#so i said hey why not

[fearandhatred]

the rapture

it's a holy thing, in theory, a glorious celebration, where those who believe rise to meet the lord in the air. it's a day of joy, in theory, and maybe even of vindication for those who have always believed.

but no one thinks about how it's like to see the dead rise again—bodies clawing their way out of bolted wood and six feet of packed earth, bodies decomposed and maggot-feasted, nails stained with rot and dirt. no one thinks about the violent lurch of their bodies being jolted into the air by the stomach, gravity flinging their heads back down to earth as they struggle in vain to find footing on molecules and gas. no one thinks about those who don't make it.

no one thinks about the screams.

crowley hadn't thought about any of these things. he certainly hadn't thought about the angels that would be called back to heaven along with the believers.

here they stand dead in the middle of absolute ruin, the promise of heaven the only thing left to look forward to on the wasteland of this earth. the sky has opened up like the eye of god, watching over her people for the very first time, and crowley's black wings against the beams of light only remind him that he doesn't belong up there with the rest of them. crowley wraps his arms tight around aziraphale, squeezes his torso like he can maybe keep aziraphale with him through sheer will or, laughably, demonic intervention. like love could ever be enough. like love could stay.

around them, the cacophony of wails and mockingly exaltant trumpets scorch the earth in their intensity, clashing and agonising even—especially—for them, and words make no sound. but they hold on to each other, even as they shrink into themselves against the noise of the undying. i don't want to leave you either, aziraphale doesn't say, but his hands dig into the cotton of crowley's sleeve, and crowley hears the words through his fingertips.

he feels a stronger upward resistance against his embrace now, and he clings tighter, steadfast, even as aziraphale's grip falters. but he knows he can't hold on forever. he knows that nothing ever lasts.

trembling with something unspeakable, he lifts his arms from aziraphale's torso and covers the angel's ears with his hands. he feels more than hearing aziraphale's resulting sob, and he spreads out his wings to wrap them around their bodies. a shield, a comfort, a goodbye.

it's okay, the gesture says in silence. i'll see you in another lifetime.

[slushy-sash]

why is bro in port ormos when he works at the akademiya

[inkskinned]

i wrote an interactive poem for my girlfriend in 3 parts. she said you need to read it.

go here: take only the final quiz or take all 3. i don't mind. it's sad, though. this is a poem about choice. about fate and mental illness and how love fits inside of all of it. this is a poem about a long dark hallway. mostly this is a poem about mango sushi rolls.

good luck. i love you. despite it all, i'm hopeful.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Not beating the allegations.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[destielgaysex]

3x04 Sin City / 4x01 Lazarus Rising

[whatisamildopinion]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (presidential candidate and her campaign manager)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 91

 “Elnath Peril Nightingale, I love you but what the fuck.” 

Danny was tired, he was really tired and could really use his partners’ help if they’d stop laughing at him. They were supposed to be lying low, they’d literally hopped to another world specifically to not bring attention to themselves. 

Yet here his darling clone-child was, beaming up at him while also holding the hand of… he isn’t entirely sure what they are except for some sort of undead. Some sort of undead who couldn’t sheath their claws and who had bright yellow eyes currently filled with utter befuddlement. 

 “I made friends! They were on the fire escape and this one was hurt and needs stitches. They have really weird yellow-ecto though…” 

 Ah. Yeah, that did sound kind of concerning. Maybe. Damnit he’d need to call Frostbite. 

[illdothehotvoice]

too fucking easy.

[chiquilines]

Found a new brush and i love it so much!! The togachako just happened

[moeblob]

A lil guy !

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: referenced mind control / parasites / intrusive thoughts (only in the tags) / ]

(This is just a fun “what if” so bear with me-) I know we make mention of the potential for Krang remnants to be stuck with Raph and/or Donnie, but Mikey and Leo also had a moment with the other two where a type of Krang goop was crawling beneath their skin (this being immediately after Raph broke free.)

So I raise you the potential for all four of them to have a bit of that Krang parasite on them…and for that to have unforeseen consequences.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

Was always worried about the angst of unrequited love, had never realized the sheer amount of comedic potential that it has.

Imagine one-sided Superbat where Clark is fully aware that Bruce has a crush on him but is being his repressed self about it, and Clark is just like, “I’m not gonna touch that :) you’re going to figure that out for yourself, buddy, and in the meantime, I’m just going to have a good time and be best friends with you as you inevitably pull yourself together enough to either fall out of love or to confess :) and I’ll just let you down gently because I care about you :)” but he absolutely 100% is using it to his advantage in the meantime. His puppy dog eyes had never been so effective before. He’s gotten out of Monitor Duty three times in the past month.

[sundayinthcpark]

actual life goal is forcing spirkers to acknowledge bones at all

[tritoch]

in general trying to write a fully canon-compliant wol, as i conceive it, is an interesting project because the wol's life involves such a staggering amount of direct interpersonal violence it is almost beyond comprehension. the only people in the real world who did anything comparable are like, certain executioners for totalitarian states, and that's obviously a very different form of violence.

and like obviously combat in FFXIV should not in any way be taken as a 1:1 with real world violence, not least because the game repeatedly points to the idea that combat can in some sense be a joyous and glorious form of personal expression (as with ravana, susano, zenos, etc.), which doesn't really square with the reality of doing violence. but to even begin to conceive of a character who's capable of doing what the WoL does from ARR on and trying to take it somewhat seriously means basically making an extremely detached killing machine, who's fine using those skills for any rando willing to call the hit they're hiring you for a "quest".

it ends up dovetailing really nicely with the games as written, though; you start ARR being like "i am an instrument of violence directed by others :)" and not talking much or ever registering your own thoughts on anything, because who cares? you're a violence-doing machine. and then one of your friends gets mind-controlled and you gotta fight a might-makes-right fascist and you meet multiple people who think you personally are a really cool person with inherent value in their own right just by being a person and it's like, hm. maybe there are other ways to live. and that parallels really nicely with DRK in HW, and then you and alphinaud deciding that you are tired of endless sacrifices in the name of progress and you are going to save estinien, and then the WoL getting to walk into stormblood having really consciously chosen this fight rather than letting someone else choose for them.

obviously there are a lot of stories you can tell with your WoL but to me this is a big part of why my approach to it necessarily revolves primarily around violence and regret. you spend the core game and two expansions becoming a terrible angel of death and then get teleported to another world where you learn that some people literally consider you a psychopomp who escorts the dead to their final rests. then in the next expansion you meet someone who was unfortunate enough to be on the other end of things during your implacable killing machine days. THEN you accidentally cause the flower that symbolizes grief to be invented. the wol's whole life is haunted by overwhelming grief (mostly that of other people) and terrible violence (mostly their own).

[itz-pandora]

I saw everyone was making Sonic ship kids, so I decided to try it as well!

Spirit the Hedgehog. I could NOT decide on colors until I made a human design (this is the third version of him!!!)

Human design!!

I tried to make him look like Sonic and Shadow (cuz he's a Sonadow kid) but I also want him to be unique, but idk :P