokemon Headcanons (Writer, please say it's for the ask game)

Never Have I Ever (Muse)

TM41: Torment! (Muse)

Memories (OOC Muse, don't send checkmark asks please)

Reporter (Muse, please say it's for the ask game so I can respond the right way.

Evil Team Propaganda can be sent Silv's way.

---

CHARACTER INFO:

I'm going to add more info to this and make it fancy later.

---

Rather specific tags:

#Wormholes Suck - Lore relating to Silver and Touya's past.

#Lore Crumbs & #Vague Lore Crumbs - For the most part, as it says on the tin, the post mentions something that happened before the blog due to my Silver being developed before I made the blog.

#Silver's Asks - Ask posts. This also goes for any tag that has the word asks in it (ie. #Magic Anon Asks).

#Chimera's Curse - Stuff relating to the "official" reveal of Silver being a hybrid to rotumblr.

#Mew out of the bag - [ARC] In which Gio was turned into part Mewtwo. The link is a masterlist of important posts.

#Fool's Faller - [ARC] Silver and Lyn first meet Pyrite in person here!

---

This is a blog meant to represent my version of Silver, which means he strays from canon a little bit... Okay alota bit. This blog may also cover some serious things, but also participates in the general tumblr chaos. He will only be shipped with characters my BF writes, for comfort reasons.

He is 36 years old, his birthday being 12/24/1988, which makes him 11 during the events of the Gold/Silver games. He's married to @trainerlynda and dating @timetravelerpyrite. A bunch of dimension hopping related shenanigans and other such things that have happened to him. He is also transmasc and bi. If, for some reason, you don't like that, please just block me and leave.

He is a hybrid of Ho-oh, Lugia, and Silvally, due to Kenichi's (He is Lynda's halve of the universe's Giovanni's twin brother yes I know that's probably confusing-) scientists messing with him.

Silver's Boxes (Pokemon List)

Artwork with this Silver in it:

His current pfp, drawn by me

In between form and concept drawing of the full form drawn by me

Silver and Puppy, drawn by @/yewwantstobattle

Silver helping his wife calm down after some shit happened, drawn by me

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WRITER INFO:

I am 21 and am kinda new here. Please let me know in private if I end up talking to someone bad, I likely genuinely didn't know since that info is scattered pretty much everywhere.

Follows and likes are from @zoranaroleplayhub and sometimes @messyzoranablog. Asks are primarily in anon.

Any art that I post will be credited accordingly. If it is not labeled, then it's my own work or official.

-----

OTHER THINGS:

Ho-oh and Lugia Feather Properties - A headcanon post about the abilities different feathers Lugia and Ho-oh have, since the Silver and Rainbow Wings have their own special thing going on with them. It's in the format of old explorer journal pages. These headcanons will sometimes be referenced by Silver and are here for ease of finding.

#pokemon irl #pokemon #intro post #introduction #pokemon rp #pokemon trainer rp #unreality #pokeblogging #pokeblog rp #pokeblog intro #pokeblog roleplay #Silver Info Posts

[hangeslefteye]

Vampire!Jean x Villager s/o HC'S Part1

This is way too detailed and long to be ok :D Also I might do some more parts because I GOT A LOT TO SAY ABOUT VAMPİRE!JEANN!!!!

Vampire!Jean has a big goth castle reeking luxury in the middle of the woods he lives all alone in.

Vampire!Jean does not talk to villagers living at the other side of woods at all.Even villagers don't really know if he's there to start with.Only proof of his existance is some clouded rumors from centuries ago.

Vampire!Jean thinks those villagers are unworthy mortal fools.But he can't resist spying on them once in a while to remember his past life, before turning into a vampire.

Vampire!Jean hated himself for a long time after being a vampire.He saw himself as a vile monster,as a freaky creature that should never be in the day light again even though he was turned by a pure blood.

Vampire!Jean eventually embraced being a vampire after his friends and family died before his eyes but he always stayed young.Which caused him a lot of pain and grief and resulted in his melancholic soltitude.

Vampire!Jean's guilty pleasure is to watch mortals,watching them enjoying their limited lifespan brings back his peaceful memories.He especially loves watching kids and young lovers.Seeing them 'lively' makes him forget that he's a cold blooded abomination now.He'd never admit but he's quite jealous and wishes he could live like them every.single.night.

Vampire!Jean saw you for the first time when he was mournfully stalking around again.You were dancing around a bonfire with your friends.He thought you were magical with your rusty white dress and dishevelled hair only belonging to mortals.He was star struck at the moment by your vibrancy.

Vampire!Jean carved every single detail of your face and body to his brain to picture it later on.

Vampire!Jean spends most of his time by painting mortals in the village but always leaves their facial details out.Because he does not want to be upset by remembering them once they are gone.

Vampire!Jean also has a violin he very rarely plays since back then he usually played it with his friends:Sasha,Connie,Eren,Mikasa.Now even to look at his violin pains him greatly.

Vampire!Jean began to look for you spesifically whenever he lurked among the villagers.Within this time he started to have nurturing feeling for you and interfered into your life subtly.Such as sending you some gold coins,jeweleries,flowers...You never knew where those gifts were coming from so you assumed a secret admirer amongst the villagers.

Vampire!Jean loves talking to himself when he's watching you.He especially gets loud to shame you whenever you get clumsy or dumb.This literally ended up to be his routine within time.

''Stupid mortal,Dumb girl,Even a blind man could see that,Damn embarassing,You so wouldn't like to know someone is watching,nevermind I can't even look...''

Vampire!Jean was astonished when he saw you at his door at one midnight.He allowed you to stay in his castle because you were lost in the woods and it was raining.He even invited you to a very fancy dinner he didn't even had a crumb of.He was only having a glass of 'wine'.

Vampire!Jean almost questioned your everyday life because he might never be able to talk to a human like this again.He listened everything you said very carefully,maybe a little too carefully but he has never revealed anything about himself.

Vampire!Jean offered you one of the many empty rooms in the huge castle but you couldn't really find the room he mentioned and you got lost into his not so little art gallery.You saw a lot of perfectly drawn everyday pictures with lost faces.But among them there was a picture covered up with a red shawl.You pulled it down to see a very beautiful asian woman with pale skin and jet black long hair.

Vampire!Jean was panicked for the first time in centuries when he found you in his painting room,looking at a certain picture of a long gone woman.When you asked him if she was his passed wife he grew inhumanly cold.He opened up his mouth barely to say she was just a friend.

Vampire!Jean showed you a different picture to distract from the enchantingly beautiful one.Then he showed you an another and other.He wanted to hear your opinion on all of them if this could be possible.

Vampire!Jean thought a lot about showing you your own picture around the bonfire but got rid of this idea rapidly.

Vampire!Jean came back to reality after hearing a glass shattering voice.He involuntarily saw your crimson blood mixing up with the wine he gave you.

Vampire!Jean got used to drinking animal blood and tasted a human's maybe a couple of times in ages.Your blood's smell,color and even warmth was fast to call his uncontrollable vampiristic urges.

