#i love doomed yaoi :3

[what-have-i-unleashed]

your hand-grenade heart

gift for lovely moot @qin-qin16. happy early birthday!! (better early than late lol) hope you don't mind lovers-to-enemies (... or is it) crossdust :3

2k+ words of sadness. no warnings applied... i think.

cross isn't sure what part of the multiverse he has stumbled into. it was a stupid decision he made on the fly, opening his own portal inside of nightmare's own to prevent the guardian of negativity from dragging him back to the hell he knows nightmare would love to put him through again. the sudden time-space disruption caused a small implosion to happen, flinging cross across the dimensional stream until he landed face-first into the hard surface of lava-surrounded rocks.

and now, he's here in this barren universe, this empty underground, walking all the way to the lab to figure out where he is. the dead silence is messing with him quite a bit - an unfortunate aftereffect after living in a white space with virtually no one else (apart from xchara) for who knows how long. he takes a deep breath in and marches forward, resolutely ignoring the deluge of frantic thoughts starting to bubble up in his mind.

when he finally arrives at his destination, the first thing he does is checking the security footage on the computer in the lab, which dates back at least two years as he can see. he skims through the footage - no soul pops up on the monitor at all. this place has been dead for a long time, which is... unsettling. is this a pacifist timeline where monsterkind has all moved to the surface? or is this a failed genocide timeline that the human refused to properly delete for some reason? either way, he has to get out of here as fast as possible.

the thing is, his multiverse travel token has been broken since his fall into this universe. without xchara's powers, cross is essentially out of luck. he doesn't think he's knowledgeable enough about the mechanics behind travel tokens to fix his own.

which means he's basically a sitting duck for anyone coming across him right now. nightmare will find him before dream can, judging by how hard cross is sweating right now.

happy thoughts, cross! he thinks to himself. happy thoughts!

easier said than done, honestly. being stuck in an angel-damned universe with no obvious dimensional travel technology is a terrible situation.

... wait. he just remembers something. killer and dust often commented on how the machine in the basement under the snowdin's house is probably designed for time-space shenanigans. it might be broken, as it is usually is in most universes, but maybe its magic signature is similar enough to that of a travel token for him to charge the token up again.

it is a farfetched idea, but he has to try regardless.

his trip to snowdin is less nerve-wracking than he thought. there's something both soothing and frightening about the white snowy landscape. there's a familiar scent in the air, an electrifying taste in the snowfall that makes cross stop in his tracks.

... it can't be, right?

cross opens the door to the house at the end of snowdin, and-

-and dust greeted him with a tired mumble from the couch. cross grinned and stole a quick peck on dust's forehead, making the hooded skeleton blink in surprise at him.

"rough day?" cross asked, to which dust nodded, quieter than he usually was. an especially tough day then.

cross hummed, joining his boyfriend on the couch. he snuggled into dust's slightly larger frame, and dust made a half-indignant half-pleased purr in his throat. cross purred back, stretching himself so that his cheek was pressed on dust's collarbones. he saw, from the corner of his eyes, dust clenching and unclenching his hands by his sides, as if he was conflicted on whether to hold cross in his arms or not. dust's body was cold, but cross didn't mind that. he waited for his body heat to gradually trickle to dust, his layered uniform keeping him warm enough in this forever-snowy weather.

as time went by, dust hesitantly wrapped his arms around cross and pulled him closer. both of them stayed there on the couch, indulging in each other's closeness. cross let out a satisfied rattle deep inside his bones. he wished this idyllic scene could go on forever and ever and-

-and he feels like he has been blasted back to the past. the couch is still the same, or maybe it has gotten even dustier. it doesn't surprise him - he was the tidier between them two after all. what surprises him is that the house is not destroyed. everything is the same as it was, as if stuck in time, a photograph of a memory left untouched in a house of still lingering ghosts. cross traces his hands on the coffee table. his hand picks up a fine layer of dust.

his feet lead him to the kitchen next, where he sees the first sign of difference: a bunch of wine bottles discarded on the floor that no one has bothered to clean up. the fridge is not closed, emitting another breeze of coldness into the atmosphere. cross sits at the dining table, as if he's in a trance, as if he's dreaming. it's been so long, and yet everything is the same.

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to feel. he puts his shaky hands on the table and-

-and waited for dust to put his plate on the table. it was a bit embarrassing, being shooed off the kitchen because he didn't know how to cook anything else but soldier rations. dust was kind enough to ban him to the dining table and order him to stay still so he could fix the surprise, now fire hazard, that cross had intended for his boyfriend.

when dust placed the dish in front of cross, the soldier didn't know what to do but hang his head in shame. dust took the seat across from him and started eating.

