#i mean it's not like a god died or anything but still

[podsprout]

malevolent TMA crossover where it’s MAG 195 Adrift Jon (picking up Basira in his rowboat) and then sometime between Part 7 and 9 of Malevolent either heading to the island or leaving it (post being arrested and then half-drowned and mostly died and then also being a little boat)

Idk what happens exactly but Jon is rowing and Arthur is rowing and then they see each other (well John sees Jon but you get what I mean) and idk what kind of conversation they have but Jon is probably fascinated by what these two have going on and Arthur is still learning to grow tough to the horrors (and and also just mostly died) so he really doesn’t have it in him to deal with eye avatar bullshit.

John is like. “Arthur… something about this man isn’t right… Jesus Christ Arthur his eyes!”

And Arthur is like “Hey are you actively about to drown me or hurt me?”

Jon: “uh no? Why would I do that”

Arthur: “do you work for evil eldritch gods that’s typically why people want me dead these days.”

Jon: “….well, I mean, technically,”

John: “Arthur we need to kill him!”

Arthur: “yeah so even if I wanted to do that, which I don’t, I don’t think i have the energy for that. I am barely hanging on as is. I couldn’t fight a kitten right now.”

John: “but aOrthur he’s dangerous!! He works for the King in Yellow!”

Jon: “…I can hear you. Both of you. Just so you know. Also who the fuck is—wait I just learned—okay wait WHAT—“

And then they puzzle over the liminal space between worlds that is this body of water, misunderstandings get cleared up, Arthur is very happy to talk to an Englishman (or anyone really) that doesn’t want to kill him, and Jon empathizes with Arthur still in season one of his horror podcast protag Journey and is endlessly fascinated by whatever dynamic John and Arthur have going on.

And then Jon leaves like “yeah sorry gotta go pick up a cop…friend? Cop acquaintance. Of mine. To gave backup to go to the evil house and save my boyfriend from a spider woman.”

And I mean what do Arthur and John even have to say to that? Jon doesn’t know shit about who John is or how to help them or anything bc that’s not knowledge the Eye has seen but he’s like yeah good luck and then they rowboat away.

[allthesemechanismsbutnocoping]

Von Raum caught the supplies and got to work, gently dabbing the burn cream on the burnt skin. "Fuck," he whispered, loosely wrapping the burns. They weren't so bad, but they were bad enough. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up," he pleaded desperately.

"This is good," Tim said after a beat. "I mean, it's not good, but it is! They're getting hurt in their... afterlife? And this means they haven't gone. They're still in there fighting like hell to get out." He looked over Lyf, who still looked as peaceful and lifeless as before, but now with a rather nasty burn. "It's got to count for something, right?"

Jonny shrugged, sat next to Marius with his legs crossed. "It's a silver lining, at least. You hear that, Von Raum? Your partner isn't all gone."

It was news. It was good news. Von Raum stared at Edda and kissed their forehead again. "Fight like hell, mein lieber."

-------------------------------------

'Mein lieber,' a familiar voice whispered and Edda looked around. "Marius?" they asked, looking around. "Marius?!"

There was no one. At least, Lyf was assuming so. They stepped forward into the darkness, trying to keep their breathing even. They hated the dark. They hated the dark and being alone and being alone in the dark. It reminded them of all those months on that broken ship. They died for the first time when they were alone and they gave themself to a God when they were alone.

It was fitting that they'd meet there again, wasn't it?

They moved on, seeing stars ahead. Stars... so many of them. The stars were brighter than anything Lyf had seen before. They had to cover their eyes as they entered the cockpit, sitting down at the pilots seat.

After a brief pause, Edda cleared their throat. "Is it time now?"

There was silence. Only silence. Just as Lyf was about to move on, they felt a tickle in their throat and coughed. And coughed again. And again. He were suddenly struggling to breathe. They stood and stumbled away from the control panel, stepping through the door and stepping into the train. That fucking train!

Falling to their hands and knees, they started heaving. A thick, black substance spilled from their mouth on to the floor. Edda's eyes widened and filled with tears as a tentacle forced its way out, live and squirming. Where was the rest of it? Edda had a feeling they knew.

-----------------------------------------

On the outside, that inky black liquid spilled from Edda's mouth and Von Raum was panicked, turning their head and laying them in the ground so they didn't choke on it.

https://www.tumblr.com/doctorbarontsct/765335072373178368/when-marius-sees-the-flash-of-rainbow-hair-out-of?source=share

"Someone took away your Jonny's harmonics privileges. They can't figure out where I keep finding mine, so they can't take away mine," Jonny said as he played on.

