#LOVE thanks mouse

[wishfulsketching]

Thank you so much for everyone who joined the stream! Three hours just flew by! Here's some doodles I did. (A merman Silco needs some finalizing but I'll post it later)

Special mention to these fine gentlemen

I also did this super quick before the stream.

Needed something to use at the start of the stream/if I had to leave the computer for a while

[porrigens]

a thin-ice double suicide (x)

for @cryptidzero

[bluestation]

nami day!! 🧡💐🍊

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about Eddie being so eager to kiss you all the time and he just gets a little too excited sometimes a little too rough and you bump into something and he cradles you while you giggle cause he can't stop smiling into his kisses

And sure maybe it's a little awkward and teeth knock against each other and he catches your lip in his teeth a little too hard but it's okay cause you're deliriously happy

And it's not about getting to the sex (not all the time anyways) but he's just so happy to have found a safe place to land and he's enthusiastic that he found someone who wants to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you

And this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big and he doesn't need to tone it down cause you're his person and he's yours

Okay bye ily

mouse. mouse get the fuck back here. MOUSE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

he's just so happy to have a safe place to land and this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big were daggers straight to my heart you come back here right now before i actually bleed out from needing this man so badly.

no but thats exactly it. eddie has spent so long jumping and toeing that line of either trying to cram himself into this bite-sized shape for the ones around him, and just exploding and pretending he doesn't give a fuck that he will never fit into anyone's cup of tea so he'll just make himself even larger, that when you enter his life he just doesnt know what to do about it.

because he starts with his regular tricks of being so over the top, so unbearable, and all you're doing is laughing and entertaining his antics. even playing along at times. and so he retracts a little, turning back into a quiet boy who will shrivel up until he's invisible or easy to love (whichever comes first). but then that doesn't work - and to be truthful, he doesn't even know what his mind's end goal is here because why is he trying to push you away so desperately? - and he's just at a loss. you want him on the thundering days, where he makes his grey clouds everyone's problem and all his lightning is blinding and sporadic. you want him on the quiet days, where the downpour is no longer a roar but a soft drizzle, a bit more silent and a bit more bearable but still there. and he can't tell if it's a joke - he can't decipher if your kisses amidst his rambles are sincere, if you're actually smiling at his jokes because you like him or you're too polite to break his heart. he can't see through those gentle hands you use to caress back his wild hair to be sure that the softest of touches are really just you, or some strange gloves of care that you're only simply wearing for now.

and then one morning, he wakes up, and you're still there, awake before he is and just watching him with so much love. feather-light fingers taking their time tracing over his tattoo on his chest and arms, not noticing he's awake yet as you smile so serenely at him. you're looking at him in a way that he's never really gotten to experience so vulnerably before - like he isn't a nuisance, isn't a mistake. like the universe has so intentionally dropped him into your palms, and you're so aware of how delicate he can be below the surface. and he just breaks.

"i love you"

he'd blurt it out, the first time he's ever said those words to you. it almost feels like the first time he's said those words, period.

he's said them to wayne, in their own way, both a bit stiff in expressing affection and skirting around those words whenever they can for a simply ruffle of hair or unexpected side hugs. he'd said them to his mom, a young boy with shining eyes despite it all, looking at her like she was the world because she was his world.

and... well. that's it. he can count the number of times he's said those words on one hand, and now he's said them to you, and all he can hope is you handle them with as much care as you've handled him.

he hopes you can feel the weight of his heart pressing down on them.

and he thinks you do, when you startle a little, looking up to his lips where those rough words had just fallen from in a cracking tone, and you take your time in awarding him with a smile that could save lives. cure cancer, cure sadness, cure the end of the world even. every cliche possible.

