#like yes please sign me up
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
s1desn4cks · 1 year ago
Text
Oh I would be SO excited.
Villain: AHAHAHAH- now- prepare to be shrunk!!
Me: YES! I mean uh…. Oh noooooo
212 notes · View notes
leupagus · 1 year ago
Text
On Voting in America
So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:
"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."
I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.
Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.
And I've decided I don't give a shit.
Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once or twice a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.
In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.
Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.
Brush, wipe, vote.
1K notes · View notes
sapphirewolf100 · 2 months ago
Text
Not me actually, legitimately crying because of how sweet and kind Lord of the Lost was when I met them 😭😭
20 notes · View notes
k-yujin · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
read the tags !! // officially quit
#⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀#ok first of all why am i writing in tags you may ask#well i find it less awkward to express in my tags rather in the actual post it self since im one hell of an awkward piece of shit hihi#ANYWAY TO THE TOPIC OF ME QUITING#this has been very long due#like i mean everyone has to have seen it coming#specially since i dont post as frequently and j lost most of my motivation#one. because school is my current priority#two. is my personal life !!! i’ve been vry vry busy keeping up with irl frends and also my family#but the main reason had to be my lack of motivation as in its non existent#next topic !!!#i will be deleting most of my asks and random posts soem of which are memorable to me will be rbloged to my personal acc !#ah and yes will i be coming back?#probably will be lurking time to time but who knows i might actually come back on joshuas bday solely to post a joshua mb HAHAHAHA#ilovemyman frr#I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS ON THE DAY JOSHUA ACTUALLY POSTED ON HIS IG#ok im getting sooooo off topic#but like hooray my last theme is actually jjong toram HAHAH#i actually quited before november like the end of oct but i was too lazy to make a post about it hehehe#but luvi knew ofc :>#anyway if were close moots frel free to add me in discord not like im actually really active#@stariaz. 🤓#who knows i might actually take this back if suddenly the little devil inside me decides to revive itself#anyway this is user k-yujin offically(?) signing off 🤓🤓#ALSOOO DOESNT MEAN I QUITED PPLCAN USE MY STUFF W/O GIVING CREDS !!! (ehem ehem my dividers 👁)#please give creds or i will literally come alive#i still have someone who acts as my eyes here even though j wont post no more#guys i have to wake up at 5 am gud night 🤩#also i cut my hair 😶#thabks for 3.4k though 🫵🫵
69 notes · View notes
l0ganberry · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
perfect timing! I'm definitely getting this.
43 notes · View notes
drplantboss · 7 months ago
Text
i love the idea of long-tailed shadow
i wish more aspects of alien biology were evident in his official design, but i get that his design was probably finalized before that was actually incorporated into his backstory
still, with how FUBAR the sonic timeline and everything is at this point, anyone who gets mad over a relatively minor retcon should probably touch some grass
21 notes · View notes
carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
Text
thinking so so hard about LaughingStock and how that'd go down. disastrously, probably
#and ill talk about it at Length in the tags until tumblr cuts me off like a rowdy drunk after last call#please keep in mind this is all in my Brain and relationship dynamics etc are all technically speculation. anyway#so while franklydear is your more classic 'oh no im in love with him! / aw shucks im in love with him<3'#laughingstock is 'feelings what feelings / oh shit oh fuck this is bad'#to Me.#in my mind howdy is completely oblivious to his emotions#he's out here like 'gotta get the store impressively neat & shiny for barnaby! and everyone else' without blinking an eye#he starts assembling barnaby and wally's dogs slower an slower so that barnaby has to hang around a smidge longer than usual#he's out here giggling at barnaby's jokes while sweeping Hours or Days after the joke was told like a lovesick idiot#all while being like Ah Yes Barnaby My Dear Friend. My Platonic Buddy Whose Jokes I Laugh At A Little Too Hard. Platonically.#meanwhile barnaby Realizes his own feels. has a minor crisis. goes through the 12 stages of grief and absolutely panics#he's like 'ok just gotta play it cool. normal. dont be weird. he'll fall for your natural charm in no time'#'ill hold all of my feelings right here until i die or howdy reciprocates. i just cant tell anyone about this.'