"Jonny," Brian said finally. "Cut the shit before I tell Raphaella to take your brain out and put you in a jar until it grows back. Again. Marius is very obviously not well, and you're picking a fight with him. Please, love." He sighed, looking over Marius once again. "Okay. So, it's been a few weeks since you could last move your arm. This slug is likely what's preventing you from being able to move it, and we don't want to do anything until we have somewhere to safely put it."

Tim hummed. "Jar could work. I'm just saying we should think about putting in the jar."

"You just want to give it to Raphaella so she stops pouting her science projects dying," Jonny grumbled.

Tim just smiled. "Is that so wrong?"

[ @allthesemechanismsbutnocoping ]

"That's about it, I think?" Marius said. He willfully doesn't think about the amount of food he's had over the last few weeks. Or sleep. Or the toe thing, or the mines, or the fact that his other arm is still not working, or the number of things he didn't even mention on Tumblr because he thought this universe's Lyf would have a heart attack.

It's not like that lightning strike did any permanent damage anyway.

"But yeah, somewhere to put it safely, and we're sure taking it out won't make things worse," he added, because that seemed like a very important point he'd made, and he didn't want anyone forgetting that one.

[hms-no-fun]

Oh yeah the big pickups to work in an office job infuriate me to no end. A whole parking lot full of death machines that have never known the touch of a gravel road or hauled anything larger than a big Costco run. I have a nice lil electric hatchback tho.

the thing is, i always wanted a car. my parents took me on a lot of road trips when i was growing up (i remember a couple years before he died, my dad told me he was very proud to have shown me so much of the country when he himself had grown up poor and could only travel as far as the next job took him), so of course i have in me that quintessential American longing for The Road. in high school, i fantasized about getting into a car and disappearing into traffic, traveling to some distant corner where nobody lived and finding a situation to occupy. god help me, as a teen i bemoaned being born too late and longed for the naive vision of the 60s i'd received from my parents and pop culture and the rusted-over kitsch that dotted the remains of Route 66 (which my dad loved to talk about).

i hate car culture in part because i used to love car culture. it's a microcosm of indoctrinated American patriotism in general. they sell you on the dream, right? the freedom of travel, of expression. i wanted to be the millennial Jack Kerouac, whose work i did not actually read because i was young and dumb and drowning in dysphoria. but as i got older i saw how quickly little bumps and scratches can turn into massive financial burdens, to say nothing of cracked windshields or flat tires. then my mom died and i was given the responsibility of handling her car, a silver scion xb. i was 19, i did not have a license and had next to zero experience driving, nor had i ever had a job before. when i say "given the responsibility to handle her car" instead of "given her car," i mean that i didn't just get her car. like, i had it, i had the keys and no one was around to tell me not to drive it. but in order to get the title signed over to me, i had to go through an insane bureaucratic process of proving that my mom was dead, and that i was her kid, and that i should have the title to the car. this took months of back and forth miscommunication as dated notices were sent and bills piled up. because it wasn't just the car i got, but the debt as well. some $30,000 of it left unpaid by mom, which i was now expected to pay in her stead. my first job was working night shifts at a wal mart stocking the frozen food department, and that was the job where i rode my bike on the highway to get to work. i didn't drive because i didn't have a license, didn't have experience, was terrified of highway drivers, and knew very distinctly that if anything went wrong i'd instantly be in so much more debt (monetary and bureaucratic) than i already was. eventually my sister, a career nurse with three kids and a house, took over the car from me.

nobody understood why i didn't drive that car more. even my mom, when she was still alive, she said "when i was your age, i was dying to get out of the house." i was too! but for all that cars culturally represented freedom, in practice what they came to represent to me was the expected cost of participating in society. i was already sensitive to adults sneering at me for my perceived immaturity (the joys of being a millennial), which only compounded on learning that i didn't have a car or license, that i wasn't proactively joining Clubs or Organizations, that i wanted to pursue the arts of all things, that i wasn't Christian, etc etc etc. i never got out to see live music because i didn't have a car and didn't have money. i didn't get my first smart phone until late 2015. i spent a lot of my college years feeling alienated because i was at least two years older than everyone else (i already didn't want to go to college straight out of high school even before my mom died), still used a flip phone, and didn't have a car. which is to say i was a working class person trying to get by in a middle class institution. and i only got in because i was very good at peddling my sob story for sympathy points. FAFSA loves to finance the odd tragedy, i'm telling you (don't worry, i still had to take on a ton of student loan debt). when i expressed to family that i didn't want a car because i didn't feel safe as a driver, and felt that i shouldn't need to have a car in order to participate in society, they said "everyone feels that way at first, but you just have to get over it. or move to a big city. good luck affording that!" as a related aside, when i told those same people that i liked being in college for the pursuit of knowledge and wanted to graduate towards being a sort of generalist, they flatly insisted that that's not how college works anymore, and that i should instead put my energies towards a Useful Degree that would Get Me A Good Job.