"yeah?" you'd whisper back, and his heart skips a beat, terrified that the next words you say won't be what he needs to hear so desperately. but they are. because of course they are. you wouldn't have been watching him sleep in that way if they hadn't been on the tip of your tongue, "i love you."

not a crash landing, but a soft-padded decent. a slow fall with a cushion to prevent broken bones and more invisible scars.

he kisses you then the way he was going to kiss you every day going forward: pushing forward recklessly, teeth and noses bumping a little, smiles making it nearly impossible. he kisses you like he's coming home after a long day, because he is.

he's home. no boxes in sight to fit into, no cups that'll overflow from all the fizzling feelings pouring out of his chest. you've got him, and he's got you.

[cowboythewizard726]

beautiful orc girl leed helllOOOOO beautiful leed alert oh my GOD she's so cool WOOAHHHH beautiful siilly girl she was really pretty and awesome and so kind i think shes wonderful and there should be a statue made just for her thats really big and in the center of everything and she should get anything she wants ever smile face

[edekyll]

Again, regular sword for you, big sword for me.

[twigsyy]

[sunny1927]

Hi. I have an idea for a request.

Mickey and Minnie as the Nutcracker and Marie/Clara. From the House of Mouse.

Happy New Year! 😊✨

I had to watch to watch the short to get a better understanding and oh my goodness I laughed so hard sickakdkdskjs- (I didn’t expect to chuckle at most of the scenes especially Von Drake and Goofys one XD)

(Also I don’t really know who Marie/Clara is, I tried looking into the House of Mouse for that but nothing, so I apologise if I didn’t get to do it. But I hope you like this piece I did :D)

[nastybuckybarnes]

i totally feel like mouse would bring ghost trinkets. oh here’s a shiny new coin? ghost would like this. maybe it’s something small from her past. but mostly just small, daily knick knacks, and ghost would say he wouldn’t keep them, but next thing you know his pockets are overflowing. and when soap notices…

omg yesssss shes like a lil crow

It starts off with little tiny things that you find that you think are cool, and you want to share with your Ghost.

He stares at the handful of small coins, then looks up to your face.

"I can't keep this."

Your lips turn down, shoulders slumping forward as you deflate at his rejection.

He huffs out a heavy sigh and shoves the coins into one of the pockets of his pants against his better judgment.

"Let's keep it a secret, yeah? Jus' you an' me, how's that sound?"

The smile that spreads across your face could light up the dark war-torn city you inhabit, and it certainly brightens his day.

And from that day forward, anything that sparkles, shines, or catches your eye, you feel the need to share with him.

"What's this?" He asks a few days later.

You smile proudly up at him as he inspects the watch closely.

It doesn't tell the correct time and the glass is cracked, but one glance at your beaming face and he already knows he needs to keep it until he dies.

"Gift. For Ghost."

"Mouse, this belonged to someone. You can't just take it," he protests weakly.

Your brows furrow in confusion. How could it belong to someone when they chose to leave it?

"When the people leave, they take what is important. That is why they take animals, children. If they want it, they take it. If it is important, they protect. They do not want these. I do. They are mine. And I give to my Ghost."

Your Ghost. Yours.

He feels his heart warm at your words, while you seem oblivious of their impact.

"So, if something is important, you should protect it? Keep it, take it with you when you leave?" He asks, stepping forward and towering over you. You don't cower like so many men before you have. Instead, you stand your ground and tilt your head back to nod up at him.

"If I want something, I should take it?" He asks lowly, one hand sliding around your waist to rest on your back.

You inhale sharply at the unexpected contact, eyes fluttering closed as you understand his words, then nod once more.

"What does Ghost want?" You ask quietly, opening your eyes and gazing up at him.

The weight of your gaze nearly makes his knees buckle, and he finds himself speechless for a long while.

He's so used to having power over people, making them cower, making them bend to his will. And now he feels like he's on the other side of it. And the best part is, you have no idea you're doing it.

His sweet little mouse.

His radio crackles, as it always does in the tenderest of moments between the two of you, and he sighs.

Before he can leave, you slide a hand up around his neck, urging him to lower his head.

He obeys, eyes closing when you press your forehead as close to his as you can manage with all his gear in the way.