#'....hey wally you can keep a secret right'#and rizzes it up yk. rolls a nat 20 on charisma every time without howdy even realizing it. ig barns rolled for stealth too#and from barnabys pov its going great!#howdy is flirting back! hes showing all the signs! when eddie views their interactions he comes to barnaby later and is like A+ gay as fuck#so barnaby is a soft pining mess and howdy is Absurdly Oblivious despite being a clever & observant guy#so im imagining (will freely admit that this Train of Thought is slightly inspired by the latest chapter of Stamps by Indigopoptart)#that eventually barnaby is Confident in their budding relationship ok. hes ready to ask howdy out.#everyone who Knows (wally & eddie) are like Go For It He Clearly Loves You#and when barnaby tells howdy. howdys like 'ohhhh geez um im really flattered 🥺 but i dont feel the same 😔😭'#cue barnaby turning into the 'never again' meme while trying to laugh it off and pretend like he didnt just have his heart mr starked#so he goes home to smoke his pipe and cry and howdy goes about his day feeling Strange#why cant he stop thinking about that confession. what are these emotions. i mean its not as if hes in love with Ohhhhhh No. Oh No.#so howdy has his 'holy shit! im in love with barnaby! (lovestruck. swooning) ....Holy Shit I Rejected Barnaby (horrified. nauseous)' moment#cue howdy expecting barnaby to come by in the morning as per Routine so they can talk. he Doesnt. cue howdy stressing the fuck out over it#meanwhile wally sally (eddie sent her in his place. hes too busy) and barnaby are having a girls day (eating ice cream and watchin romcoms)#eventually barnaby hears that howdy has been Dropping The Ball and cant not check on him. cue emotional heart-2-heart outside the bodega#this is all very specific but its in my brain. these scenarious lull me to sleep every night lately
74 notes · View notes
bedforddanes75 · 2 months ago
Text
just saw someone call astrology 'space racism' pls i cant do this
10 notes · View notes
liquidstar · 1 year ago
Text
A lot of you guys in the replies had really good/funny things to say about the concept of a "subaru being technically under house arrest in the felt camp route" tags and I'd love to talk about it w you too but I feel kinda bad taking over ops post 😭
35 notes · View notes
some-mari-thoughts · 9 months ago
Note
What do you make of the idea of Blackspace kinda fusing with Hellmari after a post-good ending Omori gave her true life, therefore making her the entire realm by technicality? Omori would do that cuz he needs something to kinda fill the void that appeared when Sunny left and he's getting desperate after not finding anything in Headspace to do that...
(woooooooooo explaining my omori au lore-)
Truthfully this is so wildly different to my idea of headspace and omori and after-good ending that i cannot make anything of this! i think that's up to u to decide
Tumblr media
#they kinda have to coexist anyway in my head#yes they had a big ass fight abt things and sunny's headspace is kinda all crumpled once again and white space is emptier than ever#omori's still the inner 12 y o kid who is also the anxiety and escapism and so many things and he isn't going anywhere immediately#so they do have to work together and fill it w new things. make smth of it and make it comfortable again in a better way#idk we're not letting the nightmares fester#your story is yours though its just so different from mine that it feels like a string of words that i can't tie togetjher#in a way that makes sense at least#so here you know your story best#also pleas#if u wanna put smth that u made and make me see it please let it be related to me and my blog in my inbox#i WILL spit my hcs and story at u if u put unrelated things here#i don't have the responsibility to react to Your omori content that i did not sign up or ask to see!#that's almost your own post material. let me come across it in the tag when i want to see it#and if i don't it was not meant to be#its an honor to receive your omori art of mari btw if u do put it here. just make sure it's not a constant and rather an occasion#cannot publish your omocontent for you#sorry for the tag rant its offtopic from the post#i do get severe urge to ignore/delete asks that seem wholly unrelated to my blog or a fully cooked personal omori post#and not an ask to tumblr user some mari thoughts who makes art and posts hcs and shares some art sometimes#OMORI Sunny#OMORI character#Knife boi#Son boi#my doodles
18 notes · View notes
miyku · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
gonzodangerfeels · 4 days ago
Text
Me: no really if you missed even one birth control pill you better double check you aren't pregnant.
