#now i know and also went insane

[maskedchip]

when she's wiling to turn into a devil to protect and fight for her friends 😍🥰🤩💗💖💗🌸🌺🌷🤩🥰🥰🌸🥰🌸🌺🌷🌸💖💗

[akiacia]

some of the right words

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

more of the dapper lad! i Cannot get him out of my brain

[backpackingspace]

Consider young odysseus and Penelope courting by going on adventures together (committing crimes)

[b0nelessdoodles]

started this before mystic flour dropped and then was too busy trying to pull her to finish this lmao anyway tfw you and the besties are going nuts or something

[nychthemeron-rants]

Ok, so IDK how canon the ages we have for when the Hazbin crew died is, but it has been giving me massive fucking brainrot.

But not only that, but also the match up of their ages and the eras in which they died.

There was a point in time where Alastor, Angel Dust, and Husk were all alive at the same time.

Assuming "mid-30's" means 35, it means that since Angel died in 1947, he was born in 1912.

Husk dying at 75 in the 70's means he was born in the 1900's or maybe even the late 1890's.

Alastor being in his 40's when he died in 1933 means he was born in the 1890's (roughly)

So from 1912 (ish), to 1933 all 3 were alive at the same time.

At the time of Alastor's death: Alastor was in his 40's, Husk was in his mid 30's to maybe early 40's, and Angel (or rather Anthony as we know his human name) was about 21.

Also all 3 experienced the great depression. Husk and Angel experienced WW2. Theres a chance they both fought in the fucking war!

[stuckinapril]

Woke up having a crisis about if I want an MD or an MD PhD………. It’s so over

[cherubchoirs]

Michael, the Ruined Prince

Michael, having used all of his power to seek out God, had failed as the Prince of Heaven. He had abandoned his people, absent for centuries on a fruitless search filled with unheard, increasingly desperate prayers and an unrelenting, bone-deep exhaustion that is now permanent. His grief grew day by day, and an angel in isolation begins to wither, to warp – they must be with one another lest they twist into their extremes, retreating into their divine purpose until it becomes self-destructive parody. And Michael had already been scarred long ago by his role in banishing Lucifer, by God’s own ever-mounting wrath that ate away at the mercy he was meant to feel alongside it. Michael had already been insular, something had already pulled at the seams of his soul, and now centuries of failure consume him. He would return to Heaven with nothing for his people. Nothing for the siblings he swore to protect.

So his final thought in a deeply troubled mind urged him to try one last time. That if he could not find God, then he must bring God to himself. He must sin, he must beg for punishment, and then God will come to deliver it onto him. Just as He once did to Lucifer. It disgusted him, to think he had to debase himself to be as the sinners he held nothing but vile contempt for ever since he couldn’t cope with the guilt of the first fallen angels. But his prayers have failed, his days of weeping have failed, he moved Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to come up with empty hands. Less than that. Not even a feeling. So Michael, even as a Cherub who could not, did everything he could to replicate his memories of when he had witnessed God Himself tear the light from His angels. Michael had seen it every time, it was he that had to bind any fallen angel that survived it to their place in Hell. He knew, implicitly, what the ritual was even if God seemed to enact it in one beautiful, elegant motion. And he did just that. Imperfect pantomiming, flawed execution, but the same ritual as best as Michael could copy it. All to himself.

But only God and the high Seraphim can sever an angel from their light.

His soul was rent from his body. His light was torn to shreds by his inexperienced hands. The agony that it screeched resounded all the way back to Heaven in unintelligible, muted whispers of nauseous grief no one could understand. Michael felt himself die, but it was incomplete. He was left in a corpse, a body destroyed and succumbing to all it meant but with him still inside of it. God did not come, and Michael was trapped a ruined body, bereft of a soul, of his light, giving way to rot and deterioration yet fully functional. He could do nothing but take this as a sign from God, one that he will not be punished no matter his crime for being such a loyal servant. Even as his body falls apart, as plants begin to burst from his remains, he believes himself to be blessed – see how he grows God’s garden. See how his crown remains pristine. He adorns his exposed bones with gems and finery, ostensibly as thanks to God for keeping him alive, keeping him sinless when he had so despised his impending fall from grace. But. Michael is, in the back of his mind, highly aware of what he’s become. He knows he is rotting, he knows he is in a dead body, he knows, somewhere, God had nothing to do with it. It was just a mistake, it was just his own foolishness with catastrophic consequence. He is more noxious than a fallen angel now, a botch job shambling numbly back to Heaven when he feels the death of Gabriel.