Vampire!Jean looked at you with horror when the purple veins under his eyes got visible and his canines hurt.When you looked back at his now animalistic but still charming face you understood that the rumors old people has been spreading around were indeed true.

Vampire!Jean tried very hard to not to submit his urges but failed terribly with the presence of your blood or maybe you.

Vampire!Jean grabbed your hand gently but firmly to suck the dripping blood off your palm.Without separating his red shiny orbs from yours he licked and sucked it all like he's in a trance.He knew he shouldn't have done it and felt incredibly guilty because he couldn't stop himself yet he enjoyed every single drop of it greatly,mixed with sweet wine.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x you #jean kirstein #jean x reader #jean headcanons #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin headcanons #jean kirschtien #jean kristen

[featheredjohtolegends]

Important Info

Hello, this blog is ran by Ho-oh (that would be me) and Lugia.

To make it easier to tell who is talking, we will be signing our posts with our names, as well as putting the information in the tags.

Feel free to ask us about anything you're curious about, and we will do our best to answer.

-----

//Ooc and character info below the cut.

RULES: - Please no anon hate unless you ask or I explicitly say to send it.

- Please provide English translations if sending asks with other languages.

- Please don't make me add rules on purpose.

---

CHARACTER INFO:

I'm going to add more info to this and make it fancy later.

---

Rather specific tags:

#Rainbow Wing - Ho-oh's post tag.

#Silver Wing - Lugia's post tag.

#Lore Crumbs & #Vague Lore Crumbs - For the most part, as it says on the tin, the post mentions something that happened before the blog due to this Lugia and Ho-oh being developed before I made the blog.

---

This blog is for the Ho-oh and Lugia that come from @silveredfeathers universe. They will only be shipped with characters my BF writes (specifically @oblivionthegiratina in this case), for comfort reasons.

-----

WRITER INFO:

I am 20 and am also bad at researching who I should/shouldn't talk to because that info is normally scattered everywhere and is a mess to search for. Please let me know in private if I end up talking to someone bad, I likely genuinely didn't know. I'm also new here, so I'm not quite sure what I'm doing and need to learn as I stumble around here.

Follows and likes are mainly from @zoranaroleplayhub and sometimes @messyzoranablog. Asks are in anon.

Any art that I post will be credited accordingly. If it is not labeled, then it's my own work or official.

-----

OTHER THINGS:

Ho-oh and Lugia Feather Properties - A headcanon post about the abilities different feathers Lugia and Ho-oh have, since the Silver and Rainbow Wings have their own special thing going on with them. It's in the format of old explorer journal pages. These headcanons will sometimes be referenced by Silver and are here for ease of finding.

#pokemon irl #pokemon #intro post #introduction #pokemon rp #pokemon trainer rp #unreality #pokeblogging #pokeblog rp #pokeblog intro #pokeblog roleplay

[bluesylveon2]

Omg!! Thank you so much for sharing your art with us <3 I would like to request Levihan, prompt 05 <3 thank you beautiful human

Hi anon! Sorry for the wait but it is here! First, let me apologize that it has been a year since I wrote Levihan, so the characters may be oc. I tried to capture how they were when I was into Levihan tho. I hope you like it!

Prompt 05.  I’m a pro-athlete at a press conference and I make a comment to my buddy about you because I forgot my mic was on

Note: Modern au (Winter Olympics), fluff, potential for something more, fem Hange

Word count: 1k

Warning: not beta read, possible OC characters, and idk much about the Olympics besides what is on TV/TikTok

The infamous Ackerman siblings. Levi and Mikasa Ackerman, also known as the Monster Siblings, due to their "awakened" abilities the moment their blades touch the ice. 

Two of the greatest Olympic skaters in this generation with a gold medal in ice dancing during their debut year. They even had more medals under their belt from other events.  

Levi Ackerman was used to the attention. The lights and cameras took some getting used to at first. Now, seven years later, Levi could care less about them before their third Winter Olympics. 

The same applied to his little sister, Mikasa, who typically kept a stoic face on camera except when she won. Of course, this meant the world had nothing better to do than get into the sibling's business. Especially now, after their recent win and the gold medals to prove it is shining around their necks. 

"Question for Levi, when are you thinking about retiring?"

Levi's face remained stoic, but he wanted to groan in annoyance. Luckily, for Mikasa's sake, he refrained from it. "Not thinking about it. Next question."

The reporter looked away and turned to Mikasa to address it. Mikasa smiled before rambling on about whatever her answer was. Levi leaned back and internally thanked his sister before letting his eyes wander through the crowd.

There was a tall guy with a horse-like face, another guy with the ugliest bowl cut Levi had ever seen, and a woman eating a plain potato.

Seriously, who let her in her? Levi grimaced as the crumbs fell on the floor. He mentally made a note to increase security for the next press conference and clean that up later. Levi's eyes wandered some more as Mikasa continued about today's performance.

There was a very tall guy with blond hair covering his eyes, a woman with short banana-blonde hair, and another woman. who had-

"The most shittiest glasses I have ever seen."

Many eyes turned to face Levi, including the woman who had the supposed "shitty glasses." His eyes widened slightly as the woman's eyes met his. The woman was not the only person wearing glasses, but her oval-shaped glasses stood out to him for some reason. They were due for a cleaning, too, and Levi had to stop himself from wiping it with his handkerchief. Instead, Levi mentally prepared herself to face the stranger's wrath but was met by the woman grinning wildly. Meanwhile, Mikasa turned to see who her brother was looking at and the woman, connecting two and two together. She cleared her throat and spoke into the mic.

"What my brother means is that everyone here has nice glasses. He has a shitty way of expressing it." She said with a closed-eyed smile. Despite his sister not looking angry, Levi could sense it from where he sat. 

Levi sighed and took a sip of his earl grey tea nearby. 

This was going to be a long day.

---

Hange scribbled down her notes gleefully as she reflected on her day. First, her puppies, Sawney and Bean, were the most absolute angels she had ever met. Then she met up with her co-workers to head to the Olympics. Finally, she was noticed by Levi Ackerman. The most famous ice skater of the century! Sure, she was noticed in an abnormal way, but Hange did not mind. Her favorite celebrity acknowledged her, and it could not get any better than that.

"We are going to head out, Hange," Erwin said, and Hange smiled.

"I'm just finishing up, so you can go ahead. See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow!" Nanaba replied, and Mike nodded before leaving. 

The center hall was silent, minus a few voices around here and there. Hange was on her last note when she heard footsteps heading closer in her direction.

"Oi, Shitty Glasses."

Hange could not hide her smile, practically ignoring his insult. "Levi! Nice to meet you! My name is Hange. Do you need something?" 

Levi shuffled around awkwardly like he was contemplating what to say. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I should not have said that for the cameras to hear."

Hange laughed loudly. "It's alright. I was not offended. I was happy that you acknowledged me, though. You are one of my favorite athletes in the Games."

Levi's mouth curled up slightly. "Thanks. I appreciate that. Just don't let my sister know, or else she might do something about it."

Hange moved her fingers along her mouth and threw the imaginary zipper to the ground. "Don't worry, that will be safe with me."