#can you feel that thick rod begging for entrance#back and forth back and forth across your lips finding the perfect angle of entry#his adidas interfere but his cock is pre'ing let me in#🤔 honey we were never “just friends” it was always way more than that#her & her i like to turn you on baby#when heaven is out on the street with the heat of the the night#It's fine we fuck and I feel better#don't you feel like an owned object when anyone says the magical ownership of All Hallow's Eve though#like you just want to be owned and have attention paid to you#and I can give that to you....we can give that to you#emotional attachment to a chick version of myself? oh I could see that#like she will think my drug use was nothing in comparison I reckon#me: *nods* so she likes ice though huh....yeah I can see that being a thing#you have a few nieces I guess.... 🤔 well a few full ones anyway#a few who have way too much of the other half of us#she's like i smoke because I like it when i smoke#and I'm like oh ok yaaaaaas hypnotize me#when I click those videos I know what I am signing up for#just stare at you for a few minutes no words#yes please do say words to me though let's see how 27 years of hearing have done you.#well we both have the same life path number it's ridiculous to discuss between us#and she's like.....can i play with your 2 2#your destiny is facing and conquering that sexy fear of 7#mine is 7 children I guess*gulp.... fuck*#and two twins for her#his and mine#mine is a freak tho......#here I was in 2014 finally spilling my guts over what you had accused me of to her years ago#except it was like all lowkey and shit as far as the external world knew#...we knew tho.....we knew
3 notes · View notes
acourtofquestions · 10 days ago
Text
Kingdom of Ash Chapter 55-56
Chapter; Highlights, Notes, Tags, etc.
The Thirteen were on edge. They hadn't yet decided where to go. And hadn't been invited to travel with the Crochans to any of their home-hearths. Even Glennis's.
None of them, however, had looked his way when they'd prowled past. None had recognized him.
Dorian had just completed another walking circuit in his little training area when Manon stalked by, silver hair flowing. He paused, no more than a wary Crochan sentinel, and watched her storm through snow and mud as if she were a blade through the world.
Manon had nearly passed his training area when she went rigid.
Slowly, she turned, nostrils flaring.
Those golden eyes swept over him, swift and cutting. Her brows twitched toward each other. Dorian only gave her a lazy grin in return.
Then she prowled toward him.
Another assessing stare. "I would have thought you'd pick a prettier form."
He frowned down at himself. "I think she's pretty enough."
Manon's mouth tightened. "I suppose this means you're about to go to Morath."
"Did I say anything of the sort?" He didn't bother sounding pleasant.
Manon took a step toward him, her teeth flashing. In this body, he stood shorter than her. He hated the thrill that shot through his blood as she leaned down to growl at him. "We have enough to deal with today, princeling."
"Do l look as if I'm standing in your way?" She opened her mouth, then shut it.
Dorian let out a low laugh and made to turn away. An iron-tipped hand gripped his arm.
Strange, for that hand to feel large on his body. Large, and not the slender, deadly thing he'd become accustomed to.
Her golden eyes blazed. "If you want a softhearted woman who will weep over hard choices and ultimately balk from them, then you're in the wrong bed."
"I'm not in anyone's bed right now." He hadn't gone to her tent any of these nights. Not since that conversation in Eyllwe.
She took the retort without so much as a flinch. "Your opinion doesn't matter to me."
"Then why are you standing here?"
Again, she opened and closed her mouth. Then snarled, "Change out of that form." Dorian smiled again. "Don't you have better things to do right now, Your Majesty?" He honestly thought she might unsheathe those iron teeth and rip out his throat.
Half of him wanted her to try. He even went so far as to run one of those phantom hands along her jaw.
"You think I don't know why you don't want me to go to Morath?"
"Tell me to stay," he said, and the words had no warmth, no kindness. "Tell me to stay with you, if that's what you want." His invisible fingers grew talons and scraped over her skin. Manon's throat bobbed. "But you won't say that, will you, Manon?" Her breathing turned jagged. He continued to stroke her neck, her jaw, her throat, caressing skin he'd tasted over and over. "Do you know why?"
"Because while you might be older, might be deadly in a thousand different ways, deep down, you're afraid. You don't know how to ask me to stay, because you're afraid of admitting to yourself that you want it. You're afraid. Of yourself more than anyone else in the world. You're afraid." For several heartbeats, she just stared at him.
Then she snarled, "You don't know what you're talking about," and stalked away.
His low laugh ripped after her. Her spine stiffened. But Manon did not turn back.
Afraid. Of admitting that she felt any sort of attachment.
It was preposterous.
And it was, perhaps, true.
But it was not her problem. Not right now.
Manon stormed through the readying camp where tents were being taken down and folded, hearths being packed. The Thirteen were with the wyverns, supplies stowed in saddlebags.