Upon his return, he largely attempts to hide the rot of his body, at least from the citizenry – he cannot hide it from Raphael or Uriel, nor does he try. To Michael, it proves his devotion, it shows God’s still present love for him, and it is a testimony to how he cannot fall, that he can never lose his place in Heaven. Raphael begs for him to be healed, Uriel pleads reason to him, but neither had ever been as strong as Michael and ultimately, he is their leader. No matter the state he returns in, he is the Prince of the Archangels and truthfully...they both fear him now. He is not the Michael they loved, not the one that had been quiet and stoic yet still loving in return. The Michael that would have done anything for them, that never wanted to lose another like he lost Lucifer. He commands them now to join him in binding Gabriel, his tangible grief the only thing that seems to be left of who he had once been.

Internally, Michael sees their fear, he feels the crushing guilt of Gabriel’s fall, he is violently ill with one true look at himself. He had gone wrong a long, long time ago, when he lost Lucifer, and now all of that was being made manifest, but he can’t face it. As flesh falls away, he covers it more and more with jewels as if that could hide the decay he can feel spreading night and day, the only thing he feels now. He must retreat into his purpose, he must not allow such devastating failure to be his legacy. So he turns on Gabriel. Gabriel, whose light had been severed. Who walks freely in an abandoned Hell. Who still has a living, breathing body. Michael’s vitriol toward the damned hones in on Gabriel, consumed with being sure he is left nailed to the lowest pit in Hell for his treachery. All the love he once had turns to hatred and in it, the other three can see that Michael has been left shattered, that nothing in him truly believes God made him this way. God’s most loyal, left to rot.

Additional information:

Michael now always exudes the Odor of Sanctity, but there is a distinct undertone of mold to it

The opalescent webbing that runs through his body is the angelic brain - normally it is iridescent and transparent with a strange glow, but Michael's is opaque and dull

Michael now prefers walking, something noted as unusual when he returned to Heaven, but it's simply due to the fact that his body has been left entirely numb and so it's difficult to maneuver in the air properly

He is very protective of his crown and dragon-skin bag, as they seem to be the only things left uncorrupted on him

[slasherscream]

also... bringing in the new year with good information... i have OFFICIALLY left my abusive boyfriend!

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

the thing i love about bill cipher is that even after i've learned all of this stuff about him, seen him at the most vulnerable he'll ever get, seen him at his most innocent, i still can't give a flying fuck about trying to justify his actions. yes he's traumatized, yes he was twisted into what we know today, and while it gives a semblance of context to why he did what he did, it doesn't matter. he still ruined ford's life. he still drove and baited multiple humans to suicide. he still tormented every human he saw as his ticket out of the consequences of his own actions. he still took delight in his actions. he was willing to commit genocide for fuck's sake!!! (freezing all of the humans into statues). trying to explain away what he did does not get rid of what he did, but it certainly puts it in perspective. you won't be catching me being a bill apologist any time soon <3

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 20 (finale)

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 154 spoilers n thoughts n all that yeah

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HE DID THE THING HE DID THE >:3 THING YESS YAYYYY YAYAYAYAYY HAHAHAHAA

GOD HES SO FUCKING SILLY WAHAHAHA

jesus christ running from the cops every which way LMAO i really like their faces here javier w exasperation and lloyd just. being him

AND THE UGLY COSPLAYER BIT WHAT 😭 HELP LOL?? i guess cosplayers walking around isnt really a common thing in korea idk i feel like. they didnt really commit an offense until lloyd tried bribing that cop guy lol

like it makes me think back to dkc and how michael and the other guy (I FORGOT HIS NAME SORRY) went to seoul for a bit and kind of caused several accidents and i feel like that fits better w getting the cops attention compared to,,, rummaging thru trash? but also i am not familiar w korea's police system! nor do i know their policies on foreigners n whatnot so who am i to say yknow

i also really really wish that besides the cop chasing, we got to see a lil bit more of javier's reaction to seoul and its citizens, the clothing and the culture and how the buildings look, what does he think of them? whats his feelings on an environment so dissimilar to his own, and does he notice anything abt it that reminds him of lloyd and his sudden acquisition of all his knowledge? maybe theres more of that in the webnovel,,, itll be a while before i get there tho unfortunately

anyways thoughts aside more reacting

UUUAGHHHH JAVIER NOTICING EVERY SINGLE TIME LLOYD APPEARS SICK OR UNWELL BUT LLOYD BRUSHING IT OFF. EXPLODES INTO TEN BILLION PIECES. AAGHH AAGHHHH AAGHH screaming crying god that engineer needs a god damn hug

also them in civilian clothes! they look so dorky lmao the hats r super cute tho AND I REALLY LIKE THAT JAVIER HAS GLASSES THATS SO SILLY how can he see though wouldn't it be like vaguely blurry . most glasses are prescription,,, tho they did find this stuff discarded so maybe theyre just,,, decorative??? do people still wear decorative glasses???

i have more thoughts on their attire but it coincides with some thoughts i have for the latter half of this ep so i'll bring it up then!

THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE EPISODE THE MOUNTAIN TRAIL AAGHHH AAAHHH

i started tearing up oh my FUCKING god i feel so insane ohhhhhhhh ohhhhhhh my heart ohhghhh

trying to keep his bluff up all the way through even though he's visibly struggling im gonna throw up im gonna throw up

most if not all the panels in this latter half of the episode make me feel like this so i'll try not to be repetitive and jump straight into my thoughts LMAO

i think the way lloyd is drawn in these panels is really, REALLY well done, and not in just an "oh the art looks good" kind of way, but the choices they make with the posing and the camera angle makes me feel insane

because the moment we cut to the shot where they're on the trail, we do not see lloyd's entire face at ALL. the most we see is his nose and mouth, and that makes my heart squirm like a motherfucker, because who else did we see that way in the webtoon?

kim suho, all the way at the beginning.

we don't actually get to know suho's face until way, way later in the webtoon adaptation, which is once he's way more secure in his position as lloyd frontera

so seeing this,,, it's like we're thrown back to then, it's like LLOYD is thrown back to then, back to when he was just suho kim; someone who thought of himself as nothing, as someone who just couldn't function correctly in this world, and god does my heart ache

and lloyd right now feels it too, the anxieties he once had coming right back. and i think that makes the clothing choices for lloyd specifically really impactful too, specifically upper body

the blue poloshirt is eerily reminiscent of the blue tracksuit suho used to wear, and it's the layer underneath a green jacket with a collar similar to lloyd's usual coat. it's like a reminder to the reader that once upon a time, he was just suho wearing lloyd's mask in a strange, new world. i think this experience is a reminder of that to suho, too,,,

also, the bucket hat is able to cover most if not all of his hair. in some of these panels, you can't even tell that it's lloyd underneath. it might not be the same body, with the way the camera is positioned, especially with some of them being from javier's point of view, it's like,,, "who is speaking right now? the face of lloyd frontera, or the heart of suho kim?"

and in the middle of this, we hear javier speak and ask suho if he hated his behavior, blamed himself for his anxieties, and only then do we get to see one of his eyes, but just one.

idk if the timing of this is intentional (i dont know if ANY of this direction is intentional) but id like to think that javier responding in search of clarification (rather than responding in silence or in disgust) helped suho be a little more inclined to opening up and being honest with who he was in this world. i really really like that

AND THIS ARGHHH ARGHHH AAAHHHHH ROLLING AROUND ON THE FLOOR LIKE A PILLBUG HAVING A SEIZURE AGHHHH

it makes it so so telling that he's the type to live for others, he always has been, to the point of being a workaholic. a quiet, good kid, trying to make amends for the struggles he has by burdening himself with the responsibility of protecting his parents names, of protecting the people he loved. he's done that since the beginning and he keeps doing that over and over and over, both here on earth and there in lorasia.

it makes me so upset (in a character drive way! not in a "this is bad" way) that he thinks of himself as nothing without this responsibility, when this ability to move forward and endure and fight for people is something beautiful in and of itself. it's not every day that you meet people like this, selfless and hardworking and tenacious to their core. back then he encapsulated his identity based on his inability to function in a world that requires social and physical interaction - something that isn't his fault! - and while he was able to move past that in lorasia, he was thrown back to this encapsulation once in seoul. he started to think of himself as "suho in lloyd's body" again, instead of "i am lloyd frontera" as he said before his "bluff" failed. MY HEART HURTS.

and i think that's why javier's concluding note, that in the knights eyes he is just the same person, is so impactful too.

because javier doesn't see lloyd based on his anxiety. he sees him for who he is. someone who protects the people he cares about. someone who is brilliantly cunning, quick on his feet, rational and brave and tenacious tenacious tenacious. for all the things suho admitted to javier, these truths haven't changed for the knight. he's the same person.

javier sees a guardian. javier sees kim suho.

AND THAT is what gets suho to his feet and we finally see his full face again. AND OOHHHH THE LOOKS THEY GIVE EACH OTHER AGHHHH AHHH

the marks of tears streaked on his face but he's smiling with so much renewed energy and javier softly smiling back IM GONNA THROW UPPPP THESE TWO MEAN THE WORLD TO MEEEE AHHHHHH AAAAAAHHHHHH

exploding. exploding. exploding. exploding. exploding.

anyway that's all (for now. if you see me on twitter i might still be agonizing over this /pos) i will SEE YOU NEXT WEEK! i hope we get a cool view from namsan tower and javier reacting to that that'd be nice :3 ANYWAYS BYE

[gojooooo]

man i love open endings. the fact that thanks to yuuji there might indeed be the next time sukuna talks about in case some idiot decides to eat a finger again. and we need fics where yuuji is that idiot

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[willyhoos]

final totk verdict.