#cr i e s

[lavalamp-juice]

I'm already making plans for graduation and I'm scared kfjvwifhhwjdhfbdwmvw

[firstsecret]

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. @LGBTQCREATORS CREATOR BINGO: THROWBACK

[vvitchllng]

If I found out my sibling planned to sell out our whole family to our eternal enemy because they were a little bit suicidal and bored with eternity, I’d tear them to pieces. Like find a new hobby don’t hit the fucking nuclear meltdown button jfc

[birb--birb]

can we also talk about Marion's choices? Choosing to give his reclaimed soul to Jean is so layered in love for both her, Sean, and himself I just- The woman you've fallen in love with is breaking, believing that she too is just another monster in this terrible world. But Marion doesn't let her believe it, he shows her that she still has so much capacity to help, so much capacity for kindness and gentleness still. He shows her that even through all the tragedy and sadness, there can still be good and beauty and while its good to grieve, it's possible to carry on. He made peace with his younger self, apologizing to that young Marion in the garden for the hell he is about to unleash/has already experienced, while also claiming back a major piece of his trauma for himself. Its like he sorta reverse uno'd his trauma, it still exists but he gets to hold it now, not some otherworldly beast that haunted him his entire life. It is in his control now, and he can make peace with it. and Sean.... his most beloved friend, who has been through hell and back and hell again. Marion knew how much pain he was in, the agony and suffering and anger he carried with him. And sometimes you feel you have no other choice than to let go, its the only way Sean felt he would have ever been able to find peace and it sucks it sucks that this is what it came to. But Sean made his decisions, was more than ready to give himself up to keep his mother safe and Marion made a promise, he promised would never let Sean go through anything alone ever again. And he kept it. Marion had so much love to give and I love that Luis followed that to the end.

[greatgodempresspan]

I love the idea of the Hells going to Emon - sans Fearne and Orym, who are weirdly insistent that they can’t set foot there, but don’t really want to get into *why* - ands being faced with just, A WALL of Wanted posters for the Crown Keepers.

Chetney gets a copy each of Dorian, Fearne and Orym, with the intent to roasting them for them later for breaking the laws so obviously and getting caught. But on closer inspection, realising how high quality they are, the bounty on their heads, the fact that they’re wanted by a crime syndicate, he starts getting choked up. They must have opulled so much shit when they here. He’s so proud!

Ashton, also a little teary (gritty) eyed can’t work out whether they’re proud of them too or whether they’re dying of jealousy.

[naillykej]

BREN SENDS HIS REGARDS

[pinkvaquita]

PUT HIM IN A BUNNY SUIT PUT HIM IN A BUNNY SUIT PUT HIM IN BUNNY SUIT PUT HIM IN A-

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@m00r3-cha0s @the-buttery-baker @ohabeeeeeee @lovelettersinc @anonymous--writings @anonwithanaccount

[undead-knick-knack]

Me and Jesus smoking a blunt while discussing this

[divinesouldariax]

FOUR POINTS OF EXHAUSTION NOW WE ARE TALKING BABEY

(this means Fearne's max hit points are halved, plus disadvantage on all checks, saves, and attacks, and moving at half speed)

[lenakluthor]

LOSING MY MIND BC WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CROWN KEEPERS ARE BACK AND I'M NOT CAUGHT UP TO SEE IT

[just-a-funny-little-brain]

Green and Gold

Critical Role: Bells Hells, Ashlo (Ashton/Milo), 4.4k, Incomplete

Summary: Milo does their best to patch up Ashton after their fall, but Ashton... isn't quite back to normal. (Aka the author wanted to examine the effects of the traumatic brain injury that Ashton clearly sustained.)

tw: brain damage/TBI, Ashton-typical swearing

Full fic on ao3

-------

It was a slow process, so much slower than the near-panic inside Milo’s chest was screaming for. But they tamped it down, refusing to let panic take over, driven by some adrenaline-fueled stubbornness.

Breathe in. They carried the tiny cup of just-molten gold to the side of their workbench. 

Breathe out. Slowly, carefully, they let the precious metal dribble into the cracks of jade.

It was mesmerizing, a strange corner of Milo’s brain told them, watching the rivers of gold flow through the concentric cracks emanating out from the impact point.

The gold slowed and began to solidify.

Breathe in . They returned the cup to the furnace and released the tongs. 

Breathe out.  

Milo watched the re-liquifying gold. They looked at the cup. They glanced at the shelves and the shimmering grey potion Ashton had been clutching. They looked at their tools, the kitchen, the door, anywhere, anywhere but the still, stiff figure on their workbench.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The gold was nearly ready again. Just barely hot enough to pour and flow through the cracks in the jade, but not so hot to burn the organic bits any more than necessary. Which bits those were and which bits were strictly rock was as much of a mystery to Milo as it was to anybody else, but they figured if the earth genasi could bleed, they could also be burned by liquid gold. So Milo was careful.

