#lowkey need him dead

[ranna-alga]

Idk about you guys but I am an absolute sucker for stoic, strong, providing/protective, "macho-macho" male characters absolutely just breaking down when the going gets a bit too tough. Willing to shoulder any burden or battle scars if it means granting their loved ones' safety, but cracking when it gets too much, getting disheveled when things go wrong, when things are out of their control, when they've lost so much that they cannot hold it in anymore. They cannot continue being strong, at least just for now when they just need to decompress.

With that said, Arthur Morgan absolutely deserved to have a good cry. I'm upset he hasn't in the game, at least from what we have seen. Despite how strong and hardened this 36-year-old seasoned outlaw is, he is still a man - a good man at heart (at least in my canon as a High Honour truther).

There is no way he couldn’t have cried on the ship after watching his own father and mentee/lowkey-son-figure die right before his eyes. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when he failed his chance of running away with the love of his life whilst he still had the chance, and having to come to terms with the fact that the last memory she will hold of him will be him making another promise he couldn't keep + that the last piece of her he has left is her essentially writing him out of her life with no time or opportunity to explain. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when the fear of death/the fate that awaited him and his loved ones got too overwhelming for him. There is no way he couldn’t have cried when he started seeing both life and death differently after Sister Calderón's inspiring words in that train station.

He deserved to have a good cry. Arthur, a man living in the American 1890s where there was a certain expectation for men (outlaw or otherwise) to surpress any 'weak' emotion, finally admitting "I'm afraid" was one of the 'manliest' and most human moments we ever see him have, and it was so simple yet so beautiful. The man has been through so much pain as much as he has inflicted it - he deserves a hearty moment of release. To cry, to sob, to wail, whatever. He just needed that after everything.

[honey-bird10]

if i took a shot everytime hyj mentioned how handsome or perfect shj is i actually would’ve died about 100 chapters ago holy shit

[marimeeko]

Izuku goes back to classes and the kids eventually notice that GEMG Dynamight hasn't interrupted Midoriya-sensei's classes in quite a while. Midoriya-sensei, oblivious fucker as he is, realizes that they are right and wonders. (Katsuki is still driving him to work as usual, and he still sees him when he takes a patrol shift, so it hadn't registered) Izuku chalks it up to Katsuki just being a busy hero during the day.

Anyway, conversation wanders, the kids find out that Midoriya-sensei has a date later!

They all get excited, and they start asking him, where is DynaMight taking him?? "Are you going to get him flowers, you totally should, Midoriya-sensei!"

Izuku stalls out, looking at all of them confusedly, and says "guys, there's a misunderstanding, I'm not going on a date with Dynamight...?"

Class loses their shit, and ask him WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

And Izuku has to awkwardly explain that he is dating Uraraka/pro hero Uravity

And in a total shock to Izuku, the class loses their shit again and are like WAIT YOU AND DYNAMIGHT BROKE UP?!! WHEN!?!

Izuku is deep in the shit now and has to tell them that they were never dating and the class DOESNT BELIEVE HIM. Their entire worldview has been shifted with this information. They literally thought that Sensei and DynaMight were 100 percent dating. Why else. WHY ELSE would Dynamight crash his classes, come do guest presentations so often, and flirt with him during lunch??

Cue a weird play on the Parent Trap where Izukus students try to get DynaMight and Sensei back together, lmao.

[gorespawn]

also while we're here i would like to share the two iterations of tumblr user gorespawn that have existed since i abandoned this blog back in like early 2021. Who wants me

[kingdomoftyto]

....... WAIT. IS THAT LORD MONOCHROMICORN???

[kyouka-supremacy]

DELACROIX SPOTTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[miraluking-respectfully]

felix being referred to more or less exclusively as "your soldier" in-game speaks to how little the writers put into his character beyond his noggin full of sith secrets & his relationship with the consular; still, i do find it kind of sweet and funny, in a way. he's not a republic soldier, not even your personal bodyguard; he's your soldier. the consular is a small nation-state in and of herself

[dainesanddaffodils]

me, making my How My WoL Feels About NPCS Post-Heavensward post: Cimorene, please just tell me how the fuck you feel about Estinien. It's changed like 5 times over the course of the expansion. Like, what are you two?

