#so I’ll forgive him

[sunflour39]

They turned Monty back into a bird. That’s so sad

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Apology - Excerpt

Ford was working as he always was nowadays, half listening to the radio behind him and trying to stop his heart from jumping in his throat every time that Stan stopped speaking for more than 10 minutes and nothing but static filled the room again. Ford wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was talking about anymore, as he welded a set of support bolts into place, but he nearly dropped the welding gun on his foot when Stan suddenly spoke after a long stretch of silence.

“Ford?”

Ford fumbled for a moment before shoving a stack of loose paper aside and  setting the welding gun down on the table beside him. He put his hands on either side of the radio on the same cluttered table and took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes, Stanley?” He asked softly.

Stan, of course, didn’t hear him, but had paused as if waiting for a response before continuing anyway.

“I know, I know damn well you’re probably never gonna hear this, but I need to say it anyway before… Well. I don’t need to eat as often and shit and I know you’d love to figure out why but… I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last out here either way.”

Ford didn’t say anything, staring down at the wooden grain of the table like he could burn a hole clean through it with his thoughts alone. His palms ached from where he’d dug in his fingernails, and his shoulders mangled to hunch even further.

Stan laughed. It was a bitter, ugly sound.

“Ah, damnit. This isn’t about me. Can’t even do this right, you idiot” His brother took a deep breath. “ But Ford… I think I need to apologize.”

Some old, fossilized hurt in Ford’s heart snarked ‘you think?’, but Ford nearly gagged as he suffocated the thought before it could take root anew. He felt sick.

Oblivious to Ford’s turmoil —and of course he was, because he didn’t know Ford was right here, that Ford wasn’t going to let one of the last things he ever said to Stan be that he thought Stan was worthless— Stan continued.

“I don’t think I ever got to, back when… you know. What I said that night is a bit of a blur to me to be honest, but I know I was spouting nonsense and saying all the wrong shit and… Moses, Ford. I know it’s too late now but I’m sorry. I really am.”

Something in Ford simultaneously healed and broke in his chest at Stan’s words, but he didn’t get the chance to process it because Stan wasn’t quite done yet.

“And I need you to know it wasn’t on purpose. I’d never do that to you. Never. Why would I ever want to hurt you like that, poindexter? I just… I was scared and I didn’t want to be alone in Glass Shard Beach scraping barnacles off the Taffy shop for the rest of my miserable life and I wasn’t. Thinking.” Stanley’s voice had been rising in a steady crescendo, but suddenly got so quiet that Ford had to strain to catch the words in the buzzing static. “I’d… I shouldn’t have gone into the gym. I shouldn’t have even gone near your friggin project. I didn’t go there to break it, I would never—“ his voice broke. “I thought you knew that. I’m your brother, you dingbat, why would I ever want to hurt you?When did I ever not support you, man?”

“Then why did you do it?” Ford whispered back, just as quiet. That old anger he’d tried to push down rose up again, simmering. Stan knew he’d poured months of his life into the perpetual motion machine, that he’s shed more than a few tears and more than a little blood and sweat over it. And then he’d thrown it all away?

“I’d only hit the table, ya know. Didn’t think the grate’d pop off or anything like that. I tried to fix it. I know I should’ve told you, I know and I’m sorry, just…” I was scared, goes unspoken. Ford’s legs were shaking, and he tried to steadily himself by leaning further on the table. “I know I should’ve told you. I know. I messed up fuckin’ good, Sixer.” Ford flinched.

“I’m. I know you’re never gonna get the apology you deserve cause I was too much of a coward to actually call you and say something.” Stan’s voice was shaking. And I’m sorry for that too. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about your stupid book, and I’m sorry— ugh. We’ll be here all day trying to name my fuckups. That’s the last sorry you’ll ever hear from me you nerdy, uh, nerd.”

Stan sighed loud enough for the radio to crackle and screech. “Good going, Stan,” he muttered, his voice getting quieter as he evidently walked away, done.

And all that was left was static.

Ford pushed himself away from the table and sank into the rolling chair nearby, putting his face in his hands and trying to breathe as the chair was pushed back several feet from his momentum.

“He’s lying,” Ford tried to say, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “He’s trying to make it so… so.” He faltered. “He’s obviously trying to deceive me.”

Trust no one.

But he had trusted Stan. And Stan got hurled into a Dimension of Nightmares for it.

Stan has no reason to lie, Fords mind whispered, because it was always against him no matter what stance he took. He doesn’t think you’re coming to save him. Why wouldn’t he try to explain the worst mistake of his life in a fit of guilt and complete loss of hope?