of course they were sympathetic, at least on the surface. they told me these things in a kind tone, the way adults always do when what they're saying boils down to "it's not fair, but life ain't fair." and i've just never been able to accept that. before i knew anything about socialism or communism or materialist dialectics, when i was still very much under the thrall of post-Clinton liberalism, i still felt this deep-rooted conviction that when people said "life isn't fair," they were giving up something. that it was an excuse, an appeal to a higher power, a resignation to the status quo. my experience with cars, by the time i hit 25, was that you bought them for the freedom they promised, and then spent of your life driving that car between one of maybe five locations on the regular and doing very little else. the only time i ever felt free in a car was on a road trip, which happened with vanishing irregularity as all the associated costs skyrocketed in the 2000s. all the other time was spent driving in circles looking for parking, only to balk at how expensive it was. spent stuck in traffic for hours, amid concrete dunes of overpasses tangled with one another like a four-year-old's first try at tying their own shoes. spent angrily judging the poor driving conduct of other people, spent resenting anyone and everyone who inconvenienced their drive, spent rubbernecking at horrific accidents on the side of the road, spent worrying about car payments and insurance payments and how much it's gonna cost to get a tune-up, and then someone breaks in and steals all your stuff and your insurance doesn't want to pay for it, and then you get into an accident and you spend months haggling with your insurance and their insurance in the hopes that someone will maybe pay for the debt you've had to take on in getting your car repaired, because of course professional life doesn't take a break just because your mode of transportation got totaled.

and if i was applying for a job and the employer found out i didn't have a car, i was denied on the spot. i learned very quickly to lie about such things as often as possible. but i also learned that i could only bluff for so long before the lack of a car became a genuinely insurmountable hurdle. which fucked me up tremendously because at no point in my adult life, to this day, can i ever imagine being able to afford all the associated costs of having a car. in many respects, not having a car was the only reason i was able to survive the way i did. it meant i could work part-time while i was in school (with student loans making up the shortfall), share an apartment with two or three or four other people, and just barely have enough to eat the bare minimum and go see a movie sometimes. of course i wanted the freedom all my car-owning friends had, but mostly i wanted it so i could drive out into the middle of nowhere at night and be truly alone. i wanted a car so that i could escape from the frictional sandpaper bureaucracy of american existence... and i knew from experience by then that that's simply not how the world works.

it took me until 2020 to finally move to seattle, one of those mythical Big Cities with Actually Existing Public Transit. and holy shit, it's a revelation! i have better access the place where i live now than i ever have, and it's a freedom that costs SO MUCH LESS than the same would've cost me back home. but i've also lived here long enough now to see all the ways in which our transit system here is deeply flawed and run by the wrong people. i see many of the same forces at play here as i did back home. i see now how car owners and allies to the car dealership fiefdoms of the nation utilize car ownership and road maintenance as a tremendous lever of power. they've deliberately trapped us in this cycle of poverty and personal transportation reliance, and used the money they got from us buying their cars to then buy politicians so that they defund public transit and oppose any urbanist reforms. did you know that much of america used to be covered by street cars and rail lines? if you live in the midwest or on the west coast, your town very likely only exists the way it does because of mass public transit. they were necessary for bringing people into these remote places to create new markets for wealth extraction. once the population in those places was stable, and mass-produced personal vehicles became the norm, the capitalists of those areas deliberately allowed the transit networks to "go bankrupt" (ie they pretended transit is a business and not a utility that pretty much by definition can't turn a profit in a traditional manner) so they could be bought up and liquidated by future car dealers. this is what i think of when i remember my family telling me "that's just not the way the world works."

