#hue & cry

[spearxwind]

Happy 10th birthday to Cercerion!

OUGHHH UR RIGHT CERCIE IS 10 YEARS OLD NOW !!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOY BELOVEDEST DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HIS WHOLE LIFE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[storytellering]

Welcoming 2024 the right way: by posting Nero Twinkification

[mymblesbuir]

My first kalluzeb edit!

This song is just so very them it's unbelievable tbh

[also on ao3 here]

[midnightkolrath]

Into the (animated) Danteverse

[breezypunk]

one of their favorite date nights is just strolling through the city admiring the neon lights. ♥︎

[plulp]

kylar with the teeth

[stardines]

pixel portrait

chappell roan 👩‍🎤

[teejaystumbles]

I saw Florence’s dress at the Met Gala 2019 and I thought “I need to draw Dream in this, like, right now, my king, my Dream” -

- and now I’m devastated because I drew Morpheus in such a Daniel dress and colors and I’m angry at myself uugh He's a daydream king for a single hour before he reverts back to his natural black wardrobe. <3

[dukethomas]

sometimes i remember the existence of white ppl soups

[thefourchimes]

i just saw a yt short spell and call isabela "isabella", luisa "lusia", and mirabel "mirabella" im—

[clareguintu]

bittersweet memories

dancing in the pupils

of my hollowed out eyes

these sugar-coated recollections

attempting to latch onto me

ultimately

eating me alive

—clare guintu, from stain of hues

[antimonyandthyme]

hi athy!! it's been a while but i woke up knackered and dehydrated and chose violence i'm so sorry

He doesn’t tell Charles it’s the last time they see each other. He suspects Charles knows anyway: he’s always been able to read Seb easily, a quick once-over and he’s flailed before him, all of his secrets at Charles’s disposal. He sees him off, he picks up some groceries on his way back, he locks the door and he gives himself a week to grieve.

In hindsight, expecting to get over killing the love of his life in a week might have been overly optimistic.

He’s promised himself when the time came he’d never do it. There is no point: it won’t make him feel better, and it won’t change the outcome, and he has a high chance of messing up Charles of all people, which makes it not just worthless but outright dangerous, and yet—

And yet when Seb brings out his coloured pencils and charts a course, he finds it’s the first thing he’s been able to accomplish in a month. 

He wonders if there is a moral difference, if sneaking into his past like a thief is made any better by the fact that he seems unable to do anything else. Then he forbids himself to think at all.

In the first safe-house he uses he walks into the bedroom on autopilot and slumps against the wall; it’s never occurred to him, before, that he hasn’t been alone in here for over a decade. It’s one of the stupidest reasons not to use a bed when you have one, and so he puts down his bag, and he washes up, and he gets under the covers.

In the next ones he doesn’t bother trying, collapsing straight onto the couch instead.

He doesn’t let himself think, and he moves, and inverts, and he swallows food to keep himself going, and so when his feet bring him down a corridor he’s been in once already, he finds himself utterly unprepared.

“Did you forget something?” Charles asks, opening the door. He is chewing something; his hair is wet. He is here.

He is here.

He is here.

He is here—

Charles frowns, squinting at him, and plants himself in the gap of the ajar door, his hand firm on the handle.

“When are you from?” he asks.

“Ahead,” Seb says quietly. It’s the first time he’s heard his own voice in weeks. It barely works; he still has to swallow against it, trying to keep it in. It feels like every last part of him is trying to jump out of his body and reach touch feel feel feel

Charles is looking at him; it feels like stepping into the sun after an eternity of living underground.  

“What are you doing here?” Charles asks, and cranes his neck to look into the corridor, confused. “Where is he? I mean, me?”

He doesn’t even need to give Seb a once-over, not with how hard he has to bite into his lip to keep it from trembling.

“Oh, fuck,” Charles says. All this time dreaming of this, and suddenly Seb can’t bear to look at him. 

Charles cups his face in both hands, swipes his thumbs over his cheeks, and Seb melts into it immediately, presses urgently against the touch, trying to drink it in before it disappears. It’s heaven; it’s torture; he can barely breathe.

