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imminent-danger-came · 8 months

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continue being a little mean to toh fans please it is really irritating how some act like its got the best writing of any modern cartoon

Daawwwww I don't have it in me. TOH fans love it for a reason, and there are legitimately good moments! It's just not the most complex or well-written show out there—which it doesn't need to be—but I also totally get your exhaustion. It gets tiring seeing people praise it so highly over and over again when it's just like...fine. It didn't do nothing but it also didn't do something, you know? It's main couple is cute and queer, but that's pretty much all there is to them. It has a fun cast of characters, but they all tend to fall into archetypes. Luz is a sweet main character, but she doesn't have any real flaws and kinda takes a back seat to Hunter and Eda (the white people lol). Her foil with Philip was interesting...but then they kinda backed off and went the "you and Belos are nothing alike" direction.

((I'm also going to answer this anon with another: ))

And It's not that an unsympathetic villian is bad, or that Belos would even be sympathetic with added backstory, it's just that...there were a lot of interesting things to explore with his character that were left hanging.

Like, while he's definitely not at all a good person, it's intriguing that he would bother to recreate his brother over and over again knowing that each time the grimwalker was going to betray him. It's intriguing that he was even willing to kill his brother to begin with (though Caleb was super underutilized in general). Like, you can give a villain depth without justifying or victimizing them (hi Finnegran from tdp, I'll also add Spider Queen & LBD here). So it just feels like a missed opportunity all across the board. It's still surprising to me that we got a confirmation on the Wittebane backstory through an unrelated background character, rather than Philip himself (who had literally possessed a main character, and mindscapes had already been well-established....the pieces were all there me thinks).

And obviously it's like, people can love something despite it's flaws, and they can cherish it for the good it has, but they still don't need to praise it as an ultimate form of media, you know? We don't need to pretend toh was this dark and complex story—it was just a story a lot of people liked and resonated with. Which I'm glad it's there for those people, and I'm glad there are options when it comes to queer pieces of media!

That said the show with the best writing of any modern cartoon is The Dragon Prince (streaming on Netflix).

#Monkie Kid while very good is still not that good. I'm sorry lmk. I give you 2nd place. In my heart <3 #Though we'll see. If s5 (or beyond) brings back some stuff from s1 the writing might just be that tight #(aka the skeleton key being given to MK in 1x08 & also the 1x01 seal)#Anyways I feel like I've been too much of a hater recently #but gahhh. toh just did not get that deep. it's like fake deep #Let me explain my thoughts:#Lilith cursed Eda. Spent years trying to force Eda into the coven system to undo her own mistake.#Only to then learn that Belos was never going to heal her sister. And does this impact Eda and Lilith's relationship in any way? Not really #Like yeah sure their relationship improves after Lilith leaves the Emperor's coven.#But I can't help but feel like that situation got boiled down to ''Lilith had a good reason for it so we forgive her :p'' and I'm like NO #WHERE'S THE DRAMA #THAT WAS KINDA SUPER FUCKED UP OF LILITH. A LIFE LONG CURSE THAT SHE GAVE HER SISTER. AND WE'RE GONNA LIKE #GLOSS OVER THAT????#tis not story telling for me. At least not any more at this stage in my life.#asks #toh critical

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romance-rambles · 13 days

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THE QUEENLY TRADITION OF KILLING BEARS AND SAVING PRINCES

In the very same forest where his parents met, Ayn reminisces about them with you. The conversation gets derailed long before you decide to tease him about the Sword of Transcendence—only to get teased in turn.

— pairing: [godheim] ayn alwyn x little painter/you

— word count: 1.3k

— tags: established relationship, referenced pregnancy, takes place after an AU of courtyard reunion/crown's weight where they were together the entire time

— note: i've had this in mind since the scene where you kill a bear. it's the writer's fault for making parallels so easy to draw.

— return to lbc masterlist | series: none

"THIS—" AYN SAYS AS THE sound of the careful footsteps and rustling grass draw closer to his location, underneath the very same tree that witnessed his parents' first meeting. "—is where my parents met. It took a while for me to find it, but I can finally show it to you."

In lieu of a greeting, his queen gazes upon him with a displeased expression. "I could've been an assassin."

Rather poetically, your long, messy hair has been tamed into a well-behaved plait. But you are not his mother, and he is not his father. There should be no tragedies in your future, and Lars will once more sit on the throne only if Ayn's own child refuses it.

"I knew it was you." He watches the ends of your red bow—the same shade as your dress—peak out shyly from behind your head. "Do you not trust my instincts?"

You don't respond. Instead, your gaze travels to the initials carved onto the tree trunk, where the E of his mother's maiden name has been overwritten by the A of his father's, and his own, surname. Crossing the remaining distance, you neatly sidestep his hand and places yours over the crude outline of the heart surrounding them.