why? it used to be the way the world worked. why can't it be again? if the current status quo is the result of choices that created economic pressures which shaped the nature of society, why can't we do the same thing again but different? the way things are now is sick. it's unhealthy. the vast majority of microplastics come from car rubber, and what socioeconomic classes do you think are mostly likely to live close to high-traffic roads? it's not rich people, i'll tell you that. it's not the car dealers or the small city councils worried that a bus connection might bring the poors in. when i say "car owners need to be oppressed" i'm talking about these people. suburban supremacist dictators and their sycophantic liege lords whose biggest priorities in life are to keep gas prices low and to maintain their god-given right to never having to see a poor person. i hate these people because i've been sneered at by them my whole life, while they have been personally responsible for many of the same socioeconomic conditions which resulted in the deaths of both my parents, along with many other members of my extended family. i've long since stopped believing in the idea of "death by natural causes." only the rich live long enough to die old. the rest of us die by a thousand cuts borne of neglect. our healthcare is gatekept, our education is gatekept, our transportation is gatekept. freedom is a thing to be bought, and when you don't have money, the next best thing is your blood. you give it up for a piece of something and you convince yourself that it's enough for you. but it is only a piece, and its apportionment is the result of greed and avarice happening in broad daylight all around us. i fully believe that a genuine war will need to be waged against the car barons before this horrendous now can be toppled, and it will be a war because they are aligned with the cops and with capital. this, too, is a microcosm, and in it we see the nature of our struggle for socialism unburdened by neoliberal word salad.

people have made the world this way. and people will make it something else.

[cakepoppresent]

Let Me Beat His Ass

A few things

Lol poor Daisuke his future wife is going through it and hasn't been returning his texts or calls

Malcolm truly is a big baby. Since Malcolm has been told "no" by Luna he doesn't know how to react. He's taking her wanting to see Andre as a personal attack against him rather than his sister just wanting to find out the truth.

Love Veronica and Luna, in an alt time they would have been GREAT

Transcript under the cut ~

Luna: She’s looking into it, she trying to find this “source”, Chantel isn’t saying who told her

The comments under the pic (it's much smaller on a phone than a computer)

@toucanman - I fucking knew it a rich girl like her would never actually be nice, she was just hiding her bitch ass attitude

@coochielicker - This isn’t the Luna I stan! All SMZ does is lie lie and LIE. Shes been acting for years and its only now shes a diva? Stop playing with my good sis!

@flo- Hmmm...I can see it tho, shes from a super wealthy family its probably her way or no way but who cares was anyone even hurt?

@fruitysims - LOL ive been waiting on something to come out on this hoe. Her nice girl shtick was so overbearing now her true colors are coming out. Thank god

----------------------

Veronica: What did Destiny say? Is she gonna do anything about this?

Veronica: You should send her bitch ass a lawyers letter or something. Can’t be legal to spread malaious rumors like that

Luna: I dunno. I’d rather find this source

Veronica: Where the hell is that man of yours? He must have connections he can use

Luna: Probably... he’s been calling but I don’t even have the time to deal with him right now. Malcolm that bitch still won’t talk to me and now Andre’s face is all over the news and my bitch Dad hasn't even called. It's...a lot right now

Veronica: Let’s travel then, How about Tomarang or Tartosa? Just until everything dies down and you figure out what to do next

Luna: No...I don’t want to leave Andre to deal with this alone and Malcolm is gonna crash out once he sees this online...I can’t leave right now

Veronica: Get off your phone babes. Reading all these comments is going to make you feel worse.

Luna: This is fucking awful and I miss Malcolm, can’t believe his ass won’t talk to me. Benji gives me updates but I’d like to meet Andre with Malcolm.

Veronica: Malcolm is the biggest fucking baby you gotta force him to see reason. If you don’t he’s just gonna pout and mop all day. Let me talk to him

Luna: What are you gonna do? Beat him up?

Veronica: Yes? Beat him up verbally at least. You’re hurting and he needs to get over himself, I'll help him see reason

Luna: He really does listen to you. Don’t be too harsh on him

Veronica: Hush. It's important you guys deal with this Andre thing. Malcolm needs to at least hear him out and stop punishing you for wanting to talk to Andre

Luna: Hahaha Malcolm has always been so sensitive, I wonder where he gets his bitch ass attitude from

Luna: V... it's been hell these past few days. It means a lot that you’re here with me now

Veronica: Babe. You’re basically my sister and I love you. Whatever is happening now will pass I know it will.

Luna: Feels like it's never going to end everything is going to fucking shit. I’ve never fought with Malcolm like this and Benji doesn’t know what to do he hates being in the middle of all this

Veronica: Sleep it off. I can’t help with what's going on online but I can and I WILL speak with Malcolm okay?

Luna: Okay...

Veronica: No more tears babe. I’ll beat his ass up if I have to. Just wait for my call okay?

Veronica: Love you too babes

Luna: Love you V

[naehja]

Beefleaf prompt Au where the real Ming Yi manages to escape from Black Water Manor and returns to Heaven. He's terribly weak but he goes directly to the most importants officials to tell that the one they thought to be the Earth Master since years is actually Black Water.

He Xuan is discovered and must escape from Heaven after have been revealed.

He escaped a trap set by the most experimented gods, who even put Qingxuan in danger in this trap (Shi Wudu was pissed when he realized that his brother was in danger in the trap and that it's Black Water who saved him).