Charles’s hand is wet on his neck when he guides him into the room, and he realises he is crying. Crap. He thought, somehow, that he might be able to hide why he’s there, might be able to spare him knowing it happens at all, but it’s obvious now; of course it is. Stupid. Idiot.

“It’s okay,” Charles murmurs gently, and Seb is tucked safely against his shoulder, cradled closer like he is precious, when he—he—when it’s his—“It’s okay, I got you, I’m here.”

For now.

Seb wants to scream.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there by the door, Charles practically crushing him against himself, until finally the tension dissipates and he feels as drained as he’s been for the past few months.

There’s nothing quite as exhausting as grief.

Charles makes him tea, and holds him some more, and talks to him and jokes and makes him laugh—a terrible, wet sound, clumsy and alien; Charles still beams at him like he’s never heard anything better.

“I’m so sorry,” Seb says, even though he told himself multiple times not to burden Charles with it. It rips out of him anyway, too strong to hold it in.

“It’s not your fault,” Charles shrugs, and it takes all Seb still has not to curl in on himself.

You don’t understand. I knew. I knew you would go with me, and I knew you would love me, and I knew it would kill you, and I did it anyway. 

“I dragged you into this,” he offers instead, and Charles shrugs again, with baffling levity. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know.” Seb stares for a few long seconds. Then he realises what part is missing: of course Charles knows what they do is dangerous. If only it were all there was—“You’re not subtle, you know.”

“I—” he is what “I don’t—”

“I don’t know all of it,” Charles says, and he rolls his eyes, and if Seb didn’t love him so much he would’ve yelled at him for being so flippant about this. “But I know there is something. So.” He looks away, fiddling with the label of his tea packet, and Seb deflates, recognising his brave front for what it is. He swallows.

“Then I’m sorry,” he says again. Charles, unbelievably, laughs.

“Oh, yeah, I’m very sorry I met you,” he says, shaking his head. “Tragedy.”

“But it doesn’t end well!” Seb implores, forgetting he is not supposed to say it, as if it could help, as if it could save him, as if he could persuade Charles to walk out and live—

“Of course it doesn’t!” Charles snaps. He sighs, rubbing his face, and takes Seb’s hand. “I think, when it’s like this, it always ends bad.” Seb closes his eyes and feels himself shrink, trying to hide and disappear. He knows he tends to ruin everything he touches; it still hurts to hear it put like this.

Charles strokes his knuckles carefully.

“It’s just—” he sighs. “When it ends, I have to be without you, or you have to be without me. So it’s always bad. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have it at all.”

“So the only way out is if we die simultaneously,” Seb tries to joke; Charles makes a face.

“I’d rather know you are okay.”

“You can’t know that if you’re dead,” Seb points out, and Charles hums, balancing his chair on the back legs.

“I think I will always know,” he says with a smirk, aiming for light-hearted, but his eyes are tender on Seb’s face. Seb swallows.

I’m not. I’ll try.

“Take care of yourself,” Charles says as he sees him out.

“You take care of yourself,” Seb says, smacking him on the shoulder, feigning affront. Charles gives him a cheeky smile.

“I have you for that,” he says.

Seb bites his lip.

“I’m not doing a very good job,” he confesses, and Charles cups his face, runs his hand through his hair with a gentle smile. Seb tries not to think about how this is the last time Charles will ever touch him.

“I think you are.”

Seb lets it wash over him, settle warmly in his chest.

He chose this Charles because he thought he could handle it, now. He also chose this Charles because if he couldn’t, he would have his Seb back in a couple of hours, in one piece and wanting nothing more than to hold him and make him feel loved and cherished and adored. 

At least this time around, maybe, maybe, he managed to love him right.