Some of the Crochans had frowned her way. Not with anger, but something like disappointment.
Discontent. As if they thought parting ways was a poor idea.
Manon refrained from saying she agreed.
Even if the Thirteen followed, the Crochans would find a way to lose them. Use their power to bind the wyverns long enough to disappear.
And she would not lower herself, lower the Thirteen, to become dogs chasing after their masters. They might be desperate for aid, might have promised it to their allies, but she would not debase herself any further.
Manon halted at Glennis's camp, the only hearth with a fire still burning. A fire that would always remain kindled.
A reminder of the promise she'd made to honor the Queen of Terrasen. A single, solitary flame against the cold.
Manon rubbed at her face as she slumped onto one of the rocks lining the hearth. A hand rested on her shoulder, warm and slight. She didn't bother to slap it away.
Glennis said, "We're departing in a few minutes. I thought l'd say good-bye."
Manon peered up at the ancient witch. "Fly well." It was really all there was left to say.
Manon's failure was not due to Glennis, not due to anyone but herself, she supposed.
You're afraid.
It was true. She had tried, but not really tried to win the Crochans. To let them see any part of her that meant something. To let them see what it had done to her, to learn she had a sister and that she had killed her. She didn't know how, and had never bothered to learn.
You're afraid.
Yes, she was. Of everything.
Glennis lowered her hand from Manon's shoulder.
"May your path carry you safely through war and back home at last."
She didn't feel like telling the crone there was no home for her, or the Thirteen.
Glennis turned her face toward the sky, sighing once. Then her white brows narrowed. Her nostrils flared. Manon leapt to her feet.
"Run," Glennis breathed. "Run now."
Manon drew Wind-Cleaver and did no such thing. "What is it?"
"They're here." How Glennis had scented them on the wind, Manon didn't care.
Not as three wyverns broke from the clouds, spearing for their camp.
She knew those wyverns, almost as well as she knew the three riders who sent the Crochans into a frenzy of motion.
The Matrons of the Ironteeth Witch-Clans had found them. And come to finish what Manon had started that day in Morath.
The three High Witches had come alone.
Rushing steps crunched through the icy snow, halting at Manon's side just as Dorian's scent wrapped around her. "Is that—"
"Yes," she said quietly, heart thundering as the Matrons dismounted and did not raise their hands in request for parley. No, they only stalked closer to the hearth, to the precious flame still burning. "Don't engage," Manon warned him and the others, and strode to meet them.
It was not the king's battle, no matter what power dwelled in his veins.
Glennis was already armed, an ancient sword in her withered hands. The woman was as old as the Yellowlegs Matron, yet she stood tall, facing the three High Witches.
Cresseida Blueblood spoke first, her eyes as cold as the iron-spiked crown digging into her freckled brow. "It has been an age, Glennis." But Glennis's stare, Manon realized, was not on the Blueblood Matron. Or even on Manon's own grandmother, her black robes billowing as she sneered at Manon.
It was on the Yellowlegs Matron, hunched and hateful between them. On the crown of stars atop the crone's thinned white hair.
Glennis's sword shook slightly. And just as Manon realized what the Matron had worn here,
Bronwen appeared at Glennis's side and breathed, "Rhiannon's crown."
Worn by the Yellowlegs Matron to mock these witches. To spit on them.
A dull roaring began in Manon's ears.
"What company you keep these days, granddaughter," said Manon's grandmother, her silver-streaked dark hair braided back from her face. A sign enough of their intentions, if her grandmother's hair was in that plait. Battle. Annihilation.
The weight of the three High Witches' attention pressed upon her. The Crochans gathered behind her shifted as they waited for her response.
Yet it was Glennis who snarled, in a voice Manon had not yet heard, "What is it that you want?"
Manon's grandmother smiled, revealing rust-flecked iron teeth. The true sign of her age. "You made a grave error, Manon Kin-Slayer, when you sought to turn our forces against us. When you sowed such lies amongst our sentinels regarding our plans— my plans."
Manon kept her chin high. "I spoke only truth. And it must have frightened you enough that you gathered these two to hunt me down and prove your innocence in scheming against them."
The other two Matrons didn't so much as blink. Her grandmother's claws had to have sunk deep, then. Or they simply did not care.
"We came," Cresseida seethed, the opposite in so many ways of the daughter who had given Manon the chance to speak, "to at last rid us of a thorn in our sides."