Shi Wudu realizes who is Black Water after a short confrontation between them. He quickly erases all the proofs who could reveals he exchanged the fate of He Xuan with the fate of Qingxuan. Nobody know what he did and Black Water can't proove it. And who would believe a supreme ghost who has pretended to be a god for years?

The Heaven investigate and destroy Black Water manor. He Xuan manages to go away with the funeral urns of his family.

Qingxuan is confused. He didn't live the trauma of Black Wter Arc, the betrayal, the death of his brother by the hands of the one he thought to be his best friend…his heart has not be crushed. But he doesn't understand. He feel a little betrayed because he can't stop wonder if he didn't have been used.

If Black Water is so bad, why did he spend all this time with him? He wasn't forced to be his friend, to share so much things with him so why did he do it? Why did he save him from the trap set by those gods?

Why his brother forbid him to search him for answer.

"He's dangerous Qingxuan"

"He'll kill you if you go to meet him"

"Yes he didn't hurt you before but he has no reason to wear a mask now."

Shi Qingxuan didn't understand "But Ge, he saved me"

Shi Wudu tries to convince him like "It's not because he has some morals that he really cares. Don't forget he pretended to be a god for years, pretened to be someone else. The Real Earth Master could have died in this manor, alone and forgotten by everyone since nobody would have knew his fate. He probably used you to make his cover better."

Qingxuan also realize that the real Ming Yi is very different of Black Water when he was pretending to be him. Somewhere it's relieving him because he think "he was himself with me, right?

Shi Wudu doesn't let him get out of Heaven alone anymore. Which annoy him a lot. like A LOT. But he manages to do it. And arrives on a beach. He doesn't know how contact Black Water. A little part of him is afraid.

But he decides to use their private spiritual array. The one between both of them. That only them could use to speak with each other. They had created him years ago. Ming Yi (or rather Black Water) was annoyed but still used it.

"Ming…Black Water? I want to speak with you, i want to see you. Please? I…we spend so much time together. not everything was a lie, right?"

At his big surprise…Black Water answers.

"Qingxuan?'

He doesn't have the time to say anything that he feel a presence behind him and two arms catching him.

"you brother didn't tell you to not leave Heaven alone?" say a cold voice at his ear. "Didn't he tell you i'm dangerous?" He's tall, taller that when he was Ming Yi. He was sharp teeths. His hands, his skin, are so cold. But his breath burn Qingxuan's skin. He shivers to feel this body against him.

"Yes he forbid me to leave Heaven alone. but i wanted to speak with you"

"ho didn't he tell you WHY i was dangerous for YOU?"

"What do you mean?"

Black Water starts to laugh, bitterly "of course he didn't tell you. He's probably not very proud, and he knows how much you'll be pissed if you knew"

"What….do you mean. What Ge did to you? Why i have something to do with that?"

Black Water bites her earlobe, before purring "why don't you come to my new home so i can explain that to you" He smiles "well it sound just like a proposition, but it's not. You don't have the choice."

"Black Water, what….what do you want?" His cheeks are burning, his heart was beating faster.

"Your brother took my most importants persons of my life. I'll take his most important person from him." He catches Qingxuan's wrist, stopping him to use his fan "I planned to kill him but taking you away of him is a lot better, right?" A laugh "And for answers to your question. Not everything was a lie Qingxuan. That's why i want to keep you."

All the events of TGCF form Xie Lian's third ascension to the final fight happens while Qingxuan is He Xuan's prisonier guest. He Xuan let him do his god's job but under his surveillance, so no god would know where he is. Xie Lian meets him to Ghost City and all the gods lost it when they know. Especially Shi Wudu.

They probably got married shortly near of the end or after.

At a point Shi Wudu has to face the consequence of what he did to He Xuan, except that He Xuan will not kill him.

(prompt free for adoption)

[heylittleriotact]

WIP Wednesday

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx (I appreciate you for keeping me so on my toes with these! More Dragon Age though, I'm afraid 🫠)

There is a mighty hunger circulating the Dragon Age fandom for all sorts of angsty and painful creations centred around a certain necromancer's handling of a certain event that happens in act 3. It's currently in the rambly-word-vomit phase where things get dumped on paper with little thought as to whether or not they're relevant or interesting or even make sense. Under the cut so as to avoid spoilers <3

Moribund

adjective

1. near death

2.  stagnant; without force or vitality

Because you’re worried about me, or insecure about you?

We’ll talk back home, Emmrich… I promise. 