"Bye bye," you whisper, taking a step back and disappearing into the night.

He stuffs the watch in his pocket and heeds the call of his teammates, pondering your question the entire time.

What does he want?

You. That's what.

Bringing him gifts quickly becomes the highlight of your sad grey life, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it, too.

Seeing your eyes light up every time you open your little hands to show him what treasures you've found is more than reason enough to wake up every morning.

With each passing day, his pockets grow heavier, but it's grounding. A constant reminder that you're with him, you're around and safe and breathing.

"I have for you... something very special," you tell him one day, a big grin on your face.

"Oh yeah? And what might that be?"

You bring your hands out from behind your back and show him, and he cocks his head to the side as he tries to understand what it is.

"What is it?" He finally asks, inspecting the round object closely.

"Fruit. To eat."

He eyes you skeptically, unsure if this is some sort of trick.

Where would you get fruit in an environment like this? He's sure you've been living off of scraps and stolen rations, so how you could find fresh fruit is beyond him.

You bring it to your lips and take a bite as if to prove to him that it is, in fact, what you say it is, and he watches as some of the juice dribbles past your lips and down your chin.

His hand is moving before his mind can keep up, and he watches as he wipes the mess off of you.

You smile up at him and extend your hand, waiting for him to take it, but he shakes his head.

"That is very special. I want you to keep it, Mouse. You deserve a treat like that."

You frown and shake your head, licking your lips before speaking.

"I share with you. Please."

Hearing the word 'please' fall from your pretty lips makes him want to pull the moon out of the sky and present it to you on a silver platter.

He takes the piece of fruit from you, turning around to lift his mask and take a bite. When he turns to face you again, his mask is back in place and you can see his jaw working beneath it as he chews.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't one of the sweetest and most delicious things he's eaten in months.

"Thank you, Mouse. It's delicious."

You grin happily and take it back from him to take another bite, humming with delight as the flavour explodes on your tongue once more.

As he watches you eat the little fruit, he wonders what you would think of the grocery stores and farmer's markets back home. The plethora of fresh fruits, exotic ones too.

You'd surely lose your mind at all the flavours, the variety.

He's pulled from his thoughts by the sound of gunfire far too close for comfort.

Your head snaps toward the sound, fruit falling from your fingers and hitting the ground with a wet 'splat'.

His guard is up in an instant, one hand pushing you behind his back while the other lifts his weapon, aiming at the source of the sound.

"Let's get you inside, little one."

The next time you give him a gift, it's done between intense rounds of heavy gunfire, the fight worsening the closer they get to the heart of the city.

Somehow, like always, he finds you close by. Too close to the fight, in his opinion.

"You are hurt?" You ask, looking at him closely when he enters the small convenience store you've chosen as your home for the day.

He shakes his head, taking a seat with you behind the counter and sighing heavily.

After how many months, the fight is starting to take a toll on him.

But here you are, reminding him of his purpose.

"Here," you whisper, holding your hand out to him.

His tired eyes follow the movement, and then he's opening his hand out to you, watching curiously as you drop a silver necklace into it.

"Where'd you get this one?" He asks, bringing it closer so he can inspect it.

It has a pretty charm at the end of it, and it's inscribed with words in a language he's not familiar with.

"My mother," you whisper, curling your knees up to your chest.

His eyes snap to you, but your eyes are focused on the necklace in his hand.

"She tell me... this will protect... wherever I go."

It's worked thus far, as far as he's concerned.

"Where is she now?"

You bring your eyes to his and give your head a sad shake.

You remember the day she was ripped from you, the day she sacrificed everything so you could be free.

"She give to me, and now I give to Ghost. Safe with you."

He knows better than to try and argue with you.

Instead, he nods, and tucks it away in a hidden inner pocket of his vest.

"I'll take good care of it. I promise."

~

"Hang on a minute," Soap murmurs one day when they're out on patrol.

Ghost obeys, freezing in his tracks as the other man tilts his head to the side, listening carefully.