"Thanks. There is something I want to do before I head back to the Village."

"What's that?"

Levi held his hand out. "Hand me your glasses."

"Okay…" Hange replied in confusion as she fulfilled Levi's request. She watched Levi pull a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wipe it along her lenses. Hange heard rumors of Levi being a clean freak, but seeing it in person amazed her. Levi meticulously cleaned and often held it to the light to ensure no dust remained. He returned the glasses back to her once he was satisfied. 

"Here. Make sure you maintain it, or else you won't be able to see."

"Thanks, Levi." Hange placed the glasses back on her, and her eyes widened in amazement. "Woah! Everything looks so much clearer now! It's like those commercials!"

Levi's smile grew a millimeter bigger. "Don't sing the song. But I have a question to ask before I go."

"Shoot."

"I have a free skate coming up. You can watch it if you want as an apology for earlier. I can even set you up with seats that are close by. You will just be sitting with my sister."

Hange grinned from ear to ear. "YES, YES, I WILL DO THAT!"

"Good." Levi dug inside his pocket again and handed Hange a slip of paper. "Here is my number. Just text me later, and I can send you the details."

Hange grabbed the paper and stuffed it in her purse. "Thanks, Levi." She glanced at her watch and shot Levi an apologetic look. "I need to get home to check on my pups. See you later, Levi!" Hange yelled as she ran off and waved goodbye.

Levi only waved back as he watched her move farther away, his heart beating a mile a minute for some reason. "See you later, Hange."

Disclaimer:Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha.

©: These stories belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

#levihan #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #levihan drabble #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman #hange zöe

[xbraveheartx]

I'm being weirdly nostalgic about last month when people were gathering lore crumbs from let's players and Carmeo/Promeo was so barebones and now they seem to slowly building to be the fanon main ship

My boys ;w;

You're making me think back to when I started my playthrough now-- I guess I was on the opposite end of the fandom, where others were trying to find content from streamers and lets players, I was binging through my playthrough like an addict pfft~

It slapped me hard in the face when after I beat Romeo (about a couple days into my playthrough??), that when I desperately searched tumblr or bluesky, no one was talking about it? I was floored like... how could they not be ranting and raving about this?? The physical change you go through, THE MENU SCREEN CHANGE MADE ME ACTUALLY CRY? Like damn, I felt like I was the one mourning. And no one was talking about it.

Granted... I beat the game in 5 days after release LOL and then beat it again in 4 more days, and again in 3. So I was definitely... ahead of the proverbial game? So I knew all I had to do was wait.

And then about a couple weeks later, I realized most of the fandom on here weren't playing the game themselves, and I realized oh... oh it's gonna drop. It's gonna hit soon. I can feel it.

AND IT DID!!! The boom of Carmeo/Promeo shippers rose up and I was so excited! And now we're all eating so well with all the content and beautiful art, and wonderful fics. They've come so far! I wouldn't say they're the main ship just yet, but... they've definitely... risen ♡ and it makes my heart so happy to see c:

Our boys have come so far!!!! ;;; u ;;; I'm definitely one of the slower artists/writers, but I have no intentions to stop creating for them. They've become an ultimate favorite so fast. This game just hit all the right beats for me ♡ The devs really created something special.

#Lies of P #Lies of P Spoilers #I don't even know if I have to keep tagging spoilers but considering people haven't beaten the game yet #I'll keep doing that LOL I went and rambled I'm sorry. This wasn't that deep but I just-- #it left me x'D I'm just so happy to see people jumping on this train and cruising with it #They deserve so much wonderful content and I hope the devs know how much Romeo is loved in this fandom ♡

[class1akids]

I think most fans can agree on the quality of MHA not being as consistent since the first war - if there was a “peak” in the writing but also mood of the series, seems it was before that first war vs the villains. But have you noticed a change in the fandom experience? Seems a lot of folks across platforms with large followings left/not as much fan work is made and shared - feels like fandom experience also ‘peaked’ before the war. Have you noticed a general change with your fandom experience?

The quality of the manga wasn’t even in the early days either. There were always better and worse arcs. Sure, people keep changing in fandom. A lot of early fic writers or meta people aren’t around anymore.

The story keeps changing and people lose interest or their fave gets sidelined and they leave. I left plenty of fandoms for these reasons and disengaged from later content because the direction didn’t go where I hoped it would. It doesn’t mean it’s bad, but as a reader you are entitled to quit something that sparks no joy for you anymore.

I think the fan content these days concentrates more on Twitter. I can’t complain - in my corner of the fandom (made of TDBK folks, TDDKs, TDBKDKs, various poly ships and Todofam enthusiasts) there is plenty of art and fics and people with incredible talent who keep creating new things. It’s a very nice place with good people who organize events and participate and constantly try new things, and run with every tiny crumb canon provides. Or if canon gives nothing, they just make their own thing.

I don’t know how it is for other ships, but the secret to fandom is not quantity but quality. Find the people who like the same things you do and engage with them.

#c1a asks

[maximaxstreasurebox]

BSD Untold Origins: Anime VS Novel (3)

Quickly trying to finish episode 1 crumbs before new ep ;w; Last part of ep 1 is the theatre! More changes, but this time it involves a lot of the side characters' uhh personalities- Note; i haven't seen the preview for ep 2

Season 4 and light novel spoilers!

Gifs © @the-chikyuu-times

Episode 1 (Part 1) - (Part 2)

Episode 2 (Part 4)

"A theater?" "Yes." The deep-blue evening sky hung over them as they stood before the rectangular theater building. [...] There was a stone monument installed in the wall with the words THEATRUM MUNDI carved into it. Ranpo frowned melodramatically. "This looks so boring." "The owner here is short on staff. If all goes well, then we can probably get you a job." "What did the client hire you for anyway?" "A death threat." Fukuzawa began to walk toward the entrance. Ranpo soon jogged after him. -Page 98

THEATRUM MUNDI or 'World Theatre' is a kind of puppetry show, it can be either comprehended as the mechanical puppet plays or viewing the meaning 'puppet' as 'everyone is playing a role in the world'. A play listed on Wikipedia example (The Great Theater of the World by Pedro Calderón de la Barca):

This particular play's form called Autos sacramentales which has human characters playing as Death, Faith, Sin, Hope, ect. aka giving each allegories a personification. (that's enough art history for today *flops to floor*)

After going through the service entrance in the back, Fukuzawa walked down the staircase to the basement, where the theater owner greeted him. "So?" the owner demanded casually. "What's your excuse for being late?"

The owner was a woman in a suit, probably around Fukuzawa's age- With her chest held out and her arms crossed before her hips, she looked up at Fukuzawa with a defiant gaze. She seemed to have a tic where she would push up her glasses every few moments or so. Her wiry black-framed glasses were shaped like acute triangles. "My apologies, Ms. Egawa." [...] "Sigh. It's fine." -Page 98

Egawa's character went through some changes in the anime version. In light novel she's more ansty, doesn't have most of the confidence/professional feeling she has in anime, easily calling Ranpo from 'uninvited guest' to 'brat', and then Ranpo quickly starts exposing her uhh relationships with people, buying clothes and stuff but not taking care of her hands and nails, necklace that wasn't a gift, about to mention her former relationship when Fukuzawa stops Ranpo.