Had Petrah been punished for letting Manon walk out of the Omega alive? Did the Blueblood Heir still breathe? Cresseida had once screamed in a mother's terror and pain when Petrah had nearly plunged to her death.
Did that love, so foreign and strange, still hold true? Or had duty and ancient hatred won out?
The thought was enough to steel Manon's spine. "You came because we pose a threat."
Because of the threat you pose to that monster you call grandmother.
"You came," Manon went on, Wind-Cleaver rising a fraction, "because you are afraid."
Manon took a step beyond Glennis, her sword lifting farther.
"You came," Manon said, "because you have no true power beyond what we give you.
And you are scared to death that we're about to take it away." Manon flipped Wind-Cleaver in her hand, angling the sword downward, and drew a line in the snow between them. "You came alone for that fear. That others might see what we are capable of. The truth that you have always sought to hide."
Her grandmother tutted. "Listen to you. Sounding just like a Crochan with that preachy nonsense."
Manon ignored her. Ignored her and pointed Wind-Cleaver directly at the Yellowlegs Matron as she snarled, "That is not your crown."
Something like hesitation rippled over Cresseida Blueblood's face. But the Yellowlegs Matron beckoned to Manon with iron nails so long they curved downward. "Then come and fetch it from me, traitor."
Manon stepped beyond the line she'd drawn in the snow.
No one spoke behind her. She wondered if any of them were breathing.
She had not won against her grandmother. Had barely survived, and only thanks to luck. That fight, she had been ready to meet her end. To say farewell.
Manon angled Wind-Cleaver upward, her heart a steady, raging beat.
She would not greet the Darkness's embrace today. But they would.
"This seems familiar," her grandmother drawled, legs shifting into attacking position.
The other two Matrons did the same. "The last Crochan Queen. Holding the line against us." Manon cracked her jaw, and iron teeth descended. A flex of her fingers had her iron nails unsheathing. "Not just a Crochan Queen this time."
There was doubt in Cresseida's blue eyes.
As if she'd realized what the other two Matrons had not.
There—it was there that Manon would strike first. The one who now wondered if they had somehow made a grave mistake in coming here.
A mistake that would cost them what they had come to protect.
A mistake that would cost them this war.
And their lives.
For Cresseida saw the steadiness of Manon's breathing. Saw the clear conviction in her eyes. Saw the lack of fear in her heart as Manon advanced another step.
Manon smiled at the Blueblood Matron as if to say yes.
"You did not kill me then," Manon said to her grandmother. "I do not think you will be able to now."
"We'll see about that," her grandmother hissed, and charged.
Manon was ready.
An upward swing of Wind-Cleaver met her grandmother's first two blows, and Manon ducked the third. Turning right into the onslaught of the Yellowlegs Matron, who swept up with unnatural speed, feet almost flying over the snow, and slashed for Manon's exposed back.
Manon deflected the crone's assault, sending the witch darting back. Just as Cresseida launched herself at Manon. Cresseida was not a trained fighter. Not as the Blackbeak and Yellowlegs Matrons were. Too many years spent reading entrails and scanning the stars for the answers to the Three-Faced Goddess's riddles.
A duck to the left had Manon easily evading the sweep of Cresseida's nails, and a countermove had Manon driving her elbow into the Blueblood Matron's nose.
Cresseida stumbled. The Yellowlegs Matron and her grandmother attacked again. So fast. Their three assaults had happened in the span of a few blinks. Manon kept her feet under her. Saw where one Matron moved and the other left a dangerous gap exposed.
She was not a broken-spirited Wing Leader unsure of her place in the world.
She was not ashamed of the truth before her.
She was not afraid.
Manon's grandmother led the attack, her maneuvers the deadliest. It was from her that the first slice of pain appeared. A rip of iron nails through Manon's shoulder. But Manon swung her sword, again and again, iron on steel ringing out across the icy peaks.
No, she was not afraid at all.
Around him, the Crochans thrummed with fear and dread. Either for the fight unfolding or the three Matrons who had found them.
But Glennis did not tremble. At her side Bronwen hummed with the energy of one eager to leap into the fight.
Manon and the High Witches sprang apart, breathing heavily. Blue blood leaked down Manon's shoulder, and small slices peppered the three Matrons.
Manon still remained on the far side of the line she'd drawn. Still held it.