“Shut up,” Ford said intelligently, and he didn’t dare pry his face away from his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and pushing up his glasses to his hairline

Stan had no reason to lie.

Stan came to help him at the drop of a hat after ten years of being too afraid to even call him. 

Stan… Stan didn’t mean to break his project. It was a stupid accident, done by a stupid teenager too afraid to admit his own failings. Stan didn’t betray Ford. Not like he thought his twin had, for all these years.

Ford was wrong. About everything. He was wrong about Stan and Bill and Fiddleford and, Moses, had he ever done anything right in his entire, miserable life? Ford didn’t know. 

The empty bunk bed beneath his own  for those last few fateful months before Backupsmore, the tears and screaming at a boat that never even left the shore, the years of resentment and refusing to believe he missed his own twin, what was it all for? Because Ford suddenly felt the sharp sting of grief all over again, throbbing with a ferocity he’d refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Years. 

It was like he was 17 years old again, mourning for all the wrong reasons and all the right ones too. For his brother. For his chance to become someone worthy of recognition, of love. For pushing away the ones who’d already loved him.

For the first time since the day Stan fell into the portal all those weeks ago, Ford pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat and, in the safety of his own arms, he wept.

The static crackled on, steady and unchanging. Unforgiving.

———————

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @littlelilliana15 (if anyone else wants to be tagged pls let me know! I’m going to probably be posting more for this au sometime this week)

I have ideas for a mini comic and a whole animatic using Space Oddity so I’ll just have to see how far I get, really

[panties-on-boys]

the quote “everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks in it” but it’s richie breaking down outside of neibolt screaming eddie we have to help him he’s still in there eddie eddie eddie

[javierduffy]

MIV’s (mentally-ill-vaquero)s latest post on how javier has religious trauma has got me thinking …. with javier’s internalized dynamic of saviorship and worship and God and Man … there’s actually some parallels between his (history with) religion and the way he deifies and glorifies dutch and is so entrapped in dutch’s indoctrination. he’s already susceptible to manipulation because of the cultural differences and the way that dutch has intentionally positioned himself to force javier to rely on him for his literal survival, but i think his history with religion further bolsters his susceptibility to indoctrination and manipulation, and his fear of god bleeds over into his fear of dutch, who seems to have a similar hold on javier’s mortal soul. and the way that javier feels that he CANNOT leave the gang, and the way that he CANNOT doubt dutch (and when he does, he repents, by “proving” his loyalty, unquestioningly. he fears dutch’s wrath, and so he falls in line when he is confronted with it, even just a little bit.), it’s just like how many (and even dare i say javier himself) fear leaving their religion, and fear doubting god, for the intimidation of losing His mercy, and what that means for them. his relationship with religion, and with the way religion itself (especially catholicism and christianity) FORCES most people to stay out of the sheer fear of going to hell and experiencing the suffering of eternal damnation, i believe, influences his dynamic with the entire world, ESPECIALLY images of power, like dutch. god scares javier into confusion and anger and resentment, but most of all into submission and repentance, and, just the same, dutch does too.

but also, both of javier’s gods contradict each other. dutch asks him to kill, and god asks he repent for his killing. javier escuella, poor man, cannot escape a life of maddening confusion. no wonder he ends up as an angry, empty, hateful husk of a man in the end.

[frysonbryson]

not to be like insane and talk about buddie right now and we all have much bigger fish to fry but actually how the fuck did we get dead character before we got Buddie canon like that makes no sense none of us wanted a dead main cast member ?!?!?!?!?? no one wanted anyone on the main cast to die we literally just wanted buddie

[kindlingkeen]

you know those instances when the pain of losing someone is too much and you consider forgetting them altogether? that, but Bruce chooses NOT to forget. instead, he'd rather remember Jason incorrectly. gaslighting himself is his coping mechanism. it's literally the opposite of honoring the dead

Oh, anon, you are really tugging on my heartstrings with this one. I completely agree. Honestly, to me, Bruce’s response to Jason’s death is unforgivable (not the immediate grief, but the way he rewrote the narrative). He destroyed Jason’s legacy, the piece him that should have lived on forever. Fifteen year old Jason Todd hardly had a chance to make a mark on the world. As Robin, he made a difference, he gave everything he had to making Gotham a better place, to standing up for people who didn’t have anyone else behind them. The public didn’t (couldn’t) know about Robin’s death, so the only keepers’ of that memory, of that legacy, was Jason’s family. And for completely selfish reasons, Bruce didn’t just obliterate it, he tarnished it beyond recognition. And he spread that poison to the next generation. As you said, it’s the opposite of honoring the dead.