Different reactions to Fukuzawa's question(s).

"[...] 'Angels'? 'V'? This death threat is ridiculous. I'll bet it's one of the rival theaters trying to hurt the business." -Page 99

"Whatever. Just do your job!" barked Ms. Egawa, trying not to sound flustered. "I like what I do! Ugh! I've had enough of this. I seriously just can't catch a break..." She stomped off, quickly clicking her heels down the entrance hall as she left. [...] -Page 101

Murakami ('Tokio' isn't mentioned when addressing him until the play) has more changes too. He acts more impatient, even bossy towards Fukuzawa in light novel. Anime still shows it slightly, but he sounds more tired than someone on the verge of patience (and it will actually makes sense later).

[...] He was sitting in his private dressing room while religiously reading over his lines. "Uh? Excuse you." The handsome young man lifted his head up from the script and frowned. "What do you want? It's almost showtime, and I'm reading over my script." There was no one else in the room. Perched on the edge of his seat, the young man angrily threw the script to the side. "The show is about to begin. Do you have any idea how it feels to be an actor right before a performance?" Fukuzawa didn't respond. "We dive into the world - become other people. And we practive nearly a year for this moment. If you get in my way, you're dead." [...] "I'm thirsty. Fetch me some water, will you?" [...] After a closer look, the young man appeared to be somewhat pale. Slightly dark bags hung under his nervous-looking eyes as well. -Page 102-103

"Die of boredom"...? Fukuzawa quietly covered his face. Bringing Ranpo with him was a mistake. He'd thought that leaving Ranpo in the lobby was a disaster waiting to happen, but this wasn't any better. He said all the wrong things. Surely the actor was going to blow his lid and stop talking to them entirely... At least, that was what Fukuzawa thought. "It's boring, huh? Well, if a brat like you says so, then it's gonna be," answered Murakami with a solemn expression. [...] "Hey, brat. What would make the play interesting to you?" "To me? Hmm..." [...] "It'd be pretty neat if one of the actors got killed during the performance just like the death threat said." A chill ran down Fukuzawa's spine. "Ha! An appropriately bratty answer." But Murakami cheerfully smirked. "If that's what the people want, then maybe giving it to them wouldn't be such a bad idea." [...] "Obviously, I don't plan on dying." Murakami faced Fukuzawa. "But as someone in show business, you think about these things. 'Would you take your life in order to achieve the ultimate performance?'... I would. Without a doubt. The only reason I haven't is because nobody has come up to me and offered to teach me the secret of acting in return for someone's life...yet. [...] " -Page 104-105

The dresser room scene is the same pretty much. Anime added a few details like the (possible) taxi driver's cameo from season 1, and a funny moment with Ranpo and the actress.

Fukuzawa has more inner monologuing, worrying he doesn't have the power to protect everyone in the theatre. Ranpo startles Fukuzawa out of his thoughts and events happen again similarly in light novel. The short scene when Fukuzawa looks away from the newspaper is a tiny added detail.

"An angel shall bring death, in the truest sense of the word, to the performer. - V." "Why didn't you say anything before?" asked Fukuzawa. "What good would that have done?" Ranpo replied as if he was offended. "You're all adults. Do something about it yourself. What good is asking a kid what he thinks is going to happen? Beside, everyone gets mad when I state the truth."

Was he talking about everything that had happened to him since he came to Yokohama? There was darkness in his eyes. "Seriously, adults don't make any sense to me." [...] "If a kid like me was able to figure it out, then surely you and the police already noticed a long time ago, right? My mother never got tired of telling me, 'You're still just a kid.' And I agree with her. [...]"

"You're still just a kid." Of course you don't understand adults. Because adults are smarter than you. Is that what she meant? It's not hard to understand why Ranpo's parents drilled that into his head, at least to a certain degree, and yet... [...] This kid didn't know anything. He had no idea that most people have no idea what's going on. - Page 110

Only after growing do people learn that others are different - [...]. They assume everyone thinks the same as they do, which often leads to conflict. That was what it meant to be human. Ranpo, still naive, may have fallen into that trap, but he did not deserve to be blamed. Nevertheless, Ranpo was an extreme case. Although he possessed such extraordinary powers of observation, he didn't think he was special. Why? Was it his parents' fault? Was it because he lived a sheltered life with parents who had minds that rivaled his? -Page 111

Random comment here from me is just that I really like how Untold Story/Origins expresses Ranpo's confusion through the whole book, a 'truth-seeing genius' who's living in a (fabricated) world view where everything can be deduced with logic and observation. Probably one of the reasons he's so bad with public transportation because schedules can change any time and reason. It can also count as a part of the 'adult world', where thoughts are not as expressed as an imaginary mind, the set rules real world brings in in contrast to imagination with endless possibilities.

"[...] When you sat down at the café, you unconsciously made sure to sit with the wall to your right, so you used to practice swordsmanship as well. After all, if the wall was on the left side, you wouldn't be able to swiftly draw your sword if something happened. You sat where the entrance was visible, which shows me you've seen your fair share of carnage in your lifetime. The reason why you barely make any noise even while walking on the hard theater floors is that you've trained for street and indoor combat. And the reason why you started to walk with one eye closed a little before we went through the unlit service entrance was so that you could immediately see your surroundings the moment you stepped into the darkness. In other words, you're trained for ambushes in dark places." Fukuzawa could feel his body gradually get colder, He slowly lost the feeling in his toes. His throat dried and tensed up as his palms began to sweat. "[...] A bodyguard's job is to protect people, so you wouldn't need to sneak around in the dark without making a sound. You quit your previous job, but you weren't working in the shadows to kill people for money like that hit man from earlier. You made that clear when you didn't show any real emotion when you talked about assassins. Plus, you didn't seem to be on your guard when you talked to the police. [...]" Fukuzawa felt an intense pain in his chest. His throat was so dry he could scarcely breathe. Everything was flickering red and black. - Page 111-112

"Shut up!" Fukuzawa exploded. As if his spirit were physically gushing into the room, the glass shook, the lights clicked, and the theater employee walking in the distance let out a slight yelp. Martial arts masters employed a similar phenomenon when they attached with their chi. Being right next to him, Ranpo took the brunt of Fukuzawa's unconscious yet fiery attack. After being pushed back a few steps, Ranpo fell on his rear as he if had been hit with a large invisible mallet. He blinked, still sitting, with a perplexed expression. The master class-level chi energy attack had knocked him unconscious for a second. Fukuzawa suddenly returned to his senses, albeit startled.

"Sorry... You all right?" He approached Ranpo and helped him up. "Buh...?" Ranpo was still idly blinking. Fukuzawa was overcome with sense of shame. It was inexcusable for a martial arts master to use what could be considered condensed bloodlust on an ordinary person. It was evidence of just how disturbed Fukuzawa was. [...] -Page 113

(I feel like) Fukuzawa was so much more upset than it's showed (it was still great tho, poor Ranpo;;;; ). Fukuzawa's offer to Ranpo happened right before Ranpo's observation of Fukuzawa, so the novel continues with both he and Ranpo having barely any time to recover before the bell rings, signaling the beginning of the play.