"She saved him from an assassin," you murmur, voice distant and guilty.

At once, he knows where it is your thoughts have wandered to. Ayn shifts, reaching out his gloved hand to you—an offer, to do as you please, whether it's to pull yourself down, or pull him up, or to simply hold on.

"This is where Father meant to give her the Sword of Transcendence," he explains, once you take his hand and sit down. His voice has grown softer, and you take it as your cue to rest your head on his shoulder. "But he changed his mind after one of his knights stopped him and made a ceremony of it."

Even though you've heard this story before, you seem as enchanted by it as you did the last time—and all the times before that. You adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and when he looks over at you, he sees nothing but pure affection in your gaze.

Birdsong accompanies his story, as does the gentle rustling of the leaves. Closing his eyes, he remembers the days where his parents would narrate it for him. As a child, before he began to properly notice Father's treatment of Mother, he found it to be nothing less than a perfect fairytale.

Now though, most of the magic has been scrubbed off, leaving behind only a bitter taste on his tongue he associates with the life Mother could've had without him and his father. Ayn only hopes his own child won't feel the same way about him.

"And that was when he asked her to be his bodyguard," he finishes, repeating exactly what his father would say at the end.

"We met in a ballroom," you lament, after your obligatory cooing. The longing in your usual comments that you don't is especially pronounced today. "No carving hearts into meaningful trees for us."

He smiles faintly, angling his head towards you. "The ballroom is much closer to the palace than this tree."

"It doesn't have to be a tree," you murmur. Before he can comfort you, though, you spring back to life, lifting your head off his shoulder with a faux thoughtful look on your face—and he pays the price for it, your shoulder bumping against his, with a fond sigh. "But, you know, I've saved your life before. I've even killed a bear before. Even if we don't have a tree or a flower field—"

Lips stained red, slanted into a mischievous smirk. A slight tilt of your head. Gloved fingers tucking the longer strands of your bangs back behind your ear. You lean in close, until all that's left in his vision from the scenery around them is the golden hue your hair takes under the gleaming sun.

"How come I don't have a fancy heirloom sword to pass down?" you ask, clearly anticipating your turn at teasing him.

"You're right," he acknowledges easily, a bit unwilling to play along. Ayn cups his chin in such a manner that it covers up the small smile playing on his lips, and commits himself to the act. "I should've prepared some sort of gift."

The smirk on your face drops as he taps the handle of the Sword of Transcendence. A panicked gaze lingers on him, on his hand, and it isn't long before your emotions manifest in a more...physical manner.

"Wait, no—" You straighten up, hurriedly putting some distance between them, and perhaps Ayn is a terrible person for it, but he can't help but silently guffaw. "That was a joke. That's your mother's sword! You can't—you can't give that to me."

When it becomes clear that your ramblings have no end, he reaches out and curls his fingers around your wrist. The act silences you immediately, even before his patented snarky comment. You wrap your own hand around his, and your fingers slot into place in the spaces left between.

"Why not? I thought you wanted a 'fancy heirloom sword'." he quotes.

Though you hardly look threatening with the rosy hue of your cheeks clashing against your scowl, he can admire your commitment to the role. "I'll take another one."

"I don't have another one," Ayn responds innocently, taking delight in the way your glare intensifies.

"Make another one then," you fire back immediately, crossing your arms. A pout forms on your lips, before your hand slips out and cradle your still flat belly. "Your father is such a bully. Don't let him fool you, okay?"

He bites back a smile and leans closer, closing the gap between you and him. "I should be saying that about you."

You seem to understand what he's after. With a snort, you make the first move, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. But despite that, when you pull back, you're still holding onto your grudge.

You even go so far as to throw his own words back at him.

At that moment, he has a sudden, vivid vision of his own child—your child, separated by gender only through the length of their ambiguously-colored hair and nothing else—stirring up trouble. Usually, in idle moments, when his thoughts wander to the future, Ayn sometimes frets about what they'll take from who. From whether red eyes and deep purple hair is a better combination than the opposite, to whether they'll favor a paintbrush or an instrument, and anything in between.

But their affinity for trouble-making is something he's never budged, and right now, Ayn is certain your features lend themselves best to trouble-making.

Narrowing his eyes fondly at his wife, he says, "We can let the little one decide then."

The expression on your face as you think over his offer would fool anyone into thinking you were deliberating over something serious. You purse your lips, taking the time to exaggerate your exasperation, and declare:

"That would take years. So, I'll let you off, just this once."

"Oh, how can I ever repay you?" His voice is dripping with amusement. Ayn has the smile to match, which only widens as he pretends to have found the answer. "I know—"

"Not a sword."