Cimorene: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[vampire-named-gampire]

Six sentence sunday

Since I don't spam other people with my writing enough as it is already. Two people brought up Arrival of the birds to me this week, and it reminded me that technically, I have a sequel in the works. Then I went and wrote a bit more of the sequel. I'm hoping to finish it, but I don't make any promises. But here's a bit from Chapter 1, Baz's POV

🦆🦆🦆

I place a carton of oat milk (yes, I made Snow switch over) and a jar of sugar in the centre of the table just as the kettle clicks. As the group goes around, pouring their tea, I turn towards the sink, taking a moment to compose myself. It is then that I see Snow’s car pulling up in the driveway.

Oh, thank fuck.

“Excuse me for a moment,” I say to my guests and head towards the foyer to meet Snow by the front door.

He parks and exits the car, holding two plastic bags that I know are filled to the brim with bird seed.

“Hey,” he smiles, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Why are all those cars parked in the road?”

🦆🦆🦆

On second thought, I think Simon the conservation ecologist would probably use tote bags, not plastic bags. But then again, he also drank real milk until Baz came along so... 🤷‍♂️

[unnerving-presence]

is it bad that leon kinda got ruined for me because of both those weird fans that would kinda go overboard AND the overexposure of him as of recent? like i think leon is super cool and i love how they flesh out his character in re4r and how he treats the different characters but every time i see him now my face drops.

i could only wish some characters in the series would get the attention that leon does by some of the fans and capcom :/

like i really want to appreciate leon but it’s so damn hard cause i’m actually so tired of seeing him all the time getting all the attention while other, lesser used characters sit in the dark.

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

33 for anyone you'd really like to plinko :D

33. protector/sacrifice (leaning more into sacrifice because i'm. mean lol) me @ me: how to save candaith while also having a dead character to give the troubled dream sequence the Weight ™ it deserves [redacted]: bonjour c: me: oh. thats how. FUCK anyway! spoilers for the forsaken road :') ish.

The wind screams in the caverns, cutting through Saelinriel's cloak as if it's made of paper, and she shivers. Her hands shake as they hold her torch as she ventures further into the cavern, following closely behind Radanir.

There is a howling gust and all the torches, not just hers, go out in a single puff, drowning the Grey Company in darkness.

The darkness is all consuming, until, breaths later, blue light flickers into being, like corpse-candles.

They are tall columns, indistinguishable from shadows in the evening at first, before steadily growing clearer and clearer until Saelinriel can see each face with perfect detail. Saelinriel can almost feel the anger that radiates from them like a heatwave, and they get only angrier when Halbarad challenges them.

Finally, the leader seems to call off the other shades and look straight at her, so intently as if they are trying to turn her into a shade by sheer force alone. Chill clings to her bones as the leader instructs her to find Britou, who speaks with all who pass through the Forsaken Road. 

Then, as quickly as blowing out a candle, the shades disappear.

They are not gone, she still feels the chill of the air that lingers around the Dead, but they are no longer visible, and that is better than nothing. Halbarad tells her that he and Radanir will search one side of the cavern, and tells her to find Candaith, who ought to be down that way.

Just as she is about to go down into the tunnel where Britou awaited, something catches her elbow, and she nearly jumps several feet in the air. There is an apologetic chuckle, and Tadan steps out of the shadows. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says ruefully, as she shakes her head, trying to calm her heart rate. “Where are you headed?” 

She shrugs. “I was told that Candaith would be down this way, and to find him before speaking with Britou.”

“Mind if I come with you?” 

If Saelinriel has to tell the truth, the company is more than welcome. The chill makes her teeth chatter, and the Dead sets her on edge, so she nods, and they find Candaith, and the three of them go see Britou. 

The stones crack underneath Saelinriel’s boots as she walks, and her shoulders brush the wall of the tunnel before it spits them out into a bowl shaped cavern, where a shade – bright in the dimness, with horribly keen, piercing eyes - waits in silence. 