"What is it, Johnny?"

Another moment goes by before the Scot shakes his head and begins walking again.

"Thought I heard somethin' s'all."

They walk in silence for a few more moments before he's stopping them again.

The sound stops again as well.

"What is it, MacTavish?"

Soap looks around slowly, carefully, inspecting every nook and cranny, every shadow and window and corner, but still there's nothing.

"Guess m'finally startin' to lose it," he mutters, shaking his head as if to shake away the sound.

The jingling follows Soap around all night while he's on patrol, like the voice of God in a poor man's ear during a time of desperation. And finally, when they get back to base, he pinpoints the source.

"Lt, are you... is that you... jingling?"

The question feels ridiculous as he asks it, but it's the only explanation for what's been happening.

Ghost's brows pull together and he glances down, taking a rather exaggerated step and glancing down at his leg when the sound rings out.

"Seems that way, yeah."

Soap stares at him, and he stares right back. As if his leg jingling like Christmas bells is something that should be expected.

"Why?" He finally asks after a few minutes.

Ghost sighs and pats his pocket, then digs his hand inside and produces only a small portion of the newest trinkets and doodads you've gifted him.

"These from yer mouse, I take it?" He asks, taking the handful and chuckling when Ghost only produces another handful from another pocket.

Eventually, he's emptied out his pockets, and Soap has called Price and Gaz over to inspect some of the things you've gifted the skull-faced soldier.

The teasing begins quickly, jests of him being spoiled rotten by a little street mouse, starting a hopeless romance with someone he can never keep, and he lets them have their fun.

There's one thing he doesn't take out, one important gift he keeps around his neck now, next to his dog tags where he knows it'll be safe.

His team doesn't question the new silver chain when they catch a glimpse of it. They know that if he wanted them to know about it, they'd know.

This one does well and truly stay between you and him. And he has no intention of changing that.

[skullsemi]

MY turn for an ask, buddy! So with Gladstone and Mortimer you have the makings of another trio— someone who is friends with both of them (begrudgingly or otherwise) so I’m curious! Who would be their Goofy?

That is a great question, and honestly? I can't really see anyone that would fit the bill and I think that is because these two have so many things in common already that it's hard to find someone else just alike

[aylish91]

Thank you so much @seirindono for letting me commission you for some of my NagaMob/NagaMafia boys! I adore them!!!

I love how smug Blue is~ Fits him so well!

[north-noire]

Behold! I am the magic anon #058! Now it’s time to dropkick William Afton into the fifteenth dimension!

The FNAF good ending just dropped.

[bondilluns]

gaze into her killing jar i'd sometimes stare for hours, she even poked the holes so i can breath

here's revenge ray as a little mouse for an art trade with @omtai !!! ^^ here's their half of the trade, it's the cutest thing i've ever seen!! >u<

[ID: A digital drawing of Ray Toro as a cartoon mouse playing guitar. He's wearing a bulletproof vest with a red shirt underneath, and striped pants. His eyes are closed, he is smiling and poking his tongue out. End ID.]

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

There is something so captivating and sorrowful about the Dynasty lore book that I honestly think makes it one of my most cherished lore books.

My Witness project is being discussed in a few days (my stomach just dissolved itself at that thought what) and for this project, I’ve collected thoughts on how species that use the darkness to form their spiritual beliefs (Psions and Qugu specifically) have similarities to spiritual beliefs often found in the Caribbean and in South America (with discussions over matters like spiritual substance use with ayahuasca (Qugu), ancestral veneration and communication from Western African practices (Both), and the suppression of panentheistic/pantheistic and harmonizing thought (Psion)). The Qugu have been such a comfort to me for a while now and whenever I think about their fate in Dynasty, I am filled with such a sense of anguish and mourning.

The unfolding of the events in the lore book is just plain devastating to read; seeing Te’Qal’s absolute best efforts to save their people not be enough to stop the Hive and the Witness speaks on something I think is underdeveloped in Destiny.