"dig in," dust told him, and cross reluctantly picked up his spoon and slowly ate through it.

"uhm, look..." cross stammered, embarrassed. "i'm sorry about the fire. i didn't know the stove would do that..."

"it's fine," dust said, flippantly. "it wasn't a big fire anyway."

"yeah, but still..."

"i think it's quite cute of you to try to cook a surprise meal for me, cross," dust interrupted what cross had to say, and cross flushed.

"oh! uh..." cross scratched his head, laughing nervously. "it's our one-year anniversary. i just wanted to make you something nice..."

dust looked at him, a smile in his white eyelights. "like i said, it's cute. i appreciate it." he looked down at his plate. "no one has given me a nice gift in a long time."

cross felt his face get even hotter. he placed his spoon on the table, ready to say the words he'd been putting off for a while, and-

-and he resists the urge to flip it. is it anger singing in his veins, or frustration? or something else? he can't tell. all the memories here are suffocating in its sweetness, as if taunting him with a past that is no more.

it's dangerous to feel this way towards an enemy. it's his job now to protect other people from nightmare and his gang. penance for what he has done.

and yet, he can't help walking up the stairs. he can't help opening the door to their bedroom. he can't help staring at the untouched state of it. his - or more like dust's now - little plushies are still on his corner of the bed they have picked and put in the room. his shelf of comics are still there next to dust's shelf full of fiction novels. the crudely molded little ceramic rabbit he has made for dust still sits on the table, facing the window. everything is the same as it was. the same as the day he left dust behind.

*creaaak*

he doesn't know how long he has stood there at the doorway, but when he hears a click at the front door, his panic skyrockets. he quickly dashes inside the closet (where he briefly finds his monochrome clothes are still there) and holds his breath as he hears creaking footsteps coming upstairs and into the room.

peeking through the gap of the doors, he sees him. dust. his ex-lover. sitting silently on the bed, unmoving, staring outside of the window with his dull white eyelights. it's usually unsettling to see a silent dust on the battlefield, but in the domestic atmosphere of the house, dust's silence reads more as melancholic than dangerous. cross hasn't seen him like this in a long time. so still. so tranquil. so... pitiful. gone is the ferocious cannon of nightmare - what's left here is a broken vestige of a lonely being, trapping himself inside a house stuck in the past. he looks unhealthy, as if one breeze can take him down easily.

cross moves to see his former flame better, but then he accidentally steps on a coat hanger. a loud sound echoes in the silent space. and the figure on the bed twitches.

"who's there?" a murmur comes out of the hooded skeleton. cross doesn't dare breathe. dust continues, "come on. i know you're there. show your face."

cross doesn't obey. he stays still in the closet as dust walks around the place, his voice gradually getting louder.

"killer, i swear to asgore's beard, if i found you in here... i told you to get the fuck out of this universe!" a little mutter. "... yeah, yeah, you're right, paps. killer doesn't disobey nightmare, does he? must be someone else..."

cross can hear his soul beating frantically. dust walks back into the room, looking around and continuing to mumble to himself.

"might be that prissy error... though he wouldn't be stupid to destroy this universe... but that freak is crazy..."

dust swivels his head to the closet that cross is hiding in, his eyes a blazing red and blue. in a soul-stopping second, cross doesn't care that he doesn't know this place well enough anymore to do a shortcut, but he does anyway, teleporting himself to the middle of the living room. he stumbles upon crashing on the coffee table, and runs out of the front door once he hears the loud demented cackle from dust.

"i knew you're there!" he hears dust shout in delight.

cross runs and runs, uncaring of his injuries. his mind is a jumbled mess and his shallow breath is fogging up his already blurred vision.

he's gonna kill me, his inner voice yells at him. he's gonna kill me for sure. he never forgives me.

a bone attack sprouts from the ground and punctures his leg. with a pained yelp, cross collapses just as a heavy weight appears on top of him, one hand holding on his sternum.

"you fucking rat, i caught you!" he hears dust crow. "you think you can run from m-" the voice suddenly stops. "... cross?"

the grip on his sternum momentarily falters, and cross doesn't hesitate jabbing his smaller daggers right at dust's stunned face. the hooded skeleton falls back, and cross grabbed at dust's travel token, which he always keeps under his shirt, and yanks.

cross kicks at dust, hard, and wobbles on his feet again and runs. as if awaken from a nap, dust shouts, "wait! cross, wait!"

cross doesn't listen. he tries to keep as much distance as possible from dust, haphazardly teleporting through the snowy forest, all the while calibrating the co-ordinations of the token. his pain is at the back of his mind as he forces his body to power through the adrenaline.