The dark-haired witch in voluminous black robes spat blue blood onto the snow. Manon's grandmother. "Pathetic. As pathetic as your mother." A sneer toward Glennis. "And your father."
The snarl that ripped from Manon's throat rang across the mountains themselves.
Her grandmother let out a crow's caw of a laugh. "Is that all you can do, then? Snarl like a dog and swing your sword like some human filth? We will wear you down eventually. Better to kneel now and die with some honor intact." Manon only flung out an iron-tipped hand behind her, fingers splaying in demand as her eyes remained fixed on the Matrons.
Dorian reached for Damaris, but Bronwen moved first.
The Crochan tossed her sword, steel flashing over snow and sun.
Manon's fingers closed on the hilt, the blade singing as she whipped it around to face the High Witches again. "Rhiannon Crochan held the gates for three days and three nights, and she did not kneel before you, even at the end." A slash of a smile. "I think I shall do the same." Dorian could have sworn the sacred flame burning to their left flared brighter. Could have sworn Glennis sucked in a breath. That every Crochan watching did the same.
Manon's knees bent, swords rising. "Let us finish what was started then, too." She attacked, blades flashing.
Her grandmother conceded step after step, the other two Matrons failing to break past her defenses.
Gone was the witch who had slept and wished for death. Gone was the witch who had raged at the truth that had torn her to shreds.
And in her place, fighting as if she were the very wind, unfaltering against the Matrons, stood someone Dorian had not yet met.
Stood a queen of two peoples.
Yielding only those few steps, and nothing more.
Because Manon with conviction in her heart, with utter fearlessness in her eyes, was wholly unstoppable.
The other two witches had fallen back, as if waiting to see what might happen.
But she yielded no further ground. A wall against which the Yellowlegs Matron could not advance. The crone let out a snarl, attacking again and again, senseless and raging.
Dorian saw the trap the moment it happened.
No one seemed to breathe at all as Manon plunged Bronwen's sword into the icy earth beneath and bent to take the crown of stars from the Yellowlegs witch's fallen head.
He had never seen a crown like it.
A living, glowing thing that glittered in her hand. As if nine stars had been plucked from the heavens and set to shine along the simple silver band.
The crown's light danced over Manon's face as she lifted it above her head and set it upon her unbound white hair.
Even the mountain wind stopped.
Yet a phantom breeze shifted the strands of Manon's hair as the crown glowed bright, the white stars shining with cores of cobalt and ruby and amethyst.
As if it had been asleep for a long, long time. And now awoke.
That phantom wind pulled Manon's hair to the side, silver strands brushing across her face.
And beside him, around him, the Thirteen touched two fingers to their brow in deference.
In allegiance to the queen who stared down the two remaining High Witches.
The Crochan Queen, crowned anew.
The sacred fire leaped and danced, as if in joyous welcome.
"Go."
The Blueblood witch blinked, eyes wide with what could only be fear and dread.
Manon jerked her chin toward the wyvern waiting behind the witch. "Tell your daughter all debts between us are paid. And she may decide what to do with you. Take that other wyvern out of here."
Spared by the Crochan Queen on behalf of the daughter who had given Manon the gift of speaking to the Ironteeth.
Within seconds, the Blueblood Matron was in the skies, the Yellowlegs witch's wyvern soaring beside her.
Leaving Manon's grandmother alone.
Leaving Manon with swords raised and a crown of stars glowing upon her brow.
Manon was glowing, as if the stars atop her head pulsed through her body. A wondrous and mighty beauty, like no other in the world. Like no one had ever been, or would be again.
And slowly, as if savoring each step, Manon stalked toward her grandmother.
Warm, dancing light flowed through her, as unfaltering as what had poured into her heart these past few bloody minutes.
She did not balk. Did not fear.
The crown's weight was slight, like it had been crafted of moonlight. Yet its joyous strength was a song, undimming before the sole High Witch left standing.
So Manon kept walking.
She left Bronwen's sword a few feet away.
Left Wind-Cleaver several feet past that.
Iron nails out, teeth ready, Manon paused barely five steps from her grandmother.
A hateful, wasted scrap of existence. That's what her grandmother was.
She had never realized how much shorter the Matron stood. How narrow her shoulders were, or how the years of rage and hate had withered her.
Manon's smile grew. And she could have sworn she felt two people standing at her shoulder.