We hear so much about the annihilation of countless star systems at the hands of the Hive and Black Fleets, but often, due to the information coming from beings who lead those fleets or people reflecting back on their escape, the sheer scope and emotional impact of these losses is not captured in a way that is truthful to the matter.

Dynasty’s narrative following Te’Qal and the Qugu people changes this trend and it makes the extermination of the Qugu people all that more impactful.

It starts off with familiarizing readers with how the Qugu came to be; how they developed their spiritual beliefs and their way of life. It’s delicious world building (which I always love from Destiny writers), but it also establishes just how much will be ripped away and snuffed out by Savathûn, Oryx, and the Witness.

Te’Qal is a competent, determined Warden who vows to do nothing but their best to defend Seht, both before and after they understood their vision of the fall of the Qugu. They were well trained and the various descriptions of their armada’s defenses provides evidence of them being a masterful tactician. In fact, Dynasty even admits that on the basis of skill, the Qugu were beyond the Hive, who were winning off of their brute force and numbers (“When evenly matched in numbers, Te'Qal's superior tactics pick the Hive forces apart” - Dynasty)

Te’Qal is relentless in their desire to preserve their people, their beliefs, their home. They sacrifice their well-being to offer hope to the Qugu people during a hopeless time, pushing their body and mind beyond its limits to keep themselves alert enough to lead ark ships and give speeches to bolster morale.

Te’Qal did everything they could and it wasn’t enough and I don’t think there is anything more devastating than that.

To have hope against intentionally-made hopeless, only for it to not be enough to save your people?

What a defeating, soul crushing, utter helpless feeling.

Destiny tells us that hope is worth having and it will lead to you defeating impossible odds, but as shown in Dynasty, hope is also a tireless thing that sometimes doesn’t pay off fast enough to save everyone.

Te’Qal’s determination to not just give into the Black Fleet and the Hive, their determination to let their hope go out loudly instead of fizzling into nothing, lead to them destroying a pyramid with their final stand and thwarting countless hive vessels that were in their star system.

Their final stand left a mark on the universe and set the Hive and Witness back, even if it was momentarily, but that still wasn’t enough to save their people.

However, I think the cruelest part of it all is how the Hive and the Witness refer to the extinguishing of the Qugu; how everything Te’Qal held dear and fought til the very end for was meaningless to them.

Oryx, in the Book of Sorrows, speaks of the Qugu in such a disgusting way, completely minimizing them as sentient beings and acting as if ridding them from existence was a noble act of “liberation”.

“Savathûn and her broods have liberated the Qugu from jaw-beasts, and indeed from existence…I know more joy and more anguish than the entire Qugu race could ever experience… Joy that we have put down these blights. Scoured them away and left the universe clean, ready to move towards its final shape. “ - Oryx, Verse 3:3, “Fire Without Fuel”, Book of Sorrows

Part of his view of the Qugu as lesser is their veneration of Jaw Beasts and their ability to receive visions, saying “For millions of years of evolution the Qugu have been infected by a virus so insidious that it wrote itself into their genome…They venerate these beasts and treat them as gods”.

He says the relationship between the Qugu and Jaw Beast is “insidious” and there is a tone of condescension when talking of their spirituality. Oryx sees Qugu spirituality as a blight and burden, but if it truly was so, then the Qugu wouldn’t have spent so much effort in preserving the land around their “mountain” for their ark ships. To the Qugu, there could be no new home for them unless their beliefs came with them.

The ancestral visions Te’Qal receives are so heart wrenching and beautiful, and when they are at their lowest, when all efforts seemed futile, they wanted nothing more than to drink the nectar and receive those visions. They speak to their Te’Dura for support and it is by remembering all who came before them as well as their capabilities that Te’Qal finds the strength to prove that the Qugu not only existed, but existed proudly ("Not because you forget, but because you have been hopeless before." Te'Dura rears into a taller posture. "There is victory in that darkness. A kind. Find it." - Dynasty)

The Qugu and their belief in the power of the darkness were intertwined, making it a key part of their identity. It gave them meaning, it guided them to become more than what they could be alone, and yet, in the eyes of the Witness, it didn’t mean anything at all compared to its belief in the Final Shape.