One good thing, that same corner of their brain mused, about the form on their workbench being... unmoving--

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

-- was that they wouldn’t feel the molten metal coursing through the cracks in their skin. Once Milo was done, they could figure out then how to fix that literal hole in their head, finish bringing them back, and by then it would be fine, the gold would be fine, Ashton would be back and it would be fine, everything would be fine, it had to be fine or --

A metallic CLANK jerked Milo into the present. The tongs were loose, shaking in their hands and extended a few inches above the cup of gold, which was now resting askew in the oven. 

Shit.

Carefully this time, Milo righted the cup and inspected it for any dribbles of the precious metal. It was already looking like the payment Ashton had taken might not be enough, and they couldn’t risk losing more. They could maybe ask Tiva if she had any gold to spare, but she already thought it was a lost cause, so the chances of her donating were slim.

Breathe in. Adrenaline coursed through their veins, the startle of the cup giving a new burst to their focus.

Breathe out. Milo willed their hands to still as the remaining gold slowly slithered its way through the last microfractures that reached towards Ashton’s hip.

As if making sure to not wake a sleeping child, Milo quietly set the cup on the stone-carved shelf. They let out a breath, then turned to examine their handiwork.

A few of the very smallest fractures had been resistant to the gold, but Milo hoped that they would mend. Milo traced the gold with their eyes, making sure it was even and flush with the jade. The veins running up Ashton’s neck had been harder to fill, but they were still satisfied with the result as they traced one long crack up through their cheek, up to their temple where--

Milo swallowed down bile that suddenly threatened to rise in their throat. They knew that there was a head injury, they had seen it, it wasn’t covered. But they hadn’t looked at it. And now... 

Breathe in.  

Breathe out. Slowly, Milo steadied their hands as they gripped the edge of their workbench. Then, they cleared their throat.

“Ok, Ash. Worst part is over. Now we just gotta figure out what to do with that hole in your head, and you’ll be good as new.” Their voice cracked, and they were instantly grateful that Tiva had decided to sleep in her room, instead of on the couch like she had offered.

Milo crossed to the kitchen and retrieved the chunks of amethyst and jade one of the Nobodies had grabbed in the chaos of the escape. Tiva had cleaned them off for Milo, along with cleaning Ashton of the dark black-red blood that had covered their head and torso. It had made the gold pouring much easier, but now Milo realized that it also meant they could see clearly into the gaping head wound.

“Ugh. I work on machines and not people for a reason,” they muttered.

They picked up one more coin from the quickly dwindling pile and placed it in the cup, which they then returned to the furnace. As it warmed, Milo ran their hands down their face and set to work reassembling the pieces. It didn’t take long, however to realize that the pieces they had were not nearly enough to fill the hole.

Milo worked with metal normally, not stone. Not that they knew enough about Ashton’s weird anatomy to know if the type of stone even mattered, or if their body would reject a different mineral entirely. Either way it didn’t matter because they didn’t have any spare stones sitting around, and they didn’t have time to go and find some to buy. 

Milo chewed on their lip. Something light, something sturdy, something that hopefully won’t make things any worse... 

Something reflected off of the candlelight and caught their eye. That could just work...  

Quickly, Milo grabbed the glass off of the floor and arranged it with the rest of the jade and amethyst. Grabbing the cup from the heater, they carefully poured a layer of gold on one side of the pieces of jade and pressed another to it with a thick gloved hand. After a few moments, they released their grip, willing the pieces to stay together. 

Breathe in.  

The pieces rocked on the workbench, but stayed.

Breathe out.  

Long minutes passed as Milo assembled the rest of the pieces with the most precious of glues. With shaking hands, they turned, took a steadying breath, placed the still-warm amalgamation gently into the cavernous opening, and

Shit. It didn’t fit.

---

Full fic on ao3.

[baynton]

lawyer!Chris in Spy (2011-2012) | 2x01 Codename: Growing Rogue

[thedragonagelesbian]

apparently theres a batshit cr post floating around and i havent been able to find it!!!!

[mythesque]

HOLY SHIT

[spuffyfet]

[gricean-sphinx]

Huh, the internet can be a bit like a kaleidoscope, filtering the world, twisting all these slices of people’s thoughts and lives into shiny, shifting shapes.

The world is too much with us, but it’s a lot easier to take in one eye closed, pointed at a soft light, and through the turning of the patterns that have done the heavy lifting of fitting the world into a bewitching, sensical configuration, and then another, and then another!

Because don’t you love scrolling and stumbling upon a gifset of a lion playing soccer, someone being very normal™ about their favorite ship, peak comedy in the hashtags of a buried note, a life-altering revelation in the words of a stranger, or a dizzying number of members of an imagined community collaborating to solve an unhinged number of puzzles and then put together the extra hidden clues?

Don’t you love stumbling upon other people’s joy and earnestness? Isn’t that stuff contagious?