To me, the true tragedy of Jason’s story is not that he died, that Batman didn’t save him, that he was a collateral damage in Batman’s crusade, that even after he came back begging for his Dad to choose him he still lost, that ultimately his death meant nothing. It’s that his father, the person that was supposed to love him most in life, made it so his life meant nothing. It’s heartbreaking.

I will never understand how dc decided to go from these two boys who loved each other so much (Batman #383):

To a father, who, almost in the same breath, could say his son was responsible for his own death (Batman Hush):

And then turn around and claim his son knew how much he loved him:

To a father, who claimed his son was nothing more than rage (Batman 614).

and recklessness (Detective Comics 790).

That is tragedy.

[lotus-pear]

how do you feel about new alnst mv teaser…

ACTUALLY CRASHING OUT WTFFF ITS SO OVER FOR MY POOR HYUNA 💔💔💔💔 smt tells me the special round is genuinely gonna end in someone’s death and idk who to feel more miserable for seeing them all as little babies hurts so fucking bad :((

[crystallizsch]

IAN WAKE UP

GOOD MORNFIGN??? iT’S 5AM IMSMSJSBIS

JAMILSHWHS HES SJSBWWKE

P .

PARDON MY FRENCH hHU. WHAT THE UFKC

iM SORRYYY????? WHAGT IS WRONF WITH HIM HES DANCING WITH SKEELTONS NOW???

tHis SKELETON. ME. THIS IS ME I’M DEAD DECEASED ROTTING JAW GAPING OPEN EYES HOLLOW IM DEAD GONE IN JAMILs ARMS

AND SEEING THE ROPE IM ASSUMING HE GRABBED A HANGING SKELETON AND DECIDED TO DANCE WITH IT??? GOODBYe. HES SO MESSED UP

ANYWAUS HELP ME HIS SINGULAR (1) FANG AND THE WAY HES LOOKDINHDH I WANT TO BSBSVESIOSXONXNXAKM PINCH HIM

SOMEOWBE COME PICK ME UP OR I FEAR YOU’LL FIND ME ON THE NEWS

[4ddi3addie2005]

Dr. Habit doodles n a demo of my Smilesona!! :-)

[frecklenog]

rewatching destiny is so funny but it also HURTS !!!!!!!!! jay has to hear his dad say he’d kill the destiny gang members, which includes little destiny, and i’m sure that finn would be understanding of jay and ld’s relationship but naturally since they’ve kept it a secret finn doesn’t fucking know and it clearly upsets the poor kid ,,, crying throwing up

[buddiedaydreamer911]

here i am, walking through my department and getting my work done while thinking about the hospital scene they dropped.

then i’m thinking about how i’m working until 10pm so ill be missing the episode live and can only finish it once i finish my shift.

then i’m thinking…… oh no….. am i….. tommy??😳

finishing shift before 🤝 finishing shift before

seeing buck in hospital seeing buck in episode

[skoulsons]

When I got my first job at 16, I was suffering with severe depression and suicidal ideation of all kinds. I was a shell of a person that hated and dreaded every waking moment of my life. Every breath felt like a waste of time

During my days of training, I was blessed with incredible coworkers that brought me out of socially anxious shell and really showed me the fun of working in the industry. One of these people is a family member of mine, though not related by blood

I didn’t know him then. We probably said “hi” to each other once or twice at a family gathering and maybe had one awkward side hug since he joined the family. That was the extent of it

But through work, I attached myself to him. He became my comfort. Who and what I looked forward to every shift. I was a stupid, depressed teen who swore like a sailor, and yet he, in his abounding grace and love, showed me those qualities every shift. There was equal amounts of teaching as there was snark, playful insults, and remarks. He made me laugh enough in one shift that set me for the week

It’s been quite a few years since I was that age, of that mentality, and since we’ve worked together as coworkers. Tonight, he sat beside me at a Christmas Eve party as a tease, and we laughed a lot. We threw toys at each other, shared half a brain cell, and laughed so, so hard at each others antics

He has no idea the extent that 16 y/o me loved and treasured him. He probably still doesn’t, and I don’t know if I’ll ever tell him. But boy is it sweet to hear his laugh and to eat Christmas ham beside him and know that his presence is something that I owe a little bit of my life to

[soullessjack]

dean and his son who he clearly “hates” and “never cared about.” clearly

[doll-elvis]

I’m just having one of those days…

(crying over a man I never met because I miss him)

[mammomlette]

thinking about how Belphie’s situation in s1 is so Blackbird (the song) coded

(Because I never stop thinking of lesson 16 and Belphie in season1 I could go on a word rampage about that arc.)

warnings: SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16 OBEY ME lesson 16 is its own warning guys

Notes: I basically just rewrote the s1 Belphie plot line. That’s it. It’s basically the exact same but written narratively lol. Also!! I plan on writing part 3 of the obey me as soulmate tropes (barb and dia are already done) but Solomon’s part is giving me such a creative block for some reason so it’s taking a while! Sorry!