He studies them keenly, and there is a coldness in his eyes. He feels much more alive than the other shades and something about him makes her chest twist into knots.

“All who stray here belong to the Dead.” Britou speaks the word dead with a horrifying finality, and it is all she can do to not step back. “It was unwise to come here, warm-bloods.”

"You came to this place to escape your curse, Britou. But there was no escape, was there?" Candaith says, coldly. “You will never know the peace of death until you fulfill your oath.”

Britou scoffs and summons shade after shade, trying to wear them all down, until Candaith steps forward, eyes blazing underneath his hood and mask. “Enough of this!" he commands fiercely. "We need prove nothing to you.”

Britou laughs and five shades appear this time. Saelinriel and Candaith and Tadan barely manage to defeat them – if defeat is the right word, since they cannot truly be slain for they are the Dead Who Do Not Rest.

"End this, Britou! I command you to end this!" Candaith says, every inch one of the Dúnedain.

"I need not listen to your commands, warm-blood!" Britou raises his hands for the spirits to come again but--

"Hold!" Candaith's voice echoes with power, like the roaring sea, and Saelinriel nearly claps her hands to her ears with the way it bounces off the stone walls. “I have the authority to command you and all your kind, Britou!”

Her heart freezes in her chest and she almost chokes on her breath. She and Tadan share a look that says the same thing: What is candaith doing?

Britou scowls, his faint blue light growing brighter by the minute. "Impossible! What evidence dost thou have that this be so?” He hisses the words out, his voice shuddering off the walls, as if there is a multitude of him instead of one.

Candaith pulls his glove off without lowering his sword and his bebarahir glints in faint blue light as he holds it aloft. “The ring of Barahir, heirloom of isildur's line!"

Britou snarls, his face going dark. His eyes narrow as he studies Candaith, and the small room gets even colder – Saelinriel’s teeth chatter faster than before.  “I see…”

She does not know what Britou is looking for in Candaith’s face, but try as she might, Saelinriel cannot see over Candaith's shoulder. 

A few moments pass. 

She can tell by the way the cavern goes still – more still than before – that something passes unseen and unspoken between them. 

“We will fulfil our oath at last, that the heir may lift the curse. thou may tell thy men.”

Ever so slowly, Candaith turns to face her and Tadan.

The relief that flooded her at Britou's admission slowly ebbs away, draining out of her and leaving the dregs of worry and fear in their place – instead of a triumphant smile, a grimace graces Candaith’s face, like he is bracing himself for something unpleasant.

She watches as Tadan’s eyes go wide.

And everything happens at once.

Britou's lips curl into a devious smile and he looms large behind Candaith, casting a dark blue shadow over him, and Saelinriel’s mouth drops open and she can't- she can't say anything, she can't force a single syllable out. 

Britou lifts his spirit-sword high and Tadan only just manages to shout a warning, but it is too late – Britou strikes Candaith down before there is time for him to even do anything. 

“But that is not the Ring of Barahir, and thou art not the heir of Isildur.”

The words echo in a deafening judgment as  Candaith staggers forward and she tries - though she knows, logically, that she would not be able to catch him easily - to keep him from hitting the ground hard. 

He is so still and heavy, and she is frozen and cannot move and Britou's eyes glint as he narrows in on her and Tadan as red oozes across Candaith’s back. 

“Get Candaith out of here,” Tadan says, his voice only slightly shaky as he steps between Britou and the two of them and– 

Saelinriel wants to argue, she can’t– won’t– just leave him here, (she made a promise in Evendim, at the side of Astiul's cairn, all those months ago) but the red stain on the back of Candaith’s tunic is rapidly spreading and getting concerningly dark. 

Her free-hand hovers above her sword, torn, as Britou continues to summon shade after shade. 

“Just give me a head start,’’ he says, swords drawn. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“But–”

Candaith lets out a cough, and blood trickles out of his mouth. 

“Go!”

Britou's cold, cruel laughter echoes through the hollow chambers as she is forced – half-carrying, half-dragging a woozy Candaith – through the tunnels, harried by the Dead. 