"Don't... talk about that," Fukuzawa finally managed to say. "I get it now. You're the real thing." No secrets were safe in Ranpo's presence, but he had no idea he was special, which was exactly why this wasn't the time to be getting worked up. There had to be a way to get Ranpo to recognize his abilities; Fukuzawa would need to think of something. [...] "Come on." Fukuzawa grabbed Ranpo, whose eyes were still glazed over, and headed toward the door to the auditorium. He would have Ranpo observe the stage. The boy might be able to figure something out that way. Thoughts raced through Fukuzawa's jumbled mind. He still felt on edge. Having his secret known startled him, and he was taken aback by Ranpo's powers of observation. But was that it? It was as if something else lurked in the depths of Fukuzawa's uneasiness - something he was in no place to deal with right now. - Page 114

#FINALLY RIGHT BEFORE EPISODE 2 #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd season 4 #bsd spoilers #bsd s4 #bsd light novel #bsd untold story #bsd untold origins #i didn't manage to completely avoid screenshots from ep preview so yeah cant wait to see ranpo's parents :I *sobs internally* #spoiler #spoilers #bsd anime

[tatatatatara]

20, 23, 25 for VIOLENCE

20. Part of canon I found tedious or boring

This is very personal but after chap 89 of :re, where Houji and Tatara got killed, everything is boring to me. The only thing that kept me going was just to look for crumbs of them. And with similar reason, I am not interest in the first 47 chapters of the series because they don't have HouTata.

Leaving HouTata aside, then I think the final chapter is the most boring. It really is one of the most boring and lazy endings of manga I've seen. It just has a bunch of characters with a small box explain their ending and that's it.

23. Ship you've unwillingly come around

The worst case: HouTata. I don't even know or care about them in my first reading, I think I even hated Houji for his order to kill Takizawa.

Then 5 years later, things changed, I got matured, and I've made the worst mistake in my life.

For now: UrieSaiko. I've used to prefer Mutsurie but a good friend of mine is a big fan of UrieSaiko and she managed to talk me to it. All of the Saiko art I've drawn are for her

25. Common fandom complaint

I know I'm being bitter and petty here, but let's just say I'm annoyed when the popular character's fandom complain that their blorbo "are not getting enough attention". Sir this fandom is pretty much dead no one gets enough attention

Like I know everyone has the rights to complain and wants more, but they are talking about the characters that appeared through out of the story, had character development, got a lot of illustrations and merchandises and a fair share of fancontent. Idk maybe instead of complaining they should be the one who makes content about them and make the living fandom notice them, or at least learn how to be happy with what you have. That's the secret to happiness

[mamahersh]

Scar's Wizardly Primer on How to Sell Your Friends a Road Trip: Mt. Doom Edition

I decided to get in on the @mcytblraufest band wagon, and 

so here’s my gift to @maebe-later​ !  

If you would like to read this fic on AO3, you can find it HERE.

SUMMARY: 

Scar has an idea. A terrific, amazing idea that will change the entire economic landscape of Middle Earth if he can just convince his two best friends to come along for the ride. Of course, being a "Wizard" has its perks, but unfortunately none of them are the ability to drag his friends along on adventures at a moment's notice. So in this lovely primer, Scar will show the reader exactly how to convince your friends to join you on a madcap quest all the way to Mt. Doom to sell Sauron your trash/treasures.

>In which Scar, Mumbo, and Grian devise ill-advised schemes in Cleo’s bar, and of the three the only human is the “wizard”

Scar sat by himself at an otherwise unoccupied table in the middle of Dale's seediest tavern. “Seedy” was, of course, a mostly subjective term that when applied to taverns implied a certain level of griminess be involved. However in Scar's most humble opinion, “The Bee’s Mead” was a perfectly respectable establishment devoted only to serving the most excellent of brews for a reasonable price! And it made a great place to meet up if you wanted to talk shady business, but that was besides the point! (No, it really was the point, but it helped that Scar was on good terms with the tavern owner and had a discount on any beers of foreign import. Scar claimed it was because he had enchanted the woman's back garden to growing only the finest potatoes this side of the Misty Mountains, but Cleo would only ever say that having him around attracted “the right clientele”).

All this to say, that it was the middle of the day, in a mostly empty tavern where he was awaiting the arrival of his two best friends. He could have just dragged them down to the tavern himself, but at least one of them had been busy at the time, and unfortunately not everyone seemed to understand that Wizard business was the most important thing anyone could be involved with, ever. Of course, a Wizard always arrives precisely when he means to, so it was on everyone else to actually catch up if Scar was feeling a little speedy that morning. (In actuality, Scar was still getting used to the raven postal system, and didn't realize that trying to convince Grian to meet up in person would take more time than it would take for Mumbo to receive his letter and then send one back. Due to the amount of scheduling conflicts, it had taken a couple of weeks to actually get this meeting set up, so Scar was just happy that it was happening at all. In his excitement, he had left the room he had been staying in a bit early so he could meet up with them right away.)

Speaking of catching up though, Scar hoped that his friends were having safe trips to the tavern. After all, there had been rumors that there had been an increase in bandit activity on the outskirts of Dale recently. He knew, of course, that both his friends were well taught in the art of war (far better than he ever had been anyways, but let it never be said that being a con man didn’t have its perks), so he knew that unless the unthinkable happened they would both be just fine making it to the tavern by themselves. However, Mumbo had a bit of a poor time finding things that were outside the mountain, so Scar made sure to give his somewhat directionally challenged friend very clear instructions as to where The Bee’s Mead was in town. Not that it would help matters, as directions only work if you can find the right bread crumbs in the right order. Needless to say, Scar thought he might have to ask Grian to go back out and find Mumbo once he arrived just to make sure Mumbo would find their meeting spot alright. Then again, this was not actually the first time they had all met up at this particular tavern, much less within the walls of Dale, so maybe this would finally be the meetup that Mumbo would find the tavern with no problems…

As if thinking about them had been a summons, Grian seemed to almost materialize at the table in front of Scar, and trailing behind him was a vaguely flustered B. Mumbo Jumbo. (B. of course standing for his real name: Bumbo. However after Scar tried for 20 minutes during their first exchange just trying to get his name right, Mumbo had simply capitulated to Scar’s “close enough” substitute of “Mumbo” and the rest was history). Scar waved them both over to the table he had been monopolizing, grinning from ear to ear as Mumbo and Grian sat across and to his left respectively.

“Well hello there gentlemen! Good of you to join me this most sunny of days at this lovely establishment,” greeted Scar with his usual flourish. He could feel Cleo’s amused glance from behind the bar while the two “Men” before him gave him good natured eye rolls.