When he gets to the safe-house, he locks the door, crawls into bed, and doesn’t dream.

its so long and ive just realised i ripped off your martian time travel au as well im sorry :'( woe be me

knackered tenet anon are you trying to make me cry??? are you. are you trying to make me curl up on the floor and never get up again???

listen. listen there's something just so tragic about. time. always working against them. i'm forwards but you're backwards. my beginning is your end. did you love me because i set this torturous circle up? would you love me if you knew? how would i ever know? was it worth it?

but charles says, yeah, it's always going to be bad. you send me on my death and at the other edge of the mobius strip i see you die. but does that mean we shouldn't have it? does that mean i'd give this up? no! if the middle is all we have, then the middle it is. i'd rather have all this pain than to not have you at all.

that's the basis of your entire tenet au there are two people willing to walk the loneliest journey just to have pockets of time where they meet i'm going to cry! knackered tenet anon jail for you!!! jail!!!

[archonofdivinity]

it’s crying about chameleon by blixemi hours

[so-true-overdue]

Human-caused climate change is a myth. Just kidding. It's very real, and it's time to face the facts.

Climate change isn't some elaborate hoax cooked up by scientists looking for more research funding. It's a harsh reality backed by mountains of evidence. The ice caps are melting faster than butter on a hot skillet, sea levels are rising like an overflowing bathtub, and extreme weather events are hitting us more frequently than spam emails.

Despite all this, some folks still think it’s all an overblown conspiracy. They clutch at straws, claiming the climate has always changed. Sure, the climate has changed before, but not at this alarming rate. It’s like comparing a gentle drizzle to a full-blown hurricane. Natural processes don't pump billions of tons of CO2 into the atmosphere each year. That's all on us.

Scientists are practically screaming for action. The data is clear: human activities, like burning fossil fuels and deforestation, are driving this mess. But instead of heeding the warnings, some people prefer to stick their heads in the sand, hoping the problem will just go away. Spoiler: it won't.

The evidence is everywhere. Just look at the record-breaking temperatures, the devastating wildfires, and the increasingly intense hurricanes. These aren't isolated incidents. They're the new normal, and they're a direct result of our actions.

So, let’s cut the nonsense. Climate change is real, it's happening now, and we’re the ones causing it. Ignoring the problem won't make it go away. It’s time to face reality and take action before it’s too late. The planet is sending us a clear message. Are we finally ready to listen?

[breezypunk]

one of the rare moments they decide to go on a date. ♥

"It all feels really calm, I forgot how much I loved it here.."

"We can come here everyday if it means seeing that smile on your face, V."

[you-must-be-held-accountable]

Accountability is the bedrock of trust. Without it, society crumbles, professions falter, and relationships decay. The principle of "hue and cry" — raising an alarm when a wrong is witnessed — is a timeless method to uphold this crucial standard. By holding people accountable, we maintain the integrity of our communities and the reliability of our professions.

In the family, accountability fosters respect and honesty. When a family member acts against shared values, addressing it directly ensures everyone understands the importance of these values. This might be as simple as reminding a child to complete their chores or discussing with a sibling about keeping commitments. Such actions, though small, reinforce the fabric of familial trust.

Among friends, accountability strengthens bonds. If a friend behaves irresponsibly, it’s important to speak up. This doesn’t mean confrontation but rather expressing concern and suggesting better choices. When friends hold each other to high standards, it nurtures a supportive and reliable circle.

In the workplace, accountability is indispensable. Professions such as medicine, law, and engineering demand the highest standards of trustworthiness. Imagine a scenario where a doctor notices a colleague neglecting hygiene protocols. By addressing this issue, the doctor not only upholds professional standards but also protects patients. Similarly, a lawyer must ensure peers adhere to ethical practices, safeguarding justice and the profession's reputation.

Holding colleagues accountable can sometimes be challenging, but it’s essential for maintaining a trustworthy work environment. For example, in the tech industry, if a software engineer notices a peer cutting corners in code review, speaking up ensures the integrity of the product and the team's reliability. This culture of accountability leads to better outcomes and a stronger, more cohesive team.

In every facet of life, from personal relationships to professional duties, accountability ensures that standards are met and trust is maintained. By embracing the principle of hue and cry, we contribute to a society where honesty, integrity, and reliability are not just expected but ensured.