All around them, the cavern shakes, as rocks and dust shudder down from the ceiling and the Dead pursue them as they flee, though more than once she turns, trying to see where Tadan is, but the haze of falling debris makes that impossible. They stumble over planks of wood, over bodies -- and this makes her want to be sick, but to be sick is to stop and to stop is... not an option.

An eternity passes – or so it feels – before the two of them stumble into Radanir, nearly knocking him down as the world shifts and tilts, and Saelinriel grabs his arm with her free hand – partly to steady herself, and keep from toppling Candaith onto the floor at such an abrupt stop. 

At once, Radanir ducked under Candaith’s other arm, and some of the weight shifts, balancing out, and Saelinriel’s shoulders aren’t screaming so loudly at her for trying such a task alone anymore. 

Radanir looks utterly concerned, his brows drawn together as he tries to limp them toward the exit, but his words floated to her as if he were speaking underwater. “What has happened? All of a sudden, the Oath-breakers fell upon us, and we have only driven them off for the moment!”

“I…” She stumbles over herself as they come nearly to the mouth of the caverns, and Radanir tries to take Candaith further but her feet are rooted to the ground as black spots dance in her vision and her next words scrape her throat raw: “Stop! We have to wait for Tadan!” 

The cavern is shaking still, sending more and more debris down on them but...

Radanir says something about her and Candaith being nearly the last ones in the caverns -- everyone else is gone -- and surely Tadan is waiting for them outside.

Another rattling boom as the cavern walls shake harder, throwingg down boulders the size of Saelinriel's torso, and there really is no arguing now.

But, as the three of escape into the fading daylight, stumbling bloodied and pale with the rest of the company back to Lhaunch, she keeps her eyes on the darkness of the tunnels until the very last.

[welcometoteyvat]

filled w indescribable urge to see those mindblowingly stunning zhongli artworks

[thatchaoscreator]

Mutual Understanding

(Word count: 165)

This is what happens when I think about my kins and hurt/comfort at the same time. Enjoy.

Warnings: Slight Angst?

The young man heard footsteps approaching from behind. He didn't move, he didn't even flinch. He wasn't alarmed for he knew their owner.

"Hello, Great Sage."

He greeted not taking his eyes off of the horizon.

"Hello."

The king sat next to the young man.

"What brings you to this cliffside?"

The young man didn't respond. It was clear the wounds were too fresh to speak of. The king doubted the wounds had healed at all, but he didn't pry. Instead he hummed in understanding before speaking once more.

"It never gets easier."

"I know..."

The young man's voice quivered. It was dry and broken as he spoke barely above a whisper. Silent tears began gliding down his pale cheeks his pain surfacing. The king didn't mention it, choosing to reside himself in the cool silence as they stared off into the sunset.

That cliffside is where they remained even long after the sun had set as they basked in the comforting presence of someone who understood their pain. The feeling washed over them like a cool breeze on a dreadfully hot summer's day.

It's true that it would never get easier. They were both well aware of that fact, but it didn't matter.

They weren't alone anymore.

[writingblueefurfire]

Show don't tell only works when you balance it with tell don't show. Telling me a character is in love doesn't do much, if they never show their love. And likewise, I ain't a mindreader, no amount of Acts of Service, or Physical Affection is gonna make me think a character loves someone beyond the platonic, unless it is also stated. One of my favourite book series shows rather than tells. With everything. To the point that if I hadn't read spoilers for it, the fact that one of the characters asked an other to marry them in the epilouge would have come completely out of the left field. If I remember correctly, even with that foreknowledge, no amount of shipper goggles had me shipping them up until that point. I can't read between the lines if there is no lines in the first place.

[nibbles-whispers]

also success is not the best revenge i am wildly successful rn and am still not over my ex sooooo

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

i hope that the person who liked my tweet about dunes birthday and has been reposting dune the movie things knows that idc about dune the movie i only care about dune my oc. my beloved oc. my very very very beloved oc who was named after a grumpy elderly character in the hit book series wings of fire, not dune the movie