“Far distant, there is a people lacing ribbons of Darkness through their thoughts to bring them closer together, that no one might be divided from the purpose they have dreamed for themselves. But they have not come to Darkness through the Gardener's neglect — it is simply their natural course. In time, we shall enfold them into our shape, but they need not urgent salvation…Some resist the rampaging Hive, crying out into the Darkness. It is to us they reach, in the end. We hear their pleas and grant them succor, salvation, enshrining them in our monument. Toward our inevitable final shape.” - The Witness, “Cacophony, Euphony.”, Destiny Grimoire Anthology, Vol. VII: Penumbra

“The purpose they have dreamed for themselves” was not a respectable purpose to the Witness for it wasn’t the purpose it wanted to enact upon them. The Qugu are not specifically mentioned, but they fit the description of the darkness species mentioned.

The Witness saw the “waywardness” of the Qugu as a problem to be solved, something that had to be corrected to give them a proper place in their vision for the universe, and though the Qugu never asked for anything more than safety and the ability to keep their connection to their ancestral lines, the Witness forcefully responded by sweeping up every memory of the Qugu people into an echo, extinguishing them and turning a cacophony of expression into a euphony it found fitting.

It was never once mentioned that the Qugu ever knew about the light or Traveler, yet they were still treated to ruinous assault for the crime of crafting their own meaning out of a power granted by the Witness’ pyramid; a pyramid they had revered as a mountain and watched turn on them in their moment of need.

Even when Te’Qal and all the ancestors they drew power from showed that they wouldn’t let their sacred mountain become a cursed pyramid without a fight and that they were willing to do the ultimate sacrifice to refute the corruption of what they exalted, the Witness still forced them to accept it’s “salvation”.

That is cruelty beyond imagination and no justification the Witness could ever offer or belief in its righteousness would erase what it did to the Qugu.

The Art of Symbiosis entry from the Inspiral lore book is one I have read again and again and again. To be completely vulnerable, it is an entry that has elevated me from the depths of gripping grief time and time again. I actually have the entry printed so that I may reach over and read it when I need my resolve strengthened.

It’s a bit strange to feel this way towards an entry, I know, but The Art of Symbiosis and it’s Qugu narrator offered assurance to me that the beliefs I held that gave me meaning, that allowed me to move on from scorning a universe I didn’t truly believe in, weren’t as “meaningless” and “distant from the truth” as others made me think.

The way the Qugu speak of those who have passed is just so consoling and it reminds me that the person I’m doing this project for mattered as much in death as they did in life. They may be no more, but I still am, and there is meaning in wanting to create an impact on a finite world that will show that people like them existed, and that existence mattered. There is meaning in being perfectly fine with a finite existence because you don’t need your lost loved ones to be eternal and “perfected” to matter to you.

I don’t want people to think of people like them the way Oryx and the Witness thought of the Qugu. I’ll do everything I can to ensure it isn’t that way and I thank the writers for giving the Qugu a voice beyond the one in the Book of Sorrows years ago to remind me of why I feel so strongly towards this matter.

I’m doing this project for them like Te’Qal did it for Seht, and though my efforts and hope may not win now, I hold onto the idea that this tirelessness will help those who come after me win in ways my lost loved one couldn’t have imagined.

[desceros]

ok this one's better. ignore any previous villain donnie's left in your inbox oooo

[meteorologist voice] well folks if you look to your night sky you'll have a chance of catching a special treat tonight! looks like tumblr user desceros has fucking exploded and will be ascending to become a star in our cosmos. wow, what an opportunity to see spontaneous human combustion in real time. truly something special. anyway, back to you, janice

[mousemannation]

alexdeminaur | [x]

Another week evolving into a dirt dog 😂👀🧱😈 📸: jsaragossa