"darling, please! don't run away!"

cross punches the co-ordinations he wants to go and pours his magic into the token. he sees it light up and breathes out a sigh of relief.

"cross!" he looks back and sees dust a few feet from him. "cross, i-"

he doesn't hear the next words coming out of dust's mouth. light envelops him as his body fractures into tiny particles traveling through the in-between of the multiverse. the last thing his eyes see before disappearing is the strange emotion on the face of his ex-lover, frozen in an anguished expression with red tears running down his cheeks. it doesn't look like dust at all.

huh. what a silly mirage he encounters.

dividers here by @\cafekitsune

[sakuraluck]

this moment will never fail to make me feral bc he gave up!!! till, the boy who rebels even when all it does is get him hurt, the one who burns as brightly as the stars in the sky, the flame that lasted for almost two decades finally gave up!!! he snuffed out!! he closed him eyes and stopped fighting!! do you understand how devastating that is??

especially to ivan who idolizes and adores him for it?? who has only ever known till for his never-ending love and will that never falters? to see the man he loves broken down like this—a hurt that extends far beyond that of the physical body but to his soul— must’ve been terrible

and you can see it

ivan’s crumpling too. his mental state is on the verge of snapping too. his shoulders are dropped and his eyes are bloodshot.

till’s given up and ivan can see it and as his hands tighten around the other’s neck, a voice whispers what if you don’t let go?

because that’s what till wants right? he isn’t going to win against luka like this. he wants to die and no matter what ivan does, it’s not going to change that. so why not kill him?

that way they can die together.

wouldn’t that be wonderful?

ivan has always had a great potential for darkness and he holds it back most of the time, rarely ever letting it come to the surface. it wouldn’t be far off to assume this was one of those moments, where emotions are high and last minute regrets and wishes are surging forth—it isn’t far off to think there was a small part of him that was seriously contemplating throwing away his decision to sacrifice himself alone.

but then he gets shot in the chest, through the lungs, and the pain snaps him out of it. because this is it. this is the end. and he remembers why he’s doing this.

he remembers his desire to save till despite how foolish as it may be, how hypocritical it may be. the light reappears in his eyes and it’s ivan in love again. it’s ivan swelling with pure love, looking at till for last time.

it’s ivan doing the one thing he’s never been able to do:

it’s ivan letting go

[owlsdrawinglair]

Just finished the first 3 episodes,

I log onto Tumblir and

[redspleen]

oh, to tighten my hands around the waist of something violent

[arkarti]

YOU PROMISED US WILLRY ART

shhh I know, I'm on it 😳

here, have this in the meantime: William being a cocky bitch <3

the answer is: no he can't be more professional when it comes to Henry. it will land him in situations like these, and he ain't complaining~

[introvert-slushie]

Parallels of Stanford and Fiddleford

I just realized something, I think someone already stated this so this isn’t an original opinion.

The way Ford was obsessed with his muse: Bill parallels the way Fiddleford was obsessed with Ford.

Instead like it is unhealthy for both, because if you really think about it. Ford didn’t focus on Fiddleford much when he met Bill. Then Fiddleford either didn’t focus on his wife and kid when he was working with Ford. Fiddleford chose to work with Ford. People forget that both Ford and Fiddleford are technically selfish in way that they wanted to work on something else and ignore the other love that they deserve probably. Or already had.

Also you could say that Fiddleford was trying to impress Ford with intelligence and gifts and Ford was trying to impress Bill with his intelligence and the portal. Again I wouldn’t say Ford was as bad as Bill, of course. Bill manipulated Ford a ton and put him through torture.

It’s just neat to see the differences in how Fiddleford and Stanford’s choices affected their lives.

[flowersnax]

this is how the world ends:

not with a bang, but with a whimper.

[yumiiac3]

Can't stop drawing yamato..

[castiels-slinky]

Danbert HCs!!!

Dan is the only person who can actually convince Herbert to take a break. Even then, it's almost impossible, but hey.

Herbert isn't the best with PDA, but he's a big fan of holding hands or snuggling at home.

Dan, on the other hand, loves PDA, but he's super understanding of Herbert not being a fan!!!!

Quality time, acts of service, and gifts are Herbert's love languages.

Quality time, words, physical affection, and acts of service are Dan's!

Being very tactile, Herbert enjoys just touching Dan, though he'd never admit to this. He gets very embarrassed when it's brought up.