The accusation and the assurance cycled through his mind relentlessly from the exact moment she ceased to exist in their world, sent physically into the Fade by the Dread Wolf. The words had been careening through his head for days now, along with the ones he had spoken that had set the whole affair off: One of us needs to consider my mortality. 

A foolish assertion in hindsight: Amina was always considering mortality. His, hers, and everyone else’s. If life was a sentence in a book, death was simply the appropriate punctuation that marked the end of it: without it, the sentence lost all of its weight and meaning. 

She always spoke so romantically about the inevitability of that final mystery - the peace and freedom from pain and fear that would come with it, and the comforting guarantee of an end in a world where one could seldom rely on the guarantee of anything: food, fortune… love. It was a beloved natural order, responsible for everything from the stars in the sky to the worms in the dirt. She was enchanted by mortality.

He dragged his hands through his disheveled hair, hunched over an old and fragile tome, whose text wavered and blurred. A tear splashed on the page, and not wanting to damage the delicate paper even in his state, he wiped it away with care. 

Never mind the apology he never got to make: he never got to tell her how much he admired her for that… how he envied her maturity and well-organized mind, and the fact that even despite his countless accomplishments and years of experience, she possessed an enterprising confidence he could never educate himself into.

“We go to sleep each night operating under the assumption that we’ll wake up in the morning,” she said to him not a week earlier. “Skipping out on sleep because I might die in the night is only likely to hasten my demise… and I might end up choking to death on my breakfast anyway. Ugh.” A shrug and an indulging smile, and she had breezed past him, leaving him to ponder that thought, the scent of cedar, peppermint, and rosewater in her wake.

“Oh darling…” He said to no one, “I’m so sorry…”

He forced himself to turn the page and continue reading even though all of the words had blended into incomprehensible nonsense days earlier, and he was little closer to finding a way to free Rook from Solas’ trap. It had been a fortnight already - was she even still alive? Had she languished away alone, her mortal body unable to sustain itself in a prison designed for immortal gods? 

If she had died, were those final moments peaceful, like drifting off to sleep? Or were they desperate seconds that stretched into eternity as she realized her impending and unavoidable demise, her entire being gripped with loneliness and terror as life slipped from her grasp like the finest of sand…

“No.” The assertion possessed defiance he didn’t think he was capable of. “I cannot think like that.”

She isn’t dead… she can’t be dead for the simple fact that there’s so much I need to say to her…

Denial, this was called, and it was a common coping mechanism amongst the bereaved. The mind was tremendously skilled at protecting itself during times of immense emotional and psychological strain. Comforting rationale would parse itself into a neatly packaged alternative that was easier to confront than the truth - a temporary neurological repair not meant to last forever, but rather allow one to withstand the immediate shock of a loss. But was he suffering the rigors of grief, or was he on the right path with his stubborn refusal to accept anything that didn’t result in Amina warm and safe in his arms?

“If anyone can get her out of that dreadful place it's you, Volkarin.” He heaved a sigh and straightened in his chair, his spine protesting at the sudden shift in positioning. He ran a hand pensively over his chin as he stared at the pages of the book, decently lengthy stubble rasping under his skin. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead with even a day’s growth shading his jaw, but these were extenuating circumstances indeed. 

That’s what he told himself at least, knowing that the truth of the matter was that he couldn’t even bear to look at himself in his shaving mirror for the guilt that he carried. 

[34saveme34]

What's so perfect is how much they'd just hit it off

reminds me how I DO have a character who could all set this off- ...

god. yea this is a good concept

I think this just shows how they didn't quite have all the developments they should actually have

like they'd have to have quite the challenging thing for it

like I think one of the funnier ones could be truth gas but it still doesn't mean they'd do anything about their feelings just because they have to say them- besides they could easily claim the gas doesn't actually work

I think something more compelling for them would be uh. psychological torture/trauma

maybe with like a sprinkle of the end of the world

where basically each time they'd argue or be dishonest with each other, they'd feel like the world was gonna end because it depends on their link or something like that. Because- who knows. it could happen

we DON'T actually know what happens if a guardian dies or their connection is uh. broken

Consider SMG3 and SMG4 very competitive staring contest (they just want an excuse to look into each others eyes for an unreasonable amount of time but neither of them will admit this) (They keep challenging each other to rematches over and over and their eyes hurt so bad from not blinking nearly enough. Nobody can get them to stop and they both go blind)

and let's not forget how they'd tease each other

and something tells me that 3 would be very funny saying to 4 like, careful or my rizz might get to you

but in my mind, they will stop

not of their own accord, of course! They just get told by maybe Tari or Boopkins that oh they must have such a strong bond now since looking into each other's eyes is known to deepen relationships

and then Mario comes in like, oh so they're gay?