Ayn bursts into laughter—the kind that leaves him breathless, with an aching stomach and a curse that only prolongs his condition. Soon, you join in as well, and then both of them are stuck in a loop, able to afford only a slight lull of peace before something or the other sets them off.

"A kiss?" he wheezes, once his laughter begins to die down. For real, this time.

"That—"

You don't hesitate to take him up on his offer. But this one is not a merely peck. He has enough time to pull you into his arms and onto his lap. Enough time to think about what it is that you taste like. Fruit, mostly.

When you pull back, both hands still cupping his cheeks, your eyes are glimmering with delight.

"—I'd say, is acceptable."

#fics by aya #for all time #for all time x reader #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #lbc ayn #lbc ayn x reader #ayn alwyn #ayn alwyn x reader #little painter #lovebrush ayn #rambles from here on ->#hi i'm feral over the fact that the moral of ayn's route in regards to you seems to be “don't repeat your predecessor's mistakes.”#don't get so blinded by love that you forget that you are partners first and foremost—trust each other implicitly but advocate yourself too #but also maybe don't send your queen away in times of trouble like an idiot??#anyway like i'm not even an ayn stan but all of the boys are just so well-written that i can't help but write for him anyways?#except cael—he scares me because i'm 90% sure i can't do him justice but like i also have barely any cael cards sooo...not all my fault!!#(for reference i started end of march)#fun fact: i almost didn't finish this because of the ending of his route but then i watched crown's weight and went “oh”#so here we are—all because feina and mc both killed a bear and saved a crown prince

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mitsundere · 1 year

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spent 14 hours for a silly idea, so have a clean version of the panel which inspired it all:

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orphicauroras · 8 months

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Each one of their requests had gotten more and more absurd, and Nesta might have felt like they were exploiting the House had it not been so.. exuberant in answering their commands. Adding creative flourishes

I just love how the House spoils Nesta, Gwyn and Em.

I can definitely see them discussing smutty books and in the middle the house just dumps it's favorite and joins in the discussion. From then on Nesta starts recommending the book she reads to the House and the House in return.

I can also see the House helping Gwyn in writing the Valkyrie book. It would provide a safe space for Gwyn to write without anyone bothering her. Nesta and Em would find her munching on cakes besides books about Valkyries courtesy of the House.

The House would provide Emerie with books of farming and Illyrian history. And every time Em visits she would find a small bag of spices beside the table with some seeds.

@officialvalkyrieweek

#kinda rushed cuz I didn't have time to properly plan anything lol #no longer free since my masters just started #but it's my babies' week #gwyneth berdara #nesta archeron #emerie of illyria #acotar #acosf #gwyn #nesta #emerie #if there's any mistakes just ignore my brain is dead currently #also don't know for sure which day it is but I'm just swinging it lol #Valkyrie week

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sing-you-fools · 6 months

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the fact that Aziraphale, immediately upon hearing about the changing jukebox records, jumps to "that sounds like a miracle!"

implies that one night, maybe in the mid-70s? he and Crowley were in the Bentley. one of Queen's early hits came on the radio and Crowley said something along the lines of, "you know, i quite like this band," and Aziraphale heard something along the lines of, "i could listen to nothing but Freddie Mercury's voice for the rest of eternity and i would be happy" and was like. sure babe <3<3<3<3<3

#a totally understandable mistake #who wouldn't be happy listening to freddie sing forever #my car also only plays queen #no miracle required just common sense #(jk it also plays broadway)#(and audiobooks)#(i feel like i'm a very specific stereotype but i'm not sure what)#good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #freddie mercury #sing-you-fools

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factorialsotherfandoms · 2 months

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In The Valley

TW: discussion of self-harm, reckless behaviour, various angsty discussions, Forever appears for a bit in the middle

Cellbit runs through the streets, the undead giving chase. Unthinking as they are it does not matter if he twists and turns, still they chase. Clawed nails catch on his arm, teeth shortly following; he reaches out with his mind, grasping the small spark of life in the zombie and crushing it between metaphorical teeth. It is not as satisfying as an actual bite, but he snarls as he twists the aether around it nonetheless.

The zombie collapses. Cellbit feels his energy drain further, and keeps on running.

Somewhere, something, if he can just find... He doesn't know, he has no idea, just the certainty that if he stops he dies.

If he dies, he never learns if his best friend survived. He never finds out if he was good enough.

That is enough to spark him into further action; he pulls a long dead radio from his pocket, desperately jamming the batteries in and out until it sparks to life. He has no idea how far they are, no idea what they are doing, or even if the message will send. He knew he should have changed the batteries months ago, but things happened, and stuff occurred, and now...

He preset the radio to their old unit's wavelength, and prerecorded it with a message. He does not know what frequency Forever now uses, but it is all that he has.