Both Herb and Dan kind of see the Bride as their kid, but don't treat her like one. They try to treat her like a normal person, albeit with some obvious differences.

Herbert gets jealous rather easily. He'll see Dan being so caring with a patient and get upset, but Dan's always there to remind him that he's the one he loves.

On top of being the only one to convince Herbert to take a break, Dan's also the only one that Herbert lets his guard down for. Herbert has a bit more emotion than he shows, and Dan's honored to be able to see the more vulnerable part of him.

Herbert is also easily flustered. He will never admit it. Dan knows, though. He loves to tease Herb about it.

HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REQ HEADCANONS IN MY INBOX!!!! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!

[max-the-silly-guy]

they're dancing to vampire reference in minor key by will wood

[rouwaa143]

shut up and just obey me.

obey. obey. obey me.

please. please. please. please.

(different versions under the cut)

song that the image is based on is dokuzu (scum of the earth)

[karxx]

I love prideshipping in the way that no matter how much they want eachother, they can’t be together. They are both prideful people, hence the ship name, who are too prideful to say what they really want. But in the end, they both ran out of time. And someone like Kaiba who is adamant about choosing his own future, cannot let something he wants out of his grasp. But then there’s someone like Atem, who takes pride in his past now, thinks in his heart and believes that this is the only way, to accept his fate.

[kikolagito]

living the dream (drawing gay shit because i got sad)

[the-cpu-system]

Listened to "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart" and thought of Rhack and now I have THOUGHTTTSSS

(adapted from a ramble on discord ,,)

just . the idea of them both being such baddd fucking people that bring out the insane ups and downs of each other . jacks accidental grasp on every situation and the accierntal force of evrything revolving around him so he can never jsut . have something okay with Rhys because Jack lacks that real human push of being able to just . be happy with somene and sacrifice his own emotions for them ? jack, who only knows manipulation and dirty, rough betrayal and sly backstabs and exploitation and then being told "you can be good, jack, you can be good- you make me happy, we can be heroes, we're a good team" and jsut knowing that thats not . JUST KNOWNG THATS NOTTTT

and rhys knowing that these sweet nothings are truly jsut nothings and having this stupid hope that jack is different, jack is nice- its not the real one so he must be different a - GSHRGRH !!

thm both having expectations and stupid hope for maybe something different even though both of them are so flawed in themselves that they bring out the worsts???? because a moment between them can be so happy, so alive, so good, then one of them says something wrong and that scale inevitably tips to the bad once again???? AND ITS THIS PERFECT IMBALANCE OF "WE WORK WELL TOGETEHR JSUT NOT TOO CLOSE"

people who like passionately hate rhack confuse me because like sures its not your cup of tea but its a beautiful trash pile of two fucked up people who try to make a garden in a drought..

and thats not even ALL OF IT THATS JUST PRE ATLAS RHYS

THE IDEA OF RHYS HOLDING ONTO THAT EYE, DESPARATE FOR THAT SOMETHING THEY MIGHT HAEV AGAIN?? CUS HEY, HE MAY BE BAD BUT HE ALSO MADE RHYS FEEL SO GOOD/NSXI .

and

and the idea of Rhys, after going through everything, hardened up, tough Rhys, holding this small hope he'd be different and bringing him back on that foolish hope that sent him falling in the first place? (which that is slightly supported in game by a spot where Rhys talks to fiona and lb and is like "he was my idol," or something like that and hes all reluctant to answer and embarrassed almost)

and the idea that no, Jack didnt change- OR THE IDEA HE DID! Rhys gave him something he definitely never got in his brief human contact before . i mean he was stuck with nakayama, who promptly died- and he was stuck as this static … villain almost . rhys gave him real contact- rhys gave him dynamic! rhys gave him things to pick up and adapt on!! jsut the real huamn nature of trust and emotions and trust.

and the idea that jack does change- stuck in isolation and he changes

would rhys ever avtually consider that? would he ever bring jack back? or would he let the grudge from the betrayal fester and eventually break or lock up the eye later down the line, dooming them both to just distant yearning???

[merriclo]

what if i write a modern au vidow fic where they’re both pissed off little emo kids. and what if they were also lesbians.

[mymarifae]

why don't you like blade :(

oh i don't dislike him! i just don't care. totally different thing

everything i've seen of him in game so far PLUS alllllllll those leaks hasn't been enough. like. as of Right Now there's nothing for me to latch onto and pick at. the whole "dan heng's past life's ex-husband/fiance" may be enough for some people but i just do not gaf 😭 i need. to see quite a bit more of him before i can even start getting into the territory of actual like/dislike