She knew no one would be there if she looked. Knew no one else could see them, sense them, standing with her. Standing with their daughter against the witch who had destroyed them.
Her grandmother spat on the ground, baring her rusted teeth.
This death, though ...
It was not her death to claim.
It did not belong to the parents whose spirits lingered at her side, who might have been there all along, leading her toward this. Who had not left her, even with death separating them.
No, it did not belong to them, either.
She looked behind her. Toward the Second waiting beside Dorian.
Tears slid down Asterin's face. Of pride- pride and relief.
Manon beckoned to Asterin with an iron- tipped hand.
Manon raised a hand. "Let her go."
When there was no trace of the Matrons left but blue blood and a headless corpse staining the snow, Manon turned toward the Crochans.
Their eyes were wide, but they made no move.
The Thirteen remained where they were, Dorian with them.
Manon scooped up both swords, sheathing Wind-Cleaver across her back, and stalked toward where Glennis and Bronwen stood, monitoring her every breath.
Wordlessly, Manon handed Bronwen her sword, nodding in thanks.
Then she removed the crown of stars and extended it toward Glennis. "This belongs to you," she said, her voice low.
The Crochans murmured, shifting.
Glennis took the crown, and the stars dimmed. A small smile graced the crone's face.
"No," she said, "it does not."
Manon didn't move as Glennis lifted the crown and set it again on Manon's head.
Then the ancient witch knelt in the snow.
"What was stolen has been restored; what was lost has come home again. I hail thee, Manon Crochan, Queen of Witches."
Manon stood fast against the tremor that threatened to buckle her legs.
Stood fast as the other Crochans, Bronwen with them, dropped to a knee. Dorian, standing amongst them, smiled, brighter and freer than she'd ever seen.
And then the Thirteen knelt, two fingers going to their brows as they bowed their heads, fierce pride lighting their faces.
"Queen of Witches," Crochan and Blackbeak declared as one voice.
As one people.
#Chapter 55#Chapter 56#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Manon Blackbeak#Dorian Havilliard#Manorian#Asterin Blackbeak#The Thirteen#first read#read along#read with me#no spoilers please#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 56 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#The witches-alone-Morath-Glennis-Petrah why-don’t be poisoned-THE CROWN-her braid-their hatred & fear yet her forward#beyond what we give-is that a wyrdmark?-she would not-she would stand-not then but now becuase a cause-SHE WAS NOT AFRAID#he listened to her/believed in her-they did not tremble-they did not yield-she would not kneel-they came for her too-for them she did this#THE SWORD-uh yeah same-GONE WAS THAT WITCH-from the flame-AND HERE WAS THE LAST CROCHAN QUEEN-I love her#the wind answered-a queen of two people-convinction in her hearts fearless in her eyes and utterly unstoppable-you went for me#well Ansel said-SHE CROWNED HERSELF-matching crowns?-a phantom breeze the chill-the witch queen brow bow-that’s what she learned#they ran from her-mercy?-a debt-and one paid-true queens rising-a literal Star-not her death to claim-Asterin-manon I fucking love you#it’s yours-QUEEN OF WITCHES-Dorian smiled🥹-him watching his wife like same-he is us-short king-Iltsm#A sign enough of their intentions if her grandmother's hair was in that plait. Battle. Annihilation.—HAIR HOLDS POWER PEOPLE#Manon Kin-Slayer… a real rich name coming from her#because YOU are afraid-I kept reading peachy nonsense lol-chills-I’m gonna go cry-I love her#A blade through the world-shorter-bi bbs-the way she knows-it's a mate thing I swear-I'm not anyone's-#if you want someone who will allow that then ur wrong-shell keep him alive-double lines in the sand-your afraid-the word majesty#not back not now-a queen-a true queen against the world-afraid of everything-home?-HOLY SHIT RUN-mother matron crone#You're afraid-I will not be afraid-coward-the fear of fear-run now-hold the line-retreat and live-You’re afraid. Yes she was. Of everything#Fly Well they've run for a long time they know-but she would not-the truth time
5 notes · View notes
hguhie · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
transfem!boimler has my ENTIRE HEART guys please subscribe to the trans!boimler agenda
15 notes · View notes
sskk-manifesto · 7 months ago
Text
(´・ᴗ・ ` )