Cellbit has no idea if any of them are even alive, if the aliens have caught them or worse has occured. The drops he leave... They will never be found, not before he is torn limb from limb and dies. He has no way better to contact Forever, no idea if Felps lives, and Tazercraft vanished from the face of the earth.

Screaming in frustration he jams the batteries in again.

The screams draw more zombies, but the radio sparks to life.

It lights up just long enough for Cellbit to the button and a light to go on, but blinking a few times before dying again.

Cellbit keeps running.

He tries again.

Swearing and cursing and desperate he keeps trying to make the radio work, far beyond his skillset but all that he has. In his distraction, however, he does not see the dead end.

Not until the wall is in his face, and the zombies are at his back.

He takes one breath, and a second.

This is it, then.

Ten years undercover, twelve of trying to do good, only for it to end like this. The cannibal, alone and friendless at the last, torn limb from limb and feasted upon by that which was once human.

It's fine, though, was Cellbit ever really a person? It was nice pretending, while it lasted, those few years of tricking himself into thinking he was capable of change, capable of loving and being loved.

He should have known that goodness has no place for people like him.

Cellbit reaches out again, pushing himself to exhaustion and beyond. He might be about to die, and his attempts to call help have been thwarted by broken technology, but he refuses to merely give in.

A Child of the War, Cellbit does not know the meaning of giving in.

He thinks of his mentor from his earliest memories, he thinks of Pac and Mike and Forever and Guapito, and he thinks most of all of Felps. He draws them to mind, pulls strength into his soul, bolsters himself as best he can. No idea if they live, if they died, if they turned traitor or stayed true. Still he thinks on them as he remembers them, and reinforces his soul with love.

No weapons, no armour, nowhere to run and nowhere to escape, nothing but his clothes, his mind, his soul, a dead end, and three hordes of zombies closing in.

Cellbit feeds his soul with the life force of zombies and with love, pouring his hopes and dreams and everything he could have been into it. Red spirals out, leaking into the floor, forming a cloud of haze and dust. Zombies drop dead as they touch it, and yet still they come; it surrounds Cellbit in a small arc, keeping the undead away but draining him second by second by second.

It is too late.

Exhausted, desperate, weak - no matter what he tries to drag up from the depths of his tortured soul, Cellbit cannot hold it forever.

Still he tries, as long as he can, trapped and alone but refusing to let them win.

What a death, to be eaten alive.

At least if he burns his soul out first, he will not be conscious to feel it.

He holds until his vision blurs, zombies scrambling over one another's corpses to reach him.

He holds until his vision blackens, everything closing in.

He holds until his body crumbles, fallen and unaware in the dust and the grime.

---

Cellbit wakes up neither alone nor with a zombie, but rather with someone warm pressed into his side. Hair brushes against his cheek where they have pressed their face into his neck, and arms are wrapped around his chest.

His body wants to stay sleeping, his soul screaming with exhaustion, but...

Bed beneath him, pain, warmth, a human being at his side.

He needs to be awake, to assess, to find out what is happening here.

Dragging himself awake is like trawling through old treacle; not just though sludge, but with sugar in there crystals too. His eyes are heavy and his body is wrong, but he /needs/ to know.

The hair on his cheek is dark, and tightly curled. He... knows it.

"... Felps?" he asks.

Somewhere above he hears a muttered 'of fucking course', but he zones it out. Whomever it is is unimportant as Felps slowly untangles himself, and sits up.

He does not go far, just enough that they can make eye contact. Felps smiles with water eyes, and calls him "Cellbinho."

It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream, or a dying hallucination; the Felps before him looks not a day older than last they met, the only mark of ten years being exhaustion beneath his eyes, and that his hair has grown back.

Or maybe this is death, and Cellbit dragged Felps to hell with him.

Cellbit does not say anything else, he dares not. He barely dares to breathe at the sight before him, something worthy and that he condemned all the same.

But Felps does move. His fingers are thinner - frailer - than Cellbit remembers, but they grab at his cheeks, manipulating his face as Felps checks on him just like every other time he has been hurt.

"Are you okay?" Cellbit asks him, because of everything... Of everything in the world, what matters most is if Felps is okay. If... This Felps cannot be real, but maybe he can answer it anyway. "Did they find you? Did- Did you escape? Please, you're not dead - you can't be dead, I promised-"

He cuts himself off before a sob can escape him.

Felps' eyebrows twitch ever so slightly, and he glances to the side. It only lasts a fraction of a second, though, before he picks up one of Cellbit's hands, and places it to his cheek.

"I'm here," is what Felps answers, face shifting to a smile. "How would I be here if they hadn't?"

The cheek is cooler than it should be. Not corpse-cold - more like he had just fetched something from a walk-in freezer - but cold.