“‘Lovely establishment’ is a bit of a stretch and you know it,” replied Grian, smirking while keeping his eyes firmly on Scar, though easily loud enough for Cleo to hear from the bar if she was so inclined. A muffled shout could be heard from the back, and Scar guessed from the impish grin still on Grian’s face that whatever Cleo had replied with, it probably wasn’t the kind of thing that would normally end with Grian’s good health.

“Grian!” gasped Scar with a smile. “How could you say such a thing about the best bar in Dale? I am shocked and appalled that you would say anything against our lovely Cleo’s pride and joy.”

Mumbo snorted at them from across the table, looking over Grian’s shoulder towards the bar where Cleo would still be doing her job behind the counter. “Grian, I think if you disparage Cleo’s tavern one more time this year, you’re going to get us banned from here.”

“He will not ,” replied Scar, putting on his most scandalized look. “Cleo loves me without exception, so it’ll just be you two uninvited.” (Distantly he could hear Cleo's retort of "I wouldn't bet on that").

“Speaking of invitations,” said Grian. “You mentioned when you were trying to get us to meet up that you wanted to invite us along on some ‘Wizard Business’?” The air quotes, while not actually utilized, were heavily implied in Grian’s tone.

With that, Scar flipped to his more professional facade. “Of course! Hard to conduct Wizard Business if I don’t have companions for the more important bits of business to conduct.” At this Scar leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I heard from my fellow Wizards that there’s big news from the South.” Here Scar allowed himself to be serious. “Rumor has it Mt. Doom erupted in Nénimë of this year and the Steward of Gondor had to evacuate the last of their people from Ithilien.”

Grian and Mumbo looked shocked, with a certain flavor of angry and horrified on Grian’s face that Scar suspected was from Grian’s past experiences. While Grian pulled off a very convincing human, that still did nothing for the fact that he had lived for the past 2 Ages, witnessing the horror that was the end of the Second Age in person. He didn’t like to talk about it, but Scar knew that as a general rule elves who had seen the “Last Alliance of Elves and Men” tended to be rather cagey about the details outside of their songs.

“ Orchion ...” muttered Grian finally, letting out a huff. Then, in a complete 180, he got up from the table.  "You two want some beer while I'm up?" he asked them with a grin.

“Of course! Could you get me and Mumbo some of the good stuff? Tell Cleo she can put it on my tab!” Scar called out to him. He saw Grian wave in what Scar assumed was affirmation while Cleo called out in mild exasperation: “I can hear you just fine Scar!”

Mumbo continued to shoot concerned looks after Grian, before finally sighing and asking, “do you think Grian’ll be alright?”

Scar smiled at Mumbo gently and tried to assure him with, “Grian will be just fine. Give him a few pints and he’ll be right as rain!” (A few pints was an understatement, but the less said about millenia of alcohol tolerance the better in Scar’s opinion. It had been the cause of quite a few amusing instances of out of hand drinking games that ended in some rather embarrassing blackmail material.)

Mumbo nodded along, though still seemed somewhat unsettled. “And what about Gwaeian ?” he continued.

Scar paused a moment, wishing he had a pint of ale in front of him to stare into contemplatively. His hands would have to do the trick for the moment while he considered how to answer. Unknown to most of the local Men, Grian also went by a pseudonym, though not because Scar could not pronounce it (but it was a part of the reason now at least, since Scar still hadn’t ever actually said Gwaeian’s name right).

Grian’s given name was Gwaeian, a proper old elvish name from supposedly before the sun was placed into the sky. While Grian himself was nowhere close to that old, he was old enough to have seen some terrible things in his time. So when things came up that seemed to bother Grian enough to make him cranky, or put even the slightest crack in his cheerful demeanor, Scar and Mumbo referred to that more “honest” facade as “Gwaeian”. Usually to pull him out of his funk, all they would have to do is be themselves and keep Grian anchored to the present moment, but sometimes there was nothing they could do but let Grian take care of himself and be there when he would come back.

All this to say that by asking how “Gwaeian” was doing, Mumbo was trying to see how Scar thought Grian was reacting to the information that the greatest evil of the last Age was returning to his seat of power. Did Scar think that Grian would handle the information in stride? Yes. Did Scar think that Grian would potentially push to do something stupid because of the information? Very possibly. Would a “few” beers be enough to get his head on straight for the moment…?

“He’ll be fine, though I think Grian will enjoy the whiskey he’ll sweet talk off of Cleo in the meantime,” replied Scar at last, a smile deployed to help reassure the both of them. “My guess would be that he’ll get the stuff from Rohan since we just got the trade caravans through within the last month.”

Mumbo seemingly thought for a moment, and then countered, “You say that, but if I know him, he’ll first check if there’s any West Farthing Scotch from the Shire still hidden in one of Cleo’s cellars.”

Before Scar could reply, Grian returned to the table with three very full pints of what looked like beer. “I’ve got goodies!” called Grian, smile looking cheerful as he distributed the wooden mugs and then sat down himself. A quick glance at Grian’s pint allowed Scar to note that it was not, in fact, filled with beer like at first glance, but something that Scar would bet was closer to whiskey. “Hey Grian, whatcha got there?” asked Scar, curious whether he or Mumbo had managed to peg Grian’s choice correctly or not.

“Hmm? Oh I got some “Ealu” from Rohan, though Cleo assured me that it was some kind of whiskey.” Grian replied. “Why, you want some after your beer?”

Scar waved him off. “Nah, I was just curious.” He grinned over at Mumbo, wiggling his eyebrows in challenge.

Mumbo scowled, and piped in, “Actually, I thought you mentioned last we were here that you really enjoyed the West Farthing Scotch that Cleo had managed to get from the last Shire caravan.”

Grian gave the both of them a side eye, but replied, “I did, but when I asked, she said she was plumb out and ‘didn’t think she had any on hand’. Suspicious if you ask me.”

Mumbo grinned back at Scar, while Scar took a purposeful sip of his beer. “Sounds like you finally pissed Cleo off enough to keep you from the good stuff.” Said Scar, planning on getting some for himself after their talk. Speaking of, it was now or never to bring up the topic now that Cleo knew they would want drinks, and his friends were both settled at the table. With another gulp of liquid courage, Scar got to task, sorting over what arguments he could give that would sell best his particular brand of hair-brained scheme.

Grian would either be completely on board or completely against it right off the bat, Scar knew, particularly if it meant traveling closer to peril instead of away from it. Mumbo on the other hand would be generally against the idea on principle until both Grian and Scar ganged up on him. But what crazy idea would be so potentially divisive one might ask? Glad you asked random brain snooper! The moment Scar had heard that Sauron was back and so was all of Mordor, he wanted to go to Gondor to see the glow of the newly erupted volcano. And potentially see if he could get past Osgiliath to see the foothills of the Black Mountains and maybe try selling some wares to the “locals”. Which was a truly terrible idea, but honestly you only live once as a Man and a Dwarf… and probably Elves, but Grian had some stories that put that last one into question. (Listen, how was Scar supposed to know that potentially more than one Elf had been offered an opportunity to be reborn in Middle Earth? He just assumed like most who knew anything about Elves that Glorfindel was it but noooo .) HOWEVER, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ as Scar liked to say!