And they immediately both look towards Mario and not each other so they both lose at the same time, shouting that they're not gay

buuuuuuuuuut..... they would somehooooooooow end up continuing in private

yea it gets weirdly intimate, so does the teasing

not as in sexual but they get really close to actually Talking About How They Both Feel

but fail 😭😭😭 they need to be in deathly danger to admit it I swear

[clownjacket]

Okay my crack theory for Lucy’s god situation:

What if instead of dying Lucy’s god became an archfey and fucked off, forsaking all of their followers. I could see that as justifiable for a minor god—maybe you don’t want your personality and existence to be dependent on a group of people small enough for a really big hurricane to wipe them out. Maybe you want to try your hand at self actualization, which you can’t really do as a god. Whatever.

But that would still mean Lucy’s grades would be screwed for the year, and the whole group would be switched to pass/fail.

Whatever god they’re trying to bring back seems like they want to stay a god, but would also only have a single living cleric so their nature would be heavily influenced by who that cleric is, and could still be controlled. Bringing back an established dead god with living followers probably reduces the risk of the god immediately dying or completely sucking ass/not being powerful like what happened with YES!(?), and we know the Ratgrinders LOVE minimizing risk. And choosing a dead god that represents something Lucy is actually passionate about preaching and proselytizing would make her work as a cleric much easier for her emotionally than, say, switching to Helio and just going through the motions, and bringing back a god would probably look good on college resumes.

Idk, that’s just an alternative theory to Lucy’s god dying based on what’s been established this season.

[sammygender]

i just rewatched the rapture ohhhhh my god. such a good episode the jimmy stuff is actually fucking horrifying somehow even worse remembering claire grows up to be a hunter. then dean and bobby at the end locking sam in the panic room oh i hope they suffer. forever. he shouldve never spoken to their asses again

[theplasticman]

sometimes you find yourself seething over small slights so intensely. ive started praying my twitter mutual actually dies

[july-19th-club]

when i was a kid the church songs i gravitated twoards were definitely always the ones like "how great thou art" and "on eagle's wings" - basically anything that mentioned the natural world or a cool animal. songs of faith and tradition did nothing for me, amazing grace was a nothing song, the bread of life was a NOTHING song. but a voice crying out in the wilderness? oh?? say more

and then they dont say more. and you have to figure out whether you believe regardless. and that's what religion is

[throes-of-warm-tornadoes]

the 2001 planet of the apes is so good to me. like, the 1968 version will always have a special place in my heart because the makeup magic was... dare i say... very magical, but i liked how the 2001 one leaned into a more biologically accurate angle. like, those are straight up apes. no wonder humans aren’t speaking as a survival tactic, those things could hurt you without even trying. again, the 1968 one was so good and impressive but the fact that taylor could overpower the actors that were playing gorillas was a little jarring lol. which makes sense, cos so much of his escape plan relied on him being strong enough to push people out of the way.

this isn't a complaint btw! they're just people in costumes---they are still very much giving ape, but there wasn't much they could do about that on a physical level. so, when the 2001 had these big hulking gorillas and more accurate looking chimpanzee faces on the screen, i appreciated that detail about the humans exploiting their fear of the water. it leveled the playing field without making the fight against the apes look like a losing battle

[normaltothemax]

The way the man’s face closes off, his expression completely devoid of emotion, while he still faces the accusations Jason hurls at him head on…it’s so very Bruce in a way that makes Jason’s chest ache even worse. Because that’s not a look anyone but the real Bruce could master. Jason’s seen it on the man, knows exactly what he’s doing, and he kind of hates himself for being the cause of it.

He’s still angry—god, he’s still absolutely furious—but the fact of the matter is that he’s sure, now, that this really is Bruce. And that means…it means…

Bruce answered his call.

Bruce came for him.

Bruce patched him up.

Bruce took him home back to the manor.

Bruce stood vigil by his bedside for however long he was out for, waiting for him to wake.

And the real Bruce wouldn’t have bothered if he didn’t care. Even if he wanted to interrogate Jason, he’d have brought him down to the Cave instead, or stayed with him at Leslie’s clinic. He wouldn’t have brought Jason to his old room and made him comfortable. He wouldn’t be trying so hard to convince him that he does care. Because Bruce is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t spend so much effort trying to get Jason to believe him and then kick him out on his ass once he did.

Jason doesn’t know what to do with that.

Panic floods him when Bruce says the Joker that’s in Arkham isn’t the one that killed him—he’s out, when did he get out? How did Jason not know about it? How long has he been out? How long before he makes his next move?—before he’s saying ‘your killer is dead’ like it’s that simple. Like someone could actually manage to put the cockroach down.