#I really like the “We're the bad guys' enemy” line. For someone I generally despise Dazai has all my favourite lines in this show…#Idk I can't really vibe with the unbalance that there is between s/kk.#Like when push comes to shove‚ Dazai has the power to keep Chuuya alive or let him die.#I understand why they make a compelling dynamic in their complexity‚ but it just doesn't do it for me.#I'm a little sad my opinion on them hasn't really changed since I watched the anime for the first time...#Also; I really can't vibe with Chuuya allowing Dazai to kill Q. Yes I know Chuuya cares about his comrades deeply.#Yes I know it can be interpreted as Chuuya seeing himself in Q as a living weapon and being disgusted by it#(though I honestly don't think that was intentional of the author).#Yes I know Chuuya is a mafioso and kills people. No I don't think your personal issues justify you being a dick to other people I'm sorry.#Back to my main annoyance with the episode: I must have already talked about this but I hate hate hate the narrative#“the mafia works for the city” “the mafia deeply loves the city too” it's so so sickening and insulting please stop I'm begging.#Please visit any actual city with a rooted mafia presence for once in your life (signed: someone whose hometown was destroyed by the mafia.#The writers really don't know what they're talking about and‚ politely‚ it's offensive.)#Also b/sd keeping being extremely nationalist with Mori (who's largely depicted unsimphatetically for the first part of the episode)–#bringing up western thinkers and subtly mocking Fukuzawa for not knowing them–#and Fukuzawa (the righteous man. the noble spirit and just soul in this episode and Mori's antithesis)–#stepping forward to say that he knows strategists from the east (because who else would he need?)#I don't know if it's meant to symbolize the conflict with an hostile and invading foreign power (the Guild).#But it does come across as. A very isolationist way of thinking.#I know it's subtle but it's really evident for me. And I didn't want to talk about this any further…#But by bringing actual examples of this I hope I can better explain why I think that b/sd holds nationalist views–#and that I'm not just making it up out of nowhere. Otherwise I fear I'd only come off as pettily hostile to b/sd in everything#That's it. I feel like I've been losing a lot of mutuals over my main recently due to not shutting up (sorry)#so I suppose it's only fair I lose them on here too pffttt.#Tune in next week for more bad takes#random rambles
15 notes · View notes
elegyofthemoon · 8 months ago
Text
well. i finished ch 17 of hi3. but at what cost
Tumblr media
#avil plays hi3#tbf majority of me playing through hi3 just looks like This.#yes the acheron trailer made me get up and finish ch 17#i. :(#the fight between kiana and mei was so painful :(#ok also i suck ass in the combat and i was so scared of having to restart#BUT I THINK I HURT MORE THE FACT THAT KIANA JUST REFUSED TO GIVE UP ON MEI#BUT MEIS ALSO DOING THIS BECAUSE SHES TRYING TO SAVE KIANA#AND THEY WERE BOTH FIGHTING TO STOP AND TRY TO SAVE EACH OTHER#MEI YOU SAVED KIANA BUT LIKE..... DONT YOU WANT TO LIVE ALONGSIDE HER.... MEI PLEASE#tbh. the way i was going through ch 17 for hi3.#kiana and mei remind me a lot of oz and gil's relationship back in pandora hearts but#now it makes me want to hit my head on a brick wall because#'wow. i really just gravitate tO THE SAME FUCKING MEDIA EVERY DAMN TIME AVIL STOP IT FFS'#also idk i was thinking about it too#mei tried earlier to use the herrschers powers to try and protect kiana but it wasnt enough. she failed that time#and with no other option to save her she just HAD to and it makes me HURT that this was her only option#IN HER HEAD. I BELIEVE IN YOU MEI I THINK THERE COULDVE BEEN ANOTHER OPTION HERE (IDK WHAT BUT I AM SOBBING)#sprawls on the ground#at least i can have an emotional break for a little bit.... hsr update so i can chill w that#and then when i finish catching up w that. then i go back to being hi3's punching bag#can i get off this train now? why'd i sign myself up for this (welt yang doomed me and then i got fucked over by everything else)#idk also the way that both mei AND kiana resorted to using their herrscher powers to stop the other. two stubborn people....#but its done because they just... they just care so much and want to save the other#okay yeah we did beat each other up about it bUT STILL#MEI I BELIEVE IN YOU YOU CAN TURN THIS AROUND 😭😭😭😭😭#anyways. glad i did. i have the worst stomach ache rn so i was Going through it#but my brain hit a reset so i feel normal now. save for the crying
11 notes · View notes