“So… Mordor,” started Mumbo, glancing rapidly between Grian, Scar, and his drink.

“Mt. Doom erupting more specifically,” replied Scar, smiling his most likable salesman smile.

“What do you want us to do with that information though?” asked Grian, giving Scar a deceptively disinterested glance.

“Well, as a Wizard ,” began Scar, earning an eye roll from Grian and a sigh from Mumbo. “I figure that me and some companions should check on Gondor, confirm some rumors, maybe get some sightseeing in while we’re there…”

With each word, Grian squinted harder at Scar while Mumbo (surprisingly) looked like he might actually consider the offer. “ And ,” Scar continued, “what’s not to love about Gondor? We’ll be arriving probably around Yule, which in the South I’ve heard is a lovely time of year!”

Grian gave a small twitch of a grin. “Well, you’re not wrong about that .”

“ And ,” continued Scar, “I’m sure we could do some extra sightseeing on the way down, see some new elves, learn how to ride horses…” Here Scar wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, hoping the added silliness would perhaps sway Grian towards the idea. What he hadn’t quite accounted for was Mumbo’s tastes it seemed.

“Now listen here Scar,” Mumbo stated. “I like Grian as much as the next Man, but you have to remember that just because I like the one elf, doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy walking into a… a nest of them!” Grian snorted into his drink at this, seemingly quite amused at Mumbo’s inherited general distaste for ‘pointy eared tree shaggers’. “I liked your plan quite nicely up till that point, yeah? So as long as we aren’t making any sudden side quests for, oh I don’t know , The Golden Wood! I think we should be good.”

Grian gave Mumbo a curious look. “So you have no problems with us potentially walking right up to the Black Gates on Scar’s whimsical quest, but Eru help you if you have to put one iron-shod toe into Lórien.” Grian rolled his eyes and went back to grinning. “Yeah, sounds fair. I’d rather not run into anybody from the Golden Woods myself.” He curled his lip a smidge. “Rather uptight, that lot. Act like they’re older than the hills, some of them.”

“If neither of you wanted to make detours on our trip to Gondor, you could have just said so,” pouted Scar, though his grin countered any seriousness. “But I’m not hearing any objections yet either! In fact, sounds like Bumbo Jumbo is already on board!”

“It’s just Bumbo, thank you,” muttered Mumbo half heartedly into the lip of his pint at the same time Grian retorted, “I do have objections, I just figured I would defend Mumbo’s poor sensibilities first.”

“But Grian , what could possibly go wrong?” asked Scar. “You’ll have a wizard with you after all, and when have I ever let you down?” Grian gave Scar the stare that that comment deserved.

“While I disagree that nothing could go wrong,” interrupted Mumbo. “I do like the idea.” Grian shot him a shocked look, while Scar looked a bit startled.

Scar, when planning insane schemes, did not normally garner support from Mumbo. Generally, Grian would whine a bit, before capitulating and going all in on whatever plan Scar had concocted this time. Then Mumbo, because he was their friend, and figured that at least one of them should be sensible about things, would come along to make sure nothing blew up. However, the reality would end with the three of them causing indiscriminate chaos and then fleeing the scene before they could be caught. There had been one or two instances where Mumbo had managed to cause more chaos than Grian, but it was definitely a rarity. All this to say that Mumbo supporting something as insane as going to the most evil place on Arda currently and “sightseeing” was fairly out of character for him.

“And why, praytell, is this particular brand of insanity tickling your fancy?” asked Grian, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Ah well, that is to say…” muttered Mumbo, staring furtively into his empty flagon. “I, um, guess it just seems like the thing to do?”

“That makes no sense,” deadpanned Grian.

“Well, haha, um…”

“Mumbo…” gasped Scar in a scandalized fashion. “Do you not know either?”

“I, I do!” replied Mumbo, looking somewhat flustered. “It’s just… The mountain’s back to operational capacity, and I’ve been putting off questing outside the mountain for a decade or so because of wanting to help get the mountain back up and running again.” He gave a timid shrug, and Scar wondered if Mumbo didn’t think they would understand, despite having been his friends for nearly 2 decades at that point.

Scar could remember when they had made the decision together to return to Mumbo and Grian’s respective homelands, having been questing in and around Bree for a few years at that point while Scar integrated himself into the unlikely duo. The news had just broken that the Lonely Mountain was reclaimed and calling all available able-bodied dwarrow to her Halls to serve the new King of the Dwarrow. Mumbo had heard the call and had broken the news to them that he would be leaving as soon as he could to try and make it through the Misty Mountains pass before it snowed in for the season. Well, unbeknownst to the both of them, Grian had been a Wood Elf this whole time and decided that he would join Mumbo to “visit family” in Mirkwood, and seeing as Scar was basically family at this point, was invited along for the ride. Of course, Scar could not say no, so off they went together to see the otherside of the Misty Mountains (for the first time for two of them, and the first after a very long absence for Grian).

“Ah yes, that ever mercurial feeling: Wanderlust ,” sighed Scar, sending a dramatic wink across the table to Grian.

“I-I mean, well…” sputtered Mumbo as Grian broke into chuckles.

“Well that explains that then,” finished Grian, grinning back at Scar. “And sure, since it sounds like I can’t leave you two to your own devices for more than a moment, count me in. This insanity might as well be old hat by this point.”

“You won’t regret this Grian!” exclaimed Scar, warmth filling his chest as his friends, his family, supported him. He truly did not deserve such wonderful friends as these, and if there was one thing he could do well, it was keeping his friends safe despite the odds.

Grian laughed in response, and Mumbo joined in, before finally Scar couldn’t contain himself and joined in as well. Scar could feel the fond look they were getting from Cleo, and the annoyed looks from some of the regulars who had been drifting in throughout their conversation.

Eventually, they all settled down, and Grian asked the question that Scar had been hoping for all night. “So Mr. ‘Purple Wizard’, have you got yourself a map for the trip yet?”

“Why would a Wizard need a map Grian?” asked Scar, as innocently as he could pull. “My sense of direction is impeccable, and as long as we head straight south, we should get there in no time!”

“You didn’t think to find a copy of a map to Gondor at least?” pleaded Grian, while Mumbo took another hefty swig of his mug of beer, and looked morosely down at the now empty wooden pint.

“Oh come on Grian, we’ll be fine! We made it over the Misty Mountains with no problems the first time around, didn’t we?”

Grian looked like he was debating whether to launch his pint at Scar’s torso or not. “If by fine you mean up three scars and down 20 Castar, then yes we were just peachy .”

“We didn’t get lost though, did we?”

Grian fumed in silence, but Scar was not wrong. If there was one thing Scar could pride himself in, it was his ability to find his way into and out of trouble with usually only a scar at worst to show for it. (There was a reason his name was Scar after all).

“Anyways, I figured once you guys were on board we could quick pack up and head out by the end of the month.” Here, Scar allowed some of his sincerity to leak through. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to convince you both to come with.”

“I mean, the idea of going sightseeing of all things in an occupied Ithilien seems rather daft, but I would very much like to see Minas Tirith,” jumped in Mumbo.