Constructive criticism welcomed :)

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

Shouts for help echoed through the hallways of the House of Lamentation. Why did it seem nobody but you (and the man who tried stopping you from approaching the attic, Lucifer) could hear them?

You snook your way around the house, trying to avoid the stars visible from Lucifer’s doorway and other places you’ve seen him roam at night. Even if he was distracted listening to Levi’s TSL vinyl, you didn’t want to risk it. You were determined to go up to the attic and listen to the voice shouting for you to please help, so you could free whatever may be trapped up there or at least hear it out.

You thought for a moment his calls for help sounded akin to a blackbird singing a morning’s song, though there are no mornings in the eternal darkness of the devildom; only the dead of night forever.

“Take these broken wings and learn to fly,”

You carefully made your way up the stairs, “MC, finally, no one is going to stop you. Now’s your chance to climb the stairs.” How did this voice know your name? More importantly, why are they asking you for help? What got them up there in the first place?

Your internal questions halted when you finally came face to face with the person behind the caged door of the attic. He never said his name, however he did ask you for help, and who were you if not humane? You’re here as a human, after all. He instructed to you to make pacts with the six demon brothers, starting with Beelzebub, in order to gain the power to free him. Your heart hurt for the poor human who claimed to have been locked away for so long they’ve forgotten who they are and how long exactly they’ve been locked away.

Make pacts with my brothers, learn to set me free.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.”

Belphie has been waiting for so long, months now spent just sitting in the same room, air long turned stale. He could tell you exactly how many boards were on the floor and cobwebs were in the corners of the room. Of course, his brother had to lock him away. Of course, his brother chose Diavolo’s rule over his own little brother.

Finally, after so long, there was finally something. A human no less, who had finally managed to enter the attic. If it had to be a human who would save him, so what?

He had been waiting so long for this moment to arrive. A moment to be free again, and even a moment to seek revenge.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

All Belphie heard at night now was the voice of this human. It’s strange how much comfort its grown to bring him, given his plan. But the voice of his brothers and his dead twin would be much more comforting to hear, and his sister was a much more comforting presence.

He knows he won’t miss you when you���re gone, or else he just wouldn’t go through with it, he just wouldn’t continue to manipulate you into working to free him just for him to kill you. But he will miss the routine of having a concerned voice chirping at him in the dead of night while everyone else is asleep. He’s sure Beel will suffice.

“Take these sunken eyes and learn to see,”

At last the moment came, you had finally freed him, even if you weren’t there when the cage opened, he knows it was you. Had you finally made a pact with Lucifer? Is that why he’s free? Credit given where credit is due, you were surprisingly competent for a human. It’s a shame the fate that befalls you. The fate Belphie has the power of stopping, but chooses not to.

Your eyes were so tired he noticed in the brighter lighting of purgatory hall. Sunken and tarnished by dark bags. Was this the result of your late night visits to the attic? Had you just been working too hard? Who knows, I’d rather, who cares? Any pity he felt, he swallowed down and it was quickly drowned by his seething and growing hatred for your kind. Maybe in another life, he and Lilith would be sneaking down into the human world to watch you and your kin, but not anymore. You can’t teach him to see humans as more than vermin.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

A humans life is always only building up to death. It’s what every human spends their life anticipating, waiting for the sweet relief or curdling torture of death. Would you feel dread in your last moments? Perhaps irony? He never could grow fond enough of you to change his plans, but you did plant an invasive seed of interest in him. He hates how he wants to understand you now more than ever, how does the human mind and spirit face death? Are you different from the countless other humans he’s killed? Are you more accepting?

It’s sad to say that the only regret he has from killing you is not making it last long enough for you to express your final thoughts to him. If only he had dragged your death out longer, given you time and air to carefully pick out your last words, maybe even a last emotion shared just with him. The thought of wanting to be the one to see your dying face, hear your dying thoughts and feel your dying senses feels quite intimate for a murderer and the murdered. Maybe in another life you weren’t unfortunate enough to be born as a human. In another life, he thinks. He dwells on the ‘ifs’ too often.

It’s only natural for humans to die. They wait their entire life for that moment of freedom, really he gifted you by killing you while you were still well loved by those around you, his brothers. Oh, his brothers will be mad… they’ll get over it, in time. They can’t love you enough to stay mad at their sweet little brother, right?

[judebelllngham]