It does a little to discredit the dead idea, but not much.

"See, Cellbo?" a different voice cuts in, one also familiar; Forever, looking every bit the extra ten years older, perhaps even more, drops himself next to Felps on the bed. "I can be trusted with some things!"

Cellbit does not quite have time to process any thoughts before Forever is insisting on helping him sit up, pushing pillows around as support. It probably is not needed, not entirely, but his exhausted muscles appreciate the break.

And he looks up from Forever to see Pac and Mike, sat watching him. Pac notices and grins at him, but the tears drip heavily down his cheeks, carving paths in the dust on his face.

"Why didn't you call us sooner?" Forever asks, face ever shifting between intensities. "We would have come."

"Would you?" slips out. He doesn't mean to say it - he remembers just enough to know he is not supposed to question their loyalty no matter how strange it may appear - but he did think it.

He damned himself. Why would they - why did they - come for him?

Cellbit manages not to ask that one.

In response Forever makes a wounded sound, flinching a little at the question. Cellbit's heart curls up, to know that some of the first words he has said to his family in ten years caused that response.

It's Pac who answers "yes", with Mike humming in agreement. The two shift in unison. Mike says "bro, I thought this was a trap and I still came for you" and Pac continues "nothing could have stopped us from trying" their words running into a single sentence.

Nothing? Cellbit doubts that. He wonders why they even came, with ten years to break the dependency and tooth-shaped scars in Pac's flesh.

But he does not have time to think more, because Felps tilts his head with a slightly awkward smile. "Nobody would let me," he says. "But, I would have found a way, even if they refused to help."

What could Felps have done, if he was still frozen? If Cellbit... If nobody had answered Cellbit's desperate call to save his friend, too deep in the Federation to do anything with the information he had found?

Would there have been consequences?

And Cellbit thinks of thin fingers and cold cheeks, of an unaged face and the word 'stasis' slipping between the redactions on Felps' file. He repeats to himself Felps' words, about not being allowed to go. Now that he thinks about it, the man never answered if he was okay, did he?

... He was too slow, wasn't he?

Cellbit was too slow, and Felps has suffered for it.

Anger burns up in Cellbit's throat, fury reborn at the realisation. He has never not been angry with the Federation, but there is a difference between the simmering and the overflowing. He needs to destroy them, to rip them apart - every last one - to paint their white halls in their blood and feast upon their entrails.

He needs to tear himself apart, to punish himself, to create even tougher scar tissue so he can push past and never fail again. Because he has, and he did, and only in fire can a weapon be reforged, and only on a grindstone can a dulled blade be sharpened.

But the Federation are not here, and there are four people here who will not let him hurt himself; all he can do is reach out, and pull Felps tightly against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

He thinks Felps must hear, or at least feel the quiet tears in his hair, because Felps' arms do not just loop around Cellbit, but squeeze him tightly in reply.

If anyone else hears, Cellbit is unsure. They don't react, though, or at least not that he sees; the three let them have a few moments, letting Cellbit cry into Felps' hair, and Felps cry into Cellbit's chest.

Eventually, however, Forever interrupts them. He does it by hugging them both, but also tapping Cellbit's shoulder as he does.

"I've got to go," he says. "You'll be okay? Our idiots will look after you."

It takes Cellbit longer to remember that Forever runs a rebellion and so of course is busy than it does for his heart to curl. Still, he clings onto Felps - the one he really needs - and nods.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Forever replies. "The others are waiting in the crew quarters, if you want to end a tour there?"

He hesitates, eyes lingering on Cellbit momentarily, before he disappears on hurried feet, a radio already in hand.

There is a void left on the bed, one quickly filled by Pac and Mike scrambling over. The two are a chaos of limbs, but eventually resolve into Mike sat on the opposite side of the bed to Felps, and Pac perched over his legs.

"Do you hurt?" Mike asks.

That it is Mike of all people who asks...

Cellbit considers the question. He aches, yes, but not so much hurt - even where he was bitten, some sort of numbing cream seems to have been applied.

"I'm fine," he therefore answers.

"Good. I can do this then."

A second later there is a sting across his face, and an offended call of "Mike!" from Pac. Cellbit puts a hand to his cheek, right where Mike had just slapped him. He... probably deserved that, dragging them out all the way to Canada just because he was too incompetent to properly escape once his cover was blown.

Felps, having shifted in Cellbit's hold to watch, is laughing. Cellbit had forgotten just how dear his laugh was to him.

Seconds later, Mike wraps Cellbit in a hug, Felps scooped in too.

"You scared me, asshole. Ten years. Ten fucking /years/, Cellbo; we thought you were /dead/."

And... /Oh/.

Mike cares.

Cellbit... Cellbit deserved the slap, he knows that.