“And we might even have time to see the sea,” added Grian, a wistful look on his face.

“Wait… Isn’t the end of the month in like 6 days?” asked Mumbo.

“I figured you both were mostly packed from your trips to Dale, since I know you both like to take a week off for these meetings. All you both should need is enough supplies for a few weeks on the road till we hit the next settlement, and I will have the rest covered!"

The table sat in silence for a moment till Grian finally stated, "please don't tell me you bought a whole wagon with horses when you weren't even sure we would be coming with you."

"I didn't buy a wagon and wagon team for my wizardly wares without being sure about you both coming along with beforehand?"

"SCAR!"

"Listen, I thought that I should be prepared, and besides, I've been wanting to get a wizardly wares wagon for a few years now. I had enough saved up and figured this was the perfect reason to go ahead and get a few things."

Mumbo, listening closely to the conversation, made an 'aha' as pieces seemed to slide into place. "Scar," he said suddenly. "Are you trying to find a reason for us to help you start your traveling salesman business by dragging us on a quest to the gates of Mordor so you can try and sell the greatest evil of our Age some river stones and a custom cloak???"

Grian looked simultaneously incandescent with rage, scandal, and joy as he looked at the progressively embarrassed Man. "You didn't ," he breathed.

"Why Mumbo, I would never ," replied Scar, a mischievous grin hidden under layers of embarrassment and honest worry that this was going to be a deal breaker.

"You did!" Shouted Grian as Mumbo in the same moment called out laughingly, "You would!"

Scar sputtered, and continued. "Even if I was , I doubt I could sell anything past Osgiliath anyways. Orcs are terrible customers, and I doubt I could convince the Dread Powers to hear me out if I wanted to sell him some magical tools to make an even better Ring of Power." The combined deadpan stares prompted Scar to add, “ but , if I did sell to even just the orcs, I’m practically guaranteed that I can sell anything to anyone!”

“Well…” muttered Mumbo while Grian screeched, “that isn’t how any of this works!”

Grian continued, “no Scar, you will get yourself killed this time!”

Scar looked bashfully down at the table. “I figured I wouldn’t if you both came along…” Here he looked back up at Mumbo and Grian. “For luck, seems you’ve both agreed to come along to make sure that doesn’t happen!”

Both Grian and Mumbo gave Scar a long suffering look, though Grian’s had quickly morphed into a smile. “I guess we have,” replied Grian.

Mumbo chuckled at this, and added, “only you two could convince a Dwarf to travel half-way across Middle Earth to knock on the Dark Lord’s front door to sell him trinkets.” After a moment he finished with, “Or anyone quite frankly.”

“Aw you love us,” replied Scar, also grinning from ear to ear. “So what say you both to celebrating tonight, and then getting our packing started tomorrow?”

“Ah, we will need to delay another week, because I will some affairs to get in order back at the Mountain,” interjected Mumbo. “But yes, that plan sounds otherwise perfect. How about you Grian?”

Grian shook his head. “I can stay with Scar while you’re gone. I’ll help him make sure to pack things we need and not just stuff the wagon full to bursting with his ‘magical crystals’.”

Scar made an offended scoff at this while Mumbo grinned back and nodded. “Sounds like we’re in agreement for the foreseeable future. Shall we?” Grian continued.

Scar and Mumbo nodded, and as one they lifted their pints and called out to Cleo for refills. Scar smirked as Cleo screeched at them to “hold their damn horses” and ended up sending her best friend, local bard, and occasional part-time helper Joe to see to their refills. From then on, the evening passed in a pleasurable haze of friends, warmth, and drinks; Grian and Mumbo eventually devolving into a very ill-advised drinking contest that Scar very happily started a betting pool on the moment they started. The night ended with the expected win from Grian, a drunkenly animated Mumbo as he explained how the internal heating system in the Mountain worked, and a significantly richer Scar. They all then went to their rented rooms, and Scar went to bed that night happier than he could ever remember being, and excited for the weeks and months to come.

-THE END-

End Notes:

Thank you for joining me on this crazy little one shot! There were a lot of little details that I had to cut to keep the story moving as well as it did, so I'll be posting a separate addendum with my notes from the creative process that help flesh out the world building. I hope maebe-later enjoys the gift! They were very generous and had a lot of wiggle room, so I hope I didn't go too far off the beaten track with this. :)

I doubt I will continue this in any capacity, but if you're curious how a theoretical sequel would work, in my notes I put: "And they all lived happily ever after and had lots of really fun and stupid adventures as they went on their sightseeing tour of Gondor, the Brown Lands, and the edges of the Black Mountains." As a post script I would add that Scar never did quite sell Sauron anything, but that he probably sold some orcs some of his "magic crystals".

#mcytmblr summer au fest #mcytmblr au fest #maebe-later #mcyt #hermitcraft #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #mumbo #scar #hc au #lotr #lotr au #this is such a weird crossover #I had entirely too much fun making it tbh #I think I spent equal time researching worldbuilding as I did writing the fic lol #It kinda shows I'm not that good at getting mumbo grian and scar in character #I've been out of the fandom for a couple of months #RIP

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Are you having fun in the Steven server? I recently got done leaving dead servers or ones that seemed a bit iffy so I promised myself no more unfamiliar servers but dang if I’m not turning my head to the sound of Steven simping and “maybe this place will be nice” not asking for a link just yet, I’d DM you for that, but so far how would you rate the environment? Is there a rules page? (See, I personally don’t mind what anyone writes, even if it’s not my cup of tea because I’d often will and can read just about anything and find something to appreciate in the writing, major literature fanatic here, I run on neutrality rather than ship or content bashing. Buuuuut recently a server I’m in is very much not like that, so you could say I’m worried about getting cancelled by a bunch of highschoolers if they find out. I’ve seen how they talk about fics. It’s so silly, I know. Personal issue, dw. I’m not going to censor myself on complimenting writing for what it is even if a bunch of kids might label me a weirdo (which is weird in itself as it’s in the 16-22 age range making some of them older than me yet I’m the one with the fandom old-soul who remembers the Old Days of fic writing and why Ao3 is a blessing that shouldn’t be shut down just because some people don’t know how to filter tags) sorry for this ramble, I’m just trying to muffle my lack of impulse control to have some crumb of preservation so I don’t have regrets later 😭 maybe one day, love my little guy, love seeing everyone’s varying ideas, especially love positive creator communities, hope everything is going well for you all!

Hi there! Thank you so much for reaching out! I'm having a great time in the Steven server! I mean, I'm biased, but it is going well so far. There is a rules page and a server guide, as well as a suggestions channel, and I'm trying my best to be aware of what's going on at all times to help direct conversation to necessary channels. Though, I will say that, for the most part, everyone has been respectful towards the rules. I'm trying to make this a safe space to talk about Steven for EVERYONE, so there are specific channels and threads for discussing ships, fics, art, headcanons, etc. Harassment and bullying will not be tolerated in this server, and my DMs are always open if anyone is feeling uncomfortable or needs to address an issue.

#steven stone