Like he’s sure.

The glow in his eyes slowly dies as he just sits there and stares, stunned. Everything he thought he knew is apparently wrong. All the plans he’d been making are out the window. Jason’s just…adrift in the sea, completely unmoored.

“You—” He means that. Bruce really means that, because the expressionless mask has come down and Jason can see exactly what he’s feeling written plainly across his face. It’s not enough. It’s too much. He feels so incredibly lost and he doesn’t know what to do now. Everything’s wrong, but it’s okay because his dad’s here, but Jason hates him, but he misses him more than anything, but he wants to ruin him and make him suffer, but he’s so tired and he hurts and he just wants his dad to make it better, but Bruce will hate him once he knows everything Jason’s done and was planning.

“I—” His breath is hitching, tears finally forcing their way out, trailing down his cheeks. He wants to curl in on himself, hide away from it all, but has to instead settle for staying leaned back against the headboard and covering his face with his hands as he tries to pull himself together but only comes more undone.

It’s completely mortifying. He’s not a child, and he’d be punished terribly for this back at the League. But it’s all too much, too much, too much and he can’t seem to be able to stop.

Six months.

Six months.

If there hadn't already been a wall between his thoughts and his emotions, Bruce would be reeling at this revelation.

A part of him is.

Six months. Jason somehow - who knows how - clawed his way back from the grave, literally, six months after his owwn funeral, and Bruce had had no idea. Hell, he'd visited the gravesite almost religiously for Jason's birthday, and the site had never shown even a hint of being disturbed. There had never been any kind of sign to hint that Jason was alive, was on the streets, was still in Gotham, but here he is, hurting and angry and railing against Bruce and insisting - insisting - that Bruce doesn't care.

And the worst part of it is that Jason's final accusation is one Bruce can't even argue. Not really. He has his reasons, yes, and he actually did come close to pulling that figurative trigger, but he'd been stopped, Clark stopped him and then later on Jim stopped him and now…well. thanks to Jim he's realizing the man currently in Arkham isn't actually Jason's murderer, but that's got no bearing on the fact that he couldn't - can't - kill that waste of oxygen.

Not even to avenge his own son.

And a part of him hates himself for that.

"…I told you I failed you," he says, his voice still quiet, expression lost in that kind of pain that can only be shown through lack of emotion; his eyes are all but dead, staring down at the sheets rather than meeting Jason's gaze, shoulders tense to keep himself from folding his arms and curling into himself, pulling away. He can't pull away from this, no matter how much he wants to hide.

He owes Jason that much at least.

"It doesn't change anything, but the man in Arkham…I have reason to believe he's not the man who killed you." Bruce has his own suspicions about the fate of the true Joker - or, more specifically, who is behind it - but he's in no particular hurry to prove them correct for several reasons. "As near as I've been able to learn, your killer is dead." So hopefully Jason can take some solace in that.

"As to the rest…I didn't know. I truly didn't know." Now he looks up, nothing but naked honesty and regret and guilt in his eyes. "There was never a report of the grave being disturbed, or any word about a John Doe matching your description. Jason, if I had known, there isn't a power on this planet that could have kept me from you." And why Talia didn't tell him…well, that's something he fully intends on asking her himself when next they meet.

[freak1demon69]

This is what it feels like being a hex fan sometimes, like its not even a twitter issue (and in a sense its not necessarily an issue, sometimes ppl just wanna have fun n not spout theories n discussion 24/7! I get that!) but i feel like a lot of people r quick to write off aspects of the game and characters and insist that, despite it being a mullinsverse title, it's not that deep/things are surface level

[thehappiestgolucky]

I don't know if you're going to answer this but, Vigilante Tiso, is this an AU of yours? If so, I'm curious about the context of this concept!

Yep! Vigilante Tiso is one of my older and blog popular AU’s for Hollow Knight (based on poll results)

Originally, it started as a joke about Tiso being in Hallownest early just to take the piss out of PK and Lurien, but slowly developed into a more complicated story about Tiso being Xero and Markoth’s son (Xero biologically and Markoth via marrying into the family) as Tiso moved to Hallownest much earlier - eventually putting his distaste for the royalty into become the cities Vigilante that continued through the Infection Outbreak and in-game events. Instead of an arrogant ant that dies in the Colosseum, he’s a hot headed ant that’s been trying to protect survivors of a dying kingdom whilst wanting a solution and is willing to die for it.

A lot of it focuses more on the character relationships as they change and are affected by the story events - particularly with a small family being torn apart as simple mortals in a gods war.