He doesn't deserve Mike's worry, though, not after he was the cause, not after everything he has done. He has never been worthy of the worry, but here it is.

"You could have asked us," Pac says, only doubling the pain in Cellbit's heart as he is looked at like he is worth something. "You had our details. We would have come. We always come, you idiot."

"I couldn't risk my cover," he replies. "I couldn't risk it. I had to-"

"Before, years ago," it's Mike, this time, and then Pac who continues. "When everything burnt" and together they say "You knew where we were, how to contact us; we would have come with you."

"You didn't have to go alone, you idiot," Pac finishes, at exactly the same time that Mike says "you could have at least said you survived, bro."

Cellbit thinks of Cucurucho's claws, and knows he would do /anything/ to keep his family far, far from them. Asking was not an option, not with how dangerous it was - he would never have risked them, not just to save himself a little heartache. They had each other; what did they need him for? And, what was saving Felps, what was uncovering the information to damn the Federation with, if the cost was more of his family?

The others, sure, but his family?

Felps is worth the world, but Pac and Mike and Forever are part of /Cellbit/'s world.

Mike grabs Pac's arm, pulling him into the hug. The patches of medical gown beneath their eyes are all, suspiciously, wet.

"We missed you," Felps says. "I missed you."

"You're safe now," says Pac. "We won't let them hurt you."

That's his line. That should be his line; they are criminals, yes, but he is the murderer, the bloodstained, the cannibal and the demon. It should be him who throws himself between them and the blade - something he has not been here to do.

Because while Felps looks like a slightly frailer man who disappeared ten years ago, the other three... all of their faces carry new scars. And all four of them are worn in a way Cellbit is sure is reflected on his face, but that he just wanted to save them from.

The Federation will burn, for daring to touch them - for the burn scars all across Pac's face, and the scratches littering Mike's skin. Forever's scars were more faded, but there certainly were a few.

For a while he drinks the three of them in, absorbs the feeling of knowing His People are safe again. He never wants to let go, except that he knows that he must. So many people, so much touch... Eventually his skin itches, and he has to push them away.

He tries to ignore the expressions they give him, and cannot ignore the tears - he wipes each of their cheeks in turn, and their hands wipe away his tears too.

"... A tour was mentioned?" he offers them, the best he can give that isn't begging them to understand, to never leave him.

The trio all perk up.

"Yeah about that," Mike's grin is a little dangerous. "Why /does/ Roier call you Gatinho?"

Pac elbows Mike, but there's also something terrifying in his eyes, "and you know Bad? BadBoyHalo? What a small world! There's even a lady claiming to be your sister! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Wait, I have a sister?!"

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp fanfic #forever mention #qsmp cellbit #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp felps #angst #hurt/comfort #this was going to go very different but well it wouldn't write #I was going to do more but honestly I think that line is the perfect place to end it #bagi roier and bad are the three mentioned as 'the others' waiting for cellbit #they weren't sure cellbit actually knows them and the infirmary is small so threw them out #this is right at my limit of how much forever and tumblr still gets to see #but i'm tired and don't care much right now #i'll sort it out... later #eepy factorial wants to watch streamer awards and this is a mistake #maybe also more op if he has time but probably just hc videos that take less brain #brain too soup for subtitles atm

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dogboyjackkennedy · 3 months

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thinking about the line "You can never undo what I've done to her, you know." again.

#dsaf #dsaf henry #jack kennedy #because like. Jack canonically feels guilt over Dee's death #not just Blackjack. the actual soul. no JACK. The One We Play As.#in the cutscene where Peter is watching the news and learns about Jack being framed for murdering Dee #Jack shows up and his first words to his brother are that He Failed. He Couldn't Save Her #there's also just Blackjack's Whole Existence #like. while it's not outright stated. Henry says something about souls that are tainted by intense enough regret having the power-#-to travel between timelines and even enter places that are between timelines #like. Blackjack is able to travel between timelines. in Dsaf 2 if you do the Evil Route Blackjack offers to take you back in time-#-so that you can choose to do good this time and fix your mistakes. and also. remember the fact that he dragged Henry to the Void.-#-a place basically outside of time. like i'm pretty sure it's canon that Blackjack is powered by Jack's Regret About Dee's Murder.#listen this line makes me Lose My Mind. you don't understand how badly it messes me up to think about

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oozeandgoo-art · 7 months

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tried drawing @ disformer's bishoujo Shockwave from memory in class this morning. It didn't really work because all I remembered was The Thighs and The Tits, but you know, I tried XD

#i'm not sure why i combined her in my brain with soundwave #i think i just like drawing hoodies #also the fishnets was me hiding a mistake #i knew she didnt have those #anyway disformer shockwave very cool. this is pretty mid but then again its a class doodle #so we can't expect too much from it #humanformers #shockwave #traditional media #transformers

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toastytrusty · 4 months

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fundamental amrev experience is being assigned the legend of sleepy hollow as required reading in your highschool english class and freaking out A. because it's by washington irving, who was discussed extensively in that one nancy isenberg essay about aaron burr's sexuality, and B. because it Won't Stop Talking About John André, who, of course, is john andré

#everyone raise a glass to john andré #reading tlsh while watching turn was actually such an experience #it's so fascinating? how much of an impact he and his death had on american culture #especially because yk. he was british. and turned benedict arnold who the average american does Not like #something soooo fascinating about arnold being demonized and andré being glorified #which i'm sure was in no small part to be arnold being entirely unpleasant to be around and andré being like #everyone's favorite guy ever #choose your fighter:#ben “i can recall no instance where my affections were so fully absorbed in any man” tallmadge #marquis “i made the mistake of allowing myself to acquire a true affection for him” de lafayette #alexander *writes a 3000 word letter to laurens about how much he loved andré* hamilton #and more #and yeah just.#the fascination that tlsh makes clear people had with him #is SO interesting to me sorry idk. that's america's favorite brit right there #also. washington irving never beating the gay allegations idk #the achilles and patroclus mention was crazy #john andré #john andre #benjamin tallmadge #ben tallmadge #marquis de lafayette #alexander hamilton #i probably should have written all that in the actual post and not in the tags but. Whatever

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gothhabiba · 1 year

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#the spelling thing is actually a little hurtful lmao #I've held off on voice-to-text for so long because I'm wary of the tech that makes it possible #(read: capitalist or fascist / police state uses for said tech)#but also I know it makes errors of homophone usage and other seeming malapropisms common #but even without it my hands are getting worse--I have to type lying down which makes my wrists worse #I'm tired and foggy so much of the time and making spelling and grammatical errors that I never used to make #and as someone trying to express sometimes not super sj 101 ideas--I know how much that relies on your seeming 'intelligence'#as far as people's willingness to listen to you #and as a person of colour I also know how white people get about you speaking 'their' languages #and how a mistake will hurt your credibility much faster than it would hurt someone else's #and I spend a lot of time and effort going back and correcting things my hands have messed up #even when it puts me in more pain. also because like I'm concerned about people who use screenreaders #idk there's no easy answer but surely we can agree that 'you misspelled something therefore you don't know what you're talking about'#is just mean-spirited on so many levels. lol

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atinyladybug-art · 10 months

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Some Abirt doodles of her daily life ft his partner Simon and one of his kids, Atticus. :>

More Abirt & co. fun facts because I'm having brainrot:

She dyed his hair red. I haven't got a reason why he's got yellow-green tips but it's either a cross between Old Dye Job Fading Out or magic by 963. She's also got grey hairs because she's an old man. :>

OH! Speaking of 963! My version of 963 is made of Amber. I think it's fitting since Abirt is a historian and also old and one of a kind. And Amber is exclusive to Earth, very ancient and preserves historical things. :D

Likes cooking but cannot be trusted with baking. (Leave baking to Simon!). Scared of making latkas though

Very morning bird. Awake by 6am and sleeps at 10. (Simon is the night owl, however, and sleeps at 3am)

They were in-laws with O5-1 | The Founder | Aaron Siegel at one point. Legally they still technically are in-laws?? Maybe??

Uses a quill! Thinks they're fancy and pretty but also because she's old fashioned.

Many, many canes all in different colours and types. Matches his outfits. Also likes to add stickers to them.

He's also ambidextrous! Learned to use both xer hands out of boredom and thought it would make her look cooler.

Simon is deaf and blind on the side with scars. It's what caused him to switch career paths from field agent to psychologist years ago (haven't made up lore yet).

Atticus is a little shit that likes to fuck around and find out and Abirt has to stop him from fucking around and finding out all the time.

#Alt draws #dr bright #simon glass #scp #scp foundation #jack bright #abirt kravitz #atticus kravitz #bright remake process #i have been going back and forth between saving and editing because i keep finding little bits of mistakes here and there #like a sneaky arm in sleeve was not coloured #i deadass forgot all their jewelry and magen davids #also I'm not sure if Simon and Abirt are married #at the moment they don't have actual wedding rings but they do have matching jewelry and rings #they aren't exactly boyfriends but they aren't exactly husbands either so they've just been calling each other partners and SO.#they're somewhere in between. definitely romantic and love each other a lot but boyfriends feel a bit too inaccurate for them #and abirt doesnt want to get married again because of personal issues #they're queer is what im saying

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imminent-danger-came · 6 months

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ik the song is romantic in nature, but ignoring that I'm so ill thinking about the song Everything in You from Fionna and Cake with MK and Wukong

Sometimes you gotta open your third eye and transcend the romantic relationship.

You and me We've got something to lose Though you got your dreams I got everything in you And I'll be there through all the reveries 'Cause I believe in you more than I ever believed in me Ooh, and I love you, love you, love you No, it's not so hard to tell And I love you, love you, love you Is it obvious to everyone else? And maybe this is killing part of me But it ain't called love without a littlе tragedy

"Cause I believe in you more than I ever believed in me" "Just believe in yourself, even a smidge makes all the difference." It's like, neither Wukong nor MK believe in themselves, but they do believe in each other. And it's that faith (and lack thereof in themselves) that I think is really going to be used against them next season.

#''But it ain't called love without a little tragedy'' screaming. crying. quite possibly throwing up.#they sure DO got something to lose #edit list #(<- for a rayllum edit)#lmk music recs #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk MK #lmk SWK #the light is no mystery #asks #Anyways I'm just saying. If SWK fully believed in himself he would have fought LBD initially instead of trying to get the samadhi fire #Like there are of course plenty of situations Wukong is very confident he can handle #But he also makes a lotta mistakes you know. And those mistakes weigh on him #LMK if you do anything for me. Please have MK and Wukong's faith in each other doom the world. Thank you

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absolutelyarealperson · 6 months

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I think Boston got a happy ending. He's getting a fresh start, and everything in the finale just felt like it was setting him up to leave for America with no regrets or loose ends.

He apologized for the things he did wrong, and pointedly did not apologize for the things he didn't do wrong. He's a messy boy and I love him for that, but he absolutely did some things worth apologizing for, so I'm not mad at the fact that the show let him apologize. He did everything he could to repair his relationships with his friends, and for the most part, he did repair them. Cheum is happy to welcome him back into the group. Ray is still protective of Mew, and is always going to side with Mew over Boston when forced to choose, but he doesn't seem to harbor any hard feelings of his own. His friendship with Mew is irreparably broken, and that's kind of ok with me. It's true to life; some relationships you can repair, and some you can't. But Boston did what he could. He doesn't have to hold onto guilt or wonder what would have happened if he reached out.

The friend group dynamic was never going to go back to what it was before, because Boston was leaving the whole continent. There was always going to be a shift. We were always going to end up with all of the others getting close and having experiences together without Boston there. But he fixed things enough that they're staying in touch.

And he and Nick broke up a bit earlier than they would have. But they would have broken up anyway. That relationship always had an expiration date. Boston set it up that way on purpose (I feel like knowing it had an ending was the only way he could give himself permission to even try for the first time, but that's probably a whole other post I could make). And he got to learn about himself. He likes romance; he can fall in love. It's just that romance and sex are two completely separate things for him. And he's moving to NYC! You know he's going to find some like minded people and figure himself out further, and find fulfilling relationships that work for him, now that he knows more about his wants and needs.

And it's so much better that Nick didn't follow him to New York. I cannot see that ending well. Because once Boston and Nick both learned enough about themselves to have an open and honest conversation about what they wanted in a relationship, it was clear that they loved each other AND they wanted fundamentally different things. Somehow a clean break for a reason other than the move to America feels better. They're not holding on or trying to stretch out the end so it hurts more or longer. They loved each other. It meant something. And it ended. The end doesn't make the rest matter less.

And Boston, a Boston who learned and grew from the events in this series, is planning to be totally out in America, away from his dad. No more hiding. No more worry about black mail. He's the person taking the photos and choosing to make them public as art.

Everything about the finale just felt like it was setting Boston up for a fresh start in the best and cleanest way possible. Repairing the ties that could be part of his support system, even across continents. Cutting ties that were only going to hold him back or hurt him worse. Letting him get things off his chest, so he could leave without regrets or what-ifs. I think this episode was so good to Boston.

#i was a little disappointed he chose not to graduate #but that was his choice - his mistake to make #and he's a young adult so he's not going to stop making mistakes #but it sure is nice to see him making different mistakes. that's growth right?#and i see some people upset that boston didn't get apologies from all of his friends and i do see that as a little sad but like way more sa #for his friends than it is for Boston. Boston cleaned his shit up. He doesn't have to live with the regret #i just have seen so many posts about how the narrative hated boston or just wanted to punish him or whatever #and that just doesn't feel right at all #it feels like some people fall into this idea that happy ending = in a relationship and sad ending = single #and i'm like - were we even watching the same character if that's your idea of a happy ending for Boston? My Boston?#i've also seen some wonderfully nuanced takes on why Boston's ending is tragic #or both sad and hopeful #so this isn't a knock to everyone disappointed in boston's ending or sad for boston's character at the end #i think there's a ton of valid reads of his ending #and also at least a few bad takes on his ending lol #only friends